I looked at Keir. “Why not?”
“He never had it put up,” Simus said. “Too busy trying to gather support at first, talking and seeing people, sending us to guard you from a distance.”
“I had other concerns,” Keir growled.
“The Warlord would not let me return here,” Amyu explained. “Not after I disobeyed an Elder of my Tribe.”
“Amyu.” I hugged her hard. She stiffened for a moment, and then returned the gesture. “Amyu, thank you for sparing my life.”
“For which I also thank you,” Keir said.
Amyu inclined her head. “I am not so much a child that I cannot repay a debt, Warlord.”
Rafe got a funny look on his face. “And such a debt. The Warprize actually reached into the body of the life-giver and pulled the babes forth.” His voice was filled with admiration, but he looked a bit sick.
“I would hear that truth,” Joden said.
“Atira! Heath!” I hugged Atira first, then threw myself into Heath’s arms. But I pulled back quickly. “Heath! Your eye! What happened?”
His eye was black, with deep purple bruises and swelling all around. It was almost completely swollen shut.
Heath grimaced. “Nothing, Lara.” He glanced over at Atira, who glared right back at him.
“Next time, you will not get between a warrior of the Plains and her enemy.” Atira snapped, clearly unsympathetic.
“Oh, there’s a truth that needs telling!” Simus crowed.
“First the braziers, then kavage and food.” Marcus stirred himself. “The tent is small, it will warm quickly.”
“But I want to hear her truths!” Simus protested.
“Pah,” Marcus scolded. “When we’re warm, inside and out. Move that lazy carcass of yours, and we can all hear, together.”
“I’ll fetch wood,” Joden offered.
“Reness will have some stew,” Amyu offered. “I can go and ask.”
Simus grumbled, but he stood as well. “I’ll start the fires.”
“I have not the right to command—” Keir started.
I looked at him in astonishment, but Rafe cut him off. “You are our leader, Keir of the Cat. I will follow you, regardless of the Council’s decision. That which has been lost can be regained.”
Prest and the others nodded.
Simus smirked at Keir. “Told you.”
Keir’s face relaxed. “I thank you all.” He straightened his shoulders. “Prest and Rafe, remain on watch,” Keir demanded. “Yveni and Ander, take the back. We do not relax our guard.” At their crestfallen faces, he amended his command. “Until the time for truth telling comes. Then we will sit together. Agreed?”
“My tentmates will aid us,” Rafe offered. “If you wish, Warlord.”
“I am no longer a Warlord, Rafe,” Keir protested.
“You are,” Prest said pointedly, “to us.”
Keir considered him, then nodded in agreement. Everyone got to work.
I would have stood as well, but Keir’s hand was on my shoulder. I looked up into worried blue eyes. “Is anyone seriously hurt?” I asked. I looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m fine, Keir.”
“Bruises only,” Simus offered. “The blood belongs to others.”
“I—” Keir drew my attention as he stopped, and cleared his throat. “It may be some time before I can let you out of my sight.”
I leaned against him, and sighed, forgetting my concerns for the moment. “I feel the same, my Warlord.”
Marcus was right, once the braziers were lit the tent warmed quickly. Amyu returned with a pot of stew and flat bread. The kavage was on the fire, and Marcus summoned my guards in to eat. We all crammed into the tent and settled close. Rafe and Prest remained by the tent entrance, their eyes constantly watching for trouble. The four women of Rafe’s tent were posted all around, so that we were secure as we could be.
I managed to get Keir to sheath his sword and sit on a stool next to me. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek if I turned my head. Keir ignored the stew, but did take some kavage.
Amyu had lit the little lamp, and its flame flickered and danced in welcome.
“So, tell us.” Simus leaned in, his face full of curiosity. “Tell us what happened.”
So I did, between sips of kavage. When I finished, Simus shook his head, and turned to Joden. “Have you ever heard of such?”
“No.” Joden shook his head. “There are stories of the dead appearing to the living, but never to one not of the Plains.”
“I thought I’d sent you to your death,” Keir said softly. “The horse should have fled to the herds. But it seems he took you much further.”
“Just as well,” Simus added. “Since those warriors got past us and into the herds.”
Keir grunted. “Still. Out as far as where the Snake Tribe keeps its gurtles? Why so far?”
“The dead did it,” I offered. “Greatheart ran, and they surrounded us and urged us on. Gils, and Isdra and Epor.” I hesitated. “And Keekai.”
We all went silent. A sob filled my throat. “She helped me so much.” I looked over at Keir, the grief etched on his face.
“She believed in us,” Keir offered. “And died to protect you.”
I moved into the shelter of his arm and Keir hugged me a bit closer. “It took three warriors to take her down, Lara. And she still managed to take one with her. An honorable end.”
“One to sing of,” Joden said softly.
I nodded in sorrow, but then looked at everyone around me. “I am so glad you all survived. But, Prest, where is Epor’s warclub?”
“Broke.” Prest looked satisfied. “Gathering Storm answered to it.”
“He fell like a stone when Prest hit him, and never got up again,” Rafe added. “The club split clean down the center.”
Joden was sitting next to him, and had an odd look on his face. Either he was playing chess in his head, or he was composing a song.
I leaned forward. “But what happened here? Keir threw me on Greatheart and . . .?”
Amyu looked confused, but Marcus leaned over. “Herself names her horses.”
Amyu’s eyes widened. “All of them?”
Simus set his empty bowl down and belched. “Once you were away, and out of danger, we could focus on the fight. Before that we were hard pressed.”
Joden frowned. “I knew that Iften and Antas were relying on my truths to support them. And I would have spoken against you, Lara. But it struck me, when you ran to Keir, that is when I remembered—”
“ ‘Like the heat of the summer sun,’” I quoted.
He nodded, embarrassed. “I didn’t know that they’d use their swords to force the issue. When Antas called for your death, I was stunned.”
“Not so stunned that you didn’t leap to help us,” Keir said.
Joden shrugged. “I may not support your ideas, Warlord, but I will not see them be silenced with death.”
“Enough of the Elders felt the same way that their swords aided us,” Keir added. “Or the results may have been different.”
Marcus passed the Ravage. “So Antas fled?”
“Essa almost took him down, but it was a struggle.” Simus seemed impressed. “I’d not thought Antas the better warrior.”
“Gathering Storm went for Wild Winds, who was caught by surprise. If not for Keekai charging down, he might have killed the Eldest Warrior-Priest,” Simus commented.
“Warrior-Priest against warrior-priest. What does that mean?” Yveni asked.
“I wish I knew,” Joden responded.
“A trick, perhaps,” Keir suggested. “To disguise his role, in case of failure.”
Simus shook his head. “He had the true look of a man taken by surprise. And Keekai drove Gathering Storm off—”
“To face me,” Prest added smugly.
“When Gathering Storm went down, Antas called for his warriors to flee,” Joden explained.
“Wild Winds is hurt,” I offered. “So is Essa. They try to hide it, but they both move with pain.”
“Ah.” Joden looked at me, questioningly.