Warcry (26 page)

A ring lay in her palm—a ring made from a flattened nail. Her nail, Heath knew in an instant. “You made that?” Heath asked as he took the ring in his hand.

“Yes.” Atira grimaced and shifted her weight. “And one for me. Do I have to stay down here until you make up your mind?”

There was a rumble of laughter from the gathered guards.

“Sun God.” Heath pulled her up with her good hand. “You can’t mean this. You denied me for so long.”

“I know,” Atira sighed. “But I have come to see that you mean more to me than a place ever could. I want to see what all I can learn from your people. But more than that, I want to see what you and I can accomplish together. I want you in my life, from now until we seek the snows. If that means that Xy is also in my life, so be it.” Atira smiled at him. “After all, the Plains is now in yours.”

“That it is.” Heath’s smile was wide and growing.

“We will be of both worlds,” Atira said.

“Until the snows, then?” Heath pulled her close.

“Until the snows and beyond,” Atira said.

Heath leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Atira flinched slightly, but then kissed him back, increasing the pressure.

The guards cheered as they parted. “But lad, ya haven’t answered her yet!” Detros called out.

“I will marry thee, Atira of the Bear, Warrior of the Plains,” Heath announced, his voice echoing from the walls. “I will accept your offer and offer my own in return, for all our lives and beyond.”

Atira snuggled in beneath his arm as the guards cheered. “Good,” she whispered. “Now, how about that willowbark tea?”

“As you command, my lady,” Heath whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist. He felt her lean into his strength with a sigh, and they slowly walked into the castle together.

CHAPTER 36

THE DAY OF THEIR BONDING WAS BRIGHT, CLEAR, and perfect. Atira felt that the very elements approved their bonding. She and Heath stood together in the center of the castle courtyard, where all could gather to witness, waiting for sunset, and all the skies could see.

Beneath the deepening blue sky, and with the breeze playing with her hair, Atira faced Heath before Archbishop Iain, surrounded by the crowd of well-wishers. Her heart fluttered with excitement as they waited, and she looked about to try to calm her nerves.

Archbishop Iain looked both proud enough to burst and yet somehow embarrassed by his new finery. Certainly he gleamed brightly in the sun in his new robes.

Heath had asked Keir and Detros to stand with him. Atira had asked Amyu, Yveni, and, of course, Lara to stand with her. They were just behind her, and she was proud to have them at her side.

Anna stood close by, beaming. She had burst into tears at the news, then cried afresh when Heath and Atira told her they would stay in Xy. When Atira had refused to wear aught but her regular armor, Anna had decked Aurora out in a fine dress. Even now the little girl was running about in ribbons and curls, scattering some kind of grass from a basket. Atira would have to ask the meaning of that custom later.

Heath had suggested that Atira wear the armor she’d purchased from the young smith for the ceremony, but Yveni and Amyu had joined her in glaring him into silence. When that hadn’t worked, Amyu had suggested that Atira would wear it only if he wore it as well. “Seems only fair,” she’d said. “Of course, you’d only need to wear the bottom part.”

Heath hadn’t mentioned the armor since.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Atira didn’t have plans for those scraps of metal. She glanced over to where their horses waited with their gear. She’d packed those scraps of armor deep in her saddlebags. Heath had suggested that they camp beneath the pines outside the walls this night. They were to leave as soon as the ceremony was done.

Later, when her shoulder was fully healed, they’d have the ear-weaving in the manner of her people, and a pattern dance after to celebrate. But for tonight . . .

A smile hovered on her lips. Heath gave her a puzzled look as he stepped to her side. “Anything wrong?” he whispered.

“Oh no,” she responded. “Just making a few plans.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Atira just laughed. Her stomach jumped with nerves she’d never felt before, or maybe it was just her joy. She reached for Heath’s hand, and he took hers with a smile.

The courtyard was filling rapidly. Dunstan and Ismari had come, slipping in with the crowd of guards. A few other craftmasters were about, along with many of the castle guards.

Eln stood with Amyu, cradling the babies that slept in their arms. Anna had Meara, and the little girl was laughing with radiant happiness.

Anna’s face reflected that joy, but there was also pain. They’d visited the crypt where Othur had been interred before they’d come down to the courtyard. Atira did not understand why, but she was willing to honor Othur.

Still, it seemed strange to leave flowers when his spirit would travel with them until the snows, but it meant much to Anna, and that was all Atira really needed to know.

Archbishop Iain cleared his throat, trying to get everyone’s attention. Atira faced Heath as the crowd settled, and silence spread over the courtyard.

“Heath of Xy, Seneschal of Water’s Fall, you stand before me, the earthly representative of the Sun God, He who blesses and preserves the Kingdom of Xy. What would you have of me?”

“Devoted One.” Heath’s nervousness had him booming his words. “I would take Atira of the Bear, Warrior of the Plains, to be my wife, to pledge my marriage vows to her before the Sun God and these witnesses. By my own free will and hand.”

“How say you, Atira of the Bear?” the Archbishop asked.

Atira opened her mouth, but her throat went dry. She couldn’t speak; her joy overwhelmed her. She smiled at Heath, her tears spilling out.

Heath reached out and dried her tears. “It’s okay, my love,” he reassured her anxiously. “But you do need to say the words.”

Atira started to laugh, and those crowded around laughed with her. “I would take Heath of Xy to be my bonded—”

“Husband,” Iain whispered.

“Husband,” Atira repeated, biting her lip against her emotions. “To pledge my marriage vows to him before the Sun God and these witnesses. By my own free will and hand.”

“Who represents Atira’s family in this matter?” the Archbishop said.

“I do, Devoted One,” Keir said. “Although she has no need of permission, at her request, and by your tradition, I consent to the marriage of Heath and Atira, before the Sun God and these witnesses. By my own free will and hand.”

“So it has been said and declared.” The Archbishop’s voice shook slightly. “Are the witnesses satisfied?”

“We are,” rang out around the courtyard.

“Atira of the Bear, do you take Heath of Xy as your husband under the laws of Xy?”

“I do,” Atira sobbed. “And as proof of my vow, I offer this ring to bind thee to me.” Her hand shook as she placed the ring she had made on Heath’s finger.

Iain smiled. “And do you, Heath of Xy, take Atira of the Bear as your wife under the laws of Xy?”

“I do,” Heath said. “And as proof of my vow, I offer this ring to bind thee to me.”

Atira placed her hand in Heath’s and cried as he slid the ring on her finger.

“Then by the grace of the Sun God, I pronounce thee husband and wife, and direct thee to seal thy marriage with a—”

Atira threw herself at Heath, almost forgetting her shoulder. She remembered in time, using her good arm to wrap around his neck and pull him into a kiss. Her lip was still fairly sore, but her heart’s joy made it easy to ignore.

Heath wrapped his arms around her, supporting and lifting her feet off the ground as he kissed her.

Laughter filled the air, and cheers and the clapping of hands followed. Atira was still crying as Heath set her down, his own eyes glittering with tears.

Until a shadow covered the courtyard.

The warmth of the sun was gone in an instant, leaving only the sound of a tent in the wind. Atira looked up, but Heath reacted first, pulling her back and away. Atira followed his gaze as the laughter died around them, and the silence was cut by the scream of a terrified horse.

A monster descended on the courtyard, a huge beast with wings. It was a mottled gray-green, like lichens on a rock. Atira caught a brief glimpse of cruel eyes before the head arched down and focused on its prey. Two claws sunk into Atira’s horse’s back as the monster’s huge wings beat the air, raising a cloud of dust and debris.

The horse collapsed under the weight of the beast. It thrashed, struggling against the claws. Heath’s horse bolted away, headed for the gates.

“Back,” Heath commanded, pulling his sword.

Keir was in front of the castle doors, his curved swords gleamed in his hands. He kept a wary eye on the creature as Lara and Amyu vanished into the castle behind him, the babies in their arms, seeking safety as their guards covered their retreat. Anna was not far behind, Meara in her arms, dragging Aurora by the hand.

Iain stood transfixed, staring at the monstrous creature. “It’s a wyvern,” he breathed. “From the ancient times. Before—”

Atira grabbed him with her good hand and yanked him to get him moving toward the doors. Iain stumbled as she pulled him back, looking back over his shoulder. “The tail,” he called out as she almost threw him into the arms of the guards. “Look out for the tail!”

The wyvern ignored everything but its prey. It sank its jaws into the horse’s neck as the courtyard cleared. The poor horse was pinned under its weight, but still fighting. Atira turned back to see that Iain was right. She watched in horror as the wyvern brought its tail up and over its head. The tip gleamed wetly in the light.

The creature hissed and plunged its stinger into the horse’s neck.

One of the guards charged forward at that moment, sword and shield at the ready. He ran straight up to the monster and slashed at the wyvern’s neck. But the wyvern reared back in surprise and snarled. Its tail lashed out again and hit the man on the shoulder, piercing his armor. He screamed and collapsed, writhing on the ground.

“Crossbows,” Heath shouted. “Detros!”

“Crossbows, load and fire,” Detros’s voice bellowed out over the courtyard.

A guard near them dropped his shield to load his weapon. Atira freed her injured arm and grabbed for it, following Heath.

The wyvern hissed at the guards and warriors surrounding it as the horse struggled in its claws. It flapped its leathery wings, buffeting everyone with air and raising another cloud of dust and grit.

Atira secured her shield and stood just behind Heath, warding them both, keeping a wary eye on the tail. The courtyard had cleared quickly; only the palace guards and others Plains warriors remained.

“Fire,” Heath ordered.

The air filled with bolts and arrows speeding toward the wyvern. But its leathery hide was tougher than that, and Atira watched as the arrows failed to penetrate. Some bolts stuck in the hide, but there was little damage. More just bounced off and clattered to the stones below. It would take more than—

“Lances,” Heath shouted, seeing what she saw and reacting that much more quickly.

Lances weren’t something a warrior carried. Atira saw other warriors run for the gardens, but that wouldn’t be quick enough. There was a quiver of lances on the saddle of her dying horse.

Atira darted forward, shield high.

HEATH’S HEART STOPPED AS ATIRA DARTED IN BENEATH the beast, holding just a large wooden shield.

The wyvern’s gaze fell on her, and it screamed in rage as its tail lashed out to hit squarely on the shield. The stinger struck the wood hard enough to splinter. Atira stumbled, keeping the shield up as she fell by the horse.

The wyvern danced over her, shifting its stance on the body of the horse, looking for her.

Heath raised his sword, ready to charge. Before he could move, Atira slung her quiver of lances toward him, skittering as it slid over the stones to his feet. “Heath,” she cried out as the tail lashed in again.

Keir came up behind him, but Heath beat him to the lances. He lifted and threw without even hesitating.

The lance, with its black stone tip, pierced the monster’s neck.

Thick blood gushed forth, and the wyvern screamed, rearing back. It screamed again, then staggered. Atira disappeared as it flailed about and collapsed. Warriors and guards surged forward, swarming over the beast, to make sure of the kill.

Heath ran as well, his heart in his throat. The wyvern’s body had collapsed to the side, its dark wing covering the dead horse and his . . .

Voices were raised, asking questions, shouting orders. Heath ran for the place he’d last seen Atira. Many hands aided him, pulling back the monster’s wing, struggling with its weight. Its hide was slippery with blood.

Heath held his breath, seeing Atira tucked between the bodies of the horse and the monster, curled under her shield. His stomach clenched when she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Sun God, no . . .

Atira lifted her head, her hair in disarray and her face covered in blood. Not hers, thank the Sun God. Heath took in the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Atira blinked up at him, her face lighting up like a beacon. “If this is the start of our bond, I can’t wait to see what the rest of our lives will bring!”

Heath paused in the chaos and confusion around them and could not help but laugh with weak relief. Ignoring it all, he offered his hand to his ladywife and pulled her into his arms, sealing their bond with a kiss.

Berkley Sensation Books by Elizabeth Vaughan

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