Warprize (35 page)

I looked at her oddly, hearing ‘Warprize’ as a title, not a label or a thing.

My silence attracted Epor’s attention. He took up his war club and stood. “Warprize?”

Joden’s horse was outside, cropping at the sparse grass. I moved forward and grabbed the reins. Epor moved as if to follow me. “No. Stay here.”

Epor stopped dead. Isdra came to stand next to him. “Warprize,” she spoke quickly. “We are commanded to guard you—”

“I wish to leave camp.” I gave them a narrow glance.

Epor sucked in a breath. “If that is the case, we cannot stop you. But Warprize, please, let us get horses and escort you back to your people. Let us at least assure your safety.”

“No.”

Epor swallowed hard. Isdra went as white as her hair. Joden had followed me out of the tent and stood there looking at me. Isdra appealed to him. “Singer, please tell her that it’s for her own safety. The attempts on her life…”

I waited.

“She is the warprize, yes? And to be obeyed?” Joden asked.

Epor and Isdra both nodded. I swung myself up into the saddle.

Joden’s face did not change its expression as he looked up at me. “You are free, Lara. The only restraints on you are those of your own choosing.”

I turned the horse, jammed my toes into its belly, and it sprang down the road toward the camp’s main gate.

Through the camp we plunged, the horse’s mane and my hair streaming in the wind. The horse was willing, and I could feel its muscles move under me as its hooves pounded into the earth. I leaned forward, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.

There was no outcry behind us, no one tried to stop me.

Some saw me and waved a hand in acknowledgment, but showed no surprise nor consternation. I plunged headlong between the tents, urging the horse on and on, a rising feeling of excitement in my chest. We pounded through the main gate and out into the field beyond. The guards there seemed only mildly interested, if slightly disapproving of my riding style.

Out the gate and up the rise where the beaten road met the main road that led from the castle gates down into the valley. I pulled the horse to a stop, but it fought me, wanting to run. It danced beneath me, and I wheeled its head about, until at last it was quiet beneath me.

We stood there, the horse blowing and my heart pounding against my ribs.

No one was following, no one was reacting, there was no hue and cry, no chase. I was free. Truly, truly free.

I laughed, delighted at my freedom, at the sun on my face, at the wind in my hair. The horse danced under me, eager to go. I wheeled it to face the city and the castle.

I could go home.

The wind blew my hair into my face, and I used one hand to clear it away. I could go home, back to my old life, as if nothing had happened. Run to the kitchens and Anna’s loving arms and Othur’s grin and pick up the tatters of my life. Rebuild the stillroom, make Xymund see reason, and…

What if Keir was right? What if Xymund had tried to have me killed?

If I returned to the castle, I’d be under his authority. Anna and Othur may love me dearly, but they couldn’t stand between us.

Even more, if I returned to the castle, I returned to the known. The commonplace, daily routine of my life. Yet I’d been ripped up by the roots and the pot had been broken, and I wasn’t sure that I’d fit there ever again. Much less grow.

I hesitated, and wheeled the horse again. It puffed out its breath and stamped at the grass. This time we faced the road that led to the valley. I had skills, and there’d be those that would help me. I could go to the lands that my father left me, and start that school, living out my days teaching and healing. I could even leave for some foreign land. With some supplies and a few coins I could make my way anywhere in this world. Leave Keir and Xymund to weave their pattern and get myself out of this tangle that they called a ‘peace’.

The horse shook its head, jingling its tack, and stamped its feet, as if in disapproval.

If I tried to make my own way, I’d break a promise that my Blood had sworn to the people when Xy had first taken the throne. I might be free of my slavery to the Warlord, but my oaths and my duty still held me to my people. For it seemed to me that for the peace to have any chance, I must be at Keir’s side.

I wheeled it again and turned to look at the camp. I could hear Joden’s voice. “You are free, Lara. The only restraints on you are those of your own choosing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The camp of the Warlord, the camp of the dreaded Firelanders. A people who were a total mystery to me, for I had no idea of what my life would be like among them, or what awaited me at the Heart of the Plains. The camp of a man who was risking everything on the chance of building something better. Stronger. Brighter. For both our peoples.

Returning to the camp and Keir was a risk. A wild unknown, for no one could tell if his plans would survive to the dawn, much less work. And there was no way to predict what would happen to any of us if he failed.

There was another aspect to all of this, grand plans and kingdoms aside. I flushed to think of it. For certain, a Daughter of Xy contemplating her duties and obligations was not supposed to think of the touch of a man’s hand in the night, or how a simple brush of lips on her neck could raise such a heat in her breast. No, a loyal Daughter of Xy should think only of her duties and obligations, as I had when I knelt in the throne room to surrender myself to slavery.

And yet, what I had thought a claiming, had been a seduction.

What I had thought were chains, were tokens.

What I had thought was pride of possession in a certain pair of blue eyes was… the promise of a lifetime?

Hope rose in my breast like a sunrise. There was but one way to find out. That was the only certainty I had. If I took either of the other paths, up to the castle, or out to my lands, I’d never know the answers. Or I could take the biggest risk of all, and open my heart and myself to Keir. Of all the possibilities, of all the paths, it was that one that set my blood afire. A future full of risk and dangers, potential and promise. For him. For me. For us.

I laughed and urged the horse on, and once again it sprang forward with a willingness. Down the rise we went, the horse’s hooves churning the soil. We galloped through the gate, without so much as a hail of the guard. I caught a brief glimpse of their expressions as we came back through, and laughed again, certain that they were thinking that I was no rider. I didn’t stop until I pulled the horse up outside my stilltent.

Joden was still standing there, and I could see the joy in his eyes as I slid from the saddle. Epor and Isdra ran to me, joy and relief on their faces.

“Thank the skies,” Epor spoke as I handed the reins to Joden.

“One more question.” I stood straight and looked Joden right in the eye. He grew serious, and nodded for me to continue. “Am I required to bear five children?”

He blinked, confused but then his face cleared. A smile crept back over his broad face. “No.”

“Where is he?” I demanded.

Now Joden’s whole face lit up, and he pointed past the tents to the practice grounds. I smiled, and turned to go.

“Warprize!” Epor stepped in front of me, his hand out, pleading. “Warprize, please let us to go with you.”

Isdra added her voice. “Warprize, it’s worth our lives to let you—”

I stopped and turned. “And if I say ‘no’?”

Isdra swallowed hard. “We’d obey, Warprize.” Epor, his face gray, nodded his obedience as well. Joden just smiled at me.

“Come then,” I said as I turned and started to run. Joden laughed behind me, but in a thrice they were beside me, pacing me easily. As I neared Keir’s tent, I thought for a minute. I could go back and bathe, find that white shift and be waiting for him barefoot with my hair falling free…

No.

He had waited too long.

I had waited too long.

Not one minute more.

The practice ground was a large dirt circle, with the sod removed. Keir was squared off against two men as we came up. There was quite a crowd, including Simus, who was seated on a stool, making insulting comments, and urging them on. I had no idea what lessons were being taught, I only had eyes for one man.

One tall, blue-eyed, sweaty man.

No one noticed as I moved to the edge. I stopped to catch my breath and watched him flow around the other men, using their movements against them. He was in bright chainmail with the black under-padding. He had on a coif, and was using two wooden swords. The men fighting him were using shields and wooden swords. The dust was thick as they shuffled about, trying to flank Keir, but only tripping over themselves. Keir’s face was a snarl of concentration, completely focused on his opponents. I could watch for hours. I would watch for hours. But right now I had other things on my mind.

“Keir.” I called.

His head swivelled around, homing in on my face at the exact moment one of his opponents was in mid-swing with his wooden sword. It ‘thwacked’ Keir right in the ass. I winced at the sound. The attacker jumped back, horrified as the watchers laughed, Simus loudest of all. Keir ignored them. He looked worried as he walked over to me, tilting his head to the side a little, lowering his weapons. My heart swelled, and I bounced on the balls of my feet.

“Warprize?”

Once he got close, I grabbed his shoulders, pulled myself up and kissed him. Hard. Keir was caught by surprise, and brought his arms up to embrace me, careful of the weapons in his hands. I laughed against his mouth, then gently bit his lower lip. “I want you.” I leaned back to see his face. Stunned, he blinked at me. “Now, my Warlord.” I released him, turned, and started walking for our tent. Epor and Isdra moved with me, but kept their distance.

“Warprize?” Keir called after me.

I looked over my shoulder at him, grinned, and started walking faster.

Simus was shouting his laughter, and I heard Keir curse as he started to follow. The warriors were calling, making encouraging noises, and some catcalls. I laughed and kept walking. I could hear chainmail jingling behind me, catching up. I threw a glance back, only to see that he was gaining on me.

I started to run.

I managed to reach the tent first, barely, darting through the flaps. Epor and Isdra stayed outside. I stood by the bed, turned and waited for him. He was a breath behind, breathing hard, dressed in that chainmail and leather outfit. As he advanced on me, it came to me that I didn’t really know what to do next.

I needn’t have worried. He swept me up and kissed me hard, using his hands to mold me to him. We tumbled onto the bed, Keir falling backwards with me landing on top. The breath left him in a rush, and I pulled back, concerned that I’d hurt him. His expression was so surprised, I started laughing. He looked up into my face, searching for the reason for my actions.

“Mine,” I said, staring into those blue eyes. I leaned down, letting my hair fall around his face. “My Warlord.” He opened his mouth to speak, and I darted down, kissing him, daring to take control. Only the lack of air forced me to pull back, and we both breathed hard for a moment. My hair made a curtain, sheltering his face. He licked his lips, eyes staring up into mine with a sense of wonder and a hint of disbelief.