“Amyu! Kill the Xyian!”
“LARA!” Keir’s scream filled my ears, even as I gathered my legs to spring off my stool. But it was too late. Amyu had the shoulder of my tunic wrapped in her fist. She yanked me down, and followed me to the floor, drawing her dagger with her free hand.
“Are we barbarians, to pull weapons in Council?” I heard Essa cry out, as the sounds of swords clashing filled the air.
“LARA!” Keir’s voice sounded closer.
“Stay down,” Amyu hissed. She covered me with her own body.
Relief flooded through me, at the same time that I realized what it must look like to the others. Keir’s scream was now an incoherent roar. “Amyu, Keir will kill you!” I gasped.
“The least of my worries,” she whispered. I watched as she raised her dagger and made it look like she’d plunged it into my body.
I heard Antas roar out in satisfaction. The rage was palpable, as bodies launched over us. I had the briefest glimpse of Iften and Gathering Storm, but I couldn’t tell what was happening. I twisted under Amyu, getting to where I could see—
In time to see Keir leap over the fire pit to land at my side.
He landed like a cat, sleek and deadly, intent on his target. The light reflected on his two blades, and in his eyes. Amyu sucked in a breath, and I couldn’t blame her for her terror. She got to her knees, ready to use the dagger to fend one of the blows.
“Keir!” I cried, and his eyes flicked over to me, then flicked back to Amyu. He took a step, about to strike. But then his gaze returned to mine, and sanity flooded into their depths. “Lara.” It sounded like a prayer, even as Keir sheathed one of his swords. He reached down to pull me to my feet. Amyu scrambled up as well.
I’d thought that would stop the fighting, but it didn’t. Chaos was all around us. Warrior fought warrior, Elder fought Elder. It was hard for me to make sense of it all. Keekai was running from her stool, down the tiers toward us.
Rafe and Prest, Ander and Yveni were suddenly surrounding me. Rafe gave Amyu a grim look. “Couldn’t do it, could you?”
Amyu grimaced.
“To the horses,” Keir growled. “Get her out of here.”
“No,” I protested, but Keir had already turned, and I could see Simus guarding his back, fending off two warrior-priests. Antas had attacked Essa, and—
Wild Winds was fighting Gathering Storm.
Warrior-priest against warrior-priest? I blinked, trying to understand, but there was no time. Prest grabbed my collar, and brought me around to face him. “Remember your lessons.”
I nodded. He released me and took the lead. Rafe was beside him, and Anders and Yveni were behind us. Amyu was next to me, dagger at the ready.
“The Xyian lives!” Iften’s voice boomed through the tent, and I winced at the attention focused on us. We’d barely cleared the firepits when we were pressed from all sides. Prest and Rafe stopped, and turned to form a line with Ander and Yveni. Keir plunged past them, caught my elbow, and we ran for the tent entrance. Amyu followed.
Outside, warriors and horses milled about in confusion. Keir warbled, and four horses came running, his black and Greatheart among them.
Battle cries came from behind us, and I turned to see warriors charging toward us, Iften in the lead.
Amyu ran toward them, slashing with her dagger. The warriors stopped, preparing to cut her down. But Keekai came running out of the tent and attacked them behind, wielding two swords, and screaming in fury. Behind her were Ander and Yveni.
As that group clashed more warriors came out, with no friend of ours in sight. I felt two hands at my waist and gasped as Keir tossed me onto Greatheart’s back. Struggling for balance, I buried my hands in his mane
“Go,” Keir snapped, looking back toward the fray.
“Not without you,” I snapped right back, angry and terrified in an instant.
Keir’s head whipped around, and he looked up at me, his eyes so very blue. For a moment, time seemed to stop as he gave me a tight, wry smile. “Stay on, beloved.”
“Keir—”
Keir reached out, and smacked Greatheart on the rump. “Flee!”
Greatheart lurched in surprise.
Caught by Greatheart’s movement, all I could do was cling to his back. Keir had already turned, drawing his swords and running to aid Keekai and the others.
Greatheart’s muscles bunched under me, preparing to run. “No, Greatheart—” I tugged on his mane. “No, don’t—”
Greatheart leaped away, with several of the other horses who’d heard the command.
A horse neighed in rage. In my confusion, I looked over my shoulder, hair and tears in my eyes, to see Keir’s black horse, riderless and rearing, pawing the air, trumpeting its anger. I blinked, tossing my head to try to clear my eyes. For one long heartbeat, I looked back.
The warriors were a mob now, a confusion of bodies and blades. Centered on one tall, dark-haired figure, fighting with two swords.
I looked just in time to see Keir die.
The first blade dug into his neck.
I screamed then, an echo to the black’s.
A sword plunged into his chest then, buried to the hilt. Keir dropped, his swords falling from his hands.
I screamed again.
It had only taken a heartbeat. Greatheart had taken no more than a stride. Now he tore the ground with his hooves, plunging through tents and people, obeying Keir’s last command.
Crying, I looked forward as he ran, and tugged on his mane, but he ignored me.
I turned back, to see warriors running from the tent, mounting their horses, pointing at me. I cried out again, in fear and anguish, and turned back to bury my face in Greatheart’s mane.
Weeping, I clung to his back, pressed low. Stay on, stay on, stay on. The words repeated over and over in my head, like a chant for the dead.
We cleared the tents, and still Greatheart ran, the other horses surrounding us, taking us deep within the herd. I could see other horses from the corner of my streaming eyes, running alongside, but I paid no attention. Still, Greatheart didn’t slow.
The pain in my chest left me gasping for air. My eyes and nose were streaming, my hair was in my face. I didn’t care. I gripped Greatheart tighter with my legs, and twisted my fingers in his mane. The sun had gone down, the stars were coming out, and still Greatheart ran.
Stay on, stay on, stay on.
A flicker drew my eye to my left. I glimpsed a rider, and fear coursed through me. They’d caught me. I turned to look, straining to see if it were friend or foe. The man seemed to glow in the light, as if he were Stardust or moonbeams. I sucked in a breath.
It was Epor.
There was no mistaking his bearded face, grim in the moonlight as he rode, warclub on his back. His hair, his armor, his skin all glowed in the light, washed in silver.
I jerked my head forward. No, no it couldn’t be. I was—
Isdra was two horses ahead of me, her long braid glowing silver. She looked over her shoulder, her face intent and serious. She wasn’t looking at me, but over my shoulder, as if watching for my enemies. She turned back then facing the front and urging her horse to go faster.
“We of the Plains believe that our dead travel with us, ride along beside us, unseen and unknown, but knowing and seeing.”
Marcus’s voice rang in my head. “Until the longest night. On that night, we mourn our dead, who are released to journey to the stars.”
I looked down at my hands, shivering, wanting to throw up. But curiosity forced me to glance to my right, to see if—
Gils was there.
Ah, Goddess, no. That had to mean that... I twisted as far as I could without risking my seat.
I caught a glimpse of Keir, three horses back, guarding the rear. Dark hair as he watched behind us, his two sword hilts jutting up behind his shoulders.
Pain flooded my heart. I cried out then, howling my grief and anguish to the sky. But the sky and the dead made no answer, and Greatheart never stopped. The sound tore from my chest, pouring out of me, but there was no comfort, no pity in the stars.