“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.
I shrugged. “They know what I am willing to do, Joden. They know where I am.”
Keir growled.
The talk continued as I blinked a bit, relaxing in the warmth. Others had been involved in the fight, names that I didn’t know. But it was wonderful to be surrounded by my friends, warm and fed, with Keir by my side. I smiled, content, until I realized that Marcus had asked me a question. I blinked at him in confusion.
He gave me a wry smile. “Enough. Herself is exhausted, and we wear her out with this chatter.”
Keir looked into my face, concerned. “Lara?”
Marcus stood. “Out, all of you. I’ve a Warprize and a Warlord to put to bed.” Keir scowled and opened his mouth to protest, but Marcus snorted. “A Warlord who has not slept these last few days. Or eaten, for that matter.”
Simus stood and stretched. “I’ll sleep out here, in front of the entrance. Are you others able to take the night?”
“There’s not that much left.” Rafe stood as well. “Another mug of kavage and we’ll do until dawn.”
Prest nodded his agreement.
“Then we’ll sleep and relieve you.” Ander and Yveni rose and left.
“It seems we have no say,” I chuckled, looking into Keir’s face. His eyes flickered, and there was no amusement in those eyes. I stood, and stretched, reaching for Keir to steady myself. He reached for me as well.
“Some warm water, Warprize?” Marcus asked.
“That would be good.” I nodded. “And another bowl of stew, Marcus.” I tightened my grip on Keir’s hand and took a step toward the sleeping area.
Keir swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed.
“Keir, it’s just a few steps!”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. Marcus took the hint, and closed off our portion of the tent. We were finally alone. Out from under the prying eyes of both friend and foe.
Keir eased me down to my feet. I placed my hands on his chest and looked up into his weary tired eyes, and smiled. “Keir . . .”
He took me in his arms, and claimed my mouth with his.
Chapter 18
In the past day, I’d passed through curiosity, terror, fear, and despair, only to find myself in Keir’s arms. I sighed, and melted against him. I was tired and dirty, but far more important, I was home. I leaned in, letting him take control of the kiss, answering his passion with my own. His arms crushed me to his chest. But the rings of his mail pressed into my palms, and I broke the kiss, hissing at the pain.