Warren’s mouth curled in a wry smile. “I would welcome that.”
“Tomorrow? At the nooning. Bring your officers and we will dine.”
Numb, I watched as they talked of nothing, as if all were well and fine, as if Keir hadn’t just killed a man for a simple insult. My heart drammed in my chest and the air in the room seemed close and over-warm.
Keir pulled his cloak off the chair where he’d thrown it before the ceremony. “I wish to see the castle.”
Xymund’s voice grated. “Othur will show you the building.”
“No,” Keir interrupted. “I wish to see it through the eyes of the warprize.”
Xymund’s jaw clenched. Never had I seen him so angry and so afraid. His right eye seemed to twitch very slightly, his hands clenched in fists. I held my breath, waiting to see which emotion would win out.
Xymund’s hands relaxed. His head jerked as if to nod, and he went to the door. With a resigned look, Warren made to follow.
“I will need to know the extent of that lord’s holdings.” Keir’s voice came as a low purr. Xymund stopped dead in the doorway. Keir continued, “I will need to appoint a new lord as soon as possible.”
Warren half-turned toward Keir. “Warlord, our tradition is that a man’s son inherits his father’s holdings. Durst’s son, Degnan, is his heir.”
“Is this Degnan capable?”
Warren shrugged, clearly at a loss. He looked to Xymund for support, but none came. Finally, he looked back at Keir. “He is the heir, Warlord.”
“I will consider this.” Keir lifted an eyebrow. “You are excused.”
Goddess, was he deliberately provoking Xymund?
Xymund said nothing and left. Warren followed.
I released the breath I had been holding. Didn’t he understand, didn’t they know what a horrible thing had happened? To slay a man without warning, for a slur? Bad enough to insult Xymund’s pride, to humiliate him before the Court. The Warlord had made very clear that his token was not for me to use, I had no protections from the consequences of my words, but if the peace were to last past the dawn someone had to voice this truth.
“Rafe, I want company for our tour. Ask Joden, Yers, Oxna, Senbar and Uzania to join us. I saw Epor and Isdra in the crowd, ask them as well. Tell the rest to return to camp. In a group, no stops. Tell them to be alert.”
“Your sword, Warlord?” Rafe paused by the door. “Do you wish me to see to it?”
“It’s well enough. I will see to it myself.”
Rafe nodded and slipped out.
Keir watched the fire. I moved closer, licked my lips and drew in a breath. He glanced my way. “You wish to point out my mistake.”
I closed my mouth. His blue eyes glittered in the light of the fire and I waited for that temper to flare. Instead he gave me a rueful smile. “So much for my talk of change, eh?”
I didn’t understand, and would have asked, but a knock at the door brought Rafe into the room with the others, talking quietly among themselves.
The moment was lost. I might risk the truth in private, but not in front of others. As Keir stepped away, I looked for a friendly face and found it in Joden. “You have a wonderful voice, Joden.”
His smile was wide and a relief to see. “My thanks, Warprize.”
“Come,” Keir gestured us to the door. “Show us this stone tent of yours.”
I took them to the highest point, in the tallest turret, to start. The young guard at the top almost dropped his spear, startled to find himself hosting the Warlord when normally his only company were the bees that buzzed in and out of the skeps that Anna kept on the heights. The sun was down, but in the fading twilight, we could still see.
The battlements fascinated Keir. The views from this height allowed one to look clear into the valley below, and even beyond their camp. Keir, Rafe, and the others pressed themselves against the outer wall, trying to look down as far as they could. The breeze that always blew at this height whistled past, catching at our hair and clothing. Prest, on the other hand, pressed himself against the opposite wall by the door, his eyes wide, the whites showing, his dark complexion turning ashen. He seemed quite grateful when I pulled them away from the views and we headed back down.
They asked question after question about the building, about how I could stand to be surrounded by walls all the time. Some of the narrow corridors made them nervous, and I’d see them all looking up, as if searching for the sky. Some of their questions I knew the answer to, some I didn’t. They admired the thick walls, wrinkled their noses at the privies with their small holes, and mock fought on the circular staircases. I showed them the places where old kings had started building, and young kings had built on. Impressed as they were with its age and fortifications, I gathered that Keir did not care for the length of time it had taken for the castle to rise to its current heights.
The halls and corridors were strangely quiet as we proceeded, empty of the normal traffic of servants and nobles. It made me uneasy even as I led them into the castle chapel.
The room was lit with hundreds of candles, and behind the altar, the white marble statute of the Goddess gleamed brightly. She was lovely, her arms holding a basket of herbs and flowers, her face serene and peaceful. I paused in the center aisle and smiled.
“So it’s true. You worship people.” Surprised, I turned to see Joden standing behind me, looking around in amazement.
“This chapel is dedicated to the worship of the Goddess, The Lady of the Moon and Stars.” I fumbled around for the right words. “She is more than a ‘person.’”
“He means no offense,” Keir spoke softly as the others gathered around us, gaping and gawking. There was a general sense of disapproval. “It’s odd to see, that’s all.” Keir waved his hand to encompass the room. “Another difference between us.”
“A big difference,” Yers muttered, his crooked nose twitching.
On that note, I turned and lead them out, before one of the Priestesses should appear. Tensions were high enough without a religious debate.
“Your Goddess, she is a healer?” Keir moved up beside me.
“Yes,” I decided to show them my old room and headed in that direction. “She is the Goddess of Healing and Mercy.” I looked over my shoulder. “Not the kind of mercy granted on a battlefield.”
Keir grunted.
“There is a temple in the city to the God of the Sun, who is the God of Purity and Strength.”
“You worship the sun as a man?” Joden asked, his disbelief apparent in his voice.
“How did you come to be a healer?” Keir changed the topic so smoothly I had to smile.
“I was playing with one of my friends in the castle gardens, chasing him down the paths. We were very young and the kitchen maids lost track of us. We were running and laughing, and suddenly down he went, tripping over a huge… porcupine?” I wasn’t sure if they knew what the creature was, but a few people winced in sympathy.
“Needle-rat,” Rafe clarified, and now everyone understood.
“His face and arms were filled with quills and he started screaming and crying, and the kitchen maids came running, Anna came running, everyone was screaming and crying, so I started screaming and crying too.”
“A man appeared, a tall man who looked like a gray lake bird, tall and quiet. With a few words he calmed everyone down, and had my friend giggling as he dealt with the quills. Like a miracle, peace was restored.” The memory was a good one and I smiled at Keir. “He restored my world with his quiet voice and gentle skill.”
“As you wish to do.”
I nodded as I opened the door to my old room.
The room had been stripped down to its simple furnishings. Keir looked around and frowned. “This was your bedroom?” Prest and Rafe crowded in with us, the others watched from the door. Keir continued. “ Seems small for a Daughter of Xy.”