Warlord

Chapter 7

“Blind hatred is a weakness.”

I said nothing, just watched as Keekai reached from her pallet to add fuel to the brazier. The flames rose and made the light flicker and dance over the walls of her tent.

She’d called a halt before the nooning and ordered a hunt for fresh meat. The camp was guarded, and Iften was roaming the perimeter, keeping watch over me from a distance. Keekai had us warm in her tent, bells in the flap, and a pot of kavage between us. Her warriors were without, with instructions to make sure that no one came near. We were as private as we could be on the Plains.

It was just as well she’d ordered that we make camp early. We’d ridden into a fine mist of rain, and the damp and the cold had seeped into my bones. I could imagine what it did to Keekai’s body.

“I do not know the truth of all that has been, and can only speak the truth that I know.” Keekai looked at me from her nest of blankets. “You understand?”

I nodded, unwilling to interrupt.

“I am no Singer, but you must know of the past before I can say more.” Keekai rubbed her knees beneath the covers. “Long ago, a Warlord claimed the first Warprize. Together, they united all the tribes of the Plains. They created the Council of Elders as the wisdom of the Plains, the Singers as the knowledge, the Theas as the spirit. The Warrior-priests were supposed to be its strength.”

Keekai sighed deeply and her shoulders slumped under the blankets. “It worked well, for a time. But something happened. The warrior-priests began to claim to speak for the elements, to have magic that they alone wielded.”

Keekai paused, adjusting her blankets, and I poured us both more kavage. She pulled her hands out and held the mug in her blanket-covered lap.

“Now, Keir has always had the strength of a warrior. But he also has a heart, a caring for his people. It hurts him to see people suffer, and it infuriates him to see one in pain and another stand by and do nothing.”

“Is that what the warrior-priests do?”

Keekai nodded. “They only use their magic on those they decide are worthy.” She fixed me with an intent stare, as if trying to find the right words. “With Keir, the reason for his anger,” she hesitated, “there was a woman—”

My heart froze in my throat. My face must have reflected my feelings, for Keekai stopped and frowned. “No, not a binding. A young woman raised beside him, eh? Of his tribe. Do you understand?”

“Like a sister?”

Keekai looked puzzled. “I do not know this word.” I explained, and her face cleared. “Yes, yes. One does not lie down with a member of one’s tribe. We track the blood of all, to insure strength in the children.” Keekai pulled the blankets off her shoulder to show me her tattoos. “We do not mate or bond with the tribes of the ones that made us.”

“Yes.” I relaxed. “I understand.”

“So.” Keekai adjusted her blankets again, pulling them up and over her shoulders. “There was a woman of his tribe, who was bearing her first. It did not go well, and the woman died. I think, in the end, she was given mercy.

“Keir was enraged, for a warrior-priest refused to use his magic to aid her.” Keekai looked over my shoulder, staring into the past. “Marcus had him dragged off and restrained, lest he challenge every warrior-priest and die in trying to kill them all. Keir saw reason. Eventually. But he vowed to destroy them.” Keekai stopped, and took a drink of kavage, then set the mug down. “Destroy them all.” She shook her head. “His hatred blinds him to his danger. And yours.”

“And Marcus?” I asked. “What did the warrior-priests do when he was injured?”

She grimaced. “I was not there, but this truth I know, that it only added fuel to Keir’s rage. Keir commanded Marcus to live, and Marcus obeyed.”

“What is Marcus’s tribe, Keekai?”

“Marcus has no tribe, Lara.” Keekai’s eyes were filled with sorrow.

I sucked in my breath.

She nodded. “I did not think you truly understood what you did, choosing him as Guardian. Marcus is no longer of a tribe, no longer of the Plains.”

I chewed my lower lip, trying to remember. “When I first met Marcus, he said that he was ‘token-bearer and aide to the Warlord’.”

Keekai’s face grew grim. “That is all he is. If not for Keir’s protection . . .”

“Marcus would die,” I finished.

Keekai nodded. “Just so. By his own hand, like as not.”

I stared into my kavage. “That is not right.”

“Life on the Plains is hard.” Her voice sounded so much like Marcus’s, I lifted my head, almost expecting his eye to be glaring at me. But instead, Keekai’s blue eyes blazed at me, sending shivers down my spine. “Harder than you know,” she continued. “For hear now the truth that the Elders know, and will not speak of. The People of the Plains are dying.”

I sat upright, and sloshed my kavage in my lap. “Why?”

“We do not know why. Warriors in battle, that is to be expected. But there are more deaths during the snows, more women are dying in childbirth. Worse, our babes are dying without reason. Half the children born do not see the first true blades.”

“Keekai, that’s—” I swallowed hard. “Children do die, of fevers and accidents and the like, but not at that rate.”

She nodded again, still grim. “None outside the Council know this, although I think that Keir has come to his own understanding of our plight. When he was named Warlord this spring, the lots awarded him Xy. He stood before all, the Elders and the Eldest, and announced that he would conquer Xy. With the intent of learning and absorbing their ways and knowledge.” A grin flashed over her face, so much like Keir my heart skipped a beat. “So imagine their faces when word comes on the wind that Keir of the Cat had claimed a Warprize, one who holds a healing magic of her own. The news rolled like a storm over the Plains.” Keekai’s arm emerged from the blankets to sweep the air before her.

I smiled back in answer to her grin, but then I remembered something that Keir had said. “Keekai, what is a ‘Warking’?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Now, where would you have heard that word?”

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. Keir had said to trust her, but had I said too much? Regardless, the goats were out the gate now, and eating corn. “From Keir. He was ill and raving when he spoke the word.” Even now I could see him, in my mind’s eye, fighting the restraints and howling. ‘Fear the day Keir of the Cat is named Warking!’

“Raving?” Keekai asked.

“Like the battle madness,” I responded, not wanting to have to give a lengthy explanation.

“Ah.” She tilted her head to the side, and studied me. “Not a word to use lightly. Nor would I say it outside the bells. I am not surprised to hear that Keir’s thoughts move in that direction now.”

I waited, nervous.

“A Warking is a warrior that stands above all, even the Council.” Keekai rubbed a finger over her eye. “There have been only two in the past, who rose when we of the Plains faced dire threats.”

“You think Keir intends to become one?” I asked.

“I do not pretend to know that one’s truths.” Keekai was deadly serious, her eyes never leaving mine. “But speak of this only to him and to Marcus. You understand?”

“I do,” I answered quietly.

Keekai shook her head again, as if in despair. “I have told that fool of a warlord that blind hatred of the warrior-priests is a dangerous thing. But that one, he is stubborn. Knows what he wants, and gets it.”

I blushed and looked away, knowing that trait in Keir very well.

Very well indeed.

The hunters returned, with an odd looking deer that they soon had spitted and roasting. Keekai and I emerged to hear the tale of the hunt.

The warrior-priests seemed no different from the other warriors in their excitement over the hunt and the kill. I watched closely, trying to see the differences in the details of the tattoos.

Iften, grim and brooding, wasn’t far away. He’d seated himself off with a group of older warrior-priests, and he was talking. From the glances that came my way, he was spilling his hatred into their ears.

I gritted my teeth, and tried not to think of going over and spitting on his shoes. I reminded myself that it would be mean-spirited. That it would bring me down to his level.

That it would feel really good.

“We spotted some warriors of the Plains when we returned from the hunt.” One of the warrior-priests was talking to Keekai. “They kept their distance, followed us for a time, then disappeared over a ridge.”

“They didn’t identify themselves?” Keekai asked.

“No, Elder.”

“Odd,” Keekai said.

Still Waters was beside her. “Not so odd these days. The old ways of the plains, the courtesy of the land and of the tents, is gone.”

Keekai shot him a look. “Or perhaps they thought warrior-priests would not welcome an intrusion. Still, it is unusual.”

A grunt from Still Waters was the only response.

“A belly-full of meat, and kavage.” Keekai sat on her pallet and patted her stomach. “Well worth the stop, eh?”

I nodded, drinking the last bit of kavage from my cup.

“And look.” Keekai raised her hand into the air, and flexed her fingers for me to see. “The stiffness eases.”

“Good.” I smiled, pleased at the relief the salve gave her. Stiff joints and crooked fingers could be a source of terrible pain to the old. “Keekai, how old are you?”

“Eh?” she asked, tucking herself into the blankets.

“How many years do you have?”

“You count years?” Keekai looked at me as if I had grown horns.

I clenched my teeth. Honestly, how did these people manage? I thought for a moment. “How long did it take you to have your children?”

There was an odd look of remembered pain, but her voice was light when she answered. “Popped them out one after the other after my moon times came upon me.”

“Were you late getting your courses?”

“Moon times?” She shrugged. “They came when they came.”

“How many campaigns have you served in?”

Keekai’s face lit with pleasure. “My first was under Rize of the Hawk. ...” She proceeded to use that memory of hers to detail her military history. I counted out the campaigns, figuring that would come close to a year if the armies were disbanded before each winter.

“Then I became an Elder, and I have served to select the warlords seven times since then.”

I blinked, rechecked my figuring, and then looked at her in shock. Keekai wasn’t nearly as old as I thought she was.

She tilted her head to the side. “Your curiosity is satisfied?” She took my silence as such. “Then we must sleep. Still Waters will insist on an early start tomorrow, and I doubt he’ll agree to a halt until the sun is down!”

I stretched out under the blankets, listened to Keekai’s breathing, and thought about what I had learned.

Life on the Plains was hard. I knew that, or at least, I’d thought I’d known what that meant. But I didn’t, not really. I’d had all the comforts of city life, plus the advantages of living in a castle. I didn’t have a daily struggle for food and warmth, things I took for granted. But on the Plains, life itself was hard, harder on the body. Which meant that Keir wasn’t as old as I’d thought. Perhaps we were closer in age than I’d realized?

I turned onto my side, and pulled the covers up over my shoulder. The brazier was not putting out as much heat now, and the air felt colder. A slight breeze moved the side of the tent, and if I turned my head and looked up, I could see the stars through the smoke hole. I shifted deeper into the warmth of my bed.

Did they live in tents in the snow? How did they find food in the winter? Even with raiding, how could they have enough?

What did bearing five children do to a woman’s body?

Suddenly, I understood the depths of Keir’s desire to bring change to the Plains. And just how valuable he thought my skills were. But even more than that, how pleased he’d been that I’d treat any that came to me. Tend the wound of an enemy. Set the broken leg of another.

A snort from the other side told me that Keekai was finally asleep. I reached out my hand and pulled my satchel closer. Quietly, so as not to awaken Keekai, I dug in a side pocket and took out the damp piece of something that Iften had spit on my shoe. There was just enough light for me to study it. A mushroom, that I was certain. I smelled it carefully, but it didn’t have a strong odor. I rubbed it on my skin and waited, but there was no effect. I shrugged. Only one way to know for sure. I put it in my mouth and bit down.

An odd sweetish taste filled my mouth, and I swallowed. My heartbeat seemed louder, and the tent began to spin . . .

I spat it out into my hand. A medicine, akin to lotus leaf, but far more powerful and fast acting then any I knew. If it had this effect after Iften had chewed it for a time, what would it be like fresh? What uses could I put it to?

I studied the damp bit in my hand, then placed it back in my satchel. Maybe the light of day would let me determine which mushroom.

I settled back down, lost in thought. Was that the power of the warrior-priests? Using herbs to mask the pain, instead of treating it? No wonder Iften could still use his hand. No wonder they refused to help, probably where pain drugs offered no help.

Even in the warmth of my blankets, I shivered. How would the warrior-priests react to true, skilled healing? What would they do to Keir?

I slept, eventually. But my sleep was uneasy and filled with vague, fretful dreams.

Keekai and I were finishing our morning kavage when Still Waters asked to enter the tent.

“Would you have kavage?” Keekai offered. “Would you sit by my fire?”

“Thank you, but no,” Still Waters declined with a shake of his head, setting his long, matted braids to swaying. He remained standing just inside, stooped a bit so that his head didn’t touch the tent. “During the night, the guards spotted a group of riders watching the camp. Two went out to offer the warmth of our fires, but the strangers rode off as they were approached.”

Keekai frowned. “The courtesy of the Plains is not that dead.”

Still Waters grunted his agreement. His face remained neutral, but his voice was condescending. “Had we traveled faster—”

“Ready the horses,” Keekai cut him off. “Make sure that this day the scouts stay within sight.”

She turned to me as he left the tent. “Keep close to me and to Iften.”

“I will.” I rose, and reached for my satchel. “Do you think there will be a problem? I thought those of the Plains did not attack each other?”

“Would that we were of one mind, one thought, always in agreement.” Keekai strapped her sword to her waist. “But there are always those few who think with their sword. I doubt that there will be trouble. But—”

“Death comes in an instant.”

Keekai stopped and looked at me with sympathy. “I can hear Marcus’s voice in that. He taught you that lesson, did he?” I nodded. She grimaced and continued. “A harsh lesson, but that doesn’t change the truth of the words. Come. This day, we will ride hard.”

Before the plague had struck, Keir and I had feared that one of the villages of Xy had rebelled against us. Keir’s concern had been that I was a target, and so I’d been hastily dressed in ill-fitting armor, helmet, and given a shield to hide behind.

Afterwards, Marcus had made it a point to outfit me with something protective that actually fit. He’d located a metal helmet, and a vest of hardened leather that laced up the front and fit over my tunic. I had a hard time managing the shield, because of the weight. Marcus and Keir had been satisfied that the armor and helmet were enough to guard me. I’d gotten a blistering earful from Marcus when I said it still wasn’t very comfortable.

Apparently, that wasn’t a concern.

So Keekai had those items brought, and I donned them without a protest. The laces took a bit of work, and I braided my hair to tuck up under the helmet. That made it easier to deal with. And this helmet came with a chin strap, so it didn’t tip to the side, or fall on my nose like the last one.

That was a definite improvement.

Iften came up as I was adjusting the helmet and handed me my reins. His face was serious. “Mount.”

I nodded, and tried to mount with some grace. Iften frowned at me from the ground, took my satchel, and secured it to my saddlebags. He walked around Greatheart, checking the various straps that made up the tack. When he was satisfied, he mounted as well.

The camp was abuzz around us, as the last tents were taken down and packed. I looked around to find Keekai not far, mounting her own horse.

“Xyian.”

I turned, and lifted an eyebrow at Iften in surprise.

“If we are attacked by archers, do this.” He lay down the length of his horse, his body pressed tight along the horse’s spine, his face almost buried in the horse’s mane.

I tried it, laying down on Greatheart’s back, trying to mimic his actions. Greatheart stirred beneath me, turning his head to look at what I was doing.

Iften rose in his saddle and reached over to press at the base of my spine. “Lower still.”

I grunted, trying to press myself further down.

“You must be low, less of a target.” Iften removed his hand. “The horse is trained to run, if we are attacked and you lay flat like this. Do not try to guide the horse. He is smarter than you are. Your job is to stay on.” He sniffed. “If you can.”

I sat back up, adjusting my armor, and gave him a withering look. He ignored me.

“Your Guardian is right.” Keekai moved her horse close on my other side. “It is a good move for you.”

“One thing more.” Iften dismounted, and called out to one of the younger warrior-priests. “Dark Clouds, do you still have that spare shield?” Iften turned back to me. “Off.”

I got off my horse, but I was in no mood to deal with his rudeness. “The shield is too heavy for me. I just end up dropping it.”

The warrior-priest approached, as Iften dug in his saddlebags, and waited to hand the shield to Iften. The tattooed man waited patiently until Iften was ready for the item.

“My thanks,” Iften said. “Do you require—”

“No. As I said last night, it is an extra. You are welcome to it, warrior.”

Iften gave him a nod, and turned to me. “Turn around.”

“Why?”

He gave me an impatient look. “I will strap this to your back. The weight will not be a problem, and it will provide more protection.”

“Oh.” I turned and stood as Iften arranged the straps. I stood in silence as he worked, tugging at my armor. If he was going to act decently, so could I. “You get along well with the warrior-priests, better than anyone else.”

“Why not, since I was almost one of them.” Iften spoke absently as he tightened the strap.

“You were?” I turned, surprised at that bit of information.

Iften frowned at me, not pleased at his little disclosure. “Does it fit? Can you move?” I rolled my shoulders and moved my arms in a circle. “Fine,” he said. “Mount.”

Apparently Iften the Boar had a limit of polite conversation, and it had been reached. I turned and got back on my horse without saying another word.

We rode hard, Keekai setting a swift pace. She was no longer dawdling on an ordinary trip, now she was in deadly earnest. Everyone was on alert. The tension was enough to make my heart race and my stomach knot. I scanned the horizon like everyone else, looking for any sign of a threat.

Nevertheless, the horses still took priority. We stopped to water them, posting guards all around us. Each horse was quickly checked for problems as it drank. Everyone switched mounts at that point, quickly changing saddle and tack. I didn’t want to leave Greatheart, but I knew he needed a rest from bearing my weight. Still, I was afraid that I would lose him, since they didn’t string the horses together.

I need not have worried. Whether it was training or herd instincts, the riderless horses stayed with us. Keekai pressed us on, unwilling to stop even for a nooning. Everyone dug into saddlebags and pulled out food that was shared. Cold kavage, gurt, and some type of dried meat. It was very tough and hard to chew, but it took the edge off my hunger.

The warriors remained on alert, but after a while, when nothing happened, I fell into a kind of numbness, watching the never-ending grasslands pass with nothing to mark the land. Other than the streams and ponds that came out of nowhere, it was unending rolling red and yellow grasses.

Finally, as the sun neared the horizon, we stopped at a small pond, watering the horses yet again. Greatheart trotted up to me, snuffling my hair, and butting my chest. Keekai walked over and smiled at his actions. “I’ll have him saddled for you.”

I puffed out a breath. “We’re not stopping?”

“Another hour or two, and we will stop for the night.” She looked me over carefully. “Can you do that?”

I was tired, but I wasn’t going to admit to it, especially surrounded by warrior-priests and Iften. “I’m good for a few more hours. But don’t expect much from me in the way of talk tonight.”

“Aye to that,” she agreed wryly.

Our attackers rose out of the grass like specters and swooped around us, screaming and yelling. Startled out of a daze, I twisted in the saddle, confused and uncertain.

But not Iften. He was beside me, glaring. “Ride! Ride!”

Greatheart needed no further urging. He leapt forward at a gallop, hooves tearing at the sod. The warrior-priests surged around me, drawing in close to protect us. Keekai appeared next to me, her horse easily keeping pace with us.

I caught a glimpse of the enemy as one galloped past, aiming a bow in our direction. It was a warrior of the Plains, and I had a moment to wonder that it wasn’t a warrior-priest when Iften hissed, “Down.”

I almost fell forward, crushing my breasts down under the armor. My hands tangled with the reins and the coarse hair of Greatheart’s mane. His muscles bunched and moved beneath me. The thud of his hooves vibrated the length of my body. Gasping, I took deep breaths, trying to pull air into my body and quell my terror.

I was grateful for Greatheart’s long legs and strength that pushed us forward at such speed. But I knew my poor horse was tired after a day’s travel, as were the others.

We plunged on, surrounded on all sides. Greatheart’s hooves beat out a rhythm as fast as the beating of my heart. I pressed myself low to his back, my face pressed into his mane. Iften’s voice rang in my ears. ‘... if we are attacked, you lay flat. Do not try to guide the horse. Your job is to stay on.’

I was trying desperately to do just that. I wanted to look, but fear clawed at my throat and kept my eyes jammed shut. I could hear the sounds of horses, arrows, and war cries all around me.

Greatheart ran on.

I darted a look to the side, to see Keekai next to me. She appeared almost serene as she rode, as if she was a gentle lady out for a ride on a pleasant day. That image shattered when she nocked an arrow and drew, aiming at the enemy. Controlling her horse with her knees, concentrating on her target, she was a perfect portrait of a warrior.

She calmly released her arrow, only to draw another one. I couldn’t see if she’d hit, but she’d a slight satis fied look on her face as she aimed at another.

Could Iften use a bow?

I tightened my grip as Greatheart ran, and lifted my head just enough so that I could look at him.

Iften was there, riding hard beside me, his attention on the foe around us. He didn’t have a bow, but I could see a lance in his good hand.

His gaze flicked over me, and he frowned before he looked away. I got the message and focused on staying on Greatheart.

And still we ran.

Movement caught my eye and I saw Iften throw his lance and strike a warrior in the side. The warrior fell, and Iften pulled another lance. So sharp, so deadly. I remembered the damage they did when Keir was attacking Water’s Fall and shuddered at the memory of sharp stone shards in deep wounds.

A cry, then a clash of steel. But we never stopped, even as the swords clashed. Our attackers’ horses were fresher. I could feel a difference in Greatheart. His breathing was labored, and there was a tremble in his muscles that hadn’t been there before. He was tiring. So were the others.

But something changed. Iften moved up and turned Greatheart, forcing him to change direction. Keekai wasn’t alongside anymore, and I realized that the others in our party had somehow managed to drive the attackers away from me.

Greatheart slowed, and I looked back to see that the attackers were now only four, and surrounded. Even as I looked, two dropped from their saddles. Still Waters took another, and the last, realizing his plight, charged and broke through, intent on escaping.

With a cry, Iften launched his horse forward, chasing the lone warrior. I thought he’d try to capture him, but at the last minute, Iften rose in the saddle, and with his good arm, his off-arm, he threw his lance.

It took the warrior full in the back, and with a cry, the man tumbled out of the saddle, pierced through the chest, dead.

“Why did you do that?” Keekai was furious. We were all walking our horses, cooling them before bedding them for the night, watching as the warrior-priests saw to the dead. There were guards all around us, but the grasslands appeared to be empty of any threat.

“We could have learned his truths and discovered who was behind this attack!” Keekai snapped. “Dead, he is only silent.”

Iften smiled, a sickly false smile. “The heat of my fury was so great, that any would dare to attack the Warprize.”

“Don’t mock me, warrior,” Keekai spat, her face contorted in anger. She took a step toward Iften. For a moment, I thought he would offer a challenge, but he stepped back, and inclined his head in submission.

Keekai huffed, apparently satisfied.

Still Waters came up to us. “The dead are gathered, and stripped. We have their gear and horses. None recognize their faces or the fletchings on the lances.”

“They wanted her alive,” Iften stated flatly.

Keekai nodded in agreement.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“The way they attacked,” Keekai answered. “We will camp, and rest the horses. But before first light we will be up and on our way.”

Still Waters and Iften nodded their consent, and moved off to give the orders.

My body felt like my soul had been sucked out, I was so tired. I leaned against Greatheart’s shoulder and looked at Keekai.

She shook her head. “There is no help for it, Lara. I will send a message back for Keir, but we must ride hard and fast to the Heart of the Plains. Your safe arrival in the Heart is all that matters now.”

We rode then, from daybreak to sunset. I lost track of the days in the endless land. All I knew was the unending hours in the saddle, or asleep, with barely time to eat between.

So it took me a long moment when we topped yet another gentle rise, to understand what was spread out before me. It was sunset, and I’d thought we’d be making yet another short camp, until Keekai turned to me and pointed. “Behold, the Heart of the Plains.”

The sun was fiery red in the distance, starting to slip from the sky. There was just enough daylight to see the Heart, and I had to smile at myself. I’d expected a city, with some sort of structures.

But the Heart of the Plains was a city of tents.

It was huge, to rival Water’s Fall. But instead of marble or stone, there were tents of all shapes and sizes and colors. As the dusk rushed over us, lights began to appear, both inside and outside the tents, making everything glow.

Beyond the tents, I could see an enormous tent, far larger than any that I’d seen before. And beyond that, there was a shimmer, and I realized that it was water, a lake bigger than I’d ever seen.

I stared in amazement. Was there anything small on the Plains?

Before I could take it all in, Keekai was leading the way down off the ridge, and within moments we were within the city. The horses were exhausted, but they trotted with a lighter step, probably aware that their journey was over. We stayed together, and from all over, people turned to look and point at us. It was dizzying, the sights, the smells of cooking, the endless colors and noise. It was so very strange, and yet not that different from the sounds of the market back in Water’s Fall.

Exhausted, I clung to Greatheart, and tried to absorb it all. It seemed to take forever to pass through it all, but we finally came to a stop before the enormous tent that I’d seen in the distance. It was really more like a huge covered pavilion.

Keekai was at my knee, urging me to dismount. “Come, Lara.” She took my elbow, and I tried not to lean on her as I staggered forward, legs not used to walking after so many days in the saddle. We walked together into the huge tent and I stumbled a bit over some steps. The floor of this area was solid stone.

The pavilion was lit brightly with braziers. I blinked at the sight of men and women seated on stools on a three-tiered platform, widest at the top, and narrowing toward the bottom. Three figures were seated at the base, and the one in the middle rose as we approached. He was an older man, dressed in robes of bright red over leather armor, with a multi-colored sash at his waist that held a sword and two daggers. His face was brown as a nut, and deeply wrinkled. There was no welcome there, no smile at all. We stopped, and the man gestured Keekai away from me. I thought for a moment that she would protest, but instead she inclined her head, and went to an empty stool on the second tier, off to the side. I swayed slightly as she moved away, feeling naked and alone.

Iften appeared next to me. Even he showed signs of exhaustion, but he stood tall and proud. “I was chosen as Guardian by Xylara, Daughter of Xy. I have brought her here, safe and sound, to stand before the Council of Elders at the Heart of the Plains.”

The man nodded his head, and spoke. “You have served well, Iften of the Boar, and the Daughter of Xy is now under our protection. You are released from your duties, with our thanks.”

Iften spun on his heel, and glared at me with eyes filled with hate. He paused as he stepped past me. “You and your poisons made it to the Heart. But we of the Plains can learn to use poison, too. Remember that, Xyian.”

I leaned away, conscious of the threat he posed, but he brushed past and left.

“Outlander.” The Elder in the middle faced me, his voice ringing out to everyone’s ears. “You stand before the Council of the Elders of the Plains, to answer the charges that have been brought against you.”

Charges? I wanted to look at Keekai, but couldn’t tear my eyes from the figure in front of me.

“Outlander. You have lied to a warrior of the Plains. You have brought death and affliction to hundreds of our warriors. You have caused the death of a bonded pair, and caused them to die in shame. You have brought the filth of your cities to the Plains. You honor those afflicted by the elements.” He glared, and pointed a wrinkled finger at me. “Worse still, you claim to be able to raise the dead.”

Stunned, I stood there, my mouth hanging open.

“So tell us, Outlander, what do you bring to the Plains, other than lies, affliction and death?”