Warlord (12 page)

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."