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Authors: Elizabeth Vaughan

Warlord (2 page)

BOOK: Warlord
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Since we'd resumed our march to the Plains, Keir had made some changes to my sleeping arrangements. My tent was a bit bigger now, enough that I could stand upright in it. He'd arranged extra padding for my bedding. It was saddle blankets folded and piled high, which made a very comfortable mattress. They were made from some kind of wool that I didn't recognize, but knew from its use in camp. But the biggest change, and the best change, was that I slept within his arms every night.

 

When we'd left Water's Fall, Keir had continued his practice of moving up and down the length of his army, in sight of his warriors and dealing with their morale. He'd left me in the center, where he'd thought I'd be better protected. But that had meant many nights of separation.

 

But now, with the events of Wellspring behind us, I traveled with him. Neither one of us wanted to be apart for any length of time. He continued to work with his warriors, of course, disappearing during the day to deal with any problems that arose. But every night he returned to our bed. To my arms. To me.

 

This night would be no different.

 

Marcus bustled about, keeping an eye on the warriors that set up our tent, and cooking over an open fire at the same time. I sat close to his fire, watching as he worked. Rafe and Prest had gone off to see to their own camps but Ander and Yveni remained, keeping watch over me. Once Keir arrived, they'd leave as well. While Keir circled our tent with guards, they stayed well back now, giving me an illusion of a bit of privacy.

 

Firelander had a very different attitude toward privacy then the customs I was raised with. For them bathing together and strolling nude was the custom, with no regard for modesty, even between men and women. As Joden had pointed out to me, there was little privacy to be found in the tents of the Firelander.

 

I sighed. Joden was something else I didn't want to think about.

 

In the overnight camps, no one wasted time cutting down trees for seats. Instead, we used the saddle blankets as pads. Dirt and moisture seemed to fall right off the odd wool. Seated by the fire, with a cloak over my shoulders, I was comfortably warm. Winter had moved into the mountains, and while we were moving down onto the Plains, frost still nipped at our heels. The sky was clear, it would be cold tonight.

 

Marcus was cutting meat and brewing kavage and would tolerate no help from me. I was too tired to do much more than sit. So I pulled my satchel close and opened the flap. I'd been using it since—

 

Since Gils died.

 

My hands stilled on the scarred leather. Gils was the young Firelander who'd asked to be my apprentice, breaking the traditions of his people. The image of his freckled face and red curls flashed before me. He'd been so young, so eager, with dancing green eyes and that cheeky grin.

 

I closed my eyes, and fought my tears.
Goddess, hold him close
.

 

And hold the souls of Epor and Isdra
. The warriors who'd entered the village with me, and were the first to face the plague. Well, Epor had. Isdra had chosen to join her bonded, on the night of the mourning ceremony. Their faces, too, flashed before me. Along with the hundreds that had died of a sickness that I couldn't prevent or cure.

 

If only…

 

"Here," Marcus's gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. A cup of kavage was held under my nose. "Drink. Stop thinking on the dead."

 

I took the cup, the dark and bitter brew steaming in the cool air. "Marcus—"

 

"Lara." Marcus's voice softened and I look up at him through my tears. "We have mourned the dead, and will bid them farewell on the longest night. It is enough."

 

"But, I miss them." I answered, wiping my eyes with my free hand. "And I regret—"

 

"They ride with us until the snows." Marcus responded. "Send your thoughts to them, yes. But not always the sorrow. Remember the joy as well. Like when the young'un read Simus's letter to you. Yes?"

 

I smiled at the memory. "Yes."

 

Marcus grunted in satisfaction, then returned to his work. I blew on the surface of the kavage and took a sip. The heat spread through my body, and I continued to sip, remembering Gils's eagerness, and the time I caught Epor and Isdra kissing by the well.

 

But there was still in ache in my heart.

 

The satchel had been Gils's. He'd made it from an old saddlebag, adding a thick strap and lots of pockets for 'useful things.' I'd used it since he'd died, but hadn't really cleaned it out. Just kept stuffing things in and rummaging around without really thinking about the contents. I pulled it closer, intending to empty it out and re-pack it

 

"Heyla!"

 

Keir was coming as a gallop. The sight brought a smile to my face, for he was quite a figure, dressed in his black leathers, on his big black warhorse, framed by the setting sun. I threw back the cloak and ran to greet him.

 

He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted with one swift move. His black cloak swirled out around him as he caught me in his arms, and hugged me tight, claiming my lips in a kiss. He smelled of horse and leather and himself, and I returned the kiss with passion.

 

He broke off with a laugh, and swung me up into his arms, striding toward our tent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and nuzzled his ear, certain of his intent and in complete agreement.

 

"And what of the food?" Marcus demanded, as Keir marched past the fire to our tent.

 

Keir spun on his heel, and faced him. "Marcus! Want to know the best part of being a Warlord?"

 

Marcus's eyebrow rose.

 

Keir's mouth curled up slowly into a smile. "Getting what I want."

 

I laughed as Keir turned back toward the tent.

 

A growl came from behind him. "The Warlord's dinner will be dumped in the dirt if Hisself does not eat it now."

 

Keir paused in mid-step. From his expression, he was torn with rare indecision.

 

"The meal is ready now. It will be eaten now."

 

Keir looked at me with such a sorrowful expression in his bright blue eyes. Just then his stomach rumbled, and I laughed right out loud.

 

 

 

We ate, as the sky above us turned a vivid dark blue and deepened to black. The stars hung bright in the night sky, with a moon that glowed through the trees. Marcus finished refilling our mugs with kavage, and was cleaning the remains of our meal away when he asked his question. "How goes it with the warriors?"

 

I was seated next to Keir, leaning against his shoulder, a cloak over both of us. But I leaned back a bit to see his face as he replied.

 

Keir sighed. "Not as well as I could wish. Iften talks, and the warriors look at empty pack animals and empty saddle bags, and wonder if they have done the right thing in following me." He reached over to stoke my hair. "I tell my truths, but words weigh little."

 

I leaned over and brushed his lips with mine. There wasn't much that I could say to that. Keir's conquest of Xy was a break in tradition for the Firelander. Their normal practice was to raid and plunder what they could, to return to the Plains laden with spoils. But Keir wanted to change their ways, to conquer and hold, for the benefit of both peoples.

 

"Fools." Marcus grumbled. "They can't see past the heads of their horses."

 

"But Keir, that's not quite true. They've pots of fever's foe, and that bloodmoss that we gathered." I yawned. "They know more than they did before about fevers." Goddess knew that was true. We'd pots and pots of fever's foe left from treating the plague, and everyone had aided in the treatment of the sick. I'd spread the extra out, making sure that everyone had some, and were watching for signs of the plague's return. If the Sweat re-appeared in our ranks, I wanted to know. Every warrior had agreed to carry some, and keep watch.

 

Except Iften.

 

Keir gave me a thoughtful look. "That's a truth I had not considered, Lara."

 

I smiled at him, and then yawned again, so hard my jaw cracked and my eyes watered. My stomach was full, and I was warm and growing sleepy.

 

Keir leaned in, taking the cup of kavage from my hand. "You are tired tonight, beloved." He moved closer, and put his arm around me. The warmth felt good, and I leaned in, putting my head on his shoulder.

 

"She asked for lessons." Marcus answered softly. "She wants to be able to protect you."

 

"Protect me?"

 

I nodded, even as I felt sleep overtake me. Their voices continued, as the fire crackled. Then we were moving, and I found myself under the blankets with Keir at my side. I roused just enough to murmur a question in his ear.

 

He chuckled softly. "Warlords also learn to wait for what they want. Sleep, Lara."

 

Content, I drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

At some point I felt Keir slip out from under the furs. I lifted my head, my eyes half open, to see him standing there, talking to one of the guards. I must have made some sort of questioning sound, for Keir turned toward me, his eyes glittering in the faint light. He gestured for me to return to sleep.

 

I let my head sink down, grateful that I didn't have to emerge from my warm bed. I'd adopted the Firelander custom of sleeping naked. It made more sense to my way of thinking. Less clothing for Marcus to clean, for example. A sign of my respect for the Firelander. Goddess knew, Keir seemed… appreciative.

 

But as convenient as the custom was, crawling naked from warm covers to dress in cold clothes left something to be desired. So I lay my head back down and let sleep take me.

 

 

 

Much later, I roused again when Keir slid back into bed. He made every effort to keep the cold air from me, but his arm brushed mine in the process.

 

His skin was cold.

 

He whispered an apology and pulled away. But I'd have none of that. Without really opening my eyes, I moved closer.

 

He was
cold
. Fool Warlord, standing outside to talk to the guards, naked. I shifted slowly, crawling over him to press my body as close as I could.

 

He drew a deep breath as I covered his body with mine. A shudder ran through him as I pressed my breasts to his chest, letting my warm skin come into full contact with his chilled flesh. I lifted one hand to cup his cheek, and used the other to stroke the muscles of his upper arm.

 

I moved my legs between his, and tried to place my feet so that they covered his toes. With my head on his shoulder my hair spread out like a blanket over him. I hummed in pleasure at the feel of his body. The soft skin of his stomach, the coarse hairs of his legs. The occasional scar. All of it Keir. My Keir.

 

He relaxed beneath me, whispering thanks. I just smiled, and let my thumb trace the soft skin of his lips. The blankets and furs held the heat of our bodies and the scent of his skin.

 

There were sounds of movement outside, probably a change of the guards. The wind was picking up, causing the tent to vibrate a little. We were coming down out of the mountains, but the chill of winter followed at our heels. Yet within this small shelter we were warm, safe, and dry.

 

Gradually Keir's body warmed and I shifted off to his side, so that the poor man didn't have to bear my weight. I was careful to return to my side of the bed. Keir slept with his weapons next to him, and I'd no desire to bed that cold steel. I nestled down next to him, content with his comfort and ready to return to sleep.

 

But I'd warmed Keir in more than one way…

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Now it was Keir's turn, his hands moving over my skin, causing my heat to rise. His touch was gentle and I sighed at the pure pleasure of it.

 

Encouraged, Keir claimed my lips and we spent long slow moments exploring each other's mouths. Not that his hands stopped for a moment, teasing my skin with soft strokes of his fingertips. I squirmed as he caressed my thighs, wanting more. "Keir . . ."

 

He chuckled softly. "There is no hurry, Lara."

 

"Keir," I pleaded, but he just kissed me again.

 

Boldly, I reached for what I craved, but he captured my wrists in one hand, thwarting my efforts. I growled, he laughed, and we tussled for a moment until he pinned my wrists over my head.

 

The bedding had fallen away and the cold air danced over my heated skin, tightening my nipples and stealing my breath from my body.

 

Keir loomed over me. There was just enough light to see his eyes glittering with desire, and a playfulness that I'd never seen before.

 

I lifted my head, trying to gain his mouth, but he would only allow my lips to brush against his. I lay back, and puffed out a breath in frustration. Satisfied, he lowered his mouth to my chest, licked the skin between my breasts, and blew over the moist area. I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation.

 

Keir didn't stop, exploring my breasts with his mouth, ignoring the tips to concentrate on the flesh around them. I'd never felt that my breasts were attractive, being on the small side.

 

Keir seemed content.

 

He slipped his free hand under my back, forcing me to arch up into his mouth. Lips, tongue, even the barest scrape of his teeth, all combined to make me shiver.

 

"Keir," I begged.

 

"Lara," he murmured.

 

The cold air only accented the heat between our bodies. His legs moved over mine, keeping them pressed to the bed. I moaned, trying to shift him, trying to give him access, but he ignored me, and continued to worship my breasts.

 

Finally, he moved his hand to cover my lower belly, letting his warm fingers splay out. I moved my hips, but he wouldn't let his fingers move any lower.

 

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

 

My eyes opened wide to stare into his. "I'm not. . . not really. I'm—"

 

"Perfect." His lips hovered over mine. "Everything you are is beautiful, flame of my heart."

 

I sobbed.

 

He moved then, his fingers seeking out my depths and stroking gently. He released my wrists and I clung to him, crying out my joy and pleasure all at the same time. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more, wanted him, and with a swift move he entered me, and I had what I wanted, and more, so much more.

 

 

 

We both lay gasping, our over-heated bodies cooling in the night air. Reaching for the blankets and furs almost seemed like too much effort, but I stirred, knowing that we'd need their warmth. I pulled them up and over us. They still held our heat, and I settled back with a sigh, making sure we were both well covered.

 

Keir opened his eyes and gave me a sated smile as I settled in next to him. We held each other close, and were just starting to drift off to sleep when he spoke. "You were hurt."

 

His hand was on my upper arm. I nodded. "Just a bruise. I didn't block the blow."

 

"Marcus said you want to learn to fight." He rubbed my arm gently. "To protect me."

 

"It scared me, when Iften . . ." My voice trailed off as I remembered finding Iften standing over Keir, as he lay in the grips of the plague.

 

Keir wrapped his arms around me, and I lay my head on his chest. "It warms me that you want to do this, Lara." His voice was soft in the darkness. "And to some extent, Marcus is wrong. With enough practice, you could become a fighter, if you choose. Maybe not as fast as those of the Plains, but with training you could do it. You could do anything, if you minded to."

 

I smiled against his chest.

 

"But your time is better spent at what you do best, Master Healer," Keir suggested. "Learn how to react, and to work with your guards, to be sure. But think on the abilities that you have now, and not the ones you don't have."

 

I lifted my head. "Just as well. All that armor is hot and uncomfortable. It makes me sweat."

 

His eyes took on a gleam, and he rolled me to my back. "Is there something wrong with sweaty?"

 

"Nothing at all." I laughed as I hooked my arm over his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine. "Let me prove it to you again."

 

And again . . .

 

 

 

The next morning I woke, with a smile on my face, to an empty bed. Keir had probably left me before dawn, his usual practice.

 

I stretched under the warm covers and relaxed. That was when I noticed the silence. Where were the normal sounds of the morning, the sound of moving warriors?

 

How late had I slept?

 

I reached out for the pile of clothing I'd left close to the bed. I eased them into the warmth, and lay there for a moment, letting them lose some of their chill before dressing quickly. I slung my satchel over my head and settled it on my hip before emerging from the tent.

 

Marcus was sitting there, with my guards. When I came out, they sprang up, and started moving toward the tent. Marcus spoke, his voice cutting through my morning fog. "Finally."

 

"Marcus?" I stepped out, pulling my cloak on behind me. As I left the tent, I heard it collapse behind me, and saw that Rafe, Prest and Ander were disassembling it even as I drank.

 

"Hisself said to let you sleep, and so I did," Marcus explained, as he thrust out a piece of bread with cold meat wrapped in it, and a cup of kavage. "We must ride to catch him."

 

I stuffed the food in my mouth, nodding even as I chewed. Marcus kicked the fire out and poured the last of the kavage into my cup, before packing the rest of his gear. I drank the bitter brew and looked around. The sky was a bright blue, with not a cloud anywhere to be seen. But snow lurked beyond the mountains. I could smell it in the brisk air.

 

The army had already packed up and started moving. I could see the last of the warriors and horses moving off into the trees. How I'd slept through that I'd nev—

 

Then I remembered what Keir and I had done last night, and smiled into my kavage.

 

Marcus moved off to aid Rafe and Prest in the packing. Ander and Yveni went for one of the pack horses that stood nearby. Greatheart was with the other horses. He was asleep, of course. I was fairly certain that was why he'd been picked for me, given my so-called riding skills. I gulped more kavage as the activity caused the big brown horse to open his eyes. When he spotted me, he whickered, and started to walk my way. The other horses shook themselves as well, as if understanding that we were about to leave.

 

"Where is Keir?" I asked as I finished the kavage down to the dregs. I felt much more alert with each swallow.

 

"We ride to meet him," Rafe answered, securing the packs on the horses. He said nothing more, but he had a slight smirk on his face, which was mirrored on Prest's lips. Something was up.

 

Greatheart was smelling my hair, and I reached out to stroke the scar on his chest and to scratch his ears. He was a good-sized horse, and I had to chuckle at the idea that I might be able to leap onto his back.

 

"Hurry." Marcus gestured for me to mount. The guards waited until I was settled in the saddle before they mounted as well, and we took off at a trot.

 

It didn't take long, since the army was moving at a walking pace. Marcus kept up our pace as we passed the warriors, clearly intent on catching Keir as quickly as possible. A few of the warriors called greetings to me as we passed, but others scowled. I had to sigh at the clear evidence that Iften was still spreading dissent among the ranks.

 

After a while, Marcus raised his head and warbled out a cry, calling to Keir. There was a response up ahead, and Marcus urged the horses to a gallop. Rafe and Prest had the lead, with Ander and Yveni following, easily keeping up the pace.

 

Then we broke free from the trees to see Keir galloping toward us.

 

We came together, and brought the horses to a stop. "Herself slept long," Marcus explained.

 

"She had good reason." Keir's face was neutral, but there was a gleam in his eye. I blushed, which made the corners of his eyes crinkle up. He sidled his horse close to Greatheart and leaned over to stroke my cheek with his hand. "I would ask something of you."

 

"Yes?"

 

He cleared his throat. "I would give you your first glimpse of the Plains, if you would come. The scouts found it during their sweep. You can see the Plains from there, and I wish to be the one to show you."

 

"Of course."

 

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Would you . . . could I..."

 

I gave him a puzzled look, since it wasn't like him to be indecisive.

 

Keir puffed out a breath in frustration. "I would have you in my arms for this first sight of my land." He held out his arm in a pleading gesture.

 

Without a word, I leaned over so that he could wrap his arm around my waist and pull me into the saddle in front of him. "I'd like nothing more, my Warlord," I whispered as I settled in front of him.

 

He flushed with pleasure, and urged his horse on. Greatheart followed, as did the others.

 

We headed off into the trees, working our way at an angle down a small track. I nestled in closer to Keir and felt his arms tighten around me. We'd ridden this way the second time he'd claimed me. Or I had claimed him, depending on who was talking. It felt right that my first sight of the Plains would be in Keir's arms.

 

The trail took us past a stone wall, overgrown with vines and falling down in some places. I craned my neck to see through the gaps what seemed to be an old tower, fallen into disuse by the look of things. I wondered how it came to be here, along the border, but I had no idea—I'd studied healing, not history.

 

Keir urged his black along and it didn't take as long as I thought to reach the spot, or maybe the time just flew faster than I realized. But Keir spoke into my ear. "Close your eyes, Lara." I smiled, and closed them tight.

 

I felt the sun on my face, so we were out from under the trees. He pulled his horse to a stop, and I heard the others surround us. He adjusted our positions so that I was facing out, and then with a satisfied tone, spoke out loud. "Behold the Plains, Warprize."

 

I opened my eyes, and my stomach dropped.

 

We were on a ridge that dropped away at a steep angle. Beyond, we looked out to where the valley opened up, the trees ended, and the land rolled out like a great, wide carpet. The land shimmered with heat, red and yellow flames flickering in the distance.

 

"It's burning," I said with a hush.

 

Keir chuckled. "No, Lara. The grasses, they turn all colors of red before the seasons of the snows. The winds move the grasses. But I will admit that it looks like it is on fire."

 

Of course. The Firelands. That must be how they were named. I could just make out the front of the army starting to touch the foothills, the long line of warriors snaking back toward us, to be lost in the trees below. I glanced back for a moment at the old keep. What a view there must be from the top.

 

But my eyes were drawn back to the horizon, a long flat line that stretched out endlessly. The land spread out for as far as I could see. The sky was huge, bigger than I'd ever thought the sky could be. It spread from horizon to horizon, and I had no words to describe it, or how I felt. I'd lived my whole life in the shelter of the mountains, looking down the narrow valley from the Castle of Water's Fall. It did odd things to my stomach, to see the world open and exposed, so wild, so free, so ... limitless.

 

Just as my life had opened when Keir had claimed me.

 

I swallowed hard, taking it all in, and shivered. I'd grown comfortable with Keir, with his people. The last few weeks, I'd been so busy dealing with so many problems that I'd forgotten to be afraid.

 

But here I was, standing on the border of a strange land, speaking a foreign language, dealing with a people whose ways were strange and new. Now that I actually stopped to think about it, a wave of fear and home-sickness washed over me.

 

Keir's arms tightened, and his hands took mine in their warmth. "Do not fear, Lara," he murmured in my ear.

 

"It's just so different," I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away, unwilling to show him the fear in my eyes.

BOOK: Warlord
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