Warlord (30 page)

And beyond.

I sat and contemplated my satchel. The sun hung high over my head. Those goat-like creatures had moved further down the stream, chortling and chuckling among themselves.

What was I going to do?

It was all very well to decide to live, to carry out Keir's vision, but just how was I going to do that?

What did I want to do?

I pulled one of the long blades of grass, and played with it. What did I want?

I wanted Keir.

My tears threatened again, but I dashed them away. I needed to think, not weep.

I wanted to go back to Xy. It made no sense to stay on the Plains, especially if my status as Warprize was not going to be confirmed. With Keir gone, I wasn't sure that was even possible anymore.

I wanted Keir.

My head snapped up, and I knew what I wanted. What I needed to do.

I wanted to go home. And I wanted to take Keir with me.

It made no sense, of course. To go back to the Heart of the Plains and demand the body of my Warlord? Goddess alone knew who survived that fight, who was in control. But even Iften had a degree of honor. I was almost certain that an unarmed woman would not be killed outright.

Almost certain.

I was going to return to the Heart of the Plains and claim my Warlord.

I used my sleeve again, to dry my eyes. If they'd burned him, I'd demand the ashes. I'd let Reness know that I'd heal any that came to me, and teach healing to anyone who wanted to learn. That keep by the border, the one that overlooked the Plains. We could rebuild it into a school of healing. Those of the Plains who came in peace would be welcome.

Yes. That was what I would do. But first, I was going to claim my Warlord, and find out what had happened in the Heart. Who lived? Who was in charge? Perhaps Rafe or Prest survived? They hadn't been with the dead, but—

Marcus hadn't been either.

I worried my lower lip with my teeth. If Marcus were dead, he'd be at Keir's side; I'd no doubt of that. I tried to remember what I'd seen, if there'd been anyone with Keir. But he'd been so far back, and I'd been crying . . .

I wasn't sure.

But there was a chance that Marcus lived.

I glared at the hapless blade of grass in my hands. I'd claim Keir's body. I'd claim Marcus as well, dead or alive. I might just give what was left of the Council a piece of my mind, while I was at it.

I glanced over to see that Greatheart was napping, his head down, his hips cocked to the side. Poor old beast. He'd worn himself out carrying me to safety.

The more I thought about it, the more I knew this was what I had to do. I was going to go and find my Warlord and claim him for a final time. I'd take him back, to lie on the borders of our lands. I'd lie next to him, eventually. When the time came.

I started crying again, for what we'd lost. Our time together, the life we would have shared. The children we would have had, watching them grow, and having children of their own.

Goddess, Lady of Mercy and Light, please let me be pregnant.

My stomach rumbled again, and I reached back into the satchel for a few more pieces of gurt. I should conserve my supplies, but my stomach wanted gurt, and it wanted gurt now. I shrugged, and ate, following it with more of the water from the stream. That would have to hold me for a while.

I stood, slung my satchel over my shoulder, and brushed myself off. The sun was starting to move. If I was going to do this, I needed to set aside this pain for now. My grief could wait. I had to get moving.

I dug back into the satchel and took out some of those bandages to wrap around my hands. Greatheart woke with a snort as I tugged on his mane. It took me a while to get on, without a saddle, but he stood patiently as I pulled myself up.

Once mounted, I looked around and realized I didn't have a clue how to get back to the Heart. There were no landmarks, no roads. The herds were not moving in any particular pattern that I could make out.

"Greatheart, take me back," I asked.

His ears twitched, but he didn't move.

"Home," I tried.

Nothing.

"Back," I tried again. "Return?"

Greatheart shook his head, and looked like he was falling back asleep.

"What am I going to do?" I asked.

The goats' heads all popped up from the grasses around the stream, and they all looked off to the left. Greatheart looked in the same direction, and whinnied, as if in welcome.

A shiver went down my spine. Slowly, I turned my head.

There were four warriors on horseback, on the farthest ridge.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck. Even at this distance I could make out Epor's smile, and Isdra's braid. Gils's mop of hair, and Keir . . .

Oh beloved.

His armor gleamed, the hilts of his two swords jutting over his shoulder.

I shuddered, even as my eyes filled with tears. The riders were colorless, somehow, as if the sunlight was going right through them. But clearly, Marcus was not there. That gave me a shred of hope, and that was enough for now.

Epor and Isdra disappeared behind the ridge. Keir lifted his arm, and gestured for me to follow. He and Gils disappeared, following Epor and Isdra out of sight.

I took a deep breath, and pointed Greatheart in that direction, and urged him into a trot.

* * *

"STOP!"

Greatheart snorted, and pulled up short. We'd been traveling for some time, trotting along on the path set for us by the dead. I'd only caught a few glimpses of them since we'd started out, always at a distance, always when I'd lost my sense of direction. But it had been a good hour since we'd seen them last.

Startled by the command, I looked over to the left and blinked in surprise. There was a mounted warrior, scowling fiercely at me, weapon at the ready. Her mount looked angry as well, stomping its foot.

I'd have been terrified, except that the warrior wielded a wooden blade, and I had tunics that were older than the warrior. The girl was dressed in leathers, her hair pulled back in a braid. She looked fierce, and determined, but it was hard not to laugh right out loud at the child.

She was mounted on one of those furry goats.

I stifled my smile, for I'd no wish to offend. "Greetings, warrior."

The girl swelled with pride. "I am Pive of the Snake, Warrior of the Plains, and Guardian of the Gurtle Herds," she proclaimed in a ringing voice twice her size.

"Greetings, Pive of the Snake." I inclined my head toward her. "I am—"

"You are an intruder! And my captive!" Pive waved her sword. Greatheart shied a bit, uneasy. I had visions of my shins taking a beating from that blade. "You must come with me, to my camp, and surrender to my warleader."

"Who is your warleader?"

"Gilla of the Snake." Pive's face was screwed up with determination. "Surrender or die."

I shrugged. "As you wish, warrior."

Poor little Pive almost fell off her gurtle at the ease of her conquest. Her mouth gaped open, then she recovered and gave me a grin that ran from ear to ear. "Follow me!" She sheathed her sword, and tugged on the reins. "Hup! Hup!"

"MUWAPP!" the gurtle protested, but it turned and started off at a trot.

I could grin now. Pive's legs were lost in the fat, fluffy fur, but her toes hung down, almost scraping the ground.

I urged Greatheart to follow my captor.

It didn't take long. Over two rises and down along a ridge, I could see a tent close to a small pond, surrounded by gurtles.

Pive was overcome with her accomplishment. "Heyla!" she called, forcing her gurtle into a gallop.

The gurtle ran, but it complained the entire way. The gurtles of the herd all answered those complaints with their own, setting off a chorus that could probably be heard for miles.

The tent flap opened, and an older girl emerged, followed by a boy at least her age. Their weapons were metal, their faces grim.

"Pive! Stop this noise!" the girl called out, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of me on my horse. "Warprize!"

"No, Gilla! That's my prize," Pive said as she dismounted, and hopped up and down in her glee. Her mount shook itself all over, and then plopped down right where it was standing. Pive paid it no mind. "My prize! I captured her!"

"Warprize?" the boy asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I saw her, in the Heart," Gilla answered, moving toward me. "Our tents were near hers." She looked up at me, frowning with concern. "Warprize, I am Gilla of the Snake. Please let me offer you the courtesy of our camp."

Pive stamped her foot in frustration. "No, no. She can't be the Warprize. She's not stinky, she doesn't have sores like a city-dweller. And she doesn't breathe fire!"

"PIVE!" Gilla scolded. "Be silent!"

"Pive, come with me." The boy extended his hand. "We need to cry the others in for the night."

Pive's face lit up. "El, you'll let me warble?"

"I will." El smiled. "Bring your mount so we can get him a drink."

Pive took up the reins, and the gurtle stood. "Want to hear how I captured her?" Pive asked.

El gave us an amused look over his shoulder before turning to listen to Pive as they walked off.

Gilla gave me a wry smile. "I am sorry, Warprize. Pive meant no offense."

"I took none." I slid down from Greatheart's back.

Gilla gestured to the fire. "Please come and sit. Have you eaten?"

Greatheart ambled down to the edge of the pond for a drink. I kept an eye on him, not wanting to lose my mount. Gilla poured kavage, and offered me a mug.

"No, thank you, Gilla." I walked to the edge of her fire. A childish voice rose in a long warbling cry behind us.

"They call the other children in, for the evening meal," Gilla explained. "You are more than welcome to spend the night." She looked in the direction that I'd come from. "Do you travel alone?"

I had to admire her subtlety. "Yes."

She gave me an intent look. "Something has happened, hasn't it. In the Heart? We've had no news."

I nodded. "Can you tell me how to get back there?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Warprize, I'd offer to guide you myself, but I cannot leave. I have duties—"

"The children and the herds."

"Just so." Gilla may have been all of twelve or thirteen, but she acted like a woman my age. "I could guide you in the morning."

I shook my head. "No. I can't wait. And it might be dangerous to be seen with me."

She sighed. "Very well. You'll need to make good time, to get to the Heart before dark."

Greatheart walked back to my side, and stood next to me. I checked the wrappings on my hands and then mounted. She eyed me closely as I settled onto his back. "At least let me give you gloves, Warprize, to protect your hands."

I shook my head. "No. I take nothing except from my Warlord's hands. Just tell me how to get there."

"Follow that ridge, until it meets with a river." She pointed off to the left. "Then just follow the river downstream. You will mount a rise and see the Heart laid out before you, Warprize." She looked up into my eyes. "May the skies favor you."

"And you as well. Thank you for your courtesy, Gilla of the Snake."

She inclined her head, and I urged Greatheart into a trot. I'd demands to make, and a Warlord to claim.

The Heart looked different somehow.

Greatheart and I paused at the top of the rise, to get our bearings. And to give me a chance to work up my courage. It looked different, and this time, it wasn't the size, or the shifting of the tents. There, beyond the herds, it looked like the place was buzzing with activity. People moving everywhere.

There were pyres burning by the lake shore.