Warlord (40 page)

Still, we'd walk it together.

Everyone spilled out of the lodge behind us, into the snow. They were silent for the most part, although there were no few gasps at the beauty. Heads tilted up to look in awe at the moonless sky, filled with stars. I felt like I could reach up, and gather a handful. I'd never seen so many tiny points of light, stretching out over the land.

Our mood was a somber one as we walked, even Simus was subdued. We carried torches, but none were lit yet. Instead, we all walked in darkness as Joden headed for the stone circle. The wind kept it clear of snow, and he'd decided it would be the perfect place for this ceremony.

Joden was still not a full Singer, having decided to delay asking for that status. He'd wait until his heart was truly healed. But Keir had asked him to lead the ceremony for this night, and he'd agreed.

For this was the Longest Night and all over the Plains, in the scattered tribes, people emerged from their winter lodges to participate in this ceremony.

Keir looked back, to make sure that I was managing. I gave him a wide smile, and he returned it. Marcus was behind us as well, as was every man, woman, and child.

An odd sense of peace filled me this night. I could almost find it in my heart to forgive Xymund, for all his madness, and his desire to see me dead. But for his decision to sacrifice me, who knows where I'd be now?

Certainly not at the side of my Warlord, among his people.

The snow was crisp beneath our feet, and in the light of our torches, I could see my breath. I'd never seen a night so clear, a sky that glittered so. I looked straight up, and all around, and there were more stars than I'd ever known existed. They lit the heavens and the snow with a soft glow.

We reached the stone circle, and the others gathered around us, all of us facing Joden. Everyone grew silent as he raised his hands to the sky.

"We wait for the dead," Joden said, his voice raising the hairs on the back of my neck. "Those who have died in this last season, who have ridden with us all this time. We wait to release them, and our fears, our regrets, our pain."

I couldn't help it, my eyes filled with tears, which trickled down my cold cheeks.

Keir squeezed my hand, and I looked into his eyes. Blue eyes that reflected the stars in their depths, and even as I wept, I smiled at him.

Marcus was beside me, well concealed in furs. Nothing of his body showed, for he would not offend the elements in any way.

"Welcome the dead," Joden whispered in the silence:

Everyone turned to look at the rises that overlooked the Plains. I turned as well, puzzled. What were we looking for?

I stood, as my eyes adjusted, and held my breath. All of the Plains seemed frozen and still, as if waiting.

"They come." Joden pointed off into the distance.

I heard it then, the thundering of hooves, and I gasped to see a huge herd of ghost horses appear over a distant ridge, galloping straight for us. I staggered, but Keir steadied me from behind.

It never occurred to me that horses die, too.

They were coming, wild and free, running over the snow with no effort, manes and tails streaming out, leaving a faint trail of silver light. As they grew closer, my eyes grew wide, and wider still.

They had riders.

With a swirl, the horses surrounded us, galloping in a wide circle around us. I could make out details now. The faces of the riders grew clear as they rode past, pale and white as clouds. But there was no sorrow there, only joy and peace. People about me started to call out names, hailing friends and loved ones. Keir called out too, names I didn't know. So many names.

Four times they circled us, and then they turned and rode right through our midst.

I could see them, riding and smiling, dressed as they had been in life. Isdra with her long braid, Epor with his beard and armor, their faces wreathed in smiles. I called their names as they moved past me, and Epor flashed me a grin.

"Keekai!" Keir called out, and she was before us, laughing. She reached out and I could have sworn she ruffled Keir's hair in farewell.

The crowd about me shouted their greetings to their loved ones as they galloped past, and I cried out as well, bidding my friends good bye. I looked around, seeking out. . .

Gils.

His horse paused before me, and there he was, his face alight, his curls dancing in the breeze.

"I'm so proud of you, Gils," I whispered, telling him then what I hadn't told him while he was alive.

His eyes lit up, and his smile widened as he urged the horse on. As he swept past, Gils leaned down and cold fingers brushed my cheek. I shivered, blinking as the entire herd thundered past.

They headed back to the ridge they'd come over, but they didn't disappear. Instead, they rode up, and up, and right up into the sky, and into the stars themselves. They flowed up, as if with wings, up into the velvet night until their shadowy forms were lost to sight.

They were gone.

I wept openly, as did others around me. Tears flowed freely, to have our loved ones gone. I sniffed a bit and then my stomach cramped. Goddess, not now. I fumbled in my satchel for some dried peppermint leaves, and tucked them in my mouth to suck on. When we returned to the tents, I'd drink some tea, but this would do for now.

A flint struck a stone by Joden, and a flame flared up from a torch. "They have gone, beyond the snows and into the stars. So it is. So it will ever be."

For the dead, perhaps. But not for the living. I squeezed Keir's hand and he gave me a solemn look. He shifted his stance, and raised our hands so that they were palm to palm, fingers intertwined. I looked into his eyes, and nodded. He and I would bring change to both the Plains and Xy. With our love, we could change the world.

My stomach cramped again, and I shoved my free hand deep within my furs and pressed on my belly. Not now, little one. Later, I will be as sick as you please, but not right now.

The flame was passing through the crowd as the torches were lit. Marcus held one to the flame of another, and so the light passed around us.

"We dance, in thanks to the elements." Joden's words called us to order, and everyone started to join hands. Keir had explained the movements and I'd practiced the steps in the lodge with his help. We'd all join hands, and pace out the pattern in a twisting line.

All but Marcus. He stepped to the side, holding his torch high.

Keir took my hand, and Prest appeared to take the other. Rafe, Ander, and Yveni followed suit. Simus was holding the hands of two lovely ladies, and flirting with them. Atira and Heath joined in as well, although Heath had to fight to hold her hand. They were a source of much amusement within the lodge, what with Heath's pursuit and Atira's resistance.

A drumbeat started, and we all took the first steps of this long slow dance.

We'd return to Xy at the first sign of spring while I could travel. We'd arrive just as the first snowdrops appeared in the castle gardens. For my son would be born in the Castle of Water's Fall at the summer solstice, if all the theas who had pressed their hands to my belly could be believed.

Those who traveled with us were all known to Keir, and trusted. They supported us in our efforts, and welcomed my new knowledge.

Wild Winds had asked to winter with us. His position had not changed, but he indicated that he would welcome the chance to talk. I'd welcomed the opportunity.

Keir had rejected it completely, and no argument would sway him.

The drumbeat drew me back, and I minded my steps. We all melted into the pattern, holding hands and chanting, pacing out our sorrows in the snow. When we were done, when the rituals were complete, we'd return to the warm tents and lit braziers and Marcus would serve us warm kavage and the bitter gurt that I now craved. In the morning, we'd break camp, and ride south to winter in the milder lands.

But first food, and warmth, and my Keir in my arms.

Those of the Plains present a newborn babe to the elements, and listen for the sound of the child's name. But as I'd told Reness, I'd repeated to Keir in no uncertain terms that this babe would stay in my arms and be named and raised in my tradition, and he'd agreed.

I rather liked "Xykeirson." Keirson of the Tribe of Xy.

I could hardly wait to see Anna's reaction when my child was born and stained with the tribal tattoos.

The dance continued, our steps slow and even. Joden's voice rose in the night, singing of forgiveness, for the dead, and for us.

I looked over and squeezed Keir's hand. He returned the look, his blue eyes sparkling with pride, love, and hope. And a promise for this night.

For the future.

Forever.