Keir nodded. With quick words, he translated events for those that didn’t speak Xyian. Once done, his eyes dropped to Heath’s kneeling form and returned to my language. “Rise, Heath. You have risked much, and spared the Warprize. I will not forget this. Where are your parents held?”

Heath stood. “There are cellars, Warlord, under the kitchens. They are confined there, with the rest of the kitchen staff. Xymund took no risk that word would leak before I arrived here.”

Keir nodded and switched tongues again. “Prest, Rafe, you have been to the castle and the kitchens. Pick men to go with us to secure the hostages. Keep the group small. Joden, take charge of the camp. We will make it appear that the Warprize is slain and that the camp is in confusion. But under the cover of that confusion, let men prepare to mount and ride for the castle. Xymund has breeched the peace through his actions, and I will have his head.”

I started, squeezing Keir’s shoulder. He did not look at me, turning to look at Simus instead. “Simus, I ask that you undertake the protection of the warprize personally. Designate whatever men you need to hold her safe. Once the commotion has started, place the army on alert.”

Iften rose at that. “Warlord, it’s my place to take charge of the camp, not Joden.” He almost spat Joden’ s name.

Keir almost snarled. “Iften, if you had both feet planted on the earth, were bathed in flames, calling a wind, holding my token, and blessed by rain from the skies, still I would not trust you with my warprize.”

Marcus snickered, as did some of the others. Iften turned bright red, but held his tongue.

Keir looked at Heath, and once again switched tongues. “Heath, you will be a part of the rescue. Prest and Rafe speak your language. Stay close to them.” Keir covered my hand with his. “The warprize has faith in you. You will be given weapons. But if you should betray us, you are dead. Am I understood?”

“You are, Warlord.” Heath bowed his head.

Keir stood. “Talk amongst yourselves, but let no man leave the tent till we have completed our plans.”

The men moved to obey. Keir turned, and in one quick movement, blocked my view of the tent. He towered over me. I stood my ground and returned his look. He raised his hand and placed a finger against my lips. “Don’t,” he breathed. “I need you safe, need to know that you are well out of that treacherous dog’s hands.”

“Keir, he is my brother and lawful king. You can’t just kill him without…” I paused, torn.

Keir’s jaw tightened. “He has betrayed his people. He has broken his oath to me. He has tried to kill you, his blood and kin. His life is forfeit and it will be at my hand. Would you protect him even so?”

“Keir, we do not punish the insane for their actions. You can’t—”

“We hold that truth as well, Lara, unless the addled one is dangerous.”

“I know.” I closed my eyes, and looked away. “But he is of my blood and of the Blood of Xy.” I looked up into his eyes, trying to figure out how to explain. Xymund might be a poor ruler, and mad as well, but he was my half-brother, and my father had loved him.

Keir’s finger stroked my cheek. “I’m trying to understand, Lara.”

“I know.” I whispered. “I’m trying to figure it out myself. He threatens Anna and Othur, and this fragile peace between our peoples. Yet—”

“You would have him unharmed.” Keir grimaced. “I will try, Lara. But I make no promise.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

Keir gave me a knowing look. “You will remain here, Warprize.”

“But—”

Keir grabbed my shoulders and gave me a firm shake. “Your oath now, that you will remain in this tent under protection. Or as the sun rises, I swear that I will chain you to a post before I leave.”

The fear was there, haunting his blue eyes. I nodded. “Waste no time. Save Anna and Othur. Do what you have to do. I will be here when you return.”

Relief flooded his face, and he kissed me, drawing me into his arms. I went willingly, and clung to him with all the strength I had, afraid for him. Afraid for the peace. He held me for a long moment before turning to the room. “Are we ready?” The men started to gather around him.

I moved to Simus’s side, clutched at his arm to get his attention. “Simus, you must go with him.” Simus looked down at me, puzzled. “Simus, he must not kill Xymund.” I shook his arm to make my point. “ Xymund is a sworn king. There must be agreement from the lords, proof that he breeched his oath.”

Simus nodded. “Keir knows that, little healer. He will…”

“Look at him, Simus.”

Simus did. His eyes narrowed as he took in Keir’s stance. “Maybe you are right.” He smiled down at me. “Leave it to me.” Simus moved next to Keir and began to speak. Keir shot me a glance, then turned to argue with Simus.

After a few minutes of debate, a compromise was struck. Simus and Joden would create the confusion in the camp. Under that cover Keir would leave with Prest, Rafe, and Heath to make for the castle kitchens to secure the hostages. Simus and Iften would lead a unit to secure the castle and join with Keir to confront Xymund. Joden would remain behind, taking command of the watch. I would remain safe within the tent, heavily guarded and under my oath not to leave. Epor and Isdra were summoned quickly, to take up a position inside the tent.

With a nod, Keir started all in motion. Voices cried out as if in horror, Keir’s voice rising above the others. Warriors started to rush out of the tent and mill about at the entrance, with cries of outrage. The guards outside could be heard to ask questions and to wail in response to the news. Simus strode out, crying for vengeance and calling for mounts.

Prest, Rafe, and Heath stood by the entrance. Heath had been fitted with helm and sword. They waited for Keir, who stood beside me, strapping on his swords. He nodded to them to proceed him and turned to me.

I placed my hand on his heart. The mail shirt he had put on felt cold under my fingers. “Be safe.”

He stared down at me, then gently gathered me into his arms, burying his face in my hair. “I will. I regret this, Lara. He is your blood and kin.” He raised his head, and I saw the anger in his eyes.

I nodded. “I know.” He nodded as well, released me, and with a swirl of his cape, left the tent. As the flap fell, I saw him speak to Marcus, who was standing just inside.

I stood there, afraid not so much for Keir’s physical safety as for the price of Xymund’s death. Guilty or not, he was a king, and the local lords who had agreed to the terms of the peace might rise in defiance of his death at the hands of the Warlord. He was also my brother, no matter his mistakes and misjudgments. I did not want to see him harmed. Those thoughts whirled around in my head as I stood there.

Marcus reentered the tent. He shook his head and guided me back to my seat. “Hisself will be fine, Warprize. Fretting does no good.” Within moments I found myself wrapped in a thick cloak and drinking warmed wine. Marcus watched me anxiously.

“It’s hard to wait,” I said quietly, looking into the goblet.

“Aye. I am thinking it takes more courage to be waiting then to be in the thick of things. A lesson I learned when my warrior days ended.” Marcus sat at my feet and picked up another goblet for himself. He refilled his cup and mine as well. “You barely ate a thing.” He pushed some of the tastier dishes my way. “Eat a bite and I will regale you with tales. Better than a singer, I am.”

“Really?” I reached for some bread.

“Aye. Would you like to know how I met Hisself?”

I nodded as I chewed. Marcus continued, “Twas out in the practice grounds. I was training the young ones sword fighting, putting them through their paces, when this wee bit of a lad, all blue eyes and soft curls comes into the circle, dragging a wooden sword behind him.” Marcus took a draught. “ ‘What’s this?’ says I. ‘Wanna fight’ says the lad.” Marcus grinned. “Hisself too small to wield a sword almost as big as him. ‘You’re too little,’ says I, kneeling down in front of him. Those defiant blue eyes staring back at me. ‘Wor-wor.’ He says. ‘I’m gonna be wor-wor.’” Marcus shook his head.