With a swift move, he plunged his spear into the ground at Keir’s feet.

Chapter 4

“No.” Keir’s voice was cold and hard as steel. Every warrior around us had his or her hand on a weapon, but who supported whom I couldn’t say. I swallowed hard, and stayed as still as possible.

The warrior-priest looked down at Keir with disdain. “It is the order of the Council of Elders, Warlord, that we separate you from the Warprize, and take her to the Heart of the Plains. Would you defy them?”

“Yes,” Keir snarled, a sound much like I imagined the cat at the river’s edge would have made.

A strong female voice cut through the night. “Even if I am the Elder?” The horses of the warrior-priests moved aside, and a woman rode forward, pushing back her hood. Everyone around us dropped to one knee, which caught me by surprise. I’d never seen a Firelander bend knee to anyone before.

Keir remained standing, but he had relaxed. “Keekai. You honor us.”

She tossed her head and gave him a sly smile. “I do, don’t I?” She looked around. “Am I in council, or sit ting in judgment? Up, up, all of you!”

The warriors rose, and Keekai dismounted and faced us. I was taken aback, for she looked enough like Keir to be his mother. She had his height and build, and wore armor with practiced ease of many years. Older, certainly, as Keir might look in another twenty years. But she had the same black hair and blue eyes; eyes that examined me closely. “So. This is the Warprize, Keir of the Cat?”

“She is, Elder. Xylara, Daughter of Xy, from the Kingdom of Xy.” Keir smiled and gestured to our tent. “I would offer you the welcome of my tent. Would you hear my truths, Elder?”

“I accept the courtesy of your tent, and would hear your truths.” Keekai tossed her reins to the warrior-priest nearest her.

The man caught the reins, but he was frowning, looking severe. “Keekai, we are to return to the Heart of the Plains with the woman, as soon as possible.” His dark eyes flickered over me. “They are to be separated. As soon as possible.”

Keir frowned and opened his mouth, but Keekai took control. “Pah. They have just returned to the Plains and there is a four ehat hunt to be celebrated. What is one more night, eh?”

The grim man opened his mouth, but Keekai forestalled him. “My old bones need food, heat, and sleep before I set forth. Make camp. We will wait for you, and then Keir can begin the ceremonies.”

I looked at Keir, to see how he reacted to this assumption of his authority, but he seemed content to let Keekai deal with the warrior-priest.

The warrior-priest was anything but content. His lips pressed firmly together as he contemplated us. “Your bones seem conveniently old, Keekai.”

“A challenge, Still Waters?” Keekai gave the man a steady look.

Still Waters? Was that his name?

The warrior-priest’s eyes narrowed, but he turned away, and he and the others melted into the darkness.

Keekai gave a grunt of satisfaction, and then brushed past us into the tent. Keir took my hand, and we fol lowed her. Warm air swirled around us as we entered. Keir dropped the flap behind us, for the warmth and the privacy.

“Keir, you stupid warlord, what were you thinking?”

Keir’s mouth tightened, but he remained silent as Keekai made herself at home on one of the pallets, and threw her cloak back and off her shoulders. A brazier burned in the center, and Keir and I sat opposite her. Marcus had been busy while we were gone. He’d enlarged our tent, giving us a meeting place and the back area for sleeping.

Keekai gave us a grim look. “We have much to discuss and little time.”

Marcus entered with a tray of kavage and gurt. He’d removed the cloak, now that he was in the shelter of the tent. With a bow, he served Keekai first.

Keekai’s blue eyes shifted to Marcus. She gave him a searching look. “Greetings, Marcus.”

That was odd. Most warriors completely ignored the scarred, small man. But Keekai was looking at him steadily, ignoring his injuries.

Marcus hesitated, then offered her a cup of kavage. After a pause, she took it. Marcus then moved the tray toward Keir and me, serving us in our turn. As he was about to leave, Keekai’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “Isn’t there anything you’d ask me, Marcus?”

Silence. Marcus stood, still as a statue, his back toward us. Keir caught my eye, and gestured for me to remain silent.

Keekai clucked her tongue. “Stupid man.”

Marcus turned then, his body stiff, his face filled with such pain.

Keekai arched an eyebrow, then shook her head. “I should let you suffer.”

Marcus just looked at her.

“All is well, except for the pain you inflict on yourself, fool. No injuries from this season.”

Marcus lowered his head, turned and was gone.

“That was cruel, Keekai,” Keir said softly.

“Pah.” Keekai took a long drink of kavage. “Who is the cruel one, I ask you?” She rolled her shoulders. “I have ridden hard in the company of humorless warrior-priests intent on making you suffer, Keir of the Cat.” She leaned forward. “There is little time. Those fools will be back shortly, and I cannot be seen to have too much private talk with you. The Council of the Elders have sent us to escort the Warprize to the Heart of the Plains.”

Keir snorted.

Keekai held up her hand. “They are not fools, Keir. They know that you delay in defiance of tradition, hoping that the seasons will force them to leave the Heart. They feel that you have had the Warprize long enough, and the separation must begin now.”

“Keekai,” Keir started but she slashed her hand through the air, and he closed his mouth with a snap.

“You have no choice, Keir. Those who would change our ways must first honor and obey them, yes? Have we not talked about this, time and time again?”

I looked at Keir, at the angry flush on his cheeks, and I reached for his hand. “Keekai, I am Keir’s Warprize. And he is my Warlord.”

“Xylara, Daughter of Xy, you are not.” I pressed my lips together, trying to control my anger, but my eyes must have given me away. Keekai’s lips quirked up. “There’s fire in you, Xyian. I’ll give you that. But...” Keekai scowled at Keir, “…with all respect, you are not his Warprize by our traditions and ways until the formal ceremonies are complete. The other warlords have the right to court you and—”

“Court me?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she focused on Keir. “Yes, Xylara. Court you.” Her glare rivaled Marcus’s. “I can see that Keir has not told you everything. What were you thinking?”

“Lara is—”

“Stop.” She leaned back slightly to look into both our faces. “What is done is done, Keir. Only the skies know how this will end.” She puffed out a breath. “Now, I feel an attack of the misery coming on, so our return to the Heart will not be as fast as they might wish. And I will use the journey to tell your Warprize some of the details you may have ... forgotten.” Without a token in her hand, that was an insult. I waited for Keir to draw a blade, but he just flushed again and squeezed my hand.

“You have four ehats to render, and an army to release.” Keekai gave Keir a close look. “With luck, you will only be a day behind before we arrive at the Heart.”

“Keekai, I have always listened and followed—”

Keekai snorted.

Keir glared right back at her, adding strength to his words. “And followed your advice. But now—”

“There is no choice. She must come out from under your protection and influence. The entire Council is agreed, Keir.” Keekai gave him a long look. “Would you truly defy them, and destroy this chance?”

There were noises from outside, and Keekai drank more of her kavage. “In the morning, I will come to your tent and we will hold the separation ceremony. Xylara, you will answer my questions, and we will depart.”