Essa paused again, taking a long sip of kavage. He was stalling, probably trying to decide how much to tell me. I was fairly certain he wouldn’t tell me anything, but he lowered the mug, and began to speak. “The words of a singer carry great weight. Iften of the Boar has asked that the Council treat Joden’s truths as those of a Singer. He argues that this should be done because no full Singer was present.” Essa shook his head. “But Joden of the Hawk has broken with our ways and there is debate as to whether this should be done.”
Now it was my turn to delay, and I took a sip of kavage, uncertain how to reply. Joden was a friend, but he had made it clear that he would speak against Keir and me before the Council. “What is your position in all of this?”
Essa snorted softly. “You know that Singers hold words given to them in confidence close to their hearts?”
I nodded.
“They also keep their thoughts to themselves, as well.”
I blushed at the reprimand.
Essa sat his mug down, and waved Amyu off when she would have offered more. I decided to change the topic. “If I can’t listen to the truths, can I go out and walk around? I’ve never seen anything like the Heart of the Plains.”
While his face didn’t change, I could tell that he was pleased. “Of course. You may come and go as you wish. But your guards will accompany you. They have instructions as to who you may have contact with. I would ask that you obey those restrictions.”
“I will follow your ways,” I answered. “But may I see Heath?”
“I do not know the name. Of what tribe?”
“Of Xy.” I smiled. “One of my lands, who came here with Simus of the Hawk.”
Essa’s blank look was replaced with one of humor. “I see no harm.” He gave me an intent look. “We keep you from Keir so that—”
“So that I am free to make my own choice,” I cut in. “Essa, if I was going to change my mind, I’d have done it when Antas was yelling at me that first night.”
“As to that,” he replied, “you must know that the Council has decided that while you are not yet confirmed, the courting should begin now. The snows approach, Daughter of Xy, and there is no time to waste.”
My throat went dry. This had been explained to me, but I’d managed not to think about it. “Now?”
“The other warlords will be given a chance to court you. Each will send word, and Amyu will escort you to their tents. Each will try to convince you of their strength and skills.” Essa smiled at me. “You control the courting, Xylara. If you wish it to end, you have but to say so. If you wish it to continue, indicate that as well.”
I nodded, but didn’t speak.
Essa looked over at Amyu, and then back at me. “Have your needs been seen to, Xylara? You have but to ask for something and it will be provided.”
“A bath.” I found my voice quickly enough. “With hot water.”
Essa gave me a puzzled look.
“Xyians bathe under the bells,” Amyu offered.
“Really?” Essa didn’t seem impressed with the idea. “If that is what you wish, I will see what can be done.” He rose and adjusted his robes and weapons, about to depart. “Is there anything else?”
I looked at him, tall and straight, really looked at him. He waited patiently, allowing me to study him, and that bird’s wing around his eye.
“Would you sing something for me?” I blurted out.
Essa’s eyebrows went all the way up. Amyu looked shocked.
I fidgeted slightly, and looked away. “I’m sorry. I heard Joden sing a few times, and he has a wonderful voice. You are a full Singer and I wanted to . . .” My voice trailed off.
“I am honored.” Essa tilted his head. “What songs have you heard?”
I grimaced. “Mostly sad songs.” I sighed. “Although Joden sang a funny breakfast song for us when we celebrated the ehat hunt.”
“Perhaps something more fitting your mood, yes?” He took a deep breath, and began to sing. His wonder ful voice filled the tent. It wasn’t as deep as Joden’s but it held the same kind of power.
I listened, spellbound, as he sang. The first verse spoke of the sun rising, and lovers laying in the cool grass, their bodies bathed in the light of the dawn. As the star disappeared from the morning sky, they ap peared in his lover’s eyes.
Essa took a breath, and the second verse talked of the sun at the nooning, with the lovers riding their horses side by side. Their shadows danced over the grasses and their skin was slick with warmth and sweat. The Plains shone gold in the daylight, but the stars were still in his lover’s eyes.
Another breath on Essa’s part, and the sun sank down, to set on the Plains. Now the lovers danced in the light of the fire, their bodies yearning for one another. The stars were still hidden in the light of the sunset, but he turned to his beloved to see their gleam in her eyes.
The last notes of the song died away. Essa closed his mouth, and looked at me.
I swallowed hard. “That was beautiful, Eldest Singer Essa. But,” I felt myself tearing up as I spoke, “there is another verse, isn’t there?”
“There is.” Essa tilted his head to look at me. “Would you hear it?”
“Yes. Please.”
In the song, the sun was gone. The moon was high in the endless darkness, and his beloved had gone to the snows. His body ached for her scent and touch. The words explained that the darkness covered his sorrow, and his blade would end it. For even the stars cannot compare to the warmth of her eyes.
I dropped my eyes, remembering Isdra, and her pain.
As the last notes faded away, I looked up. Essa nodded his head to me, and left the tent.
Amyu wasn’t going to go with me on my walk, claiming the press of chores. But I convinced her to come with me, since I knew that the warrior-priest guards wouldn’t talk to me, or answer my questions. In point of fact, I noticed that the guards that appeared when I left the tent were older, and more experienced. I suspected that the younger ones had been replaced after the incident with Simus, but I didn’t say anything.
Besides, I was proud of myself, that I could start to tell them apart. Once Keekai had told me of the one distinctive tattoo, it was much easier.
I exited the tent, putting on my cloak, and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Xylara?” Amyu was behind me, her cloak over her shoulders.
“I thought there was a wide walkway here. Last night, I am almost positive ...” I looked around, puzzled. There was a wide open area in front of the tent now, with other tents surrounding it.
“There was.” Amyu stepped forward, and my guards moved into position. “But the Tribe of the Snake wishes to dance tonight, for a new babe, born into the tribe.”
“So they moved their tents.” I took a few steps forward. “Does that happen often?”
“Of course.” Amyu looked at me oddly. “They’re just tents.”
“Of course,” I echoed. We started walking, skirting the open area to a walkway off to the side. “But if everything moves, how do you know where anything is?”
She took my question seriously. “Some things do not move. Waste areas, fire pits. And the herds are always beyond.” She flashed me a look. “We have a saying. ‘The Heart of the Plains is always beating.’ ”
I nodded in response, too busy looking around to talk.
There were people everywhere. Talking, laughing arguing. In front of tents, repairing tents, knocking tents down. Even as I watched, a section of tents collapsed, and warriors were loading them onto pack beasts.
“Are they moving?” I asked.
Amyu shrugged. “Moving or leaving. The snows come, and many are setting out.”
“Does anyone stay here during the snows?”
Amyu shrugged. “A few. The lodges here are small.”
The sun was warm on my face, but there was enough of a chill to the breeze that I was glad for my cloak as we walked.
But the people had caught my attention again. A group of small children ran past, laughing and chasing each other. They all had a wooden dagger in their belt, and a wooden sword at their side or strapped to their back. The children swirled around us, and then ran off between the tents. I laughed, enjoying their innocent mirth.