Chronicles Of The Warlands - Warlord Part 22
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Xylara. There are too many blades among us, and all are skilled in their use."
"Even the theas?"
"The theas are some of the deadliest of us all, Xylara. They guard and guide the young." She gave me a
smile. "I suppose Ultie offered to show you his body and skills?"
I rolled my eyes. "He dropped his trous to show me his 'weapon'!"
Osa laughed, a warm, rich sound, then crinkled her nose. The gold flecks in her eyes seemed to dance.
"And you wonder that I would choose women over men? Or you over Ultie?"
I choked on my own laughter, and coughed to clear my throat. "I am promised to Keir."
"So?" Osa gave an elegant shrug. "What of that?"
"My people do not have s.e.x outside of a bond," I tried to explain.
Osa moved her horse closer, and she leaned in toward me. "What of that, lovely lady? You are not yet
bonded. You are free to taste the pleasures of many before you commit to one." I watched mesmerized
as she leaned in, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s moving within the leather, close enough to touch. Close enough to ... kiss. I jerked my head back in surprise. Greatheart s.h.i.+fted under me, responding to my movements, putting a bit of distance between us. Her smile gone, Osa pulled back and watched me intently, like a phoenix might study its prey.
I licked my lips. "Osa, I-" I had to breathe. "I can't."
She shrugged again, and somehow I knew that her elegance was as natural as breathing to her. She probably killed with the same exquisite movement. "I was told that you had honor, Lara." Osa's smile was back. "And that your ways are strange. I take no offense."
"Thank you," I replied, still feeling a bit unsettled.
"So. Since I cannot court you, perhaps you would come to my tent, and we can share a meal. I wish to
know more of your healing skills. I can promise to be better company than Ultie."
I made a face. "That wouldn't be a challenge, Warlord."
She laughed, and gestured for our escorts to follow us.
After Osa, I went to the tents of the next five warlords with my escort, and made my position to each one
very clear. Keir of the Cat was my chosen Warlord, and my decision was final.
I was gracious, and kind, and they were polite in their acceptance of my refusal.
Exhausted, I'd returned to my tent. The last of the warlords would have to wait for the next day. All I
wanted was my bed.
Only to find that the Tribe of the Snake was holding a dance near my tent, with much joy and laughter. I
was too tired to watch, so I went inside, complained about the lack of a real bath to Amyu, and crawled between the blankets with a grateful sigh.
Oddly enough, the drums were more soothing than anything else. I fell asleep with no trouble.
They were still beating when I awoke with a start. There was a cloaked figure crouched by my bed.
I gasped, startled half out of my wits. The figure moved, reaching out a hand. "Healer, will you come?"
It took me an instant to understand. "Amyu?"
She moved closer, pressing her fingers to my lips. "Yes. There is a need. Will you come?"
I threw off the bedding and quickly dressed in the clothes she pressed into my hands. I ran my fingers
through my hair, thrust my feet into my shoes, and grabbed my satchel. Amyu threw a cloak over my
shoulders, and took my hand.
It was dark in the depths of the tent. I could hear the drums of the dance, but their beat was slower, and more sensual. I yawned once, cracking my jaw as I did so, and tried to shake the sleep from my eyes.
Quietly, Amyu headed for the back area, where she worked and slept. I couldn't make out the details in the dim light, but she walked up to that tent wall, and knelt, pulling it up just enough so that we could squeeze under. I paused, suddenly uncertain.
Amyu sensed my hesitation. "Please. We need a healer."
I nodded and knelt, pus.h.i.+ng my satchel before me, and squirmed outside. Amyu followed, and we got to our feet together. "Your guard watches the dance."
Mentally, I rolled my eyes. I could just imagine the kinds of 'dances' they were watching.
Amyu's voice was the barest of whispers as she took my arm. "Come."
We hadn't gotten five steps when a large man loomed up before us. "What's this?" he asked.
"Prest." I spoke as I sagged in relief. He took a step closer, and I could make out Epor's warclub in its
harness over his shoulder.
Another voice came from the shadows behind us. "Warprize. This is not safe." Amyu spun, hand on her dagger, but I wasn't surprised to hear Rafe's voice.
"Someone needs my skills," I responded.
Amyu recovered. "You are Keir's men." I could tell she was surprised that they'd caught us.
"We guard the Warprize," Prest said.
"And we do not watch dances," Rafe responded firmly. "Now why do you lure the Warprize away?"
"She is needed," Amyu whispered urgently. "For a healing."
Rafe gave her the once over. "Can she be trusted?" He spoke in Xyian.
"I don't know," I answered in the same language. "But I won't let that stop me from healing someone."
Rafe looked at Prest.
Prest shrugged.
Rafe rolled his eyes, and let out a soft, exaggerated sigh. "You are of no help." He turned back to Amyu.
"Show us the way."
She gave a quick nod, and moved silently away in the darkness.
We followed, quietly, as she took us on a path between the tents, careful to disturb no one. While the
Heart never stops beating, it does sleep, and there were very few people about, and most were focused on their own tasks.
As we walked, I moved close to Rafe. "How is Keir?" I asked, keeping my voice as soft as I could. Rafe smiled, his eyes twinkling under his hood. "Frustrated. Furious. But determined, Warprize. He hasn't killed anyone."
"Yet," Prest added.
I sighed. "He's not the only one."
Rafe gave me a sympathetic look. "I'll tell him, Warprize. Provided he doesn't kill me for letting you do
this."
"Look." Prest pointed.
Ahead of us lay a series of tents, alive with torches and movement. Amyu guided us to the largest one
and threw open the flap. The tent was filled with light, heat, and people, both men and women. And the
all too familiar smell of blood, sweat, and fear."Call out if you need us," Rafe's voice came from behind me, and I absently nodded in response. All ofmy attention was on the figure on a pallet in the middle of the tent.
It was a woman, a very naked, very pregnant woman, sprawled on the bedding. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and she was clearly exhausted. Her eyes were glazed, unseeing. Surrounded by the others, she was gasping, panting through her pains. Her distended belly shone in the light, looking tight enough to burst.
"How long?" I asked. It had to be hours, by the look of things.
All heads turned as I spoke, and Amyu pushed in from behind me.
"Why have you brought her here?" A woman who looked as old as Keekai stood before me, as if to bar my way. She was naked from the waist up, and sweating as well.
"She is a healer." Amyu stood her ground, even as her voice trembled. "If there is any chance to save Eace-"
"That is not your place, child," the woman snapped. For a moment I thought I'd be thrown out of the tent, but her features softened. "What is done is done." She turned away, then, towards the woman on the pallet. I followed, to look between the woman's legs. She was open, and I could see a tiny foot, trying to emerge.
"I am Reness, Eldest Thea." The one who'd barred my path was speaking. "This is Eace's first. I've tried to turn the babe, but it will not s.h.i.+ft." She reached out, and a man handed her a knife, its blade bright in the light. The flames from the braziers flickered on its surface, and in her eyes as she looked at me. "I have heard of your skills, you who would be a warprize."
She held up the knife, and looked at me, her face a mask of pain. "I've cut babes out before, but the woman always dies." She took a deep breath. "I would ask that you use your skills to bring her back from the dead, once the baby is born." She turned away, and brought the knife to bear on the woman's stomach.
Chapter 12.
Chronicles Of The Warlands - Warlord Part 22
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Chronicles Of The Warlands - Warlord Part 22 summary
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