CHAPTER
35
THE WORDS WERE OUT OF
HER MOUTH BEFORE she could stop them, and she held no
token.
“Warlord, forgive—”
Atira started.
Keir snorted softly.
“After all this, there is no need of tokens between us, Atira of
the Bear.”
Atira stilled and
waited.
“How could I bond
with a city-dweller, you mean?” Keir said softly.
Atira nodded, but
Keir was ignoring her, looking off into the gardens. “At first, it
was to achieve my goals. I needed her as a warprize, and something
about her stirred my heart.”
“So I claimed her and
brought her into my camp . . .” Keir smiled at the memory. “Even
with Xymund’s lies between us, she wrapped herself around my heart
in ways I didn’t think possible.”
“Lara came to me
thinking she was a sacrifice. A slave. It was only when she learned
the meaning of warprize that she felt
free to offer me her heart.”
“It was when I tried
to set her free, she forced me to face the truth. Promises,
pledges, even bonds are as the wind. They call for more than just
the words or gestures on a certain day. It must be a constant
effort, like practicing with a blade.” Keir shifted, as if
uncomfortable. “But within the bond, it is . . . words are not my
gift.”
“Like a pattern
dance?” Atira asked, seeing it in her mind’s eye. “When the beat is
strong and you and the one that dances with you move as one,
sharing thoughts, sharing . . .”
“Sharing the dance,”
Keir finished for her. He looked over, his blue eyes sparkling
bright. “But there is more to it than that, Atira. Lara completes
me and gives me the one thing that no one else can. Her love. And
now, my life is that much more because of her. With her by my side,
I see possibilities that I never even thought of without her.
Alone, I am nothing.” Keir’s eyes glittered. “But with her, I am
limitless.”
They sat in silence
for a moment.
“It is strange,”
Atira said slowly, thinking as she spoke. “On the Plains, we see
for miles, yet our lives are restricted, somehow. We grow in the
thea camps, serve in the military, then return to the thea camps to
raise the next generation. That is our way, and it is a good way .
. .”
Keir waited
silently.
“Here, I may not be
able to see beyond the stones and the wall, but the choices seem
endless. To be more than we are.” Atira shook her head. “I am not
saying this right.”
“No,” Keir said. “You
begin to see what I saw when I went to rescue Simus and found a
healer at his side.”
There was a gurgle,
and tiny hands started to wave about from the cradle of Keir’s
arms. Keir looked down with a gentle smile. “Seems my daughter is
awake.” Keir rose from the bench. “I best get her to Lara for her
turn at the breast.”
Atira stood as
well.
Keir paused. “Do not
think that this will be easy or comfortable,” he warned. “Their
ways are far different from ours.”
“Life on the Plains
is hard,” Atira nodded. “It will be hard here as well. It’s just—”
She looked off into the garden and sighed. “I have much to think
on.”
A thin wail came from
Kayla, gaining in volume. “Good hunting,” Keir said, as he headed
for the castle.
Atira sat back down
on the bench.
She loved dancing,
designing the patterns. But dances lingered only in memory after
the dance ended. True enough that the memory of the Plains was long
and deep, but even so.
She drew a breath,
closed her eyes, and pictured her return to the Plains. Free to
fight and ride, the skies open, with no restrictions. For a moment
she smiled at the thought.
But even in her
mind’s eye, Heath rode beside her.
Atira stared at the
walls of the castle and the gardens. On the Plains, one could see
for miles and ride for days without a change in the grasslands
around one. Life there did not change any more than the elements
themselves did.
But here . . . the
vision of the forge rose in her mind, with Dunstan lifting his
hammer as the hot metal flared. Working with the elements to create
wondrous things.
What could she and
Heath do together?
Atira rose and went
to the door of the kitchen. Marcsi was there, stirring a pot. She
looked up and gave Atira a smile.
Atira smiled back.
“Marcsi, could I borrow a cloak?”
Atira took the path
through the garden and left through the main gates. The city
swallowed her up in an instant.
So many people,
laughing, talking, shouting—each going about their tasks. Most
ignored her, some darted around or in her path, or made way. Their
eyes would widen when they saw her; Atira was fairly certain that
was due to her bruises and her lip, still puffy and tender. A few
fingers were pointed, and there were whispers of “Firelander” as
she walked along, but no sense of threat. More curiosity, a little
fear. She continued on, trying to remember the way she and Heath
had taken.
But even with her
memory, she soon lost her way. The Plains were easy compared to
this. You used landmarks, the sun, the stars. Here there were
buildings blocking the sun, and they looked all the same to her.
Atira ground her teeth in frustration.
Apparently she was
going to have to ask for directions.
But then she turned a
corner, and there was the bent old woman who sold cheese, the one
that had spoken to Heath. Kalisa, that was her name.
Atira approached the
cart and waited until the woman’s customer had left before clearing
her throat. Kalisa had to tilt her head to the side, so badly was
her spine humped over. “Ah, you’re the Firelander who was here the
other day with Othur’s son,” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling.
“You look a bit worse for wear. Were you in the fight at the
castle, then?”
“Yes,
elder.”
“Eh? What is
elder?” the woman asked, even as her
hands were cutting a slice of cheese, and placing it between two
crackers.
“A term of respect,”
Atira explained. “I seek the shop of Dunstan and Ismari. Can you
aid me?”
Kalisa cackled,
pressing the cheese and crackers into her hand. Atira tried to give
it back. “I have no coin, elder.”
“You fought for the
Queen. That’s more than enough.” Kalisa tilted her head and pointed
down the way.
Atira thanked her and
stepped back as another customer stepped up to buy cheese. She
munched on the snack, enjoying the taste as she walked farther down
the street.
Dunstan himself
opened the door and moved aside to let her in. “Well, you look a
sight.”
“There was a fight,”
Atira explained.
“Clearly,” Dunstan
said. “Do you seek me or Ismari?”
“Both.” Atira
followed the man behind the counter and through the next door into
the forge. “And young Garth. I want him to see what happens when a
warrior fights without armor.”
Dunstan nodded, even
as Ismari came up, wiping her hands with a rag. “Atira,” she
gasped. “Your poor face. And the shoulder?”
“Joint went out of
the socket,” Atira said.
“I’ll fetch Garth.
Wouldn’t hurt to fetch them all, so they can see the price a
warrior pays. Might knock some of the stars from their eyes.”
Dunstan strode off, shouting for the journeymen and
apprentices.
“So you’ve come to
talk to Dunstan?” Ismari asked, her eyes alight with
curiosity.
“There is something I
would speak to you about.” Atira lowered her voice. “But I have no
coin.”
Ismari raised her
eyebrows. “I am sure we can work something out, if necessary. What
do you wish to discuss?”
Atira fumbled in her
belt pouch, then drew her hand out. “This.”
She held up the nail
she’d made with her own hands.
IT TOOK LONGER THAN
ATIRA EXPECTED, SO IT was dark when she emerged onto the street.
Dunstan was throwing on a cloak to guide her back when two sturdy
city guards came down the street. “Lady Atira?” one of them asked,
carrying a torch.
“Yes.” She looked
them over suspiciously.
“Oh, Helic, Chon,
good.” Dunstan recognized the men. “I didn’t think this was your
night for watch? I was going to take her back to the castle. The
streets can be confusing in the dark.”
“Truth be told,”
Helic said, “the new Seneschal has every guard quietly scouring the
city and castle, even them not on duty. All lookin’ for
her.”
“Ah.” Dunstan bent
his head to Atira. “You didn’t leave word?”
Atira shook her
head.
“We’ll escort her
back,” Helic said.
“Quick as we can,”
Chon said. “Captain Detros says the Seneschal’s worked himself up
into a bit of a lather.”
“Well then.” Dunstan
smiled at Atira. “You’d best be on your way.”
“Thank you,” Atira
called as the guards started her off.
Chon eyed her arm.
“That looks a mite painful.”
“It hurts,” Atira
admitted.
“Then we’ll keep our
pace slow,” Helic said. “But we’d best send word to the
castle.”
He whistled a few
quick notes, and the sound of running feet came from two
directions. More guards came up. “Helic, ya found
her!”
“More like she found
us,” Helic said. “Run and tell the Watch commander, and get word
that she’s fine and we’re coming, but slow.”
Torches were handed
off, and the new men took off running down the street.
“I have caused you
warriors trouble,” Atira said. “I would ask pardon.”
“It’s no trouble,
Lady,” Chon said as they walked through the empty streets. “Word is
that you fought for the Queen, so you’re a good’un.”
“Takes a while to be
gettin’ used to our ways, or so I’m thinkin’,” Helic added. “Now,
the Seneschal, he might have a few words to say on the matter, but
he’s a good’un too.”
“Yes,” Atira nodded.
“He is, isn’t he?” But before he could answer, Atira continued on.
“Tell me, what is it that you watch?”
HEATH WAS STANDING IN
THE MIDDLE OF THE courtyard when they finally arrived at the
castle.
As tired and sore as
she was, Atira’s heart lifted when she saw him. His brown curls
were standing straight up, as if he’d run his fingers through them
a dozen times. His blue eyes flashed, and his scowl was
fierce.
The courtyard behind
him was filled with torches and guards, all trying very hard not to
stare. Her escort slowed even as she went forward to greet him.
Helic whispered “good luck” as she kept walking.
She stopped in front
of Heath and raised her chin.
“Are you all right?”
he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she
said.
“Good,” he said.
“Then maybe you would be so kind as to tell me what in the darkest
hells you were thinking?” Heath’s voice got louder with every word.
“We barely survive an attack the day before, and you waltz out of
here without a word? Without an escort?”
“I’m—” Atira started
an apology, but she didn’t get far.
“Without a thought in
your head, apparently.” Heath threw his hands in the air. “What if
you’d run into a noble out for revenge? You can’t even lift your
sword arm. Did you think of that? Did you think at
all?”
A few more guards
joined the growing crowd, all men intent on seeing what was
happening. Atira dropped her gaze, trying hard not to
smile.
“You think that’s
amusing?” Heath was starting to pace back and forth. “I’ve had
every guard this castle and this city has searching for you. I
thought . . .” Heath stopped.
“You have every right
to be angry,” Atira said. “I am sorry.”
“And I am furious
with myself for being so angry,” Heath said. “But I feared that
you’d left—”
Heath caught himself
and blew out a breath, running his fingers through his curls. “I’d
thought you’d left without saying farewell,” he admitted. “And the
idea that you would do that made me . . .” Heath took a breath and
shook his head. “Never mind. You must be tired and hurting. Let’s
get you into the castle. I’ve willowbark tea brewing, and by now
it’s probably strong enough to—”
“These men,” Atira
nodded all around. “They are as tentmates to you, yes? Like
family?”
“Yes,” Heath said
slowly. “Why?” He frowned as Atira drew nearer. “You smell like the
forge. Where have you been?”
“To see Dunstan and
Ismari,” Atira said absently. She looked around at all the intent
faces, and decided on her course of action.
She faced Heath and
went down on one knee.
HEATH THOUGHT SHE’D
COLLAPSED. HE REACHED to catch her, then caught himself when he
realized that she’d knelt down deliberately. “Atira, what are
you—”
“Heath of Xy, Son of
Othur and Anna, Warrior and Seneschal,” Atira said loudly enough
for all to hear. She placed her good hand on her chest and bowed
her head.
Heath just stared at
her.
“I, Atira of the
Bear, Warrior of the Plains, kneel before you with a humble heart
and ask for your hand in marriage according to the traditions and
laws of Xy, and the traditions of the Plains.” Atira raised her
head. “I offer you my hand, my heart, and my sword for all of our
lives and beyond.”
Heath’s throat was
closed. All he could do was shake his head no. “What are you doing,
Atira?”
She looked about the
gathered crowd. “I am asking you to marry me before your friends
and tentmates.” She gazed up at Heath with a faint frown. “I would
ask permission of your mother, but she would deny me.”
“You don’t want to
stay here,” Heath said. “And I cannot leave.”
“I think I know my
own mind and heart,” Atira said tartly. She fumbled in her belt
pouch. “Else I would not offer you this as well.”
A ring lay in her
palm—a ring made from a flattened nail. Her nail, Heath knew in an
instant. “You made that?” Heath asked as he took the ring in his
hand.
“Yes.” Atira grimaced
and shifted her weight. “And one for me. Do I have to stay down
here until you make up your mind?”
There was a rumble of
laughter from the gathered guards.
“Sun God.” Heath
pulled her up with her good hand. “You can’t mean this. You denied
me for so long.”
“I know,” Atira
sighed. “But I have come to see that you mean more to me than a
place ever could. I want to see what all I can learn from your
people. But more than that, I want to see what you and I can
accomplish together. I want you in my life, from now until we seek
the snows. If that means that Xy is also in my life, so be it.”
Atira smiled at him. “After all, the Plains is now in
yours.”
“That it is.” Heath’s
smile was wide and growing.
“We will be of both
worlds,” Atira said.
“Until the snows,
then?” Heath pulled her close.
“Until the snows and
beyond,” Atira said.
Heath leaned in and
brushed his lips against hers. Atira flinched slightly, but then
kissed him back, increasing the pressure.
The guards cheered as
they parted. “But lad, ya haven’t answered her yet!” Detros called
out.
“I will marry thee,
Atira of the Bear, Warrior of the Plains,” Heath announced, his
voice echoing from the walls. “I will accept your offer and offer
my own in return, for all our lives and beyond.”
Atira snuggled in
beneath his arm as the guards cheered. “Good,” she whispered. “Now,
how about that willowbark tea?”
“As you command, my
lady,” Heath whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her
waist. He felt her lean into his strength with a sigh, and they
slowly walked into the castle together.