Warsworn by Elizabeth Vaughan
“No. I’m too embarrassed.”
Joden fell silent at that, a silence that was all too much like Eln when he was trying to get me to think about what I had said. And when I did think about it, I flushed in shame. It was the truth, I didn’t feel that I could talk to Keir about these things. He was so proud, so confident, so . . . perfect. How could I let him know that his Warprize wasn’t? I heaved another sigh.
Joden turned his head slightly, as if to look at me. “This land of yours, this Xy, it is strange to us. Many have confided their unease to me.”
“Really?” I looked around the valley, with its hills and trees. The sky above was a bright blue, and the air sweet with the scent of crushed grasses. “Why would they be uneasy?”
“On the Plains, one can see for miles and miles. A storm builds as one watches, and sweeps over the grasses with its rains.” Joden looked up to where the mountains blocked our view. “Here, one can see nothing, and the trees block the stars from sight. It is uncomfortable.”
“The Plains sound so big, Joden.”
“As wide as the skies themselves, Lara.” Joden spoke with a smile I could hear. “They hold their own special beauty.” His voice was filled with a quiet pride. “But life there is hard, make no mistake about that. We are of the Plains and we accept the harshness, for it is also a life of freedom, and its taste is sweet.”
His tone changed. “Keir seeks to change our ways, to ease the harshness, to improve the lives of all. But change is also hard.”
I absorbed his words as he took a deep breath to continue.
“We are returning to the Plains, Lara, and normally our hands would be filled with the spoils from raiding. But this time, this army, although victorious, returns with but a Warprize. In your own way, you have more value to us than any goods or foodstuffs. But warriors sometimes only see the prey in hand, or the lack thereof.”
Joden took a breath and continued. “Keir is making his way up and down the line, seeing to the needs of his warriors. But he is also reminding them that the bounty from this raid will come in the future, once the snows have cleared. Others work against Keir, pointing to empty hands and sagging saddlebags.”
“Iften?” The large, blond man with a scraggy beard who had challenged Keir and threatened me was not one of my favorites. He looked at me like I was some sort of vermin.
“Iften.” Joden confirmed. “There are those that heed him, not enough to break their oaths to the Warlord, but enough that they will have second thoughts to his new ways.” Joden shook his head. “There will be trouble when we reach the Heart of the Plains.”
“Trouble?”
Joden nodded. “But know this, Warprize. Keir has claimed you, and he honors the claim.”
“Joden, I don’t know what that means.”
“We have bonded couples, Lara. Isdra and Epor are an example.”
“What does ‘bonded’ mean?” I craned my neck, looking to see if I could find either of them in the crowd.
“They are sworn to one another, and have been so for many years.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yes,” Joden’s voice sounded like Eln’s when I had missed something important. “Talk to Isdra, Lara. You must ask questions when you don’t understand.” He turned toward me again, and I leaned forward to hear him. “Keir has his reasons for the speed at which we travel. He is hoping to avoid some of the opposition if we can arrive quickly.”
“Opposition? To me?”
“Yes. Messages were sent but the Plains are wide. He might be able to get you to the Heart of the Plains and confirmed before the major opposition can arrive. Talk to him, Lara. About your fears. This is something Keir must address. My reassurances will mean nothing to you.”
I sighed, laid my head on his back and nodded.
“As to the rest, you are doing very well, Lara. For a woman of the city. Have no fear. All will be well.”
“Why such a long face, Warprize?” Isdra took over for Joden, and had me on her saddle in a moment.
“Isdra, if one more person pats me on the head like a child and tells me not to worry, I am going to scream.”
Isdra laughed. “You can’t blame them. For us, one who bears no weapons is as a babe, to be protected and coddled.”
I paused, uncertain. Isdra seemed so confident, so sure of herself. I wasn’t sure that my confidences would be welcome or tolerated. “Isdra, Marcus said that you and Epor are bonded.”
“Marcus told you that?” Isdra’s voice rose in surprise. Next thing I knew, Isdra had bells in her horse’s mane, and we were being avoided by those around us. “Warprize, I must ask for your token.”
I blinked, taken aback, but I fumbled in my pocket for a stone I had learned to carry. “Have I offended?”
“No.” Isdra took the token over her shoulder and held it in her hand. “At least, you have not offended me. Lara, I would tell you something that is known, but not discussed. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I think so. Something that everyone knows, but it’s not talked about.” I groped for words. “Like the people in Xy avoid talking about my brother’s death. For fear of my grief. Or anger.”
“Aye. You have it.” Isdra nodded, then took a deep breath. “Lara, Marcus was bonded.”
“Really?” I jerked my head around, to spot Marcus behind us. His chin was on his chest, and he appeared to be sleeping in the saddle as his horse walked along. “But his ear—” I stopped myself. His left ear had been burned away in the accident that left him scarred.
Isdra nodded again. “Aye, his ear spiral melted away with his flesh. I do not know the details, Lara. Don’t ask him, even with token in hand, bells all around, and the Warlord at your side. Marcus is known to lash out when the topic is raised. Epor and I try to be considerate, but we know we cause him pain. I was surprised when the Warlord named us your guards, to be open to the skies.”
“Oh, Goddess. Was she killed, Isdra?”
Isdra shook her head. “I will say no more, Lara. For lack of knowledge, and for courtesy. But if you wish to speak of bonding. I will chatter like the magpie I am.” I could almost feel her grin as she handed back my token.
“Tell me about bonding.”
“I’ll say to you as I would teach a young one. Not to offend, but to inform.” I could hear a rhythm in her voice, as if she were reciting it as she had been taught. She took my silence for assent, and continued. “Here is the way of the Plains. Once the required babes are birthed, and honor won through battle, one has the freedom to choose to enter a bond. Bonding binds two souls, and as with all bindings it can cause pain as well as pleasure. Where once one mind and body worked together, now so must two mesh. This is more of a challenge than the fiercest battle, for a battle lasts but hours, but the work of a bond is constant and never-ending. Adjusting to each other, the bond grows or withers with every breath. Rare is a bonding, but when it is found, it is priceless in the joy it bestows.”
“You can’t bond until you have had children?”
“And served the tribes as a warrior, yes.”
“So,” I licked my lips. “Bonded couples don’t sleep with others?”
Isdra was silent for a moment. “I have heard that Xyians have different customs than we do. How do you mean, ‘sleep’?”
My face grew hot, and I was just as glad that she couldn’t see me. “For a man and a woman to lie together. To touch in ways that bring pleasure to both of them.”
“Ah. Then yes, bonded couples do not ‘sleep’ with others.”
“How does that—” I fumbled my words, unsure of what I really wanted to ask. “How does that feel?”
Isdra seemed to understand what I was asking. “Ah, Lara, Epor is my heart’s fire.”
She turned her head and my eyes followed. Epor was off to the side, riding about a horse-length in front of us. His blond braid was shining gold in the sun, and the light caught the beads and wire woven into his ear. One of the other riders said something, and Epor threw hi
“Oh, yes.”
“Was there a ceremony?” I asked.
“There can be. Depends on the bonded pairs.” Isdra laughed. “I walked up to Epor at a dance and announced my intention. The look on his face . . .”
“Do bonded have children?”
Isdra laughed again. “Well, this bonded will not. My moon cycles dried up long ago.” Isdra tilted her head to the side. “All bonded are older, Lara. They have served their people in the required ways, and are free to follow what paths they will.” She paused. “This is our last campaign.”
“Really? What will you do next?”
“Epor wishes to work with the herds. I’d thought of being thea to little ones.” She twisted about in the saddle to give me a sly look. “Perhaps thea to your babes.”
My face flushed again. “I’m not pregnant, Isdra.”
She chuckled. “You’re young, Lara. Keir is virile. There’ll be babes.”
I bit my lip, suddenly angry. Had she slept with Keir? I tried to push that little thought out of my head. Their ways were different, and I knew that Keir had probably been . . . active. But the thought of him with another woman burned in the back of my head.
“As to that,” Isdra continued. “We need to make sure you understand our language completely, lest there be errors made. There are many words for ‘sleeping’ in our language. Let us go through them, starting with—” she broke off her words and looked to her right.
I turned as well, to see Keir riding off to the side. Dressed in his armor, his two sword hilts jutting over his shoulders, he looked every inch the Warlord. It lifted my heart to see his dark hair and those bright blue eyes that had captured my love the first time I saw him. Even covered in dust, and with a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, he looked wonderful.
Keir rode a bit closer, with an apologetic expression. “If I can break the bells, I’d ask for the Warprize, Isdra.”
She nodded, and removed the bells from the horse’s mane. My rescuer rode closer, and swept me into his saddle, much to my great relief.
Keir took me in front of him, sideways across the saddle. As I settled in place, he claimed a kiss, a kiss that spoke of hunger, desire and our separation. Any fears that I had of his feelings for me were swept away by the heat that flashed through my body. I understood exactly what Isdra meant by ‘fire of my heart’.
He broke the kiss off, and smiled ruefully at my flushed face. “Hold on, Warprize.”
As I put my arm around his neck, he urged the horse into a trot, away from the main body of the army. When my normal bodyguards made as if to follow, he waved them off. As he guided the horse, it gave me a chance to study the face of the man who had my heart. It hadn’t taken me long to learn that the Warlord of the Plains, the feared Cat, Ravager and Destroyer had an odd sense of the ridiculous. Sometimes when Keir was being stern, he was laughing deep within. This was one of those times, for he had the oddest look on his face, the look he gets when he finds something funny but doesn’t want to show it. I looked at him closely. “What amuses you so?”
“Look behind us.”
Puzzled, I pulled myself up, looked over his shoulder, and gaped in surprise. Every warrior had a clump of bloodmoss somewhere on his or her person, their hair, their cloaks, their horses. Gils had spread the word well. They had all gathered bloodmoss. I choked back a laugh.
“Now why do I think that you might have something to do with that.” Keir’s voice was solemn, but humor danced in his eyes. I couldn’t help it. I laughed right out loud.
Keir held me tight, allowing his grin to escape. “Care to tell me why all my warriors have weeds adorning their persons?”
“It’s bloodmoss. An herb.”
“I gathered that.” Keir replied, this time in Xyian.
I rolled my eyes and laughed again. Keir’s command of my language was much better than my understanding of his.
Keir continued, mock growling at me. “It’s hard for my ravening hordes to strike terror in the hearts of the enemy when they are adorned in weeds.”
“It’s very useful.”
“How so?”
I explained, talking about its usage and offering to cut myself to show him how it worked. That brought a bellow of laughter from him, even as he declined my offer. I didn’t pay much attention to our direction until Keir brought the horse to a stop. “Let’s hope that you don’t need that much bloodmoss anytime soon.”
We’d ridden a ways off from the army, to a large clump of alders, their branches thick with small leaves just starting to turn yellow. A warrior held Keir’s horse as he dismounted. Keir looked up at me, smiling with anticipation. I look down into twinkling blue eyes. “What mischief are you planning, Warlord?”
His smile grew. “None, Warprize. Shall I carry you? It’s not far.”
“I can walk.” I started to slide from my perch but Keir put his hands on my waist and slowly lowered me to the ground. The gesture by itself was not a suggestive one, but my face grew hot at its implication as he placed me gently on my feet.
Keir chuckled slightly, and took my hand. “Come, shy one.”
My feet were still a bit tender, but I could walk in the soft slippers that Marcus had provided. Keir led me through the bushes, keeping the lower branches off me with his strong arm. Birds twittered and protested, taking flight as we worked our way through the growth. We emerged on the shore of a small pond, surrounded on all sides by thick, yellow alders. A blanket had been laid to the side, with bundles piled next to it. I had that brief glimpse before Keir swept me off my feet. “Perhaps the shy Warprize would enjoy a bit of seclusion, for a bath and a meal with her Warlord.”
“What? No guards? Just us?”
“Oh, there are guards.” He placed me on the blanket and started to divest himself of his swords and daggers. “Beyond the alders, out of sight. I can raise them with a shout, if I need to.” He placed his weapons on the corner of the blanket, close at hand in case of need. “Iften is my Second. Yers is my Third. The army will be safe with them for a time. I have something more important to do.”
The blanket was soft beneath me, cushioned underneath with grasses. I lay back, and watched as he removed the stiff leather armor, stripping down the under-padding, leaving him in only his trous. My breath quickened as I watched him, and he knew it too, if the occasional flash of his blue eyes in my direction was any indication.
With wonderful grace he settled on the blanket next to me. “Oh?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “And what important task would that be?”
He gave me a knowing smile, and leaned closer, reaching out to pull me in to his body. I yielded willingly, loving the feeling of being wrapped in his strength. Keir nuzzled my ear, and whispered softly. “One that requires my complete attention.”
His free hand worked its way under my tunic to stroke my waist. I caught my breath at his touch, shivering with need and anticipation. The alders danced over his head, the pattern of shadow and light all around us. Somehow all my miseries disappeared when I was in his arms. It all seemed clearer, easier. Perfect.
Keir moved his hands up my back, claiming a soft, warm kiss that went on and on. He sat us up, and it was only when my breastband was pulled over my head that I realized he’d left me with naught but my trous. I shivered, and Keir wrapped me in his arms again, easing me back down on the blanket, and I welcomed him into my arms, letting my hands explore those broad shoulders.
His skin was spicy and warm, and I nuzzled him behind his ear as his hands gently stroked my shoulders, stopping to hover over my upper arm. I pulled back and watched as his fingers traced the two pale scars that lay there. His voice was a soft rumble in my ear. “These are well?”
“Yes.” The scars were from an attack that had come at my brother’s behest. They would fade in time, but the memory would take longer for both of us. Mine, for the fear of the moment, Keir’s for the guilt
“And your feet?”
“They’re fine.” I gave him a look as his fingers drifted down to the waist of my trous. “If we’re to bathe, Warlord, why are we lying on this blanket?”
He tilted his head, smirking slightly. “Well, we need to get dirty first, don’t we?”
I laughed. “Dirty?”
His hands moved again, burning the skin of my breast with his touch. “Perhaps ‘sticky’ is a better word?” He grinned at me then, his entire face lighting up.
I smiled back, pulled his head down, and kissed him. He responded, and within moments the alders, the sun, and the world around us melted away. All of my senses were wrapped in him, focused on the feel of his skin against mine.
His fingers drifted back down, under my trous to stroke the curve of my hip. I moved my hands to trail them up over his arm to rest on his shoulder. His eyes were halfclosed and he nuzzled my neck, leaving soft kisses along my throat, down to the juncture of my breasts. His tongue traced the under curve, taking my very breath.
“Keir,” I whispered, afraid to say more, wanting him to continue. As swift as I could wish, our trous were gone, and his legs were entangled with mine. I ran my foot up his leg, scraping the skin with my toenails. He groaned, then caught my leg in his large hand, pulling it up and over his thigh. But still he teased, denying me the contact I craved.
Instead, he moved his hand to stroke me deep within, responding to my movements and cries to insure my joy. I’d heard tales, of course, of men who took their pleasure and gave nothing in return. But to my lover, my bliss was as important as his own. Goddess knew, Keir was adept, and I tried not to think about how he’d learned those skills. Each time we loved, he proved that the hands that wielded a deadly blade could dance over my body, leaving me breathless and ready for more. This time was no different, as I cried out, grabbing at his arms as I exploded into pure pleasure.
As I returned to sanity, he rolled onto his back, taking me with him, sprawled over his body like a blanket. Now it was my turn, to touch and to tease, using his teachings against him. He let me explore with a will, allowed and encouraged my tentative touches. I knew the male body as a healer, but it was an entirely different thing to watch it respond as a lover. I tried to return the courtesy, letting his moans and movements lead me to bolder and stronger actions. My savage Warlord gasped and trembled beneath me, and that trust wrapped around my heart.