Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)

Veritt raised his eyebrows.

“I will challenge Keir to combat to the death,” Antas said. “I will offer this method to resolve our differences, and I will call on him not to spend the lives of his warriors. He will agree, for that is his weakness, Veritt. He will agree, and we will carve out a challenge circle between the two armies, and all will witness our fight.”

Antas thumped his chest. “If I kill him, so be it. But if he looks to be winning, you will be there. You will cry out loud that he has betrayed his word and attack Keir’s Second. That will give the signal for archers to fire. Keir and Simus will fall dead. If Keir’s Warprize is there, so much the better. She will die too.” Antas smiled and almost enjoyed the ache in his cheeks.

Veritt stood silent, his eyes on the ground. He shifted his weight, folding his arms over his chest. “This is not the way of the Plains,” he said softly.

Antas nodded. “There is truth in that, Veritt and I honor it. But I would restore what we have lost, and I will do that at the cost of honor if necessary.” Antas stood and put his hand on Veritt’s shoulder. “Our sacrifice, for the good of our people. Besides, none but you and I will ever know.” He paused. “I need to know I have your support in this,” he said.

After a long moment, Veritt lifted his head, and look Antas square in the eyes. “I will do what must be done,” he said.

“As your Warlord commands?” Antas demanded.

“As my Warlord commands,” Veritt said.




Quartis arrived late to the hidden Singer camp. A senel was in progress, and he had to push his way through the crowded tent toward the front.

Eldest Elder Essa was seated on his platform, drinking kavage, and waiting.

Quartis made a bow, and then went to sit by Para.

“You’re late,” Para hissed.

Quartis rolled his eyes at her. “The Ancients?” he whispered.

“No sign,” came the soft response. “And he’s in a real snit.”

Quartis sat down, accepted water for the washing ritual, and then took a mug of kavage. He tried to keep his head down, but Essa’s eyes were on him.

“I call this senel to order,” Essa announced, his voice cutting through the conversation. “I commanded that we watch and see what actions the Warlords took. I would have your reports. Garso,” he gestured and a young woman rose to her feet.

“I was sent to the army of Niles of the Boar,” she began and from there it was a normal report, talking of raiding and successful battles.

Essa nodded, and then questioned each Singer in turn as to the Warlord they had been assigned to. All was normal, until he reached Annith.

“I was assigned to Osa of the Fox,” the Singer reported. “She did not take her army to the field.”

“What?” Essa asked as the tent stirred.

“She gathered her army, and then gathered at least two thea camps.” Annith said. “She kept them close until they joined with Warlord Ultie.

“This I can verify,” Roci stood. “I was assigned to Ultie, and I linked up with Annith when the armies came together. They sit together, off to the west of here, sending out scouts but not engaging.”

“They wait,” Essa mused. “For events.”

“As do we,” Quartis said, louder than he intended.

“As do we,” Essa nodded. “Report, Quartis.”

Quartis rose, and nodded to his Eldest Elder. “I have watched for activity near the Xyian border,” he said. “Both Simus and Antas head in that direction, separated by days. Simus’s path is direct. Antas is slower, perhaps because of the damage his camp suffered. Perhaps by intent.”

Essa gave him a nod, and Quartis sat back down, easing his dry throat with a sip of kavage.

“Thron, I sent you to the Heart,” Essa said. “What say you?”

Thron stood. “Would that I could offer good news, Eldest Elder,” Thron shook his head. “The lake is still surrounded by wyvern, who now feed their young in the nest. They are voracious in appetite, and it is only by the grace of the elements that I stand here. The Heart itself is empty of life, and there is an enormous dead wyvern rotting on the stone.” Thron made a face. “It will take an army to clear the area, if the wyverns leave.”

“And if they don’t leave?” Essa asked.

“Then many warriors will die trying,” Thron answered. “And their deaths will be agonizing”

Essa nodded. “My thanks, Thron.” As the man sat, Essa rose to his feet.

“At this time of year, we would normally scatter to the various armies, to support our people and bear witness to events. But this is no normal year. At some point, Keir and Antas will confront each other, and it will be at the Xyian border.”

Quartis waited as did those around him.

“We will watch, and wait.” Essa said. “And when the moment is right, we will insert ourselves into the conflict. Taking no position. Judging, as Singers have judged in the past. The Singers must be witness to what occurs.”

Essa considered them all grimly. “Neutral, but I do not trust their truths. I do not trust Antas. So only Quartis and I will go to Xy.

“Eldest Elder,” Para stood to protest. “You must take some of us to guard you.”

Essa nodded. “Four others then, of your choosing, Para. The rest of you will scatter, and shelter with various Warlords.” He rose and stood before them. “Para, you are the eldest and most experienced after myself. Most likely to be chosen Eldest Elder at my death. You will hide yourself with two others, and wait for word.”

“Eldest Elder,” Para tried to argue, but Essa cut her off.

“No,” Essa said. “Too much is at risk. Before you depart, I will share what needs be shared.” A pained look crossed his face, but then he smiled grimly. “In fact, I will share with all of you that which only the Eldest Elders have held. I will not risk my knowledge being lost.”




Hanstau noticed a change in Reness the further north they went. She seemed more distant during the day, and there was a touch of desperation in their love-making at night. He’d thought it was the stress of watching for Antas and his warriors, but when he finally worked up the courage to ask, that was not the answer he received.

“I have a fear,” Reness said, poking at the coals of their evening fire. “A fear that when you are once more in Xy, and with your people, and their walls and their ways that you… you will not—”

Hanstau reached out, and turned her to face him Her cheeks were wet with tears.

She lifted her chin away. “There, I have said it.” Reness scowled. “I feel like a foolish child before her Ascension. Tell me your truths, Hanstau.”

Hanstau sat quietly for a moment, letting his joy spread and settle in his bones. “I am no warrior,” he said. “I have not served in campaigns.”

“I know that,” Reness said, and he could swear he heard a pout in her voice.

“I have been faithful to my lady wife before she died,” Hanstau said. “I have learned my profession and raised our children, and served my Queen, so I have met my obligations to the Tribe of Xy.”

Reness jerked her head around at those words.

“So I say this truth to you, Reness, Eldest Elder Thea, Warrior of the Plains and woman I love, I am sworn to you. Forever.”

Reness stared at him, her tears forgotten. “Those are ritual bonding words,” she whispered.

“Good,” Hanstau lifted his chin. “I got them right then. Now, I believe you have something to say to me?”

“Do,” she hesitated, her eyes wide with growing delight. “Do you know what they mean?”

“Yes,” Hanstau mock frowned at her. “Well?”

Reness’s smile was a pleasure to see, and her hands trembled as she reached for his. Damp and cold, and shaky, he took them into his grip. The golden sparkles surrounded both their hands.

“Hanstau of Xy, Healer, and man that I love, I say this truth to you. I am sworn to you.” Reness leaned in, and pressed her forehead to his. “Forever.”

Hanstau kissed her until they were both out of breath.

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