There were even plans of a more permanent camp, which had surprised me until Marcus pointed out that it would take days to butcher the animals. Only something called the first meats would be taken tonight, with guards posted to drive off scavengers. Even with everyone working, it would take time to cut and preserve the meat and hide.

While Marcus and the others worked on preparations, I had a job to do as well. A few of the injured sought me out for healing. Nothing truly serious, thank the Goddess, mostly bruises and cuts. It pleased me that some of them trusted me to treat these ills, accepting my skills.

Not everyone felt that way. I knew full well that there were others that would not come to me, and I made no effort to seek them out. There’d been no broken bones that I knew of, and I didn’t bother to ask after Iften.

Let him consult the warrior-priest that cast the ‘healing spells’ on his arm.

I thought about that as I sat by the fire, putting away the last of my supplies. I was sure that he’d tried to use his injured arm to throw that lance, and from the looks of it, the pain had flared when he’d hefted the lance. It was only a matter of time before the swelling damaged the arm, numbing the muscles and curling the fingers into a useless claw. But he’d made his choice, and he’d have to live with the consequences.

The sound of horses brought me to my feet, and I watched as Keir, Prest, and Rafe rode in, covered in dirt and grass stains on what was left of that old clothing. I took a few tentative breaths, but Keir just laughed and swept me up by the hips, holding me high as he spun, laughing up at me. I clutched at his hair, breathless with my own laughter. Thankfully, the smell wasn’t too bad, but it was still there.

Keir put me on my feet, and Marcus handed him saddle bags and his weapons. “Clothes and some soap. You have enough time to wash before the celebration begins.”

My eyes widened as I took in Rafe and Prest. Rafe seemed fine, but Prest. . . “Prest, you shaved your head!” Those long black braids were gone. Prest’s bald head gleamed in the light.

He shrugged and ran a hand over his baldness. “Easier to shave.” He flashed me a smile. “It grows back.”

“Eventually,” Rafe added. “Until then, I will need to protect my eyes from the glare.”

We laughed, then Keir took my hand. “I’ve something to show Lara down by the river. We will return.”

Marcus put his hands on his hips. “None of that, now. There’s a celebration to start, and no time for ‘showing’ her—”

Keir cut him off, as I blushed. “We’ll be back in time.”

Marcus gave him an evil smile. “I’ll have the first meats waiting.”

Keir grimaced, and grabbed my hand. “Come, Lara.”

We walked out of the light of the fires, heading away from the camp, Rafe and Prest trailing behind. I knew there was a river nearby, since others had talked of getting water there, but hadn’t ventured in that direction. It felt good to hold Keir’s hand and walk as the sun set in the distance. He tugged me along, looking as if he was searching for just the right place.

Finally, he dropped the saddle bags, and took up his weapons. “Leave your satchel here. Walk behind me and stay very quiet. I want to show you something.”

He gestured for my guards to stay behind. Then we walked slowly and carefully down a small path to the banks of the river. Keir urged me off to the side, under the shelter of some alders. We crouched below the branches, and Keir settled us down, draping my cloak over the both of us. “Watch the far shore.”

We waited, sitting close together, silent.

I leaned closer, and put my lips to his ear. “What did Marcus mean? About the first meat?” I leaned back to look into his face.

Keir made a face, and put his lips to my ear. His breath tickled as he spoke. “A warlord is given the first meats, the heart, liver, and stomach, of the ehat as an honor, to keep or to share as he sees fit.” I raised an eyebrow. He sighed. “I hate the taste of first meats. Always have.”

I chuckled in spite of myself.

“So, I make a great show of sharing the meats with all my warriors. Out of my generous spirit and in honor of my warriors.” Keir rolled his eyes. “I still have to eat some, but usually only a bite or two. With four ehats, my plate will overflow tonight.”

I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter. “Marcus knows?”

“Marcus knows. And now you. My most shameful secret.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Keir placed a finger on my lips, and shook his head. His hand tightened on mine, and I looked over to see a creature making its way to the water.

It was big, its yellow eyes bright in the fading light. Its fur was striped like the grasses about us, black and orange. It padded to the water’s edge and started to drink.

“What is that?” I whispered, barely breathing.

“A cat,” Keir breathed back.

A cat? That was no cat, no cat like I’d ever seen in the mountains. I could easily see this creature pulling down an ehat by itself. I sucked in a breath as it lifted its head and looked straight at us. Then it shook its massive head, yawned, and started to drink again.

Goddess above, it had a lot of teeth.

“The scent of the kill pulled it close. The scouts told me it was lurking near here. I’d hoped to show you the symbol of my Tribe. Another gift of the elements.” Keir sounded smug and very pleased with himself. “We are favored, you and I.”

“Do you hunt those?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Keir answered. “Unless they take to hunting among the people of the Tribes. Then there is no choice. But the body is buried with honor, and the spirit mourned.”

The cat lifted its head, testing the breeze. Its mouth curled back in a silent snarl, and then it turned and padded off into the darkness, fading into the grasses in the blink of an eye.

“Come.” Keir tugged my hand. “I’ll bathe closer to people this night.”

I readily agreed.

Keir bathed quickly, with the other men and women of the musk teams who had waited to give the dirt and grasses time to work. I stayed on the bank with his clothes and weapons and snuck glances of my naked, wet Keir. Rafe and Prest stayed close. There were others about, cavorting in the water, men and women warriors alike. I still flushed at some of their antics. But most knew my customs, and I noticed that an effort was made to stay out of my view.

Keir, however, made sure I could see him.

Once he was dry, he dressed. Marcus had given him some soft brown leather trous, a vest of black leather, and a tunic of soft white cotton. I could hardly wait to get him out of it, if I were to be honest with myself.

But that would have to wait.

We started back, laughing and talking. He was describing the celebration to me, how the ehat spirits would be thanked, the honors awarded, the first meats handed out, and the merriment that would follow well into the night.

I took his hand as we neared the camp. “I’ve yet to see you dance, Keir.”

“I’ll dance this night,” he promised. “I’ll dance this night for everyone to see, and then we’ll dance together, you and I.” He pulled me close. “In the privacy of our tent, beneath the blankets.

I blushed, and he laughed, keeping his arm around my waist. We walked right into their midst without a warning, not even aware they were there.

It was Marcus’s stiffness that told us both something was wrong. Marcus jerked his head to the side, and we turned to see a horde of mounted warrior-priests, filling the intended dance grounds, their eyes glittering, their faces stiff and serious. The light of the fire pits made their multi-colored tattoos almost move over their bodies.

I gasped, without thinking, and Keir stepped forward, placing himself in front of me.

The warrior-priest in front urged his horse forward a pace. “We have come for the Warprize.”