“I wish.” I smiled sweetly. My voice must have given my intentions away because both Keir and Marcus stiffened. Keekai noted their reaction, and gave me a searching look. “Who do you choose?”
I stood there, staring over her head for just a moment, letting the tension build. Then I smiled at Keekai. “I choose Iften of the Boar.”
That wiped the smirk off his face. Iften gaped like a fish, his face turning red. Everyone else looked at me with the same expression of astonishment.
I stood, outwardly calm, even though my heart raced in my chest. Afraid that I would burst out laughing, I held my breath and waited for an outcry.
But the only sound was the wind in the grass, and Greatheart’s soft snores. Everyone around me stood in stunned silence, then all eyes shifted to Iften’s face. Voices rose around us, but I turned my gaze to Keir.
He was furious, with that vein throbbing in his forehead, and those vibrant blue eyes pierced through me with their fury. I just looked at him, unable to go to his side and explain. ‘Think about it, beloved.’
Then his eyes grew thoughtful, and I knew that he was seeing some of the advantages that I saw. His eyes flicked to Iften, still struggling with the idea, and his mouth quirked slightly. When his gaze shifted back to me, the look he gave me was one of exasperation. ‘I trust you, but you might have warned me.’
I shrugged, and smiled at him. I’d have warned him if I’d thought of it before this moment.
“So. Iften of the Boar.” Keekai’s voice held a very formal and rather satisfied tone. “What say you?”
Iften’s eyes darted around, from me to Keekai, to Keir, and then to the warrior-priests. I’d never seen him at a loss before.
It felt good.
“Iften.” Keekai’s voice was now impatient. “You have been offered the honor of Guardian to the Warprize. How say you?”
Iften’s face was dark, his gaze coming to rest hard on mine. The hate was almost a physical blow. “I accept.”
“Do you pledge to keep the Warprize safe and see her unharmed to the Council of the Elders at the Heart of the Plains?” Keekai pressed the point, more for Keir’s benefit than mine.
Iften put his shoulders back. He’d recovered a bit, and the accustomed sneer was back in his voice when he spoke “I do.”
Keekai nodded. “Then gather your gear. We depart when you are read—”
“Elder.” Keir spoke, interrupting her.
“What now?” Keekai snapped.
“I’d ask that Joden of the Hawk go with you to the Heart. He should return quickly, so that he may be tested as a Singer.” Keir’s voice was bland, as if it meant nothing to him either way, but I knew he wanted someone he trusted with me on the journey.
Keekai gave him a considering look, and turned to speak to Joden, but once again, she was interrupted.
“No.” One of the warrior-priests spoke. It might have been Still Waters, but it was hard to tell. “That one denied mercy and must answer for it.”
Joden had kept his face neutral, but his eyes narrowed at that point. But Keekai was already shaking her head. “My goal is the Warprize, and no other. Joden must make his own way, in his own time.”
“But—” Keir pressed his point, but Keekai would have none of it.
“No, Warlord.” She cut him off with a simple gesture of her hand. She turned a bit, to look at the warriors that had gathered around us. She scowled. “And don’t you all have four ehats to render? Off with you!”
The crowd broke up, warriors scattering off to their tasks. Iften headed to his tent with a warrior-priest, both deep in conversation. Keir moved over to talk to Marcus, and they spoke in low tones. Joden and Yers had stayed behind, along with my four guards. Rafe had a faintly offended look. I caught his eyes and shrugged an apology. He looked at me for a moment, and then his smile lit his face and he shrugged back. I was forgiven.
Marcus came toward me, leaving Keir to stand alone. He pulled Greatheart along, with a snort of protest from the horse. Without hesitation, he stepped between my warrior-priest guards and handed me the reins. Keekai turned her head to look, but didn’t object. My new warrior-priest guards didn’t even bother to look at him.
Greatheart immediately started snuffing at my hair happily. I reached over to scratch him on his chest, just over his scar.
“Hisself says to say he is not certain this is wise. Do not leave Keekai’s side,” Marcus spoke softly as he adjusted Greatheart’s harness.
“I won’t.”
“I say you do this so as to look at that one’s injury, yes?” Marcus’s one eye gleamed bright.
I choked back a laugh, and reached out to put my hand on his arm. “I wish—”
Marcus shook his head. “It cannot be. But you have brightened my skies, Lara.” He took my hand, and shoved the sleeve of my tunic up my arm. He was shielding our movements with his body and cloak.
“Marcus?”
With swift fingers, he strapped something to my arm. It took me a moment, but I recognized it. It was the knife that Heath had been given by Xymund—the knife he had been told to kill me with.
“You release it so, and it is in your hand.” Marcus demonstrated quickly, then reset the blade and pulled my sleeve down. “Tell no one. Practice when you can.”
I nodded, unable to speak. The noises around us told me that Iften was returning. “Keep him safe for me, Marcus,” I begged.
“See to yourself, Lara,” came the gruff answer, and Marcus turned to go. Iften was coming up, leading a horse with saddle and packs, his cloak over his arm. Marcus stepped in close and deliberately walked into Iften, knocking into his shoulder. “Be sure that you keep her safe, cripple.” Marcus hissed.
Iften snarled, fumbling for his sword, but Marcus had already moved past.
In the midst of all of this, I looked through the bodies and the horses to see Keir, standing tall and silent, watching me. I looked over to where Keekai was about to mount. “Keekai?”
She turned and looked at me.
“May I say goodbye to Keir?”
“No.” That from a warrior-priest mounted nearby. “It is forbidden.”
“Pah,” Keekai mocked. “As if her mind can be changed with a simple farewell.” She jerked her head in Keir’s direction, which I took as permission. My warrior-priest guards moved with me, as I walked the short distance to his side.
Keir stepped forward and I went into his arms willingly, wrapped in their warmth and security. I rested my head on his chest above his heart, and drew a deep breath. For one long, wonderful moment, I was safe in his arms, and the world around us vanished.
I felt Keir draw in a breath as well, and knew he felt the same. I hugged him close, trying to commit the moment to memory, waiting for his arms to fall away. But they didn’t. They tightened instead, as if he’d hold me forever.
He couldn’t let me go.
I lifted my head, to see the doubt, worry, and fear in his bright blue eyes. I hesitated, and Keir’s eyes changed, as if he’d made a decision of his own. His arms released me, and I knew in another moment, he’d pull his swords and refuse to let me go.
I couldn’t let him do that. It had to be my decision, my choice.
I shook my head slightly, and he paused. Silently, he stood and waited.
I went up on my toes, and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. Then I stepped back slightly, tucking myself under his shoulder, releasing him with my right hand.
Keir looked down as I took his left hand in mine, and lifted it, to entwine our fingers together, our hands at the level of our chests. I happened to catch Joden looking at us intently from the crowd, but I ignored him and everyone else.
Keir lowered his head to bury his face in my hair. “Are you certain, Lara?”
“For our people. For us,” I whispered fiercely.
“For us,” was his soft reply.
But still, he could not let me go. So I smiled gently, and slipped from beneath his arm, from the safety of his strength, turned and mounted Greatheart. I settled myself in the saddle, and faced the horizon.