“Keir, you should have said that she cannot ride.” Keekai’s voice rose behind me, and I stifled a laugh that was more of a sob. I didn’t look back as I urged my sleepy brown horse into a gallop. With a snort, Greatheart launched himself forward.

It took but a moment, then Keekai and the warrior-priests were beside me, galloping alongside, steering me in the right direction. Which was just as well.

I couldn’t see anything through my tears.

“So,” Keekai drew the word out. I looked across the brazier to see her bright blue eyes alight with curiosity.

We’d traveled for most of the day, leaving Keir and the army behind, alternating our pace between a walk and a trot. As exposed as the Plains made me feel, they weren’t truly flat. But at a distance, the gradual rises and hollows were hidden to the eye. Still, the lack of trees, of something between me and the horizon, was unsettling.

We’d covered a great deal of distance, but Keekai had called a halt well before the sun had neared the horizon, much to the dismay of the warrior-priests.

We were seated in her tent, a brazier glowing between us. Keekai had two warriors who took care of her tent, gear, and meals—Regular warriors, and I was thankful for that. I’d had my fair share of being glared at by tattooed warrior-priests all day.

“So. We’ve heat and kavage, and bells at the flap. You know what the bells mean?” Keekai asked.

“That we wish to be private.” Keekai’s tent was smaller than Keir’s, but it was comfortable. Certainly it was warm enough. I was sweating under my tunic. Keekai wasn’t though. She had a blanket over her lap, and another over her shoulders.

“So. Why Iften?” Her face was intent and curious.

I hesitated for a moment, but Keir had said that she could be trusted. So I smiled at her. “We have a saying in Xy. ‘You can kill a cat with cream’.”

Keekai laughed.

Iften had ridden next to me the entire day, apparently taking his duties seriously. He’d constantly scanned the horizon for trouble, but never once bothered to speak to me.

Which was fine with me. I used the time to get a good look at his arm and fingers.

Sure enough, they were swollen, and had a lifeless, curled look about them. The skin was too pale, stretched thin over the puffy flesh. He was handling the reins, but I knew what was happening. He was using those leather bracers to try to splint the arm, never mind that one needed to set the bone. He was going to lose the use of the arm. By his own choice. I’d offered aid, but he’d rejected my healing skills, publicly and privately.

Still...

“It got Iften away from the army,” I continued. “And it allows Keir to talk to his warriors without Iften’s subtle talk against him. Iften has his own sense of honor, one that will not permit him to do anything other than see me safely to the Heart of the Plains.”

“It also gave him a chance to spread his truths in the Heart, Lara.” Keekai shrugged. “Only the skies can say if it was wise or not. And that troublemaker Gathering Storm still remained with Keir.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The warrior-priest that was with Iften when I arrived,” Keekai answered. “He is called Gathering Storm, and well named, since storms arise wherever he goes.” Keekai got a sly grin on her face. “But well worth it to see Iften’s smirk wiped away, eh?”

I laughed, and nodded my head in agreement. But then I leaned forward, to ask the question that had bothered me all day. “Keekai, are you Keir’s mother?”

“Mother?” Keekai asked with a frown. “One who bears a child?” At my nod, she shrugged, the blanket sliding down her shoulder. Her eyes dropped down to the fabric, but not before I saw pain in her eyes. “How would I know? My teats were always dry at the birthing, and the babes given to another to suckle as soon as they popped out. He is of my tribe, that is certain.” She pulled the blanket up around her. “This is important to you? To your people?”

I gave her a nod, still caught up in the differences between our worlds.

“How different we are,” echoing my own thoughts, Keekai continued. “Yet we share the same skies.” She shook her head, and set her mug aside. “We will talk, you and I, as we go. I have so many questions that I wish to ask, I don’t even know where to start. But there is time. We will sleep on it.” Her grin flashed. “Besides, Still Waters will have us up at the break of dawn.” She stood and reached for my mug. “Best that we sleep together, you and I. Iften has his own honor, but let’s not test it too far, eh?” She headed for the tent flap. “I’ve been told you Xyians have privacy about your bodies. I’ll leave so that you may prepare for sleep.”

I thanked her, and took advantage of her courtesy to strip down and climb into my bedding. I also stripped off the knife harness and tucked it deep into my satchel.

Keekai returned within moments, and set about laying out her weapons within reach and preparing her pallet for sleep. Safe under my bedding and fur, I listened as her breathing slowed. It was only then that I could really think about what had happened this day; the anger of the warriors at the attempt to honor Marcus; the look on Iften’s face when I asked for him as Guardian; the feel of Keir’s arms around me, and the look in his eyes as I’d slid from his grasp.

Something crackled in the brazier and I shifted under the bedding and sighed. Keir would be about his business and come after me as fast as he could.

But oh, how I missed him. I missed his being there, his soft breathing, his warmth. Somehow Keekai’s soft snores just weren’t the same. And not just his physical presence in my bed. There were a hundred things I wanted to tell him or talk over with him. To laugh with him over Iften’s reaction. To debate my choice of Guardian.

I yawned, thankful for the tiredness that washed over me. My bedding had been packed by Marcus, and I snuggled down, trying to convince myself that Keir’s scent was still in the blankets, and the fur that lay on top of me. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift off to sleep. Goddess, keep watch over Keir and keep him safe, wherever he is.

The next few days were filled with much the same routine. We’d break camp at the earliest that the horses could travel, and then journey until Keekai called a break at the nooning. Then we rode again until she called to make camp. With the riding that I’d done before with Keir, it was no trouble to stay in the saddle for so long. Iften stayed by my side, and Keekai never let me out of her sight. There was a definite lack of conversation, but I spent my time wondering at the land around us.

It seemed to spread out before us forever, with nothing but the flat grasslands and the never ending sky. The grass was still afire, extending out in a thick carpet of reds, oranges, and golds. The sheer immensity of it took my breath away, and I found myself looking down into the grass below me just to keep my sense of balance.

As we rode, Keekai would sometimes move close and we would talk. But we were very conscious of our listeners, and so our topics were of Xy, and how we lived. Keekai was fascinated by stone tents, and city life.

But at night, each of us on our pallet, the brazier burning between us, she’d focus those bright blue eyes on me and ask deeper questions. “All I know of you is what is whispered on the winds,” she said, her eyes bright. “What makes a city-dweller leave her lands to venture onto the Plains?”

So I told her, about the war and the tents of healing and Simus’s wound and Keir. She listened intently, occasionally asking a question or two, but mostly listening, her eyes sparkling with her interest. She didn’t criticize, or condemn, just listened. I talked about Anna the cook, and the kitchens under her control, of my Master Eln, and how he’d taught me everything I know. I even described the old cheesemaker and her cart in the market back in Water’s Fall.