“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 he 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 his head back and laughed. I felt Isdra sigh, as she looked ahead. “He’s a fine-looking man, Isdra.”

“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 then-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.”