Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)

All eyes shifted to her, then, and she tried for a more dignified look. “Heath, Warden of Xy,” she started formally, but then her joy was too much for her. “I found them!”

Other people flooded the area, Warren, Wilsa, and more guards. They all froze and approached cautiously.

“You did,” Heath laughed with her. “How did you—”

Amyu pulled the sword from her back. “Warden,” she said solemnly. “The Crystal Sword of Xy is whole again.”

That brought a gasp from everyone, at the sight of the sword in her hands. It glittered blue in the sunlight, and the stone of the ring flashed as well. Amyu noticed that Enright was using his white cloth to wipe his eyes.

“The protectors of Xy have arisen,” Amyu said as she gave the Sword and Ring back to Heath.

“Them?” Heath exclaimed. “There’s more?”

“Yes,” Amyu said. “Of various colors, including black. They are with the others. We didn’t want them flying off toward the walls, for fear they would be harmed.”

“Is it tame?” Atira asked, eyeing the sharp beak and talons.

“So far,” Amyu said. “But we have much to learn. The others are willing,” she grinned again, remembering the look of horror on some faces. “Well, some are.”

“Others?” Heath asked.

Amyu took a deep breath. “The warrior-priests-in-training,” she said.

Atira and Wilsa stiffened.

Amyu continued, “The ones that Joden spoke of. They heard me call to the airions and used their powers to travel here. They will aid me, if you allow it.”

“Warrior-priests,” Atira’s voice was flat and angry.

Amyu stared her down. “Yes. They seek their place, as I seek mine. As a barren woman of the Plains. As a child who disobeyed her elders. As a magic-wielder. As one who has given her oath to the Warlord and Warprize.”

Atira dropped her eyes, glanced at Heath, and then nodded. “Truth,” she acknowledged. “But they have not yet given their oaths.”

“We will come to you,” Heath said. “We will talk, and see what comes of that. What needs do you have?”

Amyu mounted the airion, and called her magic to form the straps. “We are in the fields outside of Kalisa’s cheese cave,” she said. “We need the saddles within, and new ones made,” she frowned again. “And more cows. I do not wish to wipe out their herd.”

“If they eat cows,” Heath laughed. “Then more cows you shall have. We will come as quickly as we can, Amyu of the Skies.”

Amyu jerked her head around to look at Heath. He bowed his head as a warrior bows to another. Her gaze traveled over all of them, and they all bowed their heads to her.

Emotion welled up in her chest. Pride, joy and something she dared call happiness.

Amyu blinked rapidly against her tears and urged her mount with her knees. The great creature creed and sprang up and off the tower, its wings spread as it dipped then rose gloriously into the sky.

Her heart was full. And maybe, just maybe, some of the cracks within were healing. But the largest crack? The largest flaw?

Joden was not here to see. To know. To share.

If she wept as she flew, only the skies were witness.





Chapter Thirty-Two


Joden was behind Queen Xylara as she rode out, waving to her people, using something called a sidesaddle. Cheers and well-wishes filled the air as the joint forces of Xy and the Plains passed through the gates of the City of Water’s Fall.

“I know, it looks odd to you,” Lara had wrinkled her nose at all of the Plains warrior’s comments. “But trust me, it’s the only way I am going to mount Greatheart at this point.”

The crowd loved her, and there were just as many cries of support for Warlord Keir of the Cat, Overlord of Xy, who rode at the side of his beloved, waving to the crowd between worried glances at the saddle.

“Stop that,” Lara said at one point. “I am not going to fall.”

Keir just gave her a skeptical look.

Once he saw the gates. Joden kept his eyes on his horse’s mane. It was a truth, but if the dead were waiting outside the city walls, it felt like more than he could bear. But he couldn’t help himself, and after a few minutes, he glanced around.

The fields were empty except for the burial mounds.

He drew a breath, and sat a bit straighter, grateful and yet disappointed as well.

After an hour, they came to a rise, where wooden wagons were waiting under heavy guard. Rafe and Prest were there as well. The royal contingent pulled off the road, as the army continued on.

Lara dismounted quickly. “Are they still sleeping?” she asked as Keir aided her up onto the wagon.

“Yes,” Anna said. “As sweetly as you could wish,” she was settled in a corner with the babe’s baskets beside her. “I swear the rocking motion soothes them.”

Marcus turned where he sat next to the driver. “Let us offer to the elements for that,” he said. “Now settled yourselves, and let’s be off. The army is leaving us behind.”

Lara nodded, and sat opposite Anna on a pallet of gurtle pads and pillows. “Anna, are you sure you—”

“You are not going without me,” Anna said firmly.

Joden had to admire the woman’s grim determination. A city-dweller her entire life, she was leaving her kitchens, her family, her world behind to care for her loved ones. There was a fierce commitment in her eyes, covering over her nervousness.

Keir was talking to the Xyian guard. “Keep them in the middle at all times. There will be Plains warriors in front and behind you.”

“Aye, Warlord,” The man said. “We’ll keep them safe.”

Keir gave a nod, and the wagon headed out, merging in with the mounted units.

Keir mounted. “The wagons will remain in the center,” he said. “Have the scouts gone out?”

Prest gave a nod. “I have them ranging to the fore, the sides and behind. I also assigned watchers to the skies to watch for wyverns.”

“Warren and Wilsa have the front,” Keir ‘s mount stamped under him, expressing its impatience, and he patted its neck. “I will travel with each unit in turn, but I will spend each night with Lara at the wagons.” He gave a rueful smile. “At least, that is my intent. We will see what the skies will.”

A murmur of assent. One never knew what the need would be when the armies marched.

“We are limited,” Keir said. “The Xyians march well, but we must travel at their pace.” He looked out after the army, moving slowly past the rise. “Also, we bear supplies for Liam and Simus and any other Warlord that joins with us. Those wagons slow us as well.” Keir looked at Joden. “Which is where you come in, Joden. Our travel will be slow, and I worry that Xyian and Plains will not all rub along smoothly. Especially since they are all men, although I think they have learned there is a price for disrespect to our warriors. If you would, be my eyes and ears where I cannot be. Let me know what you learn.”

Joden nodded. He served Keir before in this manner, and would again.

“One last thing,” Keir frowned. “There have been no messages from Liam or Simus for some time. If a messenger comes, get word to me or Lara immediately.”

Prest cocked his head. “You fear news of betrayal.”

Keir shook his head. “I can deal with betrayal,” he said. “It is the silence I fear.”




Joden had deliberately lost himself in the preparations for the march to the Plains. It was easy enough to do. The familiar thrum of the warriors around him had let him forget, even ignore his heartache.

He’d honored Amyu’s request. He’d not sought her out after she’d left his room. He had not tried to get a glimpse of her during the days, and the nights…

Well, she’d said nothing of his dreams.

She’d haunted his dreams. Her scent, her hair, her face as she’s taken pleasure in both their bodies. But even more, her wry wit and sparkling eyes. She was so very special, so very precious to him. Yet as a Singer, a would-be Singer, he should not feel this way. He should be the first to urge her to the snows as one who would never become a warrior and a drain on the Tribe’s resources.

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