Simus felt a deep sense of satisfaction as he stood witness to the oaths of his fellow Warlords. Elois and Tsor stood with him, slightly back, but he could feel their pride and approval like the sun on his back. Destal held the younger warriors back, as was proper, but that was fine. Simus’s delight was that much sweeter knowing that Snowfall was close.

First Ultie, then Osa swore their oaths as Warlord, and then with a nod were gone, taking their Seconds and Token-bearers with them. Simus looked at them carefully. Ultie, in particular, seemed diminished somehow. Not in strength, but perhaps in heart. The loss of his Token-bearer had hit him hard.

Osa, on the other hand, seemed cool and unshaken.

They each gave Simus a nod, mounted, and with a glance to the skies, rode off. Simus didn’t blame them. They’d be eager to gather their warriors and set out to start the season. He wished them well, but his was a different path.

Still, it raised questions. Simus turned his head slightly toward Tsor.

Tsor already knew his concern. “We’re ready, Warlord,” Tsor assured him, keeping his voice low. “Destal has had everything packed and loaded on the horses. We’ve but to mount and go to where your army waits.”

Simus gave him a nod, satisfied.

The four Eldest Elders didn’t rush the oaths, but they didn’t waste time either. Still, the sun had moved down toward the horizon by the time they finished and the last Warlord departed.

Still, Simus waited.

Now the four Eldest Elders turned to face him. Niles of the Boar folded his arms over his chest and fixed Simus with a glare. “You delay in running off after Keir to do his bidding, like a foal after a tit?”

Elois drew in a sharp breath; Tsor rumbled.

Simus laughed.

Niles studied him through narrow eyes.

“You think to offer me insult,” Simus said. “So that I will pull my blade?”

Niles shrugged.

“I take no insult.” Simus grew serious. “Keir of the Cat sees what could be for our People, in ways I do not. He is a true leader whose sight is long and clear. But without the aid of strong warriors like me, his vision for the Plains cannot happen.” Simus flashed his grin again. “And I’ll not risk all I’ve won by pulling a blade on you.”

Niles nodded, as if satisfied somehow. “I do not promise I will not oppose you in the future,” he warned.

“Understood,” Simus said.

Niles turned to the others. “I’ve thea camps to find and warn. Haya, have you some idea of where they might be?”

“With those monsters in the sky? As far away as they can be,” Haya said. “But you’ll want to check the winter lodges.”

“My thanks,” Niles said. “I can escort you back to your camp, if you wish.”

“No,” Haya said. “Simus will. I intend to take my charges north with his army.”

That raised eyebrows, especially Simus’s.

Haya snorted at their surprise. “It’s that or cower in the lodges all summer, and I’ll have none of that. My children and life-bearers will be safer with Simus, and there will be a new crop of warriors in the Spring to bolster his ranks.”

“I’d offer my thanks,” Simus started, but Haya shook her head.

“Don’t,” she said. “I’ve added to your burdens, Warlord. Just keep them safe. Send warriors with me, and we will meet up with you and your army.” She turned to Niles. “Come. We will talk before we go.”

They both nodded their heads to Essa and Wild Winds, and strode off together.

“I wished to express my thanks, Eldest Elder Singer,” Simus said. “That was well done.”

“No, it was not,” Essa snapped through swollen lips. “It is not supposed to be this way. There are supposed to be many voices raised in Council, talking, sharing truths, with the four Eldest Elders presiding. Not a single voice. Not a single warrior.”

“Yet, you were the lone voice,” Wild Winds said. “Just as a WarKing would do.”

A chill passed over Simus’s skin.

“It’s true that a WarKing doesn’t have to be a warrior of our people,” Essa said. “And in truth, I am not sure I trust any of you to preserve our people or our ways.” He paused, then gave Simus a very neutral look. “But I can see no way back. You and Keir have put things into motion better left alone.”

“Who’s to say?” Simus said, keeping his voice as neutral as Essa’s.

“The Fall Council,” Essa said.

Simus narrowed his eyes. This was not a challenge he had foreseen.

“But that is an issue for the Council in the Fall,” Essa said. “If we can summon one. If the armies bring back enough to keep our people alive. If the wyverns haven’t destroyed the Heart.” He shrugged. “We will see what we see when that time comes.” Essa turned to Wild Winds, and his voice grew considerably warmer. “It appears we must part, old friend. I must go, for I have work that needs doing.”

“Joden?” Simus asked.

“Not that it is any business of yours, Warlord,” Essa said, frowning. “But if you must know, I go to administer the Singer Trials to all candidates.” He focused on Wild Winds. “Come with me, at least until you are healed.”

Wild Winds started to shake his head, then winced. “No,” he said. “I must return to Lightning Strike and the young ones. They need my teaching.” He faced Simus. “I would take Hanstau, and the warrior that translates for him, with your permission. The healer should get training.”

Simus nodded. “If he agrees, and I think he will. For Lara’s sake.”

“For all our sakes,” Wild Winds said.

“You could come with us,” Simus suggested.

Wild Winds shook his head. “No. I do not yet trust that Keir wouldn’t kill us all. But maybe, in the future. Snowfall knows how to reach me, should the need arise.”

Essa’s warrior escort came up with their horses. “The elements go with you, Wild Winds.” Essa mounted and took up the reins. “I will see you in the Fall.”

“As the elements decree,” Wild Winds said.

Essa raised his hand in salute, and urged his horse on.

“I will go with you, to fetch Hanstau.” Simus said.

Wild Winds looked behind him, to where Snowfall stood waiting with Simus’s warriors.

“You know I will burn you to ash if Keir hurts her,” Wild Winds said.

“He won’t,” Simus said. “Trust me.”

 

 

Simus felt an even deeper sense of satisfaction once they’d seen Wild Winds off with Hanstau and Cadr. His warriors moved around him, their horses saddled and ready to ride.

“Haya is ready.” Tsor pulled himself into his saddle. “There’s time to gather her camp and still reach our army before sunset.”

“That’s well,” Simus started to mount his horse, but Destal came up, Snowfall following behind, leading their horses.

“Warlord.” Destal’s voice was dry. “Let’s not play this game any longer. Snowfall is a full adult warrior, with enough experience that she need not be under my command. She should be at your side, advising you and out of my hair.”

“I should earn my place,” Snowfall said firmly.

“Your dung collecting skills have been proven,” Destal snorted. “The best place for you is at our Warlord’s side.”

“If that is your judgment, Destal,” Simus said. “Snowfall will take duties under Elois.”

Elois snorted. “I can’t wait to see Keir’s face when he hears this tale.”

Tsor laughed. “I can’t wait to see Marcus’s.”

“Mount up,” Simus ordered, and pulled himself up into the saddle. His horse danced a bit, stamping its hooves, eager to be off.

“Have Cimor and his scouts been pulled away from the Heart?” Simus asked.

“Not until I warble,” Tsor said. “I wanted eyes on those monsters at all times.”

“Then let’s be about it,” Simus said.

Tsor lifted his head and warbled a cry that was echoed around them by the scouts.

“Lead the way,” Simus said.

Tsor started off, and the others followed, with Simus at the center.

Snowfall moved her horse up beside Simus, looking cool and collected and content. She favored him with a glance from under her dark lashes.

His heart swelled with the joy of the moment. To have her at his side, to be Warlord, to have survived to reach this time, this moment...

Only one thing remained for perfection.

“Elois,” Simus bellowed. “Let it be known that I would trade with any in my army for the finest gold wire, beads, and small gems. The finest, mind.”

“As you say, Warlord,” Elois said. “But you’d find those things easier in Xy.”

“No, no,” Simus said. “For I would weave a bonding in the ear of Snowfall of the Plains long before we reach Xy.”

The looks of shock and horror around him made his happiness complete. But none more than that of Snowfall, stunned, her mouth hanging open.

Simus smiled.

“You,” Snowfall sputtered, her usual calm countenance alive with outrage and anger.

“You arrogant, stupid, insufferable—”

“One usually asks one’s bonded first,” Elois noted. “Usually under the bells.”

“There is no ‘usual’ with Simus,” Tsor pointed out.

“You and I shall be bonded,” Simus said to Snowfall. “You are the flame of my heart, Snowfall.”

“Your wits never existed,” Snowfall yelled. “Much less having been taken by the winds. Warrior-priests do not bond. Warlords do not bond while—”

“Yes, they do,” Simus said, smiling at her. “We will bond, Snowfall of the Plains, and you will be my star, my flame, my night wind, and my morning sun. You and I—” Simus moved his horse in closer, and swept Snowfall from her saddle.

She didn’t resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him settle her in his arms. “You arrogant, foolish—”

“Say ‘yes,’” Simus said.

Snowfall huffed. “As if I’d agree to bind myself to—”

Simus laughed. “Yes, you will, my heart’s delight.”

“And why would I do that?” Snowfall leaned back to look him in the eye.

“No one else makes your heart pound as I do,” Simus said simply. “No one else makes your mouth go dry with desire. No one else makes you laugh as I do.” He paused, and then grew serious. “As you do for me. Bond with me, Snowfall of the Plains.”

She looked away, and Simus’s heart sank. He’d acted without thinking, but it was his truth and—

The tattoos on her shoulders started to move, and flowers appeared. Red, blue, yellow, all the colors of the Plains in springtime.

He lifted his eyes to find Snowfall giving him a warm look with grey eyes that sparkled.

“What do you say?” Simus asked, daring to hope.

“We will bond, Simus of the Hawk, Warlord of the Plains.” Snowfall pressed her forehead to his. “And you will be my star, my flame, my night wind, and my morning sun.”

Simus blinked away tears, and kissed her, softly at first, then—

“None of that now.” Elois rode closer and rolled her eyes. “You will fall off the horse, and then where will we be?’

Simus roared out his laughter. “Truth,” he said. He helped Snowfall regain her saddle, then looked around at his warriors, all grinning at him.

“There’s work to be done,” he called out. “To Xy!”