Warcry

get her to Lara for her turn at the breast.”
    Atira stood as well.
    Keir paused. “Do not think that this will be easy or comfortable,” he warned. “Their ways are far different from ours.”
    “Life on the Plains is hard,” Atira nodded. “It will be hard here as well. It’s just—” She looked off into the garden and sighed. “I have much to think on.”
    A thin wail came from Kayla, gaining in volume. “Good hunting,” Keir said, as he headed for the castle.
    Atira sat back down on the bench.
    She loved dancing, designing the patterns. But dances lingered only in memory after the dance ended. True enough that the memory of the Plains was long and deep, but even so.
    She drew a breath, closed her eyes, and pictured her return to the Plains. Free to fight and ride, the skies open, with no restrictions. For a moment she smiled at the thought.
    But even in her mind’s eye, Heath rode beside her.
    Atira stared at the walls of the castle and the gardens. On the Plains, one could see for miles and ride for days without a change in the grasslands around one. Life there did not change any more than the elements themselves did.
    But here . . . the vision of the forge rose in her mind, with Dunstan lifting his hammer as the hot metal flared. Working with the elements to create wondrous things.
    What could she and Heath do together?
    Atira rose and went to the door of the kitchen. Marcsi was there, stirring a pot. She looked up and gave Atira a smile.
    Atira smiled back. “Marcsi, could I borrow a cloak?”
    Atira took the path through the garden and left through the main gates. The city swallowed her up in an instant.
    So many people, laughing, talking, shouting—each going about their tasks. Most ignored her, some darted around or in her path, or made way. Their eyes would widen when they saw her; Atira was fairly certain that was due to her bruises and her lip, still puffy and tender. A few fingers were pointed, and there were whispers of “Firelander” as she walked along, but no sense of threat. More curiosity, a little fear. She continued on, trying to remember the way she and Heath had taken.
    But even with her memory, she soon lost her way. The Plains were easy compared to this. You used landmarks, the sun, the stars. Here there were buildings blocking the sun, and they looked all the same to her. Atira ground her teeth in frustration.
    Apparently she was going to have to ask for directions.
    But then she turned a corner, and there was the bent old woman who sold cheese, the one that had spoken to Heath. Kalisa, that was her name.
    Atira approached the cart and waited until the woman’s customer had left before clearing her throat. Kalisa had to tilt her head to the side, so badly was her spine humped over. “Ah, you’re the Firelander who was here the other day with Othur’s son,” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. “You look a bit worse for wear. Were you in the fight at the castle, then?”
    “Yes, elder.”
    “Eh? What is elder ?” the woman asked, even as her hands were cutting a slice of cheese, and placing it between two crackers.
    “A term of respect,” Atira explained. “I seek the shop of Dunstan and Ismari. Can you aid me?”
    Kalisa cackled, pressing the cheese and crackers into her hand. Atira tried to give it back. “I have no coin, elder.”
    “You fought for the Queen. That’s more than enough.” Kalisa tilted her head and pointed down the way.
    Atira thanked her and stepped back as another customer stepped up to buy cheese. She munched on the snack, enjoying the taste as she walked farther down the street.
    Dunstan himself opened the door and moved aside to let her in. “Well, you look a sight.”
    “There was a fight,” Atira explained.
    “Clearly,” Dunstan said. “Do you seek me or Ismari?”
    “Both.” Atira followed the man behind the counter and through the next door into the forge. “And young Garth. I want him to see what happens when a warrior fights without armor.”
    Dunstan nodded, even as Ismari came up, wiping her hands with a rag. “Atira,” she gasped. “Your poor face. And the shoulder?”
    “Joint went out of the socket,” Atira said.
    “I’ll fetch Garth. Wouldn’t hurt to fetch them all, so they can see the price a warrior pays. Might knock some of the stars from their eyes.” Dunstan strode off, shouting for the journeymen and apprentices.
    “So you’ve come to talk to Dunstan?” Ismari asked, her eyes alight with