Warcry

“Give me strength.”
    “We could return to your chambers,” Heath said. “Plead exhaustion on your part.”
    “No.” Lara opened her eyes and lifted her chin. “This needs to be done.”
    “Have no fear, little bird. Father and I will be at your side, and your guards will be close at hand,” Heath said with a smile.
    Strength flooded back into her face. Lara gave him a grateful smile and then started toward the double doors. “Let’s be about this, then. We’ll deal with the terms of the regency, I’ll announce the High Court dinner and the Justice for tomorrow, and then I will nap.”
    “As you command,” Heath said as the guards opened the double doors and the Council members rose to greet them.
    Othur was seated closest to the head chair, and he was struggling to rise. Lara put her hand on his shoulder. “No need, Lord Othur,” she said as she took her place before her chair. She looked around the table. “My lords, I wish you a good morning.”
    Heath took his position just behind his father’s chair. The Council room hadn’t changed in years. Still the same tapestries covering the stone walls, and the long oak table that the maids kept highly polished. Out of habit he checked the nearest corner of the table. Sure enough, he could still make out the faint blue stain in the grooves.
    The Crystal Sword of Xy lay on the table, sheathed. It was an old tradition, dating back for as long as anyone could remember. The old blade normally hung on the wall here in the chamber, but it was set on the table during Council meetings, the hilt toward the monarch, the point toward the far wall. It only left these chambers when it was needed for ceremonies in the throne room.
    Heath smiled when he saw it. He’d used to beg for his father to draw the sword so he could see it. The blade was thick and clear as glass, and none knew the secret of its forging. Seeing it on the table was almost like seeing an old friend.
    Each lord had his designated seat, and Heath scanned their faces as they waited. Some were forbidding, some harsh, some wise, some serene. Lord Durst’s was bland, but Heath wasn’t fooled. The weapons in this room weren’t swords, but they were just as deadly in their own way.
    Othur looked at Lara, and for a moment, Heath feared that Lara had forgotten the rituals of the Council, but she placed her hand on the hilt of the Sword of Xy as if she’d done it a thousand times before. “I, Xylara, Daughter of Xy and consecrated Queen, do hereby open this Council,” she said. She sat then, and Heath moved to help her adjust her chair as the lords settled into theirs. “Let us start to work, gentlemen, for I tire easily. I believe you’ve seen the documents?”

    ATIRA STOOD NEXT TO KEIR AND FUMED.
    “I would tell you the truth, Warlord,” Elois of the Horse began, standing before the gathered warriors with Keir’s token in her hand.
    “You hold my token,” Keir acknowledged calmly. He was seated on a stool set before the throne at the same level as the warriors.
    “My truth is that I feel betrayed,” Elois said.
    Atira kept her hands clenched behind her, her eyes focused on the far wall, her anger simmering in her gut.
    Just as well she was angry. It took her mind off her bruises and the taste of that horrible tea that Heath had made her drink. She wondered how he was faring; he’d taken the brunt of the fall. She’d check on him after this senel.
    Provided she didn’t challenge Elois first.
    The sight of Marcus, cloaked and hooded, standing against the back wall, helped. If he could control his temper, she could keep hers.
    The Warlord had called senel for all of the warriors that had remained in Water’s Fall and had claimed the throne room, the only room that would hold them all, for that purpose. And almost all had decided to attend, to hear his truths. The room was overflowing, and unlike a tent, these walls did not roll up to allow light and air.
    But if the air was thick, the tension was thicker. Elois continued to speak. “We were promised much, War—” Elois paused, then continued. “Keir of the Cat.”
    That caused a stir, but Keir didn’t react.
    “We honored our pledge to remain here through the snows, to secure this city for you. We stayed when the rest of the army went with you to the Plains. We stayed, even when the winds brought word that the army had suffered losses from illness, and that Epor and Isdra had died. A bonded pair, in your service, Keir. Still, we