Warcry

confident. “I, Keir of the Cat, Warrior of the Plains, Overlord of Xy, do kneel before you in humble petition and ask permission to seek the hand of Xylara, Daughter of Xy in holy matrimony, in the traditions and under the laws of Xy. Will you say me aye?”
    The gasps from around the room were loud as people craned to see what was happening.
    “Keir of the Cat, Warrior of the Plains, Overlord of Xy.” Othur had to clear his throat before he could proceed. “Answer me this. Xylara is a true Daughter of Xy, the daughter of Xyron. She is not a daughter of our blood, but she is the daughter of our hearts. Would you cleave to her and her alone, forsaking all others, swearing your oath before the Sun God of Xy?”
    “I would,” Keir said. “For all my days and beyond.”
    Othur blinked to clear his eyes and then turned to his ladywife. Anna was smiling and weeping, tears running down her face. “How say you, my lady?”
    Anna nodded with a smile, her chins jiggling, unable to speak.
    Othur faced the room and boomed out his answer. “We grant your petition, Keir of the Cat, and offer our blessings on you and Xylara. May the Sun God and the Lady of the Moon and Stars bless your union, your lives, and your children.”
    Keir stood, sheathed his sword, and turned to face the high table. Marcus and Amyu were helping Lara to rise. Othur caught his breath at the happiness that shone in her face.
    “Xylara, Daughter of Xy, Queen, Warprize, and Master Healer,” Keir began, once again going to one knee. He placed one hand on his chest and bowed his head.
    Lara’s smile grew even brighter, and tears formed in her eyes.
    “I, Keir of the Cat, Overlord of Xy and Warrior of the Plains, kneel before you with a humble heart, and ask for your hand in marriage according to the traditions and laws of Xy.” Keir raised his head. “I offer you my hand, my heart, and my sword for all of our lives and beyond.”
    “I will marry thee, Keir of the Cat, Overlord of Xy, and Warlord of the Plains.” Lara’s voice was clear. “I will accept your offer, and in return, I offer my hand, my heart, and my skills for all our lives and beyond.”
    With one smooth movement, Keir once again leapt over the table to stand at Lara’s side. She offered her hands, and he kissed them both before kissing her full on the mouth.
    A single cheer rose from the back of the room, to be joined with other voices. Othur scanned the faces, and the silent ones were no surprise. Except old Lord Sarrensan. Othur was certain that there was some softening in the old badger’s face. The man looked at his own wife and started cheering.
    Well. Othur smiled and raised his voice in a cheer, as well, sharing a happy look with Anna. A bright day, this. A bright day, indeed. Nothing like a wedding to bring out the best in people.
    And the worst, come to think on it.
    As smooth as if they’d practiced, Lara and Keir broke their kiss and turned to face the Archbishop as the cheering stopped. “Devoted One,” Lara said sweetly. “Would you conduct the ceremony tomorrow at sunset, as tradition requires?”

    HEATH LEANED FORWARD SLIGHTLY, LOOKING down at the Archbishop.
    The man was visibly pulling himself together, thinking quickly. “Your Majesty, I mean no offense . . .” he said. Browdus was standing just behind him, readjusting the man’s robes and whispering in his ear. The Archbishop took a deep breath and straightened. “But . . . what does a Firelander know of our faith? Does the Overlord understand the vows being required of him?”
    “The vows are almost the same to the words my bonded and I have already exchanged,” Keir said. “I have no reservations,” he continued. “I will take these vows in order to protect my wife.” Keir paused and narrowed his eyes. His voice was deeper. Intense. “And the child she bears.”
    Heath nodded, appreciating the message and its delivery.
    So did everyone in the hall. The slight whisperings faded away as they took in the Warlord’s message.
    “I . . .” the Archbishop began, but then he seemed to sag as he stared at Keir. Browdus leaned closer, his whispers even more urgent.
    The Archbishop glanced once more around the hall, took a breath, and waved Browdus silent. “Well, then, of course, Your Majesty. Tomorrow at sunset.”
    Another cheer rose, louder than the first, echoing off the walls. Lara and Keir returned to their seats and signaled for the meal to begin.
    The Archbishop plopped back into his