Warcry

there any more bread?”

CHAPTER 21
     
    HEATH WAS BRAVE, BUT NOT BRAVE ENOUGH TO get between those two. Liam and Marcus continued yelling, their faces red with rage. Marcus’s burned skin had an angry, mottled look to it that Heath had never seen. But then he’d never seen Marcus so out of control before. So far, neither one had reached for his weapons. But if Marcus pulled his daggers, this was going to . . .
    The Xyians in the hall had no idea what was being said. Heath doubted that any had bothered to learn the language of the Plains. Heath could well imagine the explosion if everyone realized the two men were lovers. Instead, the crowd was just confused and curious. Marcus was spitting in his rage; Liam was just as furious. Someone needed to step in, but it needed to be someone of the Plains.
    Keir shifted in his seat, about to take action, when Lara sat straight up with a gasp, gripping the armrests of her chair.
    “Lara?” Keir’s focus shifted instantly. Marcus cut off in mid-curse, jerking his head in her direction.
    “I don’t know.” Lara drew a deep breath as she pressed a hand to her belly. “But I think . . .”
    Eln stood. “My Queen?”
    “Yes,” Lara said, huffing out her breath with a smile. “I think it would be best if I retire. Eln, if you would attend me?” She reached for Keir’s hand. “Please, everyone, do not let this disturb the feast. Continue with the celebration.”
    Everyone rose to their feet as Keir and Marcus helped Lara from the room.

    ATIRA TOOK A BREATH OF SWEET AIR AS SHE stepped through the main doors of the castle. The cool night air felt good after the over-warm hall. The courtyard was lit with torches, with guards at the gate and on the walls.
    Heath was just behind, Liam at his side. Behind him was his escort of warriors. “It’s no trouble to show you the way,” Heath said. “The gardens are large, with plenty of room. You and your warriors should be comfortable there. If there is any problem, send word to me, and I’ll see to it.”
    “You are in charge of this?” Liam gestured around at the castle guards.
    “I am,” Heath replied.
    “Heath of Xy, Atira of the Bear, I would make you known to my Second, Parshmat of the Bat, as well as Bishon of the Snake and Rish of the Bear.” Liam gestured to each in turn.
    “Atira is known to me,” Rish said. “We fought under the Warlord Shara.”
    “We did, Rish.” Atira gave him a fond smile.
    “Our thanks,” Parshmat said. “Better than stone skies over our heads.”
    “It takes some getting used to, that is certain,” Atira said as Heath guided them toward the garden path. The night grew darker as they walked deeper into the gardens.
    “How can he be so stubborn?” Liam asked, apparently to the night sky. “He is my bonded, my heart’s flame, and for him to stand there and deny me . . . deny us . . .”
    The pain in his voice seemed amplified by the darkness around them. Atira looked up at Liam and the pain etched into his face. “He is in pain as well,” she blurted out.
    Liam frowned. “How do you—?”
    Heath turned slightly, and she knew full well he was listening. “He told me bonding was precious.”
    Liam stopped dead. “He spoke to you about me?”
    They all stopped on the path, the sounds of the courtyard faint on the breeze. Atira hesitated, uncomfortably aware of Heath’s scrutiny. “We were speaking of bonding. I said that bonding was a form of control, and he said I was wrong. That bonding is a precious thing. It was not said under the bells,” she continued. “It was a moment of . . . confiding.” Atira winced at the weakness of her own words.
    Heath’s face was concealed in the shadows. She couldn’t see his eyes. But his jaw was squared and stiff.
    Liam took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Marcus is not one for confiding,” he said wryly. “But I thank you. This is the first time I thought I had a chance to convince the old ehat.” Liam nodded to himself. “If I have to, I will return to the old ways.”
    “Old ways?” Heath asked.
    The warriors all looked at one another, clearly as uncomfortable as Atira with those words.
    “The old ways are the ways practiced long ago, when we warred tribe to tribe,” Atira said. “In those days, there were raids between the tribes. Raids for breeding purposes.”
    “Kidnapping?” Heath asked.
    Atira shrugged and nodded.
    “What else would you have me do?” Liam asked. “Stubborn old ehat.”
    Heath gave