Warcry

himself as he walked Lara around the room.
    The door opened, and Heath and Atira walked in. Heath took one look at Lara and frowned. “Is the baby—”
    “No,” Lara snapped. “It’s not. It’s fussing and cramping and kicking, but it’s not coming. It’s going to stay within until it’s a year old, from the feel of things.”
    Heath blinked and took a step back, bumping into Atira.
    “We were up most of the night,” Keir explained with a shrug.
    “Perhaps we should consider delaying the Justice,” Othur suggested.
    “No.” Lara shook her head. “No, that needs doing, and soon. Bad enough I’ve put it off this long.”
    “I’d ask you to remember our traditions then,” Othur said. “Monarchs are not supposed to actually use the Sword of Xy to lop off heads during the Justice. That is for your designated executioner.”
    Lara laughed in spite of herself. “I’ll try to remember that, Othur.”
    Keir glanced at the sword. “Could I see the blade? Is there a tradition against that?”
    “Please, my lord,” Othur said, holding out the sheath with a smile. He’d been looking forward to showing off the blade.
    Atira took Keir’s place, assisting Lara as the Warlord took the sword. The tall man drew the weapon, and his head jerked in surprise. “It is stone ?”
    “Aye, it’s crystal,” Othur said. “The only one of its kind.”
    Everyone craned their necks to look as Keir pulled the sword free of its sheath. The blade was as a traditional one, but as clear as water. It had a thin furrow down the center and it glittered in the light. The hilt was bronze and wire-wrapped.
    Keir held it up, admiring it. “It’s no heavier than a regular sword. And well balanced.”
    “Still sharp,” Heath said. “Or at least it was the last time I drew it.” Heath glanced at Othur and grinned. “Got punished for it, too, as I remember.”
    Othur smiled, shaking his head at the memory. “Not sure how either of us survived your childhood, my boy.”
    Keir sheathed the sword and handed it back to Othur. “I’d fear to hit anything with it. That blade would surely shatter.”
    “It dates back to the reign of Xyson,” Othur said. “Legend has it that it was wielded by that ancient king, but that after a particularly fierce battle, he announced that he would never draw the blade again. It has served as the ceremonial blade since that time.”
    Marcus and Amyu entered the room with trays of kavage and food. The scarred man focused his eye on Othur. “Your bonded is looking for you, with a small army in her wake.”
    Othur rolled his eyes. “One would think we were preparing for battle instead of a wedding.”
    Marcus held up the pitcher and a mug, and Lara nodded. “Please, Marcus.”
    “As you like it,” Marcus said. “More milk than kavage.”
    Lara took the mug with a smile of thanks.
    “Marcus,” Keir began, but Marcus turned his back on him.
    Lara chortled into her mug.
    “I will serve you, Warlord,” Amyu said, doing just that. “I have kavage for you. Strong and black.”
    “My thanks,” Keir said with a grumble, staring at Marcus’s back. “Seeing as how no other will serve me.”
    “Seeing as how you have ignored my wishes,” Marcus growled without turning around. “I have served you well and do not deserve—”
    “Liam deserves to have his truths heard, at the very least,” Keir said.
    Marcus stomped off into the bedchamber.
    Keir grimaced as he took the mug from Amyu. Lara left Atira and moved back to Keir’s side, leaning up against him.
    Othur stepped over to Atira. “So, Marcus and the Warlord Liam, they are a couple?”
    “Yes.” Atira nodded, speaking softly. “They are . . . were . . . bonded. But when Marcus was scarred . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip.
    “When his ear burned away, Marcus declared the bonding sundered by the elements.”
    Keir finished for her. “Is that a problem?” His sharp blue eyes focused on Othur even as Lara gave him a worried look.
    “No, Overlord, not for me,” Othur responded easily. “But it will be with the church.”
    “The last thing we need is another issue ,” Lara sighed, starting another circle around the room.
    “One good thing is that, in some ways, their argument and the wedding have taken some of the attention off the Justice,” Othur offered. “It’s still important, but now they’ve other things to think on.”
    “Have they gathered?” Lara asked.
    “There’s time yet,” Othur