Warcry

the Archbishop said.
    Othur took a deep breath. “We do, Devoted One, who stand in the place of Xylara’s parents. We consent to the marriage of Xylara and Keir before the Sun God and these witnesses.” Othur looked at Anna, and they spoke together, “By our own free will and hand.”
    “So it has been said and declared.” The Archbishop’s voice shook slightly. “Are the witnesses satisfied?”
    Othur held his breath.
    “We are,” was the scattered response of the crowd, but one man stood forth to stand in the center of the aisle.
    “No,” Lord Durst said.

CHAPTER 28
     
    THE SILENCE SEEMED ENDLESS AS KEIR TURNED ON his heel to face Durst. The Warlord crossed his arms over his chest. “You do not hold my token, Durst of Xy.”
    Heath tensed, ready, and started watching the crowd for movement.
    Durst snarled at Keir and limped toward the dais. “I spit on your token, Firelander. I will not consent to this abomination. I will not permit that whore—” Durst pointed at Lara. “You and your whore to raise the heir to the throne of Xy.”
    The reaction of the crowd was what Heath expected. Some were looking around confused; others—the ones with armor and weapons—had determined looks. The Plains warriors all just looked angry. Those warriors had their hands on their hilts, looking about, waiting to see who would be friend or foe.
    The Herald was still standing in the open doorway, his staff at the ready, with a faint hint of outrage in his eyes.
    “You do not hold my token.” Keir spoke clearly, his voice calm and level. “I will take offense, Lord Durst.”
    “And silence my voice with violence, I suppose, as you did before.” Durst was shaking with anger.
    “I silenced your insult to my Warprize.” Keir’s voice didn’t change, but Heath heard the regret. “I acted as I would with one of the Plains, without thought. I have learned of your ways now. Apparently you have not learned ours.”
    There was a stir through the crowd, and Heath smiled grimly. They’d thought to goad Keir into rash action, most likely, and Keir was not cooperating. He just stood, his arms crossed, and waited.
    “Your consent to our marriage is not necessary, Lord Durst.” Lara’s expression was pleasant enough, but her voice had an edge to it. “If you do not wish to witness this ceremony, you are free to leave.”
    “I am not alone, woman. There are those who stand with me.” Lord Durst gestured, and some of the Xyian men started to move toward the aisle.
    Heath watched with narrowed eyes. It was about what he expected, in terms of numbers.
    Of course, Lanfer was in front, armored and armed, with a smug look on his face.
    Durst glanced back in satisfaction. “Renounce your Firelander paramour, Xylara, and send him back to the Plains. You are of the Blood, and—”
    “You are a traitor, Durst,” Lara cried out, trying to step forward as if to confront the man. But Atira placed her foot firmly on the train, and that pulled Lara up short. “You are a traitor to your sworn and consecrated Queen, as are any who join with you.”
    “Durst,” the Archbishop started, but Durst cut him off.
    “You fat, pompous bastard, you’re the cause of this. You would go forward with the heathen, knowing—”
    Browdus leaned forward, but the Archbishop shifted away from him. “For the best interest of Xy,” he said. “New trade routes mean—”
    “Greed,” Durst spat. “You forsake the interests of Xy for the sake of your purse. Our purity demands we reject these people and their ways. Our war dead—their mounds still fresh outside these walls—cry out for vengeance. Who will heal those wounds?”
    “I will,” Lara said.
    She caught the attention of the entire room. “With this wedding.” She placed her hand on her belly. “With this child. We will go forth from our past, learn from our mistakes, and weave our peoples together. A peace, Durst. A true peace for Xyian and Plains folk alike.” Lara looked at Keir and reached out for him.
    Keir stepped toward her and took her hand in his, looking down at her with a smile.
    “Devoted One,” Lara said. “If you would . . .”
    “No. Never. Not while I breathe,” Durst announced.
    “Durst, see reason.” Lord Korvis spoke up, his lady at his side. “You are not the only one to have lost loved ones in the war. The Queen has the right of it. We must put aside—”
    “Fool!” Durst didn’t bother to turn. “I can see there is only one way. If my words