Warcry

quick as you can,” he commanded.
    Both Tec and Dustin disappeared from view.
    “Very well, my lady.” Heath knelt back down, using a scrap of cloth from her dress to clean his blades before sheathing them. “If you won’t let me carry you, let’s see if we can get you on your feet. We’ll support each other.”
    “That will do.” Atira took a deep breath and reached out to him with her good hand. It took some doing, but she was on her feet when Dustin returned to hand Heath a cloak, his eyes politely averted.
    “We’ll see to this, Captain,” Dustin said, gesturing to Lanfer’s body.
    Atira groaned as the weight of the cloak settled on her shoulders. Heath pulled her good arm over his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around her waist as they started down. “Stupid stairs,” Atira gasped. “You city-dwellers and your love of up .”
    Heath decided that silence was really the only answer that was safe.
    They had rounded the first turn when the stairwell filled with golden light that passed through and left them blinking.
    “What was that?” Heath asked.
    “I don’t know,” Atira sighed as she took the next step. “And right now, I really don’t care.”
    They’d reached the door of the Queen’s chamber when a woman’s cry rang out.
    Heath looked at Atira, who nodded in answer to his unasked question. “The Warprize’s time is upon her.”

CHAPTER 32
     
    HEATH HAD HIS ARM AROUND ATIRA’S HIPS, SUPPORTING her every slow step. He was relieved to see Detros at the door of the Queen’s chambers. “Just in time, Captain,” Detros said as they walked up to the chamber doors. His eyes narrowed as he took in their condition. “Lanfer?”
    “Dead.” Heath stopped and held Atira tight as two women went past, carrying buckets of water.
    Detros nodded in satisfaction. “Eln’s inside. Crazy Firelanders—begging your pardon, miss—are washing everything. Archbishop and the witnessing lords are already in.”
    “You’ll seal the doors?” Heath asked. There was a bunch of guards standing about and runner lads sitting farther down the hallway, ready to take messages.
    “Aye, we’re ready.” Detros heaved a sigh. “Been a damn hard day, but we’ll cope.”
    “Aye to that,” Atira grumbled.
    Heath tightened his grip on her hip, and they entered the room. It was good to know that Detros had things under control.
    The new Archbishop was standing by the door with his two acolytes beside him. Iain was trembling, and Heath knew the young man was probably exhausted. But the grim look on his face told Heath that Iain was determined to do his duty.
    That grim look turned to concern as he took in their condition. “Eln is in with the Queen,” Iain said as he shut the door behind them. “Perhaps we should send for another healer before I seal the doors.”
    “No,” Heath said.
    “We look worse than we are,” Atira groaned.
    “I am not sure that is possible,” Iain replied, but he threaded a golden chain through the bolt and pressed a soft lump of lead to both ends. One of the acolytes handed him a crimper to use, squeezing the Archbishop’s seal into the soft metal. Heath thought the lad seemed pale; he sympathized as Lara cried out from her chamber.
    The hearth was filled with fire and pots of water. Marcus was busily working, providing kavage and tea to all. The room was filled with all of Lara’s bodyguards and the witnessing lords.
    “Let us all witness the sealing of the doors,” Iain announced, his voice wavering a bit. “The birth of the heir can now go forward.”
    “As if he has anything to say about it,” Atira mumbled.
    Heath snorted, then flinched as Lara cried out again.
    “The healer’s in there with them.” Marcus scowled at him. “Take her in there.”
    Heath girded up his loins and did just that.

    ATIRA WISHED SHE COULD SCREAM WITH LARA.
    Lara had just taken to her bed when they pushed their way through the bedchamber door. She seemed to be fighting off the efforts by Anna and her women to put her in bedclothes. “A sheet will be enough,” Lara growled. She was sweating, her curls plastered to her head.
    Keir reached over, grabbed up the nightgown, and over the cries of the women, opened the heavy wooden shutters and threw it out the window.
    Eln was at the foot of the bed, letting Amyu pour water over his hands. He nodded in approval of Keir’s action. “That takes care of that, I think.”
    “Men in the birthing chamber,” Anna scolded as she