Warlord

 

     
     

     
    I was terrified.
    I shifted my sweaty grip on the handle of my sword, and watched my attacker's eyes. "Watch their eyes," they'd told me. "The eyes will tell you their next move."
    I stared intently at him, but his eyes told me nothing. My left arm was trembling from the weight of my shield. "Look over the rim," they'd told me. "Look over the rim, watch his eyes and react to hi—" He came at me in an instant, rushing right for me. I managed to take his first blow on my shield and tried to stab at him with my blade, but my helmet shifted into my eyes and—
    THWACK.
    My arm went numb, and I cried out at the pain. My sword tumbled to the ground. Rafe stood in front of me, horrified, staring at my arm.
    "That's going to bruise," Prest commented dryly.
    Rafe groaned, looking up at the skies as if for help. "The Warlord will gut me where I stand." He glared at me. "Warprize, you were supposed to block the blow!"
    "I tried!" I dropped my wooden shield, and rubbed my arm. "I watched your eyes and I kept the shield up, but—"
    "Too slow. She doesn't have the speed," Ander offered.
    "The shield is too heavy," Yveni added. "She doesn't have the strength she needs."
    "Herself doesn't have the sense the elements gave a goose."
    We all turned to see Marcus riding up to our group, glaring from under his cloak. "What's all this now?" My guards all started talking at once. I sighed, took off my helmet and shook out my braid, letting the breeze reach my damp head. Trying to be a warrior-princess is uncomfortable and sweaty. Marcus and my four guards were arguing at the top of their lungs, Marcus covered in his cloak lest the skies be offended by his scars. He'd been injured in a battle years ago, his left ear and eye burned away. Prest, with skin of light brown and long black braids, towered over Marcus. He stood silent, as usual, his arms crossed over his chest.
    Rafe, his skin even paler than normal was gesturing, trying to explain. His hair was dark against his fair skin, and his brown eyes were filled with frustration.
    Ander was gesturing as well, talking at the same time. The sun gleamed on his bald head, and his thick bushy white eyebrows danced over his hazel eyes. Yveni stood as silently as Prest, tall and thin, her skin as black as any I'd seen among the Firelander. But she'd a smile hovering on her lips. She and Ander had replaced Epor and Isdra, who had died at Wellspring.
    I heaved a sigh, and looked off in the distance.
    We'd left the small village of Wellspring ten days ago, leaving behind our dead, both Xyian and Firelander. We'd resumed our trek to the land of the Firelander, the Plains of Keir's people. Another few days ride and I would get my first glimpse of that fabled place which lay beyond the border of the Kingdom of Xy. Another few days ride, and the great valley of Xy would open up onto the wilds of the Plains.
    Another few days ride, and I'd be where I never dreamed of going.
    I glanced over to where the army of the Firelander moved past us, in their long slow march to their homeland. Keir had left half of his force to secure Water's Fall and Xy itself, under the watchful eye of Simus of the Hawk. He'd brought the other half with him, to return to the Plains. It was still an impressive sight as they would past us, all on horseback, an army of fierce warriors, both men and women. Or at least, what was left of Keir's army, after the ravages of the plague we'd suffered outside of Wellspring. We'd left our dead, to be certain, but there were still problems, still conflicts at the heart of the army. Conflicts as a result of an illness sweeping through the ranks of a people who see illness as a curse. Conflicts as a result of the presence of a Warprize in their midst and the changes that I represented to them. Conflicts that had been set aside for the rest of this journey, to be dealt with before the Council of Elders when we reached the Heart of the Plains.
    We could have reached it sooner, but Keir had held the army to a snail's pace, claiming the need to regain strength in the warriors, to hunt and replenish food supplies.
    In truth, we were dawdling.
    I didn't object. Keir and I had spent the last ten days together, making love at night and dealing with problems during the day. How could I object to spending time with my beloved Warlord?
    The silence behind me made me aware that I was the center of attention. I turned to face an angry Marcus, who had dismounted and was glaring at me with