Warlord

Yers raised his in response, and silence covered the crowd. Then they dropped their arms together.
    At the signal, both groups leaped forward, charging, swords high, yelling blood-curdling war cries. They came together with a clash, and I would have jumped to my feet had Marcus not put his hand on my shoulder. "Watch."
    There was a wild burst of drumming and only then could I see a pattern to the confusion. Each warrior faced another, exchanging blows with their swords, defending themselves with their shields. It was a fight that was also a dance. I relaxed slightly, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of Keir and Yers trading blows.
    For all that it was a dance, it was clear that the warriors were giving it everything they had, from the sounds of grunts and the crack of wooden swords against shields. For all that it was a pattern, it held a fierce wildness that I'd not seen before. Each pair moved about the other, striking wherever they could, the cracks of wood on wood adding to the beat of the drums. Keir was intent on his dance, his body moving with all the power and grace he was capable of.
    My mouth went dry at the sight.
    A weapon cracked and splintered, and a warrior threw herself down on the ground to lie 'dead'. I feared an injury for a brief moment, until it was clear that she'd been taken out of the dance by the loss of her weapon. Her opponent turned to engage another, even as another warrior dropped. My heart pounded with the drums as warriors dropped 'dead' on the field, the dancers now forced to avoid their bodies even as they continued their fight. Keir felled Yers, and then moved to another warrior with the barest of pauses. As I watched him move, I realized that he'd been holding back with me, holding back the wildness within, probably to protect me. A flash of physical heat went through my body as my heart beat faster still. I wanted that wildness, wanted to provoke that power within him. At last, with a final blow, Keir was left standing among the 'dead'.
    The drums beat once more, then cheers rose, as did the 'dead', to congratulate the dancers. They laughed and embraced each other in celebration of the dance. One woman warrior hugged Keir, and an ugly flash of jealousy pierced my soul. These people knew nothing of marriage, and while we'd pledged ourselves to each other, that woman was strong and had breasts the size of—
    Keir gave her the briefest of embraces, and then turned to look at the platform, searching for me. His eyes found mine, and he grinned, his teeth flashing. He strode through the crowd of dancers, headed for me. Keir seemed to glow, the black of the leathers contrasted by the bronze of his skin. But as much as he glowed, his eyes gleamed even brighter. They were like sparks, flaring with joy and love. I couldn't help myself. I left the platform and ran to meet him. His smile lit his face, and he swept me up, lifting me high by the hips, and spinning us in a circle.
    I laughed, all my fears washed away by the look in his eyes.
    He set me on my feet, and kissed me hard, his hands slipping down my back to press my hips against his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss, greedy for his mouth. It was only a lack of air that forced us apart. Well, that and Keekai calling out to us, "Keir, you promised to teach me chess." Keir's eyes never left mine. "With all due respect, Elder, ask Marcus." Keir called over his shoulder, sweeping me up into his arms, "I've promised this night to my Warprize." Laughter rose around us, and I laughed as well, even as I blushed. Keir strode toward our tent. Keekai called something out, but we ignored her, focused only on each other.
    Once in the privacy of the tent, Keir gentled, setting me softly on my feet. But I'd have none of that, attacking his leathers, trying to wrest them from his warm, sweaty body. But the material clung, and I had to tug to peel the leather off his arms. Keir chuckled, letting me have my way, but offering no help. I growled, and finally stepped back in frustration, and huffed out a breath. Keir arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, although his laughter was there in his eyes. He made no move to disrobe.
    Two could play that game.
    I moved closer, close enough that my breath tickled the skin of his throat. A pulse worked there, throbbing under the skin.
    He didn't move.
    I pressed my hand over Keir's groin, and leaned forward to lick the pulse point. Holding still, I counted his breaths. One