Warlord

me help her." Amyu inclined her head, and left me to my kavage.
    "Welcome to my tent, Xylara, Daughter of Xy. I am Liam of the Deer. May I offer you kavage?" I stepped further into his tent, taking a moment to let my eyes adjust before speaking. The tent was warmed with two braziers, their coals glowing softly in the darkness. "It seems only fair to warn you that Keir of the Cat is my chosen Warlord. You waste your time courting me." A soft chuckle came from the shadows. "Well, that is fair enough. I should tell you that I've no real interest in courting you." Out of the darkness stepped a tall man, with long blond hair, silver mixed with the gold. His eyes were hazel, his smile warm. But it was the piercings of his left ear that reassured me even more. Liam of the Deer was bonded. I sighed with relief as he continued to speak.
    "But I am interested in Keir, and his people, and his ideas. If we talk, you and I, and exchange knowledge, how can that be a waste?" Liam gestured to a platform full of pillows, much like the arrangement I'd seen in Simus's tent. "Let us eat and talk in comfort." I sat on one of the fattest pillows, and Liam reclined on some others. He clapped his hands, and warriors entered with kavage, and bowls of gurt.
    "We had the good fortune to hunt ehat on our way to the Heart," Liam offered. "Oh, not four, as I have heard Keir did, but enough that I can offer you roast ehat for our meal." He leaned back with his mug.
    "Would you tell me of that hunt?"
    Happily, I recounted the details and told him of what I'd seen. He grunted when I spoke of Iften missing his throw, but made no other comment. When I mentioned kissing Keir, even though he reeked of the musk, Liam laughed. "A strong bond, indeed, Xylara."
    "Please call me 'Lara'," I asked. "Xylara is my formal name, but I prefer 'Lara'."
    "You honor me." Liam put his kavage down. "Is it true, Lara, that you can raise the dead?"
    "No." I shook my head and glared at him. "Is this because of what happened with the baby?"
    "The word of the winds is that you brought the babe back from the snows," Liam explained. "That you did that because the babe was Xyian, while all the other dead were of the Plains." The kavage in my stomach turned sour in an instant. I sat there horrified, and stared at him.
    "I would not offend, Lara. But you need to know what is said."
    "I would never—" My voice cracked as I choked on my words. "If I had the power, Liam, I'd use it for the good of both our peoples. The oaths that I have taken as a healer demand that. But I do not," my voice cracked at the very idea. " I cannot raise the dead." Liam stared at me intently. "The babe—"
    "That the babe revived was the blessing of the Goddess, or the elements." I put my mug down and ran my fingers through my hair. "I was tired, we were all exhausted, Liam. I'm not even sure that the babe had really stopped breathing." I shrugged. "But I make no claim to be so powerful."
    "I believe you, Lara." Liam nodded. "So, among your people, healing is freely offered? To any?" Grateful for the change of topic, I started to explain our ways. Liam listened intently, asking a few questions, but he clearly was having problems understanding some of the Xyian concepts. Money being one of the them.
    "What would be the purpose?" he asked. "I cannot eat your 'coin', cannot wear it, or use it to hunt food. So why would I take 'coins' in exchange for anything? Far better to trade and barter, than to 'pay'." I was trying to make an argument, when there was a cough outside. "Ah, the meat is ready." Liam sat up straighter on his pillow. "And all this talk has my stomach growling." I laughed, as the warriors approached with meat and flat bread. There were grains, too, but I recognized the small red flakes in their midst, and took careful bites.
    We talked as we ate, and I realized that I was enjoying myself. Liam had seen warriors playing chess, and started to pepper me with questions about the rules. As the dishes were removed, nothing would satisfy him but that we play a game. "I know your memory is not like ours," he spoke eagerly as he pulled a wooden box out from under the platform. "So I bartered for this." He pulled out the first piece with a flourish and pressed it into my hand. I studied it as he set the rest out on the board. The carving was amazing. It was a fierce warrior of the Plains on a galloping horse, poised to fling a lance at his opponent. But it was plain wood, with no color distinction.