Warlord

just give what was left of the Council a piece of my mind, while I was at it. I glanced over to see that Greatheart was napping, his head down, his hips cocked to the side. Poor old beast. He'd worn himself out carrying me to safety.
    The more I thought about it, the more I knew this was what I had to do. I was going to go and find my Warlord and claim him for a final time. I'd take him back, to lie on the borders of our lands. I'd lie next to him, eventually. When the time came.
    I started crying again, for what we'd lost. Our time together, the life we would have shared. The children we would have had, watching them grow, and having children of their own. Goddess, Lady of Mercy and Light, please let me be pregnant.
    My stomach rumbled again, and I reached back into the satchel for a few more pieces of gurt. I should conserve my supplies, but my stomach wanted gurt, and it wanted gurt now. I shrugged, and ate, following it with more of the water from the stream. That would have to hold me for a while. I stood, slung my satchel over my shoulder, and brushed myself off. The sun was starting to move. If I was going to do this, I needed to set aside this pain for now. My grief could wait. I had to get moving. I dug back into the satchel and took out some of those bandages to wrap around my hands. Greatheart woke with a snort as I tugged on his mane. It took me a while to get on, without a saddle, but he stood patiently as I pulled myself up.
    Once mounted, I looked around and realized I didn't have a clue how to get back to the Heart. There were no landmarks, no roads. The herds were not moving in any particular pattern that I could make out.
    "Greatheart, take me back," I asked.
    His ears twitched, but he didn't move.
    "Home," I tried.
    Nothing.
    "Back," I tried again. "Return?"
    Greatheart shook his head, and looked like he was falling back asleep.
    "What am I going to do?" I asked.
    The goats' heads all popped up from the grasses around the stream, and they all looked off to the left. Greatheart looked in the same direction, and whinnied, as if in welcome. A shiver went down my spine. Slowly, I turned my head.
    There were four warriors on horseback, on the farthest ridge.
    The hairs rose on the back of my neck. Even at this distance I could make out Epor's smile, and Isdra's braid. Gils's mop of hair, and Keir . . .
    Oh beloved.
    His armor gleamed, the hilts of his two swords jutting over his shoulder. I shuddered, even as my eyes filled with tears. The riders were colorless, somehow, as if the sunlight was going right through them. But clearly, Marcus was not there. That gave me a shred of hope, and that was enough for now.
    Epor and Isdra disappeared behind the ridge. Keir lifted his arm, and gestured for me to follow. He and Gils disappeared, following Epor and Isdra out of sight.
    I took a deep breath, and pointed Greatheart in that direction, and urged him into a trot.
    * * *
    "STOP!"
    Greatheart snorted, and pulled up short. We'd been traveling for some time, trotting along on the path set for us by the dead. I'd only caught a few glimpses of them since we'd started out, always at a distance, al ways when I'd lost my sense of direction. But it had been a good hour since we'd seen them last. Startled by the command, I looked over to the left and blinked in surprise. There was a mounted warrior, scowling fiercely at me, weapon at the ready. Her mount looked angry as well, stomping its foot. I'd have been terrified, except that the warrior wielded a wooden blade, and I had tunics that were older than the warrior. The girl was dressed in leathers, her hair pulled back in a braid. She looked fierce, and determined, but it was hard not to laugh right out loud at the child.
    She was mounted on one of those furry goats.
    I stifled my smile, for I'd no wish to offend. "Greetings, warrior." The girl swelled with pride. "I am Pive of the Snake, Warrior of the Plains, and Guardian of the Gurtle Herds," she proclaimed in a ringing voice twice her size.
    "Greetings, Pive of the Snake." I inclined my head toward her. "I am—"
    "You are an intruder! And my captive!" Pive waved her sword. Greatheart shied a bit, uneasy. I had visions of my shins taking a beating from that blade. "You must come with me, to my camp, and surrender to my warleader."
    "Who is your warleader?"
    "Gilla of the Snake." Pive's face was screwed up with determination. "Surrender or die." I shrugged. "As you wish, warrior."
    Poor little Pive almost fell