Warlord

has been lost can be regained'?"
    "The Council agreed that I can enter the combats again, in the spring, and fight for warlord status," Keir said quietly. "A named warlord has only to defeat any that offer direct challenge. But I would have to fight my way through the tiers to win the status again." He flashed me a look. "Not an easy thing. Lara."
    "You are a Warlord of the Plains, Keir of the Cat," I told him. "To me, to your warriors, to the People of Xy. What care I for the word of a Council of stupid bracnects?"
    He gave me a wry look.
    I made no further comment as he worked on my hands, getting them as clean as he could. I felt his need to care for me, as I needed to care for him.
    Finally, when it was done to his satisfaction, he spread the salve over my hands, working it in carefully. I smiled at him when he stoppered the jar. "Another day or two, and they will be fine."
    "So you say," Keir responded. He tore one of the drying cloths into strips, and wrapped my palms again.
    "So I know." I sat back and flexed my fingers. Keir gathered up my things, and placed them back in the satchel, heedless of the order. There was a soft cough outside, and Marcus entered with a small wooden box. He said nothing, merely handed it to Keir, snatching up the used drying cloth on his way out.
    "Keir." I patted the bed next to me.
    He hesitated, then nodded and stood, to remove his swords and daggers, and placed them on the bed, well within reach. When that was done, he lowered himself to the edge of the bed, next to me. I turned, settled myself so that I faced him. Carefully I pulled the tray around so I could reach it easily.
    "Keir, you did what had to be done. At Wellspring. At the Council. My hands are fine, and there's no sign that they'll sour."
    "I never thought they'd draw blades in a senel. When Antas called for your death—" Keir shuddered. He opened the box in his hands, and I caught the faint scent of clove oil. Keir picked a cloth out of the box, reached for one of his swords, and started to clean it.
    I took up a bowl of stew, dipped some of the bread in and started eating.
    "They'd stop at nothing to prevent your confirmation." Keir scowled at his blade. "Honor and truth were abandoned in an instant when they thought they would lose."
    I said nothing, merely ate, and listened.
    "I should take you away from here. Back to Xy, where you would be safe and protected." I reached for more bread. "Would I?" I dipped some bread in the rich broth and held it out to Keir. He opened his mouth, and I fed him the piece. "Would it really be safer, Keir?" He chewed, looking at me though dark lashes. "We still don't know who attacked you on the journey to the Heart."
    "I am safest here, within your protection, My Warlord." I took up another piece of the flat bread, scooped up some of the meat, and offered it to him. Keir obediently opened his mouth and took it. "You yourself told me that you were trying to bring change to your people, and change is rarely bloodless." I held out the bowl. "Hold this, would you?"
    Keir swallowed and took the bowl from my hand, which let me reach for kavage. He reached for more bread as he spoke. "When word came that you and Keekai had been attacked, I feared the worst." He dug into the stew. "Simus arrived almost with Keekai's messenger. Atira and Heath were with him." I handed him the mug of kavage, and he took a long drink. "What is the story behind Heath's eye?" I asked.
    Keir handed me back the mug. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his eyes danced. "Your Xyian friend has odd ideas. He leaped between Atira and her opponent, apparently to 'protect' her, or so he said." Keir shook his head. "As if that warrior needed protecting. He's lucky all she did was hit him for that insult."
    I chuckled, taking his mug and pressing more bread into his hand. "Yet you leap to my defense fast enough."
    Keir gave me a wry smile. "Your pardon, but you are not a warrior, Lara."
    "True." I smiled as he started in on the stew. I picked up the other bowl of stew.
    "Rafe and Prest told me what you did at the birthing." Keir looked at me oddly. "Is it true, you cut her open and pulled out the babes? And they all lived?"
    "So far as I know, they live. Maybe now I can check on her openly." I smiled in quiet satisfaction as Keir mopped up the last of his stew. "I felt so much better that Rafe and Prest were there. I was reassured, knowing that they were watching over me, even from a distance."
    Keir nodded, chewing.