Warprize

as Keir ignored me, cleaning his swords on one of the dead. Prest was next to me, wrapping the lance in a cloth he’d pulled from his saddlebags. Hadn’t Atira said something about featherings? Their patterns?
    It was my turn to suck in a breath. “Who made that lance?”
    Prest looked at me, then flicked his eyes to Keir. Rafe came up with the beasts and Keir took the reins. With a nod, he had Rafe stripping the corpses of gold and weapons. With an equally quick movement he motioned for me to mount. “Up, Warprize.”
    “You know who made it.”
    Keir’s eyes rested on mine for a moment, softening slightly. He spoke, but not to answer my question. “
    Mount. We ride for camp.”
    I just stood there, trying to think past the rapid beating of my heart. “The ceremony…”
    Keir drilled me with a glare. “Ceremony be damned.”
    I went to the horse, and clung to the saddle, trying to will strength into my legs. Trembling, I mounted. “
    What does it say if the Warlord runs to camp and hides when attacked by six men?”
    Rafe chimed in. “Six men who weren’t very good.”
    Prest snorted, but kept his eyes on the street.
    Keir didn’t glance at Rafe. “So speaks the man who will be practicing his shield work for the next week.”
    Rafe shut his mouth.
    Keir grabbed his own horse and swung into the saddle. “It says that the Warlord is no fool.” Prest and Rafe mounted up as well.
    “We are not hurt.” I swallowed hard, and fought down my fear. “There are many people gathered for the ceremony. What will they say when the Warlord does not appear?” I moved my horse in the direction of the castle.
    Keir grabbed my reins as I passed, bringing my horse to a halt. “Then I will go alone. Prest and Rafe will escort you to camp.”
    I shook my head. “That leaves you alone and a target. If we all go, then we will have the escort of all the men who are attending on the way back.” I caught his eye. “Besides, my people are expecting me. What rumors will start when I do not appear?”
    Keir stared at me, his jaw working. I could see a small vein pulsing on his neck, but I didn’t drop my gaze. Finally, he took in a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. He released the reins, and turned his horse in the direction of the castle.
    “What about them?” Rafe jerked his head back at the pile of dead.
    “Leave them to rot.”
    The streets remained empty as we rode to the castle. Buildings that had once been friendly and familiar now held deep shadows where danger lurked. My reins grew damp from my sweaty hands, my shoulders tight with every step. Fear gripped me hard.
    Rafe rode beside me, with bow and arrow in hand. His horse responded to knees and feet alone, the reins lay knotted in front of Rafe’s saddle. Prest rode in the same manner, but slightly behind us. They both scanned the surroundings constantly, focused on catching the slightest hint of an attack. Keir rode in front, his swords sheathed, looking outwardly relaxed, but with his head moving from side to side, watching the buildings around us as we passed.
    I cleared my throat to ask about the lance again, but Keir gestured for silence without even looking back at me. I bit my lip as my throat went even drier, and fought the urge to hunch in my saddle. The horses sensed our tension and shifted restlessly under us. But Keir held our pace to a walk. It was only when the castle gates appeared in the distance, ablaze with lights and people, that he urged his horse to a trot. We sped up to follow him the final distance into the main courtyard. People, both Xyian and Firelander, were clustered about, and palace guards moved forward for our horses. The sun still filled the area with light, causing my dress to glow like a bright flame. I tried to look confident and relaxed, but my stomach cramped as the Xyians around me reacted to the dress. Keir, Prest and Rafe were still on guard, keeping an eye on the crowd. Keir swung down first, and gave me a concerned look as he helped me dismount, as if he sensed the strain. Rafe and Prest joined us, and they surrounded me as we entered the castle proper.
    Othur appeared before us. “Warlord.” He bowed. When his head came up, his eyes sought mine, filled with concern. I risked a small smile. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he continued. “Allow me to show you to the antechamber.” He guided us into the same chamber where I had waited for the submission ceremony. It had only been days ago, but it