Warprize

felt like a lifetime. As we entered, my shoulders relaxed, now that we were out from under prying eyes.
    Othur stood in the doorway behind us, and bowed again. “I will inform the King of your arrival. He will join you shortly.”
    Keir held up his hand. “We will delay for a few moments. I will send for Xymund when I am ready.”
    Keir moved further into the room, threw his cloak over one of the chairs, and started to pace. The light of the fire and the lamps played over his face, making his blue eyes dark and forbidding.
    “Who were they?” he asked.
    “Not one of us.” Prest answered firmly.
    “How do you know that?” I asked.
    Prest shrugged. “They missed.”
    “He’s right.” Keir continued his prowl. “Had one of my people thrown the lance, you would have been hit.”
    “The fletching was Iften’s.” Rafe’s voice was soft.
    “Iften’s?” I stared at Keir.
    “Full-tipped.” Prest added.
    “What does that mean?” I asked, frustrated by the cryptic comments. Keir sighed. “The tip was whole when the lance was thrown. Lance tips are meant to break when they hit. A scavenged lance wouldn’t be whole.”
    “It’s possible that one wouldn’t break.” My argument sounded weak, even in my ears.
    “Unlikely,” Prest observed.
    “Horses get captured with quivers full.” He shrugged. “But the fletching is Iften’s and he’s not lost a horse that I know of.” Rafe paused, not looking at anyone in particular. “And Iften has been in the city.”
    I put my hand over my mouth. “Remn said that Iften met with Xymund alone.” Or had he? I tried to remember what he’d said, but it slipped away from me.
    Keir interrupted my thoughts, and I focused on him. “Yet those scum were paid well. That speaks of Xyians.”
    “My people would not risk the peace.” I responded firmly. “One of your people could have hired them just as easily.”
    Keir shook his head. “My people are just learning about coinage and money. More like it was a Xyian.”
    He hesitated. “Or a Xyian King.”
    I glared at him. “Xymund has sworn. He will not risk his crown or break his word.”
    “Risk to his head, I believe,” Keir retorted. “I’m not so certain of his oath.” Keir moved closer to me. “
    Not certain that he understands that if you die there is no peace.”
    “And if you die, Warlord?” I asked softly. “Would the peace hold? You were attacked as well, they even doubled up on you.” The memory flashed before my eyes, and suddenly my stomach dropped. I had a flash of vision, of a wounded and dying Keir. Dearest Goddess. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.
    A warm hand on my shoulder pressed me into one of the chairs by the fireplace. I opened my eyes to find Keir kneeling in front of me. “I am sorry,” I said.
    “Don’t be. You did well.” Then that little-boy-mischievous look sparkled in his eyes. “For a healer.”
    Prest and Rafe snorted, a kind of nervous chuckle. I sat up straighter and tried to appear offended. “If you think that Xy-mund is behind this, confront him. Ask him—”
    “No.” Keir grew serious. “His actions tell me more than words. Say nothing about the attack to anyone. Let our enemy speculate as to what occurred.” Prest and Rafe nodded. I did as well, all too willing to drop the subject. Keir stood, and gestured Rafe to the door.
    When the door to the antechamber opened Xymund entered, followed by Lord Marshall Warren and the members of the Council. I moved to stand, but Keir’s hand on my shoulder pressed me down. I looked up, puzzled, but Keir’s gaze fixed on Xymund.
    Xymund bowed his head to Keir. “Warlord.”
    “Xymund.” Keir’s voice sounded cold to my ears.
    There wasn’t time for more, for Othur had moved to the large double-doors. “Honored Lords, the Herald is ready to commence the ceremony. Please take your places.” Keir moved to the doors as well, and everyone in the room started to adjust their position for the entrance into the throne room. I rose from the chair unsure of where to stand. As I did, my cloak fell open, and there were harsh intakes of breath around the room. Xymund, standing behind Keir, turned his head. His eyes widened as he took in the scarlet on both the dress and my cheeks. While his face remained impassive, his eyes danced. Determined to retain some dignity, I spotted Prest and Rafe toward the back and moved in their direction.
    “Warprize.” Keir’s voice cut through the sounds in the room.
    I turned.