Warsworn

army, and additional duties as well. Simus had been Keir's Second, Iften his Third. Their ranks were determined through a series of combats, not necessarily by the Warlord's choice alone.
    I glanced to the left of Keir's 'seat', where Simus would normally reign. I missed Simus. His laugh, his smile, his eyes gleaming in his dark face, his overwhelming confidence. As Keir's Second and as his friend, he'd sat at Keir's left hand in senels before this. But Simus had remained behind in Water's Fall with half of Keir's forces to secure and protect the City, and be Keir's voice in Council. I'd had one letter from Othur, the Warden I'd left in my place, which indicated that things were going well. Beneath Simus's smile and good humor was a man of honor and wisdom. I felt the lack of his presence and voice.
    I looked back at the others milling about. I was familiar with a few of the warleaders already. I'd met Sal when she'd come to me for advice on equipping the army and dealing with the Xyian merchants and traders. A stocky woman, with weathered skin and grey hair turned white by the sun, she loved to bargain for supplies. Yers, an average-sized man with brown hair and a crooked nose, had been Gils's Warleader, and had been involved when
    Gils had surprised everyone with his intentions of becoming my apprentice. Iften made himself known by being rude and obnoxious, something he was skilled at. He'd shown early on that he despised me and all things Xyian, and didn't hesitate to voice his opposition to Keir at every opportunity.
    I smiled to see Joden enter the area, and he smiled back. Joden was not a warleader, but was acknowledged as the potential Singer that he was.
    The others I was less sure about.
    "Isdra?"
    "Warprize?" Isdra took a step forward and knelt by my side.
    "Can I ask you about the warleaders, without bells?"
    She chuckled, keeping her voice low. "Yes, Warprize. You know Yers, and?"
    "Iften." We exchanged wry glances. "Sal, I've met before. She takes care of supplies for the army."
    Isdra nodded. "Aret is standing with Iften." She was referring to a tall, thin woman with short, curly brown hair. "She's in charge of the horses, and the herds when in camp, seeing to their well-being. Yers has the training and discipline of young warriors. Iften is now Second, so the senior warriors are also in Yers's care."
    Iften had that position because Simus of the Hawk had remained in Water's Fall. Isdra continued. "Wesren is the warleader in charge of encampments, Ortis, the large man at the back, is charged with the scouts."
    Wesren was a short, thick man with thick black hair and beard. Ortis was a huge, lumbering hulk with a shaved head. He made Wesren look like a boy.
    "Uzaina and Tsor are warleaders in charge of the army when on the march. Uzaina takes the lead, Tsor works the rear."
    I looked over, studying them. Tsor had skin the color of kavage with milk in it, and short black hair with traces of grey at the temples. Uzaina caught my eye, for she had her black hair in what looked like hundreds of small braids, each ending in a bead. They brushed her shoulders when she moved her head, making an odd clicking sound. Her skin was the color of dark amber, and the combination was very striking.
    "So each has a duty beyond fighting. Right?" I asked.
    "Yes. Except Seconds, who have the duties as the Warlord assigns. Duties do not change, ranking does. You understand? If Keir were to fall, skies forbid, Iften would lead."
    "Become warlord?"
    "No. That requires the Elders." Isdra made a slight snorting sound, which I interpreted to mean that event was unlikely.
    Marcus approached, and frowned at Isdra.
    Isdra made a face at him, but stood and stepped back, which seemed to appease him. Marcus knelt to fill my cup. "Hisself will be here shortly." I looked him in the eye. "And if it's true rebellion, Marcus?" He shrugged. "It will be as it must." He rose, cutting off the conversation, and moved away. I took a sip of kavage. Why would a village of farmers and their families defy the Warlord? Did they think to use pitchforks and hoes against him? It made no sense.
    But then Xymund had shown me that there was little 'sense' to be had in war.
    * * *
    Keir strode in, signaling me with a hand to remain seated. He accepted kavage from Marcus, nodded to a few of the leaders, and then moved to kneel next to me. He shook his head at the question in my eyes. "I know no more. The scouts are outside, we will hear their report