Warsworn

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “Heyla!”

  Keir was coming as a gallop. The sight brought a smile to my face, for he was quite a figure, dressed in his black leathers, on his big black warhorse, framed by the setting sun. I threw back the cloak and ran to greet him.

  He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted with one swift move. His black cloak swirled out around him as he caught me in his arms, and hugged me tight claiming my lips in a kiss. He smelled of horse and leather and himself, and I returned the kiss with passion.

  He broke off with a laugh, and swung me up into his arms, striding toward our tent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and nuzzled his ear, certain of his intent and in complete agreement.

  “And what of the food?” Marcus demanded, as Keir marched past the fire to our tent.

  Keir spun on his heel, and faced him. “Marcus! Want to know the best part of being a Warlord?”

  Marcus’s eyebrow rose.

  Keir’s mouth curled up slowly into a smile. “Getting what I want.”

  I laughed as Keir turned back toward the tent.

  A growl came from behind him. “The Warlord’s dinner will be dumped in the dirt if Hisself does not eat it now.”

  Keir paused in mid-step. From his expression, he was torn with rare indecision.

  “The meal is ready now. It will be eaten now.”

  Keir looked at me with such a sorrowful expression in his bright blue eyes. Just then his stomach rumbled, and I laughed right out loud.

  We ate, as the sky above us turned a vivid dark blue and deepened to black. The stars hung bright in the night sky, with a moon that glowed through the trees. Marcus finished refilling our mugs with kavage, and was cleaning the remains of our meal away when he asked his question. “How goes it with the warriors?”

  I was seated next to Keir, leaning against his shoulder, a cloak over both of us. But I leaned back a bit to see his face as he replied.

  Keir sighed. “Not as well as I could wish. Iften talks, and the warriors look at empty pack animals and empty saddle bags, and wonder if they have done the right thing in following me.” He reached over to stoke my hair. “I tell my truths, but words weigh little.”

  I leaned over and brushed his lips with mine. There wasn’t much that I could say to that. Keir’s conquest of Xy was a break in tradition for the Firelanders. Their normal practice was to raid and plunder what they could, to return to the Plains laden with spoils. But Keir wanted to change their ways, to conquer and hold, for the benefit of both peoples.

  “Fools.” Marcus grumbled. “They can’t see past the heads of their horses.”

  “But Keir, that’s not quite true. They’ve pots of fever’s foe, and that bloodmoss that we gathered.” I yawned. “They know more than they did before about fevers.” Goddess knew that was true. We’d pots and pots of fever’s foe left from treating the plague, and everyone had aided in the treatment of the sick. I’d spread the extra out, making sure that everyone had some, and were watching for signs of the plague’s return. If the Sweat re-appeared in our ranks, I wanted to know. Every warrior had agreed to carry some, and keep watch.

  Except Iften.

  Keir gave me a thoughtful look. “That’s a truth I had not considered, Lara.”

  I smiled at him, and then yawned again, so hard my jaw cracked and my eyes watered. My stomach was full, and I was warm and growing sleepy.

  Keir leaned in, taking the cup of kavage from my hand. “You are tired tonight, beloved.” He moved closer, and put his arm around me. The warmth felt good, and I leaned in, putting my head on his shoulder.

  “She asked for lessons.” Marcus answered softly. “She wants to be able to protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  I nodded, even as I felt sleep overtake me. Their voices continued, as the fire crackled. Then we were moving, and I found myself under the blankets with Keir at my side. I roused just enough to murmur a question in his ear.

  He chuckled softly. “Warlords also learn to wait for what they want. Sleep, Lara.”

  Content, I drifted off to sleep.

  At some point I felt Keir slip out from under the furs. I lifted my head, my eyes half open, to see him standing there, talking to one of the guards. I must have made some sort of questioning sound, for Keir turned toward me, his eyes glittering in the faint light. He gestured for me to return to sleep.

  I let my head sink down, grateful that I didn’t have to emerge from my warm bed. I’d adopted the Firelander custom of sleeping naked. It made more sense to my way of thinking. Less clothing for Marcus to clean, for example. A sign of my respect for the Firelanders. Goddess knew, Keir seemed . . . appreciative.

  But as convenient as the custom was, crawling naked from warm covers to dress in cold clothes left something to be desired. So I lay my head back down and let sleep take me.

  Much later, I roused again when Keir slid back into bed. He made every effort to keep the cold air from me, but his arm brushed mine in the process.

  His skin was cold.

  He whispered an apology and pulled away. But I’d have none of that. Without really opening my eyes, I moved closer.

  He was cold. Fool Warlord, standing outside to talk to the guards, naked. I shifted slowly, crawling over him to press my body as close as I could.

  He drew a deep breath as I covered his body with mine. A shudder ran through him as I pressed my breasts to his chest, letting my warm skin come into full contact with his chilled flesh. I lifted one hand to cup his cheek, and used the other to stroke the muscles of his upper arm.

  I moved my legs between his, and tried to place my feet so that they covered his toes. With my head on his shoulder my hair spread out like a blanket over him. I hummed in pleasure at the feel of his body. The soft skin of his stomach, the coarse hairs of his legs. The occasional scar. All of it Keir. My Keir.

  He relaxed beneath me, whispering thanks. I just smiled, and let my thumb trace the soft skin of his lips. The blankets and furs held the heat of our bodies and the scent of his skin.

  There were sounds of movement outside, probably a change of the guards. The wind was picking up, causing the tent to vibrate a little. We were coming down out of the mountains, but the chill of winter followed at our heels. Yet within this small shelter we were warm, safe, and dry.

  Gradually Keir’s body warmed and I shifted off to his side, so that the poor man didn’t have to bear my weight. I was careful to return to my side of the bed. Keir slept with his weapons next to him, and I’d no desire to bed that cold steel. I nestled down next to him, content with his comfort and ready to return to sleep.

  But I’d warmed Keir in more than one way. . . .