Antas gave him a nod. “Greetings, Weaponsmaster, Seo of the Fox.”
Seo nodded in greeting, but said nothing.
“Do you bring news of the Heart?” Haya asked, not relaxing her stance. “Of the lance of light that pierced the sky?”
“No,” Antas answered truthfully. “That is a concern for the warrior-priests and I have had no word as to its meaning.” That was honest enough, although he was certain that Hail Storm would have a tale to tell when next they met. “No, Haya, I would speak of the Trials, and the dangers to our young ones.”
There was a long pause then, with nothing to be heard but the wind in the grass.
“It would be good to hear whatever news you bear,” Seo said.
Haya’s face was unreadable, but she lowered her arms. “I offer you and your warriors the shelter of my tent. Come within. Speak your truths.”
Antas entered Haya’s tent to find that her courtesy was a warm one, with a brazier glowing, hot kavage offered, and bowls of gurt placed within easy reach. But there was no warmth in Haya’s eyes as she gestured him and his Second to take their seats.
“This is Quartis,” Haya said shortly, indicating the younger man already seated to her left. He had the tattoo of a bird’s wing around his eye, and feathers braided into his long hair.
“Greetings, Singer.” Antas eyed the man warily, but Quartis’s face and nod were neutral and proper in all respects.
Antas gestured to the warrior who had followed him within the tent. “My Second is Veritt of the Bear.”
Haya sat, her back still and straight. “My people will offer kavage for your men, and see to their horses. As I said, I can offer you little time. I’ve two young warriors to mourn for this night, and a sorrowing camp.”
“Death comes in an instant,” Antas repeated, taking the kavage. The young warrior who served him limped slightly as she moved about with mugs and a pitcher. “A hard lesson for the young of the Plains to learn.”
“So it is,” Haya said. “Your truths?”
Blunt and to the point. Antas cleared his throat. “As Elders, you were at the Council of Elders when—”
“No,” Haya cut him off. “I was not in the Council that day.” She caught Antas’s glance at Seo. “Nor was Seo,” she continued. “Reness was there, but I have not heard her truths.” Haya paused, studying Antas intently. “I have heard many tales of what happened, but we did not see.”
“Ah.” Antas leaned forward, feeling a bit more confident. “But you know that the Council of Elders have failed us. Failed to protect the Plains from Keir of the Cat and those of his ilk.”
“I hear that blood was spilt,” Haya said, staring into her mug of kavage. “I hear that a Warprize was claimed, and that Keir of the Cat was stripped of his position, Warlord no longer. What dangers do you speak of, Antas?”
“The threat to our ways, our traditions,” Antas said. “The loss of respect for our warrior-priests—”
“If it’s lost, it’s their own fault,” snapped the young warrior who had served them, the pitcher of kavage clutched tight in her white-knuckled hands. “They—”
“Tenna,” Haya cut her off. “See to the warriors without.”
Tenna pressed her lips together, bowed her head, and limped from the tent.
“Forgive her lapse,” Haya said tightly. “The dead we mourn this day were of her tent.”
Antas gave her an understanding nod. “Haya, you are known as a thea of strength and ability. For years you have raised strong young warriors to serve the Plains—”
“I have already released my young ones to the Plains,” Haya said. “If you seek warriors, you must go the Heart and raise your banner.”
“I seek your entire camp, Haya, to place it under my protection,” Antas said.
That shocked the old gurtle into silence.
“I protect this camp,” Seo growled.
“I honor that.” Antas gave the Elder a nod. “You are weaponsmaster to the young, and keep them safe from the normal perils of the Plains. But these are not normal times, Seo. And the dangers can come in many forms. We must keep to the old paths and restore the old ways. The young ones must be kept safe and free of taint.”
The three before him were still and silent, waiting.
