“The ultimate choice is mine,” Simus said. “At the end of the Trials, I pick my Token-bearer from those that have won the right to contest for it. It is a process, not an elimination. Allowing her to challenge is no risk to me.”
A roar came from outside the flap.
“But it allows her within your camp, and confidences,” Yers said. “If she doesn’t poison your kavage, or attempt to bewitch you with her powers. What would Warlord Keir think of this if he were here? He’d never trust—”
“Keir is not here,” Simus hardened his voice. “I will be Warlord within my own right. And have you not given me your oath?”
Yers dropped his gaze and lowered himself to one knee. “Yes, Warlord.”
“Do you wish to rescind your oath?” Simus pressed.
“No, Warlord,” Yers said, his eyes still down.
“No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy,” Simus stated firmly. “I will see this done as best I know how, knowing our goals. But the choices and decisions are mine to make.” Simus paused. “If you feel differently, give me your token, tell me your truths, and I will release you from my service.”
There was silence, then Yers bowed his head. “No, Warlord, I obey.”
“Like Keir, I wish to hear your truths,” Simus said. “But in the end, I will make my decisions and expect to be obeyed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Warlord,” Yers said. With that, he seated himself at Simus’s side.
Simus glanced at Joden, who said nothing, then turned to look at Seo. The older man gave him a nod. Was that approval from his old weapons-master? He had to be mistaken.
Seo’s wrinkled face folded into a smile. “Can’t wait to tell this to Haya. She’ll have a few things to say, that is certain.”
The tent flap flew open, and Destal stomped through, a look of rage on her face and a cut on her cheek. Snowfall followed behind her, her face calm, her knives sheathed. They disappeared into the serving area, and Simus found himself holding his breath, listening. But there was only silence and the clatter of pottery.
Finally, Snowfall emerged carrying a pitcher of kavage and mugs. She walked up to them, still cool and calm. “Kavage, Warlord?”
“Yes, Token-bearer.” Simus took the mug from her hand.
Snowfall turned and offered kavage to Yers, who declined, and then to Joden and Seo, who both took a mug. She then turned back to Simus. “Should I raise your challenge banner, Warlord?”
“Yes,” Simus took a sip of the kavage.
“More warriors would ask permission to challenge for Token-bearer, Warlord,” Snowfall said calmly. “They are lining up outside.”
“Send them in,” Simus instructed.
Snowfall nodded, set the kavage pitcher down at his side, and walked out of the tent.
“That woman is in for one hard day,” Simus mused. “Meanwhile, we have work to attend to.”
Simus approved somehandful of challengers, and then left the tent through the back way to oversee the placement of the thea camp with a very cranky Second. Simus was willing to give Yers time to adjust to his decision, but he wasn’t going to tolerate much else. They both concentrated on the duties before them, and when a warrior informed them that Destal had left on a long-range hunt, neither made comment to the other.
All during what was left of the morning, Simus was approached by warriors wishing to challenge for Token-bearer. Except for a few clearly unsuitable candidates, who had no skills to be a Token-bearer, and a few hotheads spoiling for a fight, he granted the requests.
But by the time the sun was almost at its height he was tired, and hungry and curious, so he returned to his tent with two of his Tenths.
Snowfall was facing another opponent, her wicked knives out and flashing, and had him cut before Simus drew close.
“Done,” Quartis the Singer declared. “With Snowfall the winner.”
The loser offered his surrender, and Snowfall took the dagger with a nod. She had quite a nice pile of them at the base of the pole.
“Quartis, have you been judging all morning?” Simus asked. “I thank you for your service.”
“As do I,” Snowfall added softly.
