“He did,” Leda confirmed. “And there are many other candidates who have not expressed support. Ultie being one of them. An attack may cause them to turn against us.” She glanced at Antas. “Our truths are more effective than our swords.”
“We need a Singer.” Veritt looked into his kavage glumly.
“True.” Antas frowned into his mug as well. “I had hoped that Joden of the Hawk would claim that place, but he betrayed us. Still, there are others who may be persuaded.”
“So we wait?” Veritt asked.
Antas scowled. “I hate waiting,” he said. “I am not good at it.”
“We know,” Catha said and gave him her soft smile. “Yet in its way, patience is as powerful a weapon as your sword.”
“Fine. Yes, we wait.” Antas took up his mug. “It is enough for now to build our strength. Although, I want far-ranging scouts sent out, to locate Wild Winds if possible. Especially if he has those with him who still wield power. They might yet be brought within our camp to serve our purpose.”
Leda nodded.
“We’ve voices and eyes at the Heart,” Veritt said. “They’ll let us know the ways the winds are blowing. They will tell us when the Council tent is raised.”
“When do we strike at Simus?” Leda asked.
“Perhaps we don’t,” Catha said.
Antas opened his mouth to protest, but Catha raised her gentle hand. “Our allies can strike at Simus and his allies. Shoot the horses out from under them while we wait to see how the Trials go.”
“Then, when the Council tent is raised, we act.” Antas nodded reluctantly. “The Elders must see reason.” He raised an eyebrow at his warriors. “And if they do not, my patience will come to an end.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Simus awoke to the first chirps of the grass birds. A slight breeze was playing with the sides of the tent, bringing with it the scent of promised rain. His camp was just starting to stir as the night watch prepared for dawn.
He stretched under the blankets, and grinned in delight. His camp. His army. Considering how this season has started, it was coming to a satisfactory close.
Provided of course, everything went according to plan.
His grin faded as he gave a groan at that thought. After all, he knew well the truth of, ‘If you wish to hear the winds laugh, tell them your plans.’
There was a scratching at the flap to his sleeping area.
“Come,” he said.
Snowfall entered, gracefully carrying a tray with kavage. “Good morning, Warlord.”
She stood, holding the tray, in her leather trous and corselet. A sheen of rain covered the tattoos that capped her strong shoulders, and the droplets also gleamed in her hair. Her face was neutral.
“Morning.” Simus sat up, feeling the bruising in his ribs all the more this morning. He groaned, throwing back the blankets and sitting cross-legged on his bed. He reached up and stretched.
Snowfall was giving him a critical look. “The bruising seems less,” she said. “You should use more of that ointment.”
Simus lowered his arms and gave her a bright, hopeful look. She’d declined to share before but this was a new day. “Perhaps you could rub it on for me?”
To Simus’s disappointment, Snowfall didn’t even blink. Didn’t even raise one of those delicate eyebrows. “No. Here’s kavage for now,” she said calmly.
Simus admired the movement of her lovely hips as she knelt to place the tray next to him. She rose just as smoothly, displaying the long length of her legs. “I will have your meal ready shortly.”
“Send word to Yers that I would hold a senel as soon as I have eaten,” Simus said with a sigh. “Ask Joden to join us as well.” He reached for the kavage. “Do not raise the challenge banners this morning.”
Snowfall bowed her head. “As you wish, Warlord.”
With that, she was gone.
