Simus deflated slightly with another sigh, then reached for the pitcher. She hadn’t seemed interested.
On the other hand, she hadn’t seemed un-interested. Simus’s grin returned. He’d take his victories where he may.
He stood, twisting and stretching, warming stiff muscles. It was odd, how comfortable her presence was within his tent. Snowfall was...restful. A quiet strength beside him.
She’d maintained his tent, showed in visitors, and met every challenge offered to her blades. Even Yers, as wary as he was, offered her respect. But those grey eyes revealed nothing in a face that was forever calm and serene.
Yet she also didn’t let him get away with anything. She never laughed at Simus’s asides or wild statements. Never rolled her eyes. Her face was always serene and cool.
It was annoying. Fascinating. Enticing.
He thought on that as he finished his kavage, and reached for his armor and weapons.
“Don’t forget the ointment,” Snowfall called from the main tent.
See? She cared. Simus grinned to himself, put down his padded tunic, and rummaged for the jar.
As he attended to his side, he thought on Snowfall. The mystery behind her eyes. It must take a great deal of work to control herself like that. To keep her face smooth and unresponsive, not cracking the slightest smile. A lot of control.
What would it take, he thought, to cause her to lose her mask? To see her smile, or laugh, or watch those eyes spark in rage. Or melt into pleasure at the touch of his hands?
A goal, Simus resolved as he strapped on his sword and dagger. Something to think on as he went through his day. Something to work on.
It was good to have goals.
It occurred toSnowfall that in one thing, Warlords and warrior-priests did not differ. At least, in the males.
She’d declined his offer of sharing with regret. He was a fine-looking man, well formed in all ways, and she had to suppress a certain curiosity as to his other...skills.
But there would be complications, with the other warriors if no one else. But also the magic. What if it flared as they shared their bodies? Her tattoos were already expressing some of her emotions. What if they responded in ways she couldn’t control? No, that was not worth the risk of satisfying her...curiosity. Even if his offer had heated her body. This was not the time or the place.
Still, her refusal had taken him back. That pleased her. Not that she would display that pleasure, one way or another.
What pleased her more was his acceptance after his initial shock. He accepted it. Oh, he pouted a bit, not that he would think of it as such. But still, she doubted few declined his offer of bedding as she had.
But while her Warlord’s mood was a good one, it seemed the Plains were of a different opinion. The wind was cold and biting, setting the leather tent sides to moving back and forth. The damp crept into the corner of every tent and every bone in a warrior’s body. No need to keep the challenge banners down; every warrior in camp not on duty was within a tent, seeing to tasks done well out of the rain and cold.
Snowfall sent out the messages as commanded while Simus ate.
She set the braziers burning in the command tent, and made the kavage strong and hot. She greeted his Second and Third with steaming mugs as they entered and shed their dripping cloaks. All of them accepted the mugs gratefully, even Yers. As others entered behind them, she greeted them as well.
And when all was in readiness, she ignored the stares and the side-ways glances, took up her Warlord’s token, and waited for him to call the senel to order.
Simus was amusedto see that Ouse and Lander were aiding Snowfall with the serving at the senel. Trust the young ones to try to be present when decisions were to be made.
Simus seated himself and then leaned over to Yers, seated to his left. “There’s a few missing yet, I see.”
Yers nodded, interrupting his sip of kavage. “It might take them a few minutes,” he explained. “Sal wanted to make sure that the Xyian supplies were well covered against the damp. And that Xyian healer was having some trouble with a leak in what he calls a ‘still tent’. Made quite the fuss.”
“How is Healer Hanstau?” Simus asked. “I have not seen much of him the last few days.”
“Because Haya claimed him,” Joden spoke up, approaching to take a seat off to the side, mug in hand. “She’s been having him help with the children, and demanding he explain his healing secrets to her.” Joden sat down. “Which is fairly amusing, since his command of our language is not strong, and Haya speaks no Xyian. Cadr has been kept busy, trying to explain one to the other.”
Simus chuckled, but looked at his friend with a careful eye. Something was off, something he’d not noticed before. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but something troubled Joden. Perhaps he’d approached Essa to become Singer? Simus caught Joden’s eye, and raised an eyebrow.
Joden shrugged, and dropped his gaze to his kavage.
Well, whatever it was, it would have to wait until after the senel. The last of his staff had entered, and were doffing their cloaks. Simus caught Snowfall’s eye and gave her the nod.
