"Raving?" Keekai asked.
"Like the battle madness," I responded, not wanting to have to give a lengthy explanation.
"Ah." She tilted her head to the side, and studied me. "Not a word to use lightly. Nor would I say it outside the bells. I am not surprised to hear that Keir's thoughts move in that direction now." I waited, nervous.
"A Warking is a warrior that stands above all, even the Council." Keekai rubbed a finger over her eye.
"There have been only two in the past, who rose when we of the Plains faced dire threats."
"You think Keir intends to become one?" I asked.
"I do not pretend to know that one's truths." Keekai was deadly serious, her eyes never leaving mine.
"But speak of this only to him and to Marcus. You understand?"
"I do," I answered quietly.
Keekai shook her head again, as if in despair. "I have told that fool of a warlord that blind hatred of the warrior-priests is a dangerous thing. But that one, he is stubborn. Knows what he wants, and gets it." I blushed and looked away, knowing that trait in Keir very well.
Very well indeed.
The hunters returned, with an odd looking deer that they soon had spitted and roasting. Keekai and I emerged to hear the tale of the hunt.
The warrior-priests seemed no different from the other warriors in their excitement over the hunt and the kill. I watched closely, trying to see the differences in the details of the tattoos. Iften, grim and brooding, wasn't far away. He'd seated himself off with a group of older warrior-priests, and he was talking. From the glances that came my way, he was spilling his hatred into their ears. I gritted my teeth, and tried not to think of going over and spitting on his shoes. I reminded myself that it would be mean-spirited. That it would bring me down to his level.
That it would feel really good.
"We spotted some warriors of the Plains when we returned from the hunt." One of the warrior-priests was talking to Keekai. "They kept their distance, followed us for a time, then disappeared over a ridge."
"They didn't identify themselves?" Keekai asked.
"No, Elder."
"Odd," Keekai said.
Still Waters was beside her. "Not so odd these days. The old ways of the plains, the courtesy of the land and of the tents, is gone."
Keekai shot him a look. "Or perhaps they thought warrior-priests would not welcome an intrusion. Still, it is unusual."
A grunt from Still Waters was the only response.
"A belly-full of meat, and kavage." Keekai sat on her pallet and patted her stomach. "Well worth the stop, eh?"
I nodded, drinking the last bit of kavage from my cup.
"And look." Keekai raised her hand into the air, and flexed her fingers for me to see. "The stiffness eases."
"Good." I smiled, pleased at the relief the salve gave her. Stiff joints and crooked fingers could be a source of terrible pain to the old. "Keekai, how old are you?"
"Eh?" she asked, tucking herself into the blankets.
"How many years do you have?"
"You count years?" Keekai looked at me as if I had grown horns. I clenched my teeth. Honestly, how did these people manage? I thought for a moment. "How long did it take you to have your children?"
There was an odd look of remembered pain, but her voice was light when she answered. "Popped them out one after the other after my moon times came upon me."
"Were you late getting your courses?"
