"It scared me, when Iften . . ." My voice trailed off as I remembered finding Iften standing over Keir, as he lay in the grips of the plague.
Keir wrapped his arms around me, and I lay my head on his chest. "It warms me that you want to do this, Lara." His voice was soft in the darkness. "And to some extent, Marcus is wrong. With enough practice, you could become a fighter, if you choose. Maybe not as fast as those of the Plains, but with training you could do it. You could do anything, if you minded to." I smiled against his chest.
"But your time is better spent at what you do best, Master Healer," Keir suggested. "Learn how to react, and to work with your guards, to be sure. But think on the abilities that you have now, and not the ones you don't have."
I lifted my head. "Just as well. All that armor is hot and uncomfortable. It makes me sweat." His eyes took on a gleam, and he rolled me to my back. "Is there something wrong with sweaty?"
"Nothing at all." I laughed as I hooked my arm over his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine. "Let me prove it to you again."
And again . . .
The next morning I woke, with a smile on my face, to an empty bed. Keir had probably left me before dawn, his usual practice.
I stretched under the warm covers and relaxed. That was when I noticed the silence. Where were the normal sounds of the morning, the sound of moving warriors?
How late had I slept?
I reached out for the pile of clothing I'd left close to the bed. I eased them into the warmth, and lay there for a moment, letting them lose some of their chill before dressing quickly. I slung my satchel over my head and settled it on my hip before emerging from the tent.
Marcus was sitting there, with my guards. When I came out, they sprang up, and started moving toward the tent. Marcus spoke, his voice cutting through my morning fog. "Finally."
"Marcus?" I stepped out, pulling my cloak on behind me. As I left the tent, I heard it collapse behind me, and saw that Rafe, Prest and Ander were disassembling it even as I drank.
"Hisself said to let you sleep, and so I did," Marcus explained, as he thrust out a piece of bread with cold meat wrapped in it, and a cup of kavage. "We must ride to catch him." I stuffed the food in my mouth, nodding even as I chewed. Marcus kicked the fire out and poured the last of the kavage into my cup, before packing the rest of his gear. I drank the bitter brew and looked around. The sky was a bright blue, with not a cloud anywhere to be seen. But snow lurked beyond the mountains. I could smell it in the brisk air.
The army had already packed up and started moving. I could see the last of the warriors and horses moving off into the trees. How I'd slept through that I'd nev—
Then I remembered what Keir and I had done last night, and smiled into my kavage. Marcus moved off to aid Rafe and Prest in the packing. Ander and Yveni went for one of the pack horses that stood nearby. Greatheart was with the other horses. He was asleep, of course. I was fairly certain that was why he'd been picked for me, given my so-called riding skills. I gulped more kavage as the activity caused the big brown horse to open his eyes. When he spotted me, he whickered, and started to walk my way. The other horses shook themselves as well, as if understanding that we were about to leave.
"Where is Keir?" I asked as I finished the kavage down to the dregs. I felt much more alert with each swallow.
"We ride to meet him," Rafe answered, securing the packs on the horses. He said nothing more, but he had a slight smirk on his face, which was mirrored on Prest's lips. Something was up. Greatheart was smelling my hair, and I reached out to stroke the scar on his chest and to scratch his ears. He was a good-sized horse, and I had to chuckle at the idea that I might be able to leap onto his back.
"Hurry." Marcus gestured for me to mount. The guards waited until I was settled in the saddle before they mounted as well, and we took off at a trot.
It didn't take long, since the army was moving at a walking pace. Marcus kept up our pace as we passed the warriors, clearly intent on catching Keir as quickly as possible. A few of the warriors called greetings to me as we passed, but others scowled. I had to sigh at the clear evidence that Iften was still spreading dissent among the ranks.
After a while, Marcus raised his head and warbled out a cry, calling to Keir. There was a response up ahead, and Marcus urged the horses to a gallop. Rafe and Prest had the lead, with Ander and Yveni following, easily keeping up the pace.
Then we broke free from the trees to see Keir galloping toward us.
We came together, and brought the horses to a stop. "Herself slept long," Marcus explained.
"She had good reason." Keir's face was neutral, but there was a gleam in his eye. I blushed, which made the corners of his eyes crinkle up. He sidled his horse close to Greatheart and leaned over to stroke my cheek with his hand. "I would ask something of you."
"Yes?"
He cleared his throat. "I would give you your first glimpse of the Plains, if you would come. The scouts found it during their sweep. You can see the Plains from there, and I wish to be the one to show you."
"Of course."
He looked a bit embarrassed. "Would you . . . could I..."
I gave him a puzzled look, since it wasn't like him to be indecisive.
Keir puffed out a breath in frustration. "I would have you in my arms for this first sight of my land." He held out his arm in a pleading gesture.
Without a word, I leaned over so that he could wrap his arm around my waist and pull me into the saddle in front of him. "I'd like nothing more, my Warlord," I whispered as I settled in front of him. He flushed with pleasure, and urged his horse on. Greatheart followed, as did the others. We headed off into the trees, working our way at an angle down a small track. I nestled in closer to Keir and felt his arms tighten around me. We'd ridden this way the second time he'd claimed me. Or I had claimed him, depending on who was talking. It felt right that my first sight of the Plains would be in Keir's arms.
