If I did this, if I joined him in death, Keir's dream and hope for his people died with me. I took a long, deep breath.
I took another.
If I killed myself, those miserable, rotten, tattooed bastards would win. Iften, that murderous bastard, would win.
If I killed myself, our unborn child would die too.
Oh, Goddess.
I pulled the blade away from my wrist, and started to work it back under my sleeve. My heart was broken. It felt as if my life was broken as well, shattered with his loss. I'd grieved for my fa ther's death, but this was beyond any sorrow I'd ever felt. Part of my soul was gone, shriveled and black, a physical wound that would never heal.
I'd seen people live with pain, adapting to their injuries, re-building their lives. But it was never the same. I'd never be whole again.
I would see to our peoples, as best I could. I would see to our child, if indeed I was pregnant. Only then would I join Keir in the snows.
And beyond.
I sat and contemplated my satchel. The sun hung high over my head. Those goat-like creatures had moved further down the stream, chortling and chuckling among themselves. What was I going to do?
It was all very well to decide to live, to carry out Keir's vision, but just how was I going to do that?
What did I want to do?
I pulled one of the long blades of grass, and played with it. What did I want?
I wanted Keir.
My tears threatened again, but I dashed them away. I needed to think, not weep. I wanted to go back to Xy. It made no sense to stay on the Plains, especially if my status as Warprize was not going to be confirmed. With Keir gone, I wasn't sure that was even possible anymore. I wanted Keir.
My head snapped up, and I knew what I wanted. What I needed to do.
I wanted to go home. And I wanted to take Keir with me.
It made no sense, of course. To go back to the Heart of the Plains and demand the body of my Warlord? Goddess alone knew who survived that fight, who was in control. But even Iften had a degree of honor. I was almost certain that an unarmed woman would not be killed outright. Almost certain.
I was going to return to the Heart of the Plains and claim my Warlord.
I used my sleeve again, to dry my eyes. If they'd burned him, I'd demand the ashes. I'd let Reness know that I'd heal any that came to me, and teach healing to anyone who wanted to learn. That keep by the border, the one that overlooked the Plains. We could rebuild it into a school of healing. Those of the Plains who came in peace would be welcome.
Yes. That was what I would do. But first, I was going to claim my Warlord, and find out what had happened in the Heart. Who lived? Who was in charge? Perhaps Rafe or Prest survived? They hadn't been with the dead, but—
Marcus hadn't been either.
I worried my lower lip with my teeth. If Marcus were dead, he'd be at Keir's side; I'd no doubt of that. I tried to remember what I'd seen, if there'd been anyone with Keir. But he'd been so far back, and I'd been crying . . .
I wasn't sure.
But there was a chance that Marcus lived.
I glared at the hapless blade of grass in my hands. I'd claim Keir's body. I'd claim Marcus as well, dead or alive. I might just give what was left of the Council a piece of my mind, while I was at it. I glanced over to see that Greatheart was napping, his head down, his hips cocked to the side. Poor old beast. He'd worn himself out carrying me to safety.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew this was what I had to do. I was going to go and find my Warlord and claim him for a final time. I'd take him back, to lie on the borders of our lands. I'd lie next to him, eventually. When the time came.
I started crying again, for what we'd lost. Our time together, the life we would have shared. The children we would have had, watching them grow, and having children of their own.Goddess, Lady of Mercy and Light, please let me be pregnant.
My stomach rumbled again, and I reached back into the satchel for a few more pieces of gurt. I should conserve my supplies, but my stomach wanted gurt, and it wanted gurt now. I shrugged, and ate, following it with more of the water from the stream. That would have to hold me for a while. I stood, slung my satchel over my shoulder, and brushed myself off. The sun was starting to move. If I was going to do this, I needed to set aside this pain for now. My grief could wait. I had to get moving. I dug back into the satchel and took out some of those bandages to wrap around my hands. Greatheart woke with a snort as I tugged on his mane. It took me a while to get on, without a saddle, but he stood patiently as I pulled myself up.
Once mounted, I looked around and realized I didn't have a clue how to get back to the Heart. There were no landmarks, no roads. The herds were not moving in any particular pattern that I could make out.
