“No,” Eloix said, and didn’t hide her regret.
Elois lit up. “Then maybe there is time for me to challenge as Token-bearer. In your stead,” she added slyly.
“Don’t gloat,” Eloix chided. “But defeat Destal for me.”
“I will,” Elois said, humor in her voice. “And we’ve no time to waste, if we are to carry our truths. The skies go with you.”
“And with you as well,” Eloix called out as she turned her horse toward Xy and urged him on.
And so it went, night following day, following night again, until at last she spotted the outpost at the border of Xy.
She slowed then, not eager to give an impression of frantic importance that might attract the wrong attentions. Various scouting groups saw her and hailed her, but she did little more than return their greetings. One group she did stop, since she recognized a few of the warriors. They assured her that Warlord Liam was at the outpost. One laughed, and warned her to ‘mind the crush within’ as they waved her on.
Puzzled, Eloix pushed on through the foothills, and the winding path that led to the building on the top of a sheer rise. As she emerged from the final stand of trees, she gasped out loud.
The last she’d seen the place, it had been a ruin, long abandoned by the Xyians. But now the stones were restored, and she could see within the walls a large yard filled with warriors, horses, oxen and wagons loaded with packs, all milling about in chaos. She pulled her horse to a stop just at the gates and gawked at the sight. Somanyladen animals, wagons, and warriors.
“Something to see, eh?” A Xyian guard stood there, pike in hand.
Eloix nodded, then dismounted. “I bear messages from the Plains for the Warlord Liam.”
The guard glanced at the sun above and gave a nod. “He’ll be in the Great Hall, most like. You been here before?”
Eloix shook her head. “Last I saw the place, it was scattered stone and vines.”
“Aye, the trades have been hard at it,” the guard said with a grin. “By order of the Warder of Xy.” He whistled and a young lad came running up. “Take this warrior to the Warlord,” the guard ordered him, then turned back to Eloix. “We’ll see to your horse and gear.”
Eloix followed the lad, although walking felt odd for the first few strides, as if her body had forgotten exactly how to do it. Still, she pushed on as the lad skirted along the wall to avoid the confusion, and led her through two large doors into a shadowed hall, cool and dark.
Warlord Liam, tall and regal, sat at the end of the hall, facing a small crowd of Xyians and Plains warriors, all of whom seemed agitated. One in particular, a small balding man with a paunch, argued loudly with a taller warrior, who looked ready to pull a blade.
Eloix thought it best to hold herself back, but Liam spotted her over their heads. With a look of relief, he gestured her forward. “Are you from Keir or Simus?” he demanded, silencing the group before him with a gesture. “I’ve been expecting a messenger.”
“Simus, Warlord.” Eloix advanced and would have gone to one knee, but Liam shook his head and rose to his feet.
“Warrior, I know the look of one who has had nothing but kavage and gurt for days on end.” Liam walked through the crowd. “You and I will talk in the kitchens. As to the rest of you, settle these issues among yourselves before you depart for the Plains on the morrow. If I make the decision, no one will be pleased.” Liam stepped away, and gestured to Eloix. “Come.”
He strode off, and she followed with some trepidation. Eloix had served under her share of Warlords. Some good, some bad, but they almost all could be unpredictable at times, until one knew their ways. She’d not served under Liam, but had heard good things for the most part. She followed as he walked, and flicked her glance to his ear, which was woven with wires and gems that caught the light. She hurriedly dropped her gaze, not wanting to be caught staring. Most of the talk about Liam was of his broken bonding with Marcus, Keir’s Token-bearer, and that was in hushed tones under bells.
They entered through a large arched doorway, and Eloix walked into a room filled with people, warmth, and the smell of bread and roasting meats. Her mouth started watering, and her stomach gave a mighty rumble.
Liam strode past the large spits covered in roasting birds, and the grand ovens where the servants were working. Xyian cooks from the look of things, and her stomach grumbled again at the scents of spices and meat.
Liam called for food as Eloix trotted to keep up with his long legs. She found herself seated at a table in a kitchen that reminded her of the one at the Castle of Water’s Fall. As she sat on the bench, adjusting her sword and dagger, a large platter with a loaf of warm, fresh bread was placed in front of her by a serving maid, with a crock of butter and a knife for spreading.
“Eat,” Liam commanded, seating himself opposite her.
Eloix tore off a piece off the loaf, made good use of the butter, and crammed it in her mouth.
“I’ve barely arrived from Water’s Fall, but it seems they’ve stored up all their disputes for me to resolve. That chaos in the outer yard—” Liam tore off a hunk of bread for himself. “That chaos is the supplies that Othur has sent to Simus.”
Eloix’s mouth was full, but she raised a questioning eyebrow, then leaned back to let the girl place a plate of roasted fowl before her.
“The Seneschal thought to send a healer with the supplies,” Liam said. “I am not sure that was wise decision. You have met the Warprize?”
Eloix nodded, tearing the leg from the bird, and bit into the succulent meat.
“Well, let us just say, he is not Lara.” Liam grimaced. “Be that as it may, I will hear your news, have you sleep this night within my walls, and then send you on your way with two warriors as escorts as soon as the sun rises.”