Marcus stiffened. She’d never seen him so stricken but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
“I will protect him from himself,” Amyu hissed, fully expecting Marcus to draw his daggers. “As you protected Liam. I know Joden’s worth, and I will not let him waste it on me.” Heart pounding, she continued recklessly on, “But do not tell me that all will be well. Any more than it is for you.”
She didn’t wait for his reaction. She slid out and eased the door closed, so as not to wake the babes. Her anger bubbled as she pounded down the stairs, but it faded with every step, leaving only pain.
The kitchens were being cleaned and settled for the night, but Amyu found a table full of warriors. Marcsi was serving them kavage, bread, and cheese and the talk was lively.
“Rafe?” Amyu called, and his head popped up from the table.
“Amyu,” Rafe gave her a grin. “Come and sit. We missed the senel, didn’t we?”
“It is still going on, but the Warlord announced that he would leave in two days’ time. Now they speak of Xyian matters.” she slid into a space on the bench next to him. “Did you find anything?”
Rafe shook his head. “No, no airions. We found the cave you were in, but little else. Still the mountain is beautiful, and we learned much of climbing.”
“And falling,” Ksand grimaced.
Rafe laughed. “True enough,” he said, taking a moment to stuff his face with a meat pie. “Good,” he mumbled around his mouthful. “Two days will give us enough time to prepare. Lasa lost her dagger in a tumble, and we left Fylin with Master Eln to stitch up a deep gash. Couldn’t use bloodmoss, too dirty.” Rafe took a long drink from his mug. “Let us tell you, that mountain is a force of the elements in its own right.”
Amyu let their talk wash over her as they described their adventure, chiming in and talking over each other. She even worked up enough of an appetite to eat a bit of bread and butter.
Horns sounded, and everyone lifted their heads. “End of the senel.” Rafe started to rise. “Best we report to the Warlord.”
They all rose. Amyu followed them out of the kitchens, but took another path as they headed to the royal chambers. She’d left a few tunics and the basket of shards in Joden’s room. She’d get them quickly, and be done.
The room was the same, unchanged, still smelling slightly of their bodies and sharing. Amyu opened the shutters and turned back. Joden had made up the bed and had folded her tunics off to the side, sitting them on a chair. On top of the tunics was the basket holding the shards of the sword.
Amyu took them up, and cast a glance about, looking for anything else she’d left behind. But there was nothing left of hers, well, no things. But her dreams?
Anxious not to cry again, anxious to have done with her pain, she shut that thought down and turned toward the door.
Joden stood there, his face filled with questions
Joden stood inthe doorway, his heart sinking as he saw Amyu gather up her things.
She turned, her arms full and stared at him before dropping her gaze. Her eyes were red and puffy and stricken.
“Singer—” she started.
“Amyu,” he sang her name, not wanting to stumble over it.
Amyu frowned. “You don’t need to do that with me,” she said. “Not if you don’t want to.”
Joden nodded. “L-l-let t-t-there b-b-be t-t-truth b-b-between u-u-us.”
“Good.” She straightened and looked him straight in the eye, her sweet brown eyes sad and determined. “Here is my truth, Joden of the Hawk. You are a Singer, destined for greatness on the Plains and beyond. You have taken the old paths, and shown your willingness to sacrifice for your people.
“A Singer must be an example to the People,” her voice cracked. “A Keeper of the way of the Plains, of our traditions.” She drew a ragged breath. “This, what is between us, is not of our ways.”
“A-a-amyu,” Joden’s heart shared the pain he saw in her eyes.
“You are a Singer—” Amyu’s voice was shaking.
“N-n-not,” Joden shook his head. “M-m-may n-n-not.” He shook his head in frustration, then sang the words, “A Singer’s voice must be true, their words strong.”
“And yours are, and will grow stronger. You are an admired and respected Singer-to-be,” Amyu continued. “You can’t have a child in your tent or at your side, in defiance of the ways of the Plains.”
Joden stepped toward her, his arms open.
