All three sat wrapped in their blankets, the laughter gone from their suddenly bright eyes.
“You caused this, Joden of the Hawk,” came the whisper. “When you saved Simus and did not give him mercy. You started this—”
“—but will you finish it?” the quaver asked.
“How did you know—” Joden demanded.
“The winds bring word of your deeds,” said the cackle.
“Joden comes before you as a candidate,” Essa spat. “Give him your usual cryptic blessing, and we will be on our way.”
“Leave us,” came the whisper.
“Joden stays,” came the quaver.
Essa drew himself up, clearly angered. “I am the Eldest Elder of the Singers, not to be treated as a child or as an unworthy—”
Snorts, and more chuckles.
“If you don’t tell me,” Essa said making an obvious effort. “The songs will die with you. The truth will die with you.”
“You are so sure,” came the whisper.
“Maybe, maybe,” said the quaver.
“Maybe not,” said the cackle and they all laughed till they wheezed.
“Besides,” the cackle added. “Why should we tell you, child?”
“An insult, it’s not to be borne,” Essa snarled. “I—”
The three started to sing, a weird three-part harmony that sent chills up Joden’s spine.
“Fine,” Essa barked, turned on his heel, and headed for the tent flap.
Joden followed, but Essa shook his head. “Stay. Skies above, maybe they will share with you what they have denied me for years.” Essa grabbed Joden’s arm. “I want those songs,” he hissed, then stomped out of the tent.
Joden stared at the closing tent flap, and turned to face the Ancients.
“Sit,” the one in the center nodded its head. “Sit before us, Singer-to-be.”
Joden obeyed, sitting cross-legged before them. The heat grew even more intense.
“So, you think our ways are sacred,” the left one said, in a voice as clear as a bell. “Special, traditional, the Way of the Plains.”
“Yes,” Joden says.
“But in need of change,” the right one said, with a sweet innocent tone.
“Yes,” Joden said. “The power of the warrior-priests—”
“Has been broken,” said the one in the middle, with a deep timber.
“I—” Joden started.
“You honor the way of the Plains, with all its traditions.” The bell tone reminded him. “Yet you broke that tradition when you failed to grant Simus of the Hawk mercy on the field of battle.”
“I did,” Joden said. “But it brought a Warprize to the Plains, one skilled in the ways of healing.”
