I paused, thinking back. When had I last had my courses?
The last I'd thought of it had been the day when Keir and I had eaten by the lake. I flushed atthe memory of our tryst. We'd taken advantage of the sun and the water and the privacy. I'dbeen due then, and here I was, weeks later, with no sign of them. Admittedly, I'd been sick,which could cause a delay, but still…
Could I be pregnant?
I sat and stared at the tent wall for some time, thinking about it, trying to decide how I feltabout the possibility. I
didn't feel like I was bearing, not that I had any actual experience. But I knew the symptoms aswell as any other healer, and I wasn't feeling anything along those lines. No swelling of thelower limbs, no nausea.
I thought of how Keir had played with little Meara, how the other warriors had treated the babeas gently as any Xyian. The news would bring great joy, but troubles too. The Council of Xyhad made demands, conditions on my acceptance of the role of Warprize. I hadn't talked toKeir about them yet. It wasn't an issue until I was pregnant and the child was due.
Which was a falsehood on my part. I worried my lip, thinking. How do I tell him what I'dpromised? Before I'd seen him with a babe, I'd thought that children meant little to thesepeople. After all, they bore children, they left them to be raised by theas, going off to serve inthe army. But then they'd shown that they treasure children much as my people do, maybeeven more.
I drew a deep breath in and let it out slowly. I'd tell him when I was with child, not before. Isdrawould know, she'd borne before. I could confide in her, but even as I had the thought I knew Iwouldn't. It was too soon, and I had no desire to add to her pain, or worse, give her a falsehope. I'd share the news when I was certain, not before.
Time would tell, of course, and I tried to be practical. But for just a moment, as I put my handover my belly, a vision of a small boy with dark hair and blue eyes, dragging a wooden practicesword, flashed into my mind. He'd look so much like Keir…
In a bemused state, I moved to start my bath.
* * *
Of course, I was bending over, rinsing my hair, when I heard someone enter behind me.
"You came too late, my Warlord." I stood and turned to reach for another bucket of water, ateasing smile on my lips.
It wasn't Keir.
A man stood there, with wild tangled fur for hair and colored tattoos all over his face and chest.
He was glaring at me, holding a long spear, with a human skull tied near the tip.
I shrieked, and heaved the bucket at him.
Chapter 13
The bucket hit his chest and water splashed everywhere, but it didn't faze the wild man. Heraised his spear and shook it at me, snarling and growling like an animal, his unruly hair tossingabout his head.
My heart was in my throat, but I wasn't finished yet. My bag was a step away, and a large jarof boiled skunk cabbage was the first thing my fingers touched. I threw, catching him right onthe head. The jar shattered, and the stinking, gooey mess exploded in the man's face. Heroared in pain as it splashed into his eyes.
I darted around him, and ran through the door. My cloak was on the bed, I snatched it up tocover my nakedness, screaming for help. The man was behind me, yelling something that Ididn't pause to hear. I plunged through the meeting room and out the entrance.
Rafe, Prest and Marcus were there, but I only had eyes for Keir, who was running toward us,swords in hand. I ran to meet him, as the crazy man stumbled out of the tent behind me, wipinghis eyes and roaring.
Keir placed himself between us, and I took shelter behind him, clutching at the cloak. Everyonewas shouting and in an uproar. But Keir's roar silenced them all. "What is the meaning ofthis?"
"He came in while I was bathing!" I stayed behind Keir, and wrapped the cloak tight aroundme. My wet hair was a mess, streaming water down my back, and the ground was cold beneathmy bare feet.
"We tried to tell him, Warlord." Rafe spoke, glaring at the man. "He would not listen."
Marcus spat on the ground.
There was silence as the wild man stood there, dripping water and stinking of skunk cabbage.
"Why do you violate the privacy of the Warprize, Warrior-Priest?" Keir challenged.
That was a warrior-priest? I peeked out from behind Keir, to stare at the man. He looked noless crazed than he had before. The matted hair was thick, and there was fur braided into it. Histattoos were bright and vivid, colored in green, red, blue, and black. His cloak was a fur ofsome kind, and his trous looked like it needed a good scrubbing. That skull on the spear didnothing to reassure me.
The man drew himself up, and tried his best to look impressive. Ordinarily, I was sure that itworked, but it is hard to be dignified and awe inspiring when noxious stuff is dripping from yourhair. I had to give him credit for trying, though.
