"I do not know the truth of all that has been, and can only speak the truth that I know." Keekai looked at me from her nest of blankets. "You understand?"
I nodded, unwilling to interrupt.
"I am no Singer, but you must know of the past before I can say more." Keekai rubbed her knees beneath the covers. "Long ago, a Warlord claimed the first Warprize. Together, they united all the tribes of the Plains. They created the Council of Elders as the wisdom of the Plains, the Singers as the knowledge, the Theas as the spirit. The Warrior-priests were supposed to be its strength." Keekai sighed deeply and her shoulders slumped under the blankets. "It worked well, for a time. But something happened. The warrior-priests began to claim to speak for the elements, to have magic that they alone wielded."
Keekai paused, adjusting her blankets, and I poured us both more kavage. She pulled her hands out and held the mug in her blanket-covered lap.
"Now, Keir has always had the strength of a warrior. But he also has a heart, a caring for his people. It hurts him to see people suffer, and it infuriates him to see one in pain and another stand by and do nothing."
"Is that what the warrior-priests do?"
Keekai nodded. "They only use their magic on those they decide are worthy." She fixed me with an intent stare, as if trying to find the right words. "With Keir, the reason for his anger," she hesitated, "there was a woman—"
My heart froze in my throat. My face must have reflected my feelings, for Keekai stopped and frowned.
"No, not a binding. A young woman raised beside him, eh? Of his tribe. Do you understand?"
"Like a sister?"
Keekai looked puzzled. "I do not know this word." I explained, and her face cleared. "Yes, yes. One does not lie down with a member of one's tribe. We track the blood of all, to insure strength in the children." Keekai pulled the blankets off her shoulder to show me her tattoos. "We do not mate or bond with the tribes of the ones that made us."
"Yes." I relaxed. "I understand."
"So." Keekai adjusted her blankets again, pulling them up and over her shoulders. "There was a woman of his tribe, who was bearing her first. It did not go well, and the woman died. I think, in the end, she was given mercy.
"Keir was enraged, for a warrior-priest refused to use his magic to aid her." Keekai looked over my shoulder, staring into the past. "Marcus had him dragged off and restrained, lest he challenge every warrior-priest and die in trying to kill them all. Keir saw reason. Eventually. But he vowed to destroy them." Keekai stopped, and took a drink of kavage, then set the mug down. "Destroy them all." She shook her head. "His hatred blinds him to his danger. And yours."
"And Marcus?" I asked. "What did the warrior-priests do when he was injured?" She grimaced. "I was not there, but this truth I know, that it only added fuel to Keir's rage. Keir commanded Marcus to live, and Marcus obeyed."
"What is Marcus's tribe, Keekai?"
"Marcus has no tribe, Lara." Keekai's eyes were filled with sorrow. I sucked in my breath.
She nodded. "I did not think you truly understood what you did, choosing him as Guardian. Marcus is no longer of a tribe, no longer of the Plains."
I chewed my lower lip, trying to remember. "When I first met Marcus, he said that he was 'token-bearer and aide to the Warlord'."
Keekai's face grew grim. "That is all he is. If not for Keir's protection . . ."
"Marcus would die," I finished.
Keekai nodded. "Just so. By his own hand, like as not."
I stared into my kavage. "That is not right."
"Life on the Plains is hard." Her voice sounded so much like Marcus's, I lifted my head, almost expecting his eye to be glaring at me. But instead, Keekai's blue eyes blazed at me, sending shivers down my spine.
"Harder than you know," she continued. "For hear now the truth that the Elders know, and will not speak of. The People of the Plains are dying."
I sat upright, and sloshed my kavage in my lap. "Why?"
"We do not know why. Warriors in battle, that is to be expected. But there are more deaths during the snows, more women are dying in childbirth. Worse, our babes are dying without reason. Half the children born do not see the first true blades."
"Keekai, that's—" I swallowed hard. "Children do die, of fevers and accidents and the like, but not at that rate."
She nodded again, still grim. "None outside the Council know this, although I think that Keir has come to his own understanding of our plight. When he was named Warlord this spring, the lots awarded him Xy. He stood before all, the Elders and the Eldest, and announced that he would conquer Xy. With the intent of learning and absorbing their ways and knowledge." A grin flashed over her face, so much like Keir my heart skipped a beat. "So imagine their faces when word comes on the wind that Keir of the Cat had claimed a Warprize, one who holds a healing magic of her own. The news rolled like a storm over the Plains." Keekai's arm emerged from the blankets to sweep the air before her. I smiled back in answer to her grin, but then I remembered something that Keir had said. "Keekai, what is a 'Warking'?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Now, where would you have heard that word?" I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. Keir had said to trust her, but had I said too much? Regardless, the goats were out the gate now, and eating corn. "From Keir. He was ill and raving when he spoke the word." Even now I could see him, in my mind's eye, fighting the restraints and howling.'Fear the dayKeir of the Cat is named Warking!'
