Read Online Warcry by Elizabeth Vaughan - Free Book Online Page A

he could eat a haunch all by himself, and a few loaves of Anna’s good bread.
    Provided her bread was good. Anna’s cooking tended to sour when she was unhappy, and she was not happy about Atira’s role in Heath’s departure.
    But then again, it seemed that Atira was uncertain as to her place in Heath’s life.
    Well, one thing was sure. He’d seen the look in his son’s eyes, and he knew full well that Heath had lost his heart.
    Othur decided to concentrate on enjoying his broth. These things all tended to work themselves out one way or another, and worrying wouldn’t make anything happen any faster.
     
     
    “WHAT GIVES HER THE RIGHT TO TALK THAT WAY?” Atira demanded.
    They’d returned to the pines with little more than silent steps through dark halls and whispers to the palace guards. The only delay had been in the last room, the one that Heath claimed as his own. He’d paused, rummaging in one of the trunks, removing something that he’d bundled up and brought with him.
    The horses were resting undisturbed where they’d left them. Heath had filled a waterskin with cold water from a creek, and they had gurt and dried meat to share. The stars gave enough light to see by as they settled under the pines.
    “You ever see a warrior about to make a mistake, and care enough to stop them?” Heath asked.
    “Of course.” Atira took a drink from the waterskin.
    “Well, take that care and turn it into a herd of thundering horses, and you have a mother’s care. That’s what makes her think she has the right.”
    “Think?” Atira asked slyly.
    “My mother doesn’t decide how I live my life,” Heath said firmly. “I do.” He took the waterskin from her. “Clouds are moving in; it will be pitch dark in a few hours. We’ll bed down here and sleep until first light. With any luck, we can get back to camp before they’ve had their kavage.”
    Atira nodded. There was no sense risking the horses in the dark. She offered Heath her pouch of gurt, but he shook his head, so she tucked it back into her saddlebag. “What’s in that bundle that you brought from the castle?”
    “Something for tomorrow.” Heath stood. “I’ll get our bedrolls.”
    “We should share,” Atira stood, brushing pine needles from her trous. “For warmth.”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “No,” Heath repeated. “If you are not interested in a life with me, Atira of the Bear, then no, I am not going to let you string me along like a spare mount.” He appeared out of the darkness, and dropped the bedrolls at her feet.
    “I am not string—”
    “Yes, you are,” Heath said calmly. “I want a life with you, not just sharing .” He looked off in the direction of the castle. “I’d also forgotten . . .”
    Atira waited, but Heath just shook his head and knelt down to spread out his bedroll in silence. “Forgotten what?” she asked.
    For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he sighed. “I’d forgotten that once I was back in the city, I’d be expected to return to my duties. My responsibilities. Serving in the Guard. Aiding my father.” Heath frowned at the blankets in his hands. “There’s something going on in the castle and it’s my job to prevent it.”
    “The Warlord will protect the Warprize from any threat, as will all of his warriors,” Atira pointed out.
    “You’ll protect her from any threat you see,” Heath corrected her. “But it’s a very different world from the Plains, and I can detect unseen threats.”
    “Not so different,” Atira sighed. “The Council is sundered, and warrior fights warrior now.”
    “True enough,” Heath said. “Dangers all around, I fear.”
    “But for this night, we are safe enough,” Atira said. “We are off the path, and the horses will warn of any approach. No need to keep watch.”
    Heath nodded and unbuckled his sword-belt. Atira stepped closer and put her fingers on his. “We’re not within those walls, my city-dweller. And I am here . . .