Warprize

I’d done so in the same garb I’d worn for the original claiming ceremony. Since tradition required that the Warprize accept nothing except from the hand of the Warlord, I had walked barefoot behind the army for some time before Keir had discovered what I was doing and reclaimed me. Following my Warlord, challenging his decision, had been the best choice, both for us and for our peoples. Choosing to walk barefoot had not been quite so clever.
    Joden, in training as a Singer, said that by choosing to honor the traditions of the Plains, I had made a powerful statement, one that would ring in the songs he was crafting. Marcus had arched his one eyebrow over his remaining eye, and inquired if the fact that my feet had sickened afterwards would in the first verse or the second.
    I straightened slowly, craning my neck to look around, careful not to disturb the horse this time. We were at the center of the Firelander Army, returning to the Plains. Not that Keir’s people called themselves ‘
    Firelanders’. That was a term my people used. They used ‘of the Plains’ which sounded awkward to my ears. In my thoughts, at least, they remained the Firelanders. Of course, I no longer add ’cursed‘ or ’evil‘
    or thought that they belched fire. I still had hopes of seeing a blue one, though. There were brown ones, and black ones, and some even had a yellow tinge to their skin. Who knew what wonders awaited me on the Plains?
    Marcu and I were surrounded by horses and riders, which spilled out beyond the road as we moved. Keir had ordered that I travel at the center of this moving mass of warriors and horses. Even so, I knew that my guards would not be far away. Rafe and Prest were ahead of us. “Rafe!”
    Marcus jerked his head beneath his cloak, and muttered.
    Fall was upon us, but the day was fine, and the sun warm on our backs. Regardless, Marcus rode cloaked, wrapped well lest the skies be offended by his scars. Yet another aspect of these people that I didn’t understand.
    Rafe turned and waved, and he and Prest slowed their mounts so that we could catch up with them. Marcus grumbled, but maneuvered his mount between them.
    “Rafe, see that plant?” I tried to point it out to him as we moved.
    “Plant?” Rafe looked in confusion at the ground. “Warprize…”
    “The pale one; the one that looks like moss, but its butter-colored.”
    Rafe shrugged. “Wouldn’t it be easier to pick it yourself?”
    I rolled my eyes in frustration. “Marcus won’t stop!”
    Rafe let his laughter ring out, then Prest reached over and grabbed the halter of our horse. Marcus exclaimed bitterly, but Prest guided us out of the crush, and off to the side where he pulled the horses to a stop.
    I started to wiggle off, but Marcus would have none of it. “You are to stay off those feet, you are.”
    “Marcus-”
    Rafe swung down off his horse. “Point it out to me, Warprize and I’ll get you handfuls.”
    Epor and Isdra came up besides us. “Problem?” Isdra asked.
    “Herself wants to be picking weeds.” Marcus grumbled.
    “Bloodmoss.” I corrected him. “That’s the one, Rafe. Let me see.”
    Epor snickered slightly as Rafe bent to the task of getting the plants. I noticed that Isdra gave him an amused look and reached over to nudge his leg. He caught her hand, and raised it to his lips. I look away, embarrassed at such a display.
    Rafe held up a handful of leaves and plants, their torn roots tangling. “Which one, Warprize?”
    I heard a pounding of hooves behind us, even as I reached for the plants. Marcus heaved a sigh. “That’ll be the youn-gin‘.”
    It was Gils, all right, riding his horse at breakneck speed along the army, grinning like a madman. It cheered me to see his simple pleasure in racing his horse like the wind. Marcus grumbled, bu the others smiled and made room as Gils galloped to my side.
    “Cadr came to see me, Warprize! To ask for help with a bad boil.” He smiled broadly at me, his curly red hair dancing in the breeze, his words spilling out. “I told him that I would ask you, that I had to consult with my Master.”
    I grinned back at him, the young Firelander that had declared himself my apprentice. While Keir had decreed that he had to keep his place as a warrior for now, his secondary duties were to act as my helper. At least until we reached the Heart of the Plains. I’d used every spare minute to give him lessons.
    “Good. With any luck I can show you how to lance it. But first,