“Yes,” Simus said. “But the more serious challengers will wait, watch, and approach when they think I am weary. Later this day.” He glanced over at her somber grey eyes. “But remember I control the pace. I can rest and renew between, as long as I don’t keep them standing overlong. The same is true for you.”
“Some don’t seem serious contenders,” Snowfall said.
“No,” Simus said. “Their goal is to wear me down for what is to come.”
“You can outlast them,” Snowfall said and it pleased him that there was no doubt in her voice.
“I can,” Simus confirmed. “I have been training and preparing for this day for seasons. I will win.”
Snowfall tilted her head. “Unless they get lucky.”
“Ah, but luck has always been on my side,” Simus grinned.
“That would be the arrogance,” Snowfall pointed out.
Simus laughed. “Sunset will prove me right. The serious contenders will challenge close to sunset. Then we shall see.” He paused, and frowned at the gurt in his hand. “Snowfall, make no move out there that would cause any to think you were using your magic. That would make things worse for both of us. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said.
He gave her a nod of approval, and started on some of the dried meat. He ate quietly, lost in his thoughts as he chewed. Snowfall wasn’t one for idle talk; she was quiet as well. The silence was comfortable and welcome.
Simus finished his food, and refilled his mug with water. “Snowfall,” he said. “If I die this afternoon—”
She jerked her head around to stare at him.
Simus held up a hand. “We must consider every possibility. If I die, all warriors will be released from their oaths. Yers will take what warriors he can gather and head to Xy. Yers may try to re-form the army, or Liam of the Deer will. Either way, I command you to use your powers and return to Wild Winds.”
“You will not die,” Snowfall said firmly.
“But if—” Simus started, but Snowfall held up her hand.
“And where is your arrogance now?” she asked, but then she bowed her head to him. “I will obey, Warlord.”
Satisfied, Simus finished his water, and stepped out into the sun.
Snowfall watched himleave the tent, and heard him greet his challenger. She stood there for a moment, listening to the sounds of combat, and tried to make sense of the man.
A warrior who declined to dance, but took the risk of using wooden weapons to a younger, stronger challenger.
A warrior who displayed such arrogance, and yet planned in the event of failure.
A warrior who expressed concern for her well-being even in the face of the hatred of his own people.
He was such a contradiction. Such a fascinating—
A shout from those gathered outside brought her back to her duties. She fetched more gurt, dried meat, and water. The rest of the food she told her helpers to eat. It would not go to waste.
And while she worked she considered her own truths.
There was something about his smile, the joy underneath it. It wasn’t wide-eyed foolishness. It was the strength of his convictions. Hope with the practical truth of reality woven in.
Yet she believed Simus could walk this path. Weaving the new with the old to aid all their peoples. But that made her pause, and frown.
When had that happened? When had their desires, their goals, woven into one pattern?
A cry went up from outside. He’d defeated another challenger. Snowfall allowed herself the smallest of smiles.
“Snowfall.” Tsor stuck his head within the tent. “You’ve another challenger.”