The warm light of the sun shimmered in the grass, still dew-dropped with morning's kiss. It was early, the tribe was just beginning to wake and move about, and the Warlord was probably preparing to ascend the pyramid mound to pray to Eguzki. The sun-god's face was bright that morning, warming them, glittering off the multi-hued backs of the horses that grazed just beyond the shelter of the longhouses. Esti moved among them, the Warlord's eldest daughter, her small hands touching, caressing each of the beasts as she passed. She knew all their names by heart, could tell by their hoofbeats and the sounds they made whether one was distressed, in labor, or danger was coming and warning the tribe to be cautious.

Peru, Bakar, Argider, Estebe. Esti's bare feet smoothed down the grass where they touched, the wetness of the dew drawing slick lines across her ankles and calves. Her long, black hair was plaited into a braid, hanging thickly down her back, and the brown linen tunic she wore draped loosely around her developing body, covering her to the mid-thigh. The sleeves had been pushed up to her elbows, and the slit that opened to be pulled over the head was untied, the strings dangling loosely over her small breasts, her pale skin just barely visible between the spread fabric.

Erlea, Igon, Koldobika, Martzel...

"There you are, my Haizea, my beautiful girl. Were you hiding?" Esti smiled as she approached her favorite mare, and the horse turned, snorting in response. The puff of air was visible in the lightly-chilly morning, dissipating as quickly as spring seemed to be. "Summer will soon be here," she murmured, resting her hands on Haizea's muzzle, running her fingers over the velvety nose, up over the horse's face, tracing her eyelashes gently, tangling in her forelock. The spotted mare nickered quietly, bumping Esti's stomach with her nose in search of treats.

"Now settle, my zaldi, you have plenty of grass to eat. I'm here to relax, can't you see?" With that, Esti flopped down in the grass, letting the dew soak the back of her tunic. The long grass tickled the backs of her thighs, and as she lay, completely unafraid of the stamping hooves around her, the horses moved around her in their own way, forming a protective circle around the girl in the grass. And Eguzki smiled.

Iñaki was supposed to be out hunting, but he had no desire to do anything to please his father. His back was still scabby from his lashing, and Mikel had laughed at him. They'd almost come to blows over it, but Peru had stepped in. Sometimes Iñaki though Peru's father was right; Peru was a bit of a follower, without much of a mind of his own--but he had to admit he'd proved differently this time. Still... why did he try to prove himself to anyone? Sometimes he just wished they'd save their judgment for Xanti. Perfect Xanti. Why did he get to rise above all of their judgment? Was it because he looked more impressive?

He strode off through the dew-soaked spring grass, trying to relax, taking deep drafts of warming air. He'd take a ride, venture far away from the Central Camp, that's what he would do.

The horses, though, stood huddled in a circle, and Iñaki's brows drew together. Was there a wounded animal in the middle of their circle? Sometimes they'd group to protect a fallen herd-mate. He pushed through, pressing against haunches and flanks, and saw--his little sister.

"Esti," he said, in tones of admonishment, "Why do you always feel the need to sun yourself in the middle of the grazing land?" But he was smiling, and felt himself relax. Esti at least wouldn't judge him. Even though she'd marry Xanti one day, she never took his side.

Esti glanced up at the snort of one of the horses, expecting an unwelcome bee sting or a nettle on it's nose, but saw instead her elder brother, Iñaki, standing over her. He had that look about him - always had - that look of mild curiosity and amusement. His familiar face was welcome against the backdrop of the horseflesh surrounding them, and Esti traced a pattern in the long grass, deftly braiding three strands between her thin fingers, before answering.

"For the same reason the horses do. It's peaceful, it's quiet. I can be among friends." Even though the dew against her back was cold and wet, the sun that splashed the planes of Esti's face warmed her. Soft color came to her cheeks as she shifted in the grass, enjoying the feel of the earth and Eguzki as much as she enjoyed the company of the horses and her favorite brother.

She twisted her head back to look at him, spilling her crow-black hair onto the grass. "Besides, I'm too pale. Not lovely enough for Xanti," she remarked bitterly, her black eyes glinting fiercely, lips drawing in for a quick biting. "I could use the sun. You could too, it might improve your mood. I heard about the lashing." Her tone was not of the sharp edged tongue she had used before, when Xanti came up - but a compassionate one. He was her brother. She hardly wanted him hurt.

"You may join me if you'd like, Iña. I'm sure you were on your way to avoiding father's wishes anyway."

Iñaki bit back a grin at her venom. It was always surprising coming from such a sweet-looking girl. And he had to roll his eyes at her inevitable shortening of his name. She had a penchant for diminutives. She even liked for people to call her 'Ti.' And it wasn't like 'Esti' was a mouthful. Impatient--that was Esti.

Iña! It sounded like a girl's name.

"Don't call me Iña, I'll start calling you Estibibi. Anyway.... you know Father--he's--" He shrugged. "It hurts, but nothing like the Sundance. I'll cope. Anyway, the others and I." She'd know who he was talking about. "We're planning a raid on the interlopers. So I'd best get used to a little pain." He lowered himself to the grass beside her and rolled over so he was lying on his stomach, not his sore back.

"Anyway, you're not too pale." He tweaked her ear. "You're nowhere near as bad as the interlopers." The thought of the interlopers made his stomach flip over. He had to admit he was a little scared for the raid. Just a little. But Xanti was doing it. And Father would think better of him after he'd killed a few interlopers.

Even though he was teasing, Esti felt a little stab of worry at the idea that one - both! - of her brothers was going off to fight the interlopers. Iñaki tweaked her ear and she giggled, resisting the urge to slap him on the back because she knew that he was still sore from his lashing. So instead she stuck her tongue out and squinted her eyes, making the face of a five-year old having a tantrum.

"I'll call you what I like, Iña. I am a Warlord's daughter," she said regally, propping herself up so the thick rope of her hair flopped on the grass behind her, coiled like a snake ready to strike. That was her personality - terse, impatient, coiled and waiting for her chance. The light shone over Iñaki favorably, highlighting his high cheekbones and brought out the lighter shades of his dark hair, coppers and cocoas coming out in vibrant shimmers.

People called Xanti impressive - that color, that poise? Iñaki was impressive in the right light. She hoped his future wife would realize. And strangely, Esti felt a little twist in the sinews of her heart - jealousy? She didn't want Xanti, that was known - but no, not this. It was... not right. Pushing the mere idea aside, she turned her gaze back to him, choosing her quiet words with care.

"I will be so afraid for my brother, when you go."

"I'm a Warlord's son." He made a face back, picking idly at a few pieces of grass. "Though there's some as would call me a daughter too."

He started to weave the bits of grass together into a little braid, watching his sister, who was watching him. He'd seen that look before; seen it from a great many women, in fact... but his little sister? Of course he was mistaken. There was no way, and besides, she'd marry Xanti. Unless, of course, something happened to Xanti, in which case she's marry, well, him. Why had he never thought of that before?

Because it wasn't important. Xanti wasn't the type to get himself killed. If anyone got his head handed to him on a platter in this upcoming raid, it'd be Iñaki.

"I will be so afraid for my brother, when you go."

He snorted, but the expression in his eyes was soft. "To be honest I don't think you'll be as afraid as I'll be, Estibibi." He tossed the little grass-braid at her, underscoring the teasing. "But you know Mikel. He'll follow Xanti to the ends of the earth, and so must I. How else will we become a real team of warriors like Father and his men? Eh!" He blew out an irritated breath. "Sometimes I don't see the point. If it weren't the interlopers it would've been the Ekaini. Why don't we leave it alone?"

They were a coward's words, but lying in a warm field, the pale spring sun warming his hair and sending Eguzki's languorous breath coursing through his limbs, he couldn't help but wish for peace, at whatever cost.

"Sometimes I don't see the point. If it weren't the interlopers it would've been the Ekaini. Why don't we leave it alone?"

At his words, Esti fell silent, not because she was a woman obeying a man's command, but because she was a little sister obeying her big brother's wishes. But just because she was silent didn't mean she was still. Wiggling in the grass, Esti shimmied onto her side so she could sit up, the sides and back of her tunic dotted with dewdrops that were quickly drying in the sunlight. Tearing a handful of grass from the ground, she sat with her legs out to the side, tunic pooling over her thighs.

"Yes, my brother Iñaki will be heap big warrior someday!" she teased, dropping the whole handful of grass a blade at a time onto his back, trailing a line from the top of his scalp down his spine so he was covered in the green shoots. Laughing merrily at her own playfulness, Esti brushed her hands clean and leaned forward on her elbows to be on his level. "And if the tribe thinks you're such a womanly son, then perhaps you should be the one married to Xanti! It would save me the -"

Esti broke off, because even though they were alone, saying the words out loud would be a form of treason in itself, punishable. Her eyes flicked back and forth across his face, knowing that in her teasing she had said too much, as she often did.

"Forget it!" Esti said, trying to wave off the subject with forced merriness. A wave of her hand, the weight of her braid on her back, a morning in the sun, and all that burden would be released.

Iñaki made a sour face and shook his head, feeling bits of grass sliding down his hair. Something about her jest rang a little too true. Was it the way he'd seen Xanti linger a little too long near the bathing-pool with the other young warriors? But no--that was ridiculous. He was only comradely. His brother nothing like those supernatural Ekaini with their men in women's bodies and women in men's bodies. He tried to shake off the remembered image of Lorea in the moonlit water. In his memory, she had Esti's face.

She was leaning a little too close to him, and he shoved himself up on his elbows, then sat, brushing grass off his back with one hand. It still hurt--there was hardly unscabbed portion of his back, and he'd been lazy with applying salve.

"Ow! That hurt." He didn't address her comment, which didn't really bear remarking upon. But why not. He was still a little angry at Xanti, a mote of resentment growing in his chest. He leaned forward again, resting his chin on his elbows, face-to-face with Esti. "You don't want to marry Xanti? He's a bit of an ass, but he's our ass. I think we'd better try to like him. Eguzki knows, we'll have to one day."

"Hurt? It was only grass, warrior-brother."

I didn't mean it; if the words never escaped her lips they were there, plain as day on Esti's face. She couldn't possibly have hurt her brother, he was braver, stronger. He was Iñaki. Even though he grumbled, he leaned on his elbows and lowered his face down to her level in a way that had haunted her dreams on moonless nights.

Iñaki spoke of Xanti, and inwardly, the Warlord's daughter shuddered at the thought of being wed to her eldest brother. Why? Was Eguzki punishing her for some sin? She'd committed none, so far as she could remember - except perhaps, for wishing. Esti was always wishing, always day-dreaming. It was the reason she was out here among the horses, again, down in the grass with her brother, her Iña, and a water-spotted tunic that hung loose about her body like the wind about the leaves.

"No, I don't," she said, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's not an ass, he's just stiff and dull and boring. Iña, I wish - oh, it's silly! - sometimes I wish you'd been born first. At least you and I, we're friends, right?" She smiled brightly, tilting her head in that peculiar way, just so, like a bird examining it's surroundings just before bursting into flight. Esti's voice was light and happy, but there was a part of her that needed the answer. Part of her needed him to agree.

He looked at her blankly for a moment, then pushed himself back and looked away. This was just too uncomfortable. A sister shouldn't talk to her brother like this--well, the distinction was a little nicer with the second son and first daughter of Warlord, but they told stories about this kind of things. Stories that usually ended in betrayal and murder.

"You're my arreba-orde,*" he said, keeping his eyes on his own knuckles. "Friends--never knew what that meant. My friends seem like my hunt-leaders, not comrades. And I do love Xanti. He's my brother--our brother--he's a much better man than I am." A light, rueful smile flickered across his lips. "You're lucky to have him. Eguzki forbid something happen to him--"

That should have gone unsaid. Damn it, what was wrong with him? Iñaki knew himself well enough to know he had a tendency to pursue romantic entanglements in the worst places imaginable, but thus far he'd avoided adultery and, well, incest.

"Sorry," he stammered, and actually bit his tongue, tasting the sourness of pain. "We're being ridiculous."


*stepsister

Iñaki shoved himself off the ground and away from her, and it was answer enough. So. She'd been wrong. The thought of what she'd just done - just suggested was excruciatingly embarrassing, but no good to get up and run now. She'd said it. Esti had gone and opened her mouth again, and though everyone kept telling her she was going to get herself in trouble one day, she'd never believed them. But this time, she'd really done it, hadn't she? Suppose Iñaki went off and told Xanti - or worse, her father - what she'd said?

Her head would rest on a pike before long if that happened.

Esti pushed herself up off the ground, wringing her braid between her hands as she listened to him extol Xanti's virtue. What was she to do now? She was helpless to protest, and he didn't even think of her as a friend, just the daughter of some other mother. Just a sister. Just Xanti's future bride. It took every muscle in her body to keep from protesting against her own inevitable destiny.

"We are?" she scoffed. "We? Because all I was doing was being honest with my anaia, and he doesn't even think of me as a friend or sister. An arreba-orde. Xanti's future arreba-emazte. Well, I am more!" Half of her wanted to spit in his face and run away, the other half to stay and beg and plead until he saw her as more. Until he saw her as Esti - a woman of the Zerui.

Iñaki felt his face twisting helplessly, and he reached forward to take his sister by her shoulders, drawing her close to him. Almost like a lover--he thought uncomfortably--but dropped the notion.

"You can't do this to me, Esti, by Eguzki's sacred blood, I swear to you--control yourself. It's hard enough knowing how you feel about Xanti. Don't you think I want to save you from that? But we're Zeru's children. We've got to do what Eguzki has chosen for us."

Or maybe... what if this strange attraction were present because Eguzki knew that Iñaki would one day become Warlord instead of his brother? No, that was impossible. He was only imagining some attraction because it flattered him. That was how it always was, with women. He thought of them as beautiful only when they liked him. He always joked about it, too. 'I like you because you have good taste in men.' How many times had he said that?

"Oh, Esti, it'll be all right." He pulled her closer to him in an embrace, breathing in the warm scent of her hair as he pillowed her head against his shoulder. "There are many ways to be happy. This is just a passing desire, just a whim."

"It's not Eguzki's blood!" she protested, even as he drew her close and her pulse fluttered in her throat. Once Esti's mind was set on an emotion - her stubborn misery, in this case - she was stuck in it. Her dark eyes glinted as she caught one last glance of his face, allowing her head to be lowered to his shoulder "It's our blood. Ours, Iñaki, that's the trouble. Damn Egu-"

She had almost said something very stupid, very blasphemous, and expecting a scolding, she tucked her face into the curve of his neck, squinting her eyes shut tight. Tension built up in her muscles, trembling in the lines of her back, the coiled strength of her limbs. But as she stayed there, tremulously clinging to the contact, her face turned into his tunic. He smelled of horses, sweet and calming, and underneath, the spicy scent that was Iñaki. Iña, her Iña; even though she knew he would one day go to some other woman's arms and she to Xanti's, she allowed herself the sinful thought.

Just for now.

"I'm trying to control myself, anaia. I am. But you hear what they call me - headstrong. Willful. I can no better control my desires than Haizea can control her urge to run and graze on the plains - Iñaki, you smell of horses." The last part was whispered, a shaky compliment at best, but one of the sweetest she could give. Iñaki would know that. He was her brother, her anaia. She loved him.

"Our blood is all Eguzki's," Iñaki said, sighing into her hair and patting her gently on the back, though he could feel how tense her muscles had become. "And I smell of horses because I'm always riding them." He gave her a squeeze, then drew back, looking at her sympathetically.

"Look, Esti, you're young still. I'm sure you'll... eh." He shook his head, sitting back on his heels and smiling a little. "There's plenty of time not to think about this, right? Who knows, we might all be dead within the year, if the interlopers decide to pull together a force and the Ekaini turn on us. You know, that's what old Unai is saying. He's saying they're getting up an alliance, that witch of a sister-wife of Ekain's and the interlopers."

The topic change was rather less than his best effort, but it was all he could manage at the moment. "Do you want to go for a ride, then? I was thinking about throwing stones at the peach trees."

"There's plenty of time not to think about this, right?"

Right. Not to think about it - or to let the tension grow until she went wild. For whenever someone said no, the voice in Esti's soul said yes. And his talk about the interlopers made her desperate for something to hold on to. Her father could go off to fight, her brothers could go... and if they all perished, what would be left for her? Her horses? The tribe? Who would take over?

But those were ridiculous thoughts. The word "sister-wife" rang in her ears and vibrated through her head like pounding drums. She could have vomited. To be Xanti's wife - to lie with him? The only solution to that was never to learn how to cook, for everyone knew the Warlord spent his nights with the woman who'd prepared him the best meal.

"Why would you want to throw stones at peach trees?"

Perhaps for target practice? But the trees would never become interlopers, just as peaches would never be butterflies and Iñaki would never be the eldest brother. Still, the more time spent with him, the better. And Esti did love to ride.

"Let's go for a ride, then," she relented, picking herself up off the ground and brushing stray bits of grass from her legs. It'd been warm recently, warm enough to forego breeches, and as Haizea came round to her side almost instinctively, Esti threw her braid over her shoulder and smiled. "Maybe it will help me to forget."

But as she gripped the mare's mane, clambering onto the horse's back with her tunic rumpled around her lithe legs, she silently vowed to make sure Iñaki wouldn't forget her. Ever.