He shook his head.
“Wait a second,” Amar protested. “What gives you the right to give orders? I’m next in line.”
Shuree glared at him. “Father left me in charge until he returned. He is not back.” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard. “I am also Tribal Mother. Until we have time to arrange a ceremony, I make the decisions.” She glanced at Erhi. “Am I right?”
Erhi nodded.
“Then we need a ceremony in the morning,” Amar said. “We will discuss what to do about the Erseg afterwards.”
“We’re doing that now,” Shuree retorted. “Fighting is not the answer.”
“We have to get our people and our harvest back,” Amar protested.
“We can’t afford for anyone else to die.” She could see only one sensible option. Her pulse raced at the mere thought of what she was going to suggest, but the tiny nod the Erseg warrior had given her, gave her hope. “Tomorrow I will ride to the Erseg tribe to discuss matters. I will recover the bodies of our fallen and bring them back for burial and I will retrieve Jambal’s family.”
“They’re not going to do what you want because you ask nicely,” her brother snarled. “They’ll kill you.” Fear shone in his eyes, displacing his angry words.
She stared him down. “That may be so, but I must try something different. If I fail, you can choose to kill more of our men in a revenge attack and keep the circle of death spinning.” She glanced at the others around the table. “I will take a wagon for the bodies. I want the rest of you to prepare for their burial.”
“Do you think that is wise, Shuree?” Erhi asked.
She shook her head. “I know it is not, but we can’t continue to do the same thing and hope for a different outcome.”
“I don’t like it,” Amar said.
“I know, brother. But until Erhi confirms you as new khan, I am in charge. Does anyone else have any suggestions?”
They all shook their heads.
“Then we will go on as planned. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to our new widows.” She left the yurt. There hadn’t been as much argument as she’d expected. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who realised things couldn’t continue as they had been.
She exhaled and went into the tent of Altan who had lost her husband and her son to the fighting. Altan sat on the bed, hugging her fourteen-year-old daughter. The yurt was filled with a bitter cleansing smoke so the spirits of the deceased wouldn’t want to return and would instead travel into the sky to meet with Qadan, God of Life.
“I am so very sorry for your loss,” Shuree said.
They turned to her, the daughter a younger version of her mother and both with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Tribal Mother, this has to stop,” Altan said. “We keep losing our men.”
“I am going to talk to the Erseg tribe tomorrow. I will get their bodies back so we can have a proper burial.”
“They won’t listen. They’ll kill you, or keep you there.”
“Maybe.” She hugged Altan, who clung to her for a long moment. Altan’s daughter sniffed and threw her arms around them both. Shuree’s heart ached. “I have asked the council to prepare for the burial. The people will dig their graves tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Shuree. May Qadan ride with you.”
“If you need anything before I return, talk to Amar or Nergui.”
She jolted. Her grandmother. She hadn’t seen her yet and she had just lost her son and two grandsons. As a previous Tribal Mother, Nergui would understand Shuree’s commitments, but as soon as Shuree left Altan, she went straight to her grandmother’s yurt.
Her grandmother sat at the table, a mug in front of her, and her eyes red rimmed. “I hear you are going to talk to the Erseg.” The quaver in her voice brought tears to Shuree’s eyes.
She poured herself a drink, her hand shaking, spilling some of the mare’s milk.
“I am.” She sat next to Nergui and leaned into her as her grandmother stroked her arm. Hot tears ran silently down her face.
“I wish you safe travels,” Nergui murmured. “I admire your courage. My son should have never sought revenge.”
It didn’t matter. He had paid the price. Shuree’s body jerked as the tears took over, wrenching the pain from her body. She took deep breaths to control herself. She still had a job to do.
“Let it go, child,” her grandmother said. “We can both grieve here. The others can wait a few more minutes for you.”
Shuree buried her head in her grandmother’s chest and felt her own sobs as they both cried for all they had lost.
After she had cried herself dry, she sat up, wiping her face on her arm sleeve. She sipped her milk and when she was sure she could speak she said, “Should I not return, take care of Amar for me.”
Her grandmother nodded as she used her thumbs to wipe away her own tears. “I will.”
Shuree kissed her grandmother goodbye and continued to visit the bereaved families. In each yurt she heard the same words: things had to change, people were tired of losing their loved ones. Her sisters-in-law were particularly vocal. They had seven children between them. Shuree prayed talking with the Erseg would work.
She hesitated outside Gan’s yurt. She had never liked him, didn’t like the way he influenced Amar and had a lust for violence. But his father had died in the raid, and his mother might need comforting. She called out before entering and found Gan pacing the tent, his mother sobbing on the bed surrounded by her other children. Gan whirled to her.
“What is this goat dung I hear? You want to talk to the Erseg killers? They’re murderers, barbarians.” The hostility in his eyes almost made her step back. Instead she moved towards his mother, keeping an eye on him.
“Thirty-three men have died in the past two days,” she said. “We can’t afford to lose any more.”
Gan spouted vile expletives at her and his mother sat up, wiping her eyes. “You apologise to our Tribal Mother immediately!”
Gan glared at them both and stormed out of the tent without saying a word.
Shuree exhaled.
“I’m sorry, Shuree. He’s grieving,” his mother said.
“There is no need to apologise.” She hugged the woman and then her children. “I am so very sorry for your loss.”
“And I am sorry for yours.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Grief would consume their tribe if they let it.
It was late before she arrived back at her yurt. Amar sat at the table. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said. “You’ll be killed.” His voice broke and she swallowed hard as grief reared its ugly head again.
“I have to try something, Amar. We can’t keep fighting.”
“I’ll come with you with some of our warriors.”
She shook her head. “You can’t. Any sign of violence will cause them to attack. If I go, a female alone, they are more likely to listen before they attack.”
“I can’t lose you too.” He stood.
She hugged him. “I’m hoping you won’t, brother, but I need you to stay here to protect the tribe.” She hesitated and then exhaled. “I also need you to promise me one thing.”
He frowned. “What?”
“If I don’t return, you can’t attack the Erseg again. We need to recover, we need to find a replacement for our harvest and figure out how we will survive the winter. It is not the time to continue fighting.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
“You must.” She stepped back, shook his arms. “I go willingly, knowing I might not return. We need to ensure our tribe’s survival.”
“You ask too much of me.” The words sounded as if they were torn from his throat.
“I know. But our tribe needs strong leadership more than they need revenge. Every woman I spoke to is happy I am trying something different.”
He was silent for a long moment. “All right. I promise.”
Relief filled her. “Thank you. Now I need sleep if I am leaving early in the morning.”
&n
bsp; She kissed his cheek and went to her sleeping mat. A few minutes later, he extinguished the candle and the yurt fell dark.
“Sleep well, sister.”
She smiled. “You too, brother.”
Chapter 3
The sun was a hint on the horizon when Shuree gathered her bow and arrows, and her sabre to wear at her side. Amar joined her as she left the tent and they travelled across to the horses in silence. No one else was awake. Her muscles tightened as she fetched the wagon horse and hitched it up while her brother saddled two more horses for Yesugen and Tegusken. After she freed them, they could ride ahead and bring word to the tribe of Shuree’s success.
The land was taking shape in the sun’s early rays as they finished and Erhi approached them. “I have consulted with the Gods,” she said. “Qadan be with you.”
Some of Shuree’s tension lessened. It was more than her father had had. “Thank you, Erhi.” She hugged the older woman and then noticed Nergui coming their way. Shuree wanted to be gone before she had to say goodbye to too many people. She hugged her grandmother tightly. “I will return within a few days.” It would take longer to reach the tribe with the wagon and she wasn’t certain how long it would take to negotiate with the Erseg.
“May the ancestors ride with you.”
Shuree turned to her brother. “Take care of our people.”
“I will.” He hugged her hard. “Be safe, little dragon.”
She nodded and climbed into the wagon, trying to portray an image of confidence. The smooth leather reins were comforting in her hands, though the hard wagon seat was uncomfortable. With a flick of the reins, she was on her way. She didn’t look back, even though she knew it might be the last time she saw her family. She needed to be a vision of courage and strength.
But she prayed to Qadan she would return.
Late in the day, the Erseg camp loomed ahead of Shuree. From a distance, it looked exactly like her own camp, white yurts arranged in rows, with horses penned on the outskirts. Smoke wafted from the apex of the tents. Women would be preparing dinner for their families. So normal.
Shuree had had time to consider the best way of approaching them and decided to be upfront and honest. Guards stood at the edge of the camp and behind them people went about their daily business. She stopped her wagon in front of the nearest warrior, a middle-aged man with thick, muscled arms and legs and a derisive expression on his face.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
Smiling, she said, “I am Shuree from the Saltar tribe. I have come to gather the bodies of our dead and to retrieve the women you kidnapped.”
The man laughed and withdrew his sabre. “You and who else?”
“No one. I wish to negotiate with your khan.”
“He won’t want to speak to you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You presume to know the wishes of your khan? You must be very close to him.” Some of the tribe members watched her warily, others scanned the steppes behind her, and a teenaged boy ran further into the camp, possibly to fetch someone.
The guard glowered at her.
“Please direct me to his tent.” She flicked the reins to nudge the horse forward.
He grabbed the horse’s harness. “You’re not going anywhere.”
A woman’s scream split the air.
Shuree’s heart leapt. That was Jambal’s wife. She reacted before she could consider the consequences and leapt from the wagon, grabbing her sabre from her belt. The guard lifted his weapon and she swatted it aside and ran towards the yurt the scream had come from. She burst through the door to find a man towering over Jambal’s naked wife, his pants around his ankles, his pale hairy bottom facing Shuree. He spun at the interruption and Shuree shoved him back, getting between him and Yesugen and Tegusken who was cowering behind her mother. She raised her sabre. “These women are not yours.”
“Shuree!” Yesugen cried.
“Get dressed,” Shuree ordered, her eyes not leaving the man’s. “We’re going.”
The guard from outside stormed in brandishing his sabre.
“Lower your weapon,” Shuree said. “I want no trouble here. I have come for my people.”
Jambal’s family were on their feet behind her, Yesugen pulling on her dress.
“Then you should not have drawn your sabre,” the guard said. The other man picked up his weapon from across the room.
The guard stood between them and the door. She didn’t want to fight her way out. “Take us to your khan.”
“No.”
The door flew open and a tall man strode in, his dark eyes hauntingly familiar, the fresh scar on his cheek now healing. “What’s going on?”
Relief filled her. Perhaps he would help her. He knew she didn’t want violence. “My name is Shuree and I’m from the Saltar tribe. I wish to talk to your khan so I can take my people home.”
“She drew her weapon, Dagar” the guard complained. “She attacked us.”
“My friends screamed in fear.” She kept her gaze roaming over the men in the room. She was outnumbered. “I attacked no one, simply stopped him from hurting another man’s wife.”
“Put your pants on,” Dagar growled at the man who had attacked Yesugen. “The khan will speak with you later.”
The man looked a little worried as he dressed.
Dagar turned his attention to Shuree. “I can take you to the khan. Leave your sabre on the table.”
She hesitated. “Do you swear by Qadan to offer us safe passage until I have spoken to the khan?”
“I swear.”
Hopefully her mercy the other day would offer her some protection.
She lay her sabre on the table and took Yesugen’s and Tegusken’s hands. “Show us the way.”
“Go back to your post,” Dagar said to the guard. “See that her wagon doesn’t get misplaced.”
Shuree nodded her thanks and followed Dagar out of the tent. He was silent as he led them through the camp, the shadows drawing long as the sun sank towards the horizon. Tribesmen, and the occasional woman, stopped to watch them, word having spread about her arrival. Yesugen’s hand trembled in hers and Tegusken sobbed quietly. “Be brave,” Shuree whispered. “Jambal has been frantic and I hope you will be home to him tomorrow.”
“Are they coming to free us?” she whispered.
“No. I will free you.”
Nearby some young men stood in a circle cheering around two grappling wrestlers. Just like the young men did back home.
Dagar stopped outside a large yurt in the centre of the camp and pushed open the flap. “Ogodai Khan, you have a visitor.” He gestured for them to enter. “This is Shuree from the Saltar tribe. She wishes to speak to you.”
Ogodai turned to her. He was a large man, tall and lean, but muscled like a sleek scout horse. His dark hair was tied in a top knot and he wore the tunic and pants of their people, yet his dark cloth was of an excellent, more refined quality. “Are you here to beg for mercy?”
Her muscles tightened as chills raced along her skin. “I am here to put an end to the endless fighting between our tribes.”
He laughed. “They send a woman to do a khan’s job?”
She straightened her spine. “Our khan left me in charge until he returned, when he attempted to retake the things you stole. He did not return.”
Ogodai’s eyes widened.
“So I am khan until an official ceremony can be performed. As such, I wish to negotiate with you, and end our hostility.”
“What can you possibly offer us?” Ogodai said. “We have your harvest and your women.”
This was her only chance. If she couldn’t convince him, her people were doomed. “Peace,” she said. “Access to our harvest every year and perhaps more, depending on what you want.”
He laughed again. “It seems the Saltar tribe is on the verge of capitulating. Do you not have enough men left to fight?”
“Our women are tired of burying their loved ones as I’m sure are yours.” She straight
ened her spine and kept her voice steady. “There is a better way of living which doesn’t require constant fear and vigilance.”
Dagar shifted, his expression speculative.
The khan yawned and glanced at his nails. “No. You can join the other women as wives for my men.”
Shuree’s skin crawled. She would have to get past Dagar to leave the yurt and there were no weapons within easy reach. Talking was her best option. She heard Yul’s voice in her head. “You can do this, little dragon.” She stared at the khan, daring him to back down. “I will have what I came for—these women and the bodies of our dead, so that we can send them to the afterlife.”
“And what of my men who died raiding your camp?” Ogodai demanded. “They received no such send off.”
“They did,” Shuree corrected him. “I had them buried north of our camp, facing your land. Our spiritual advisor said the rites. They shouldn’t be damned for eternity for following your orders to attack.”
Ogodai gaped at her and another man rushed into the tent—the man whose life she spared.
“Father, what’s going on?”
The khan’s son! Hope filled her as Shuree smiled. “We meet again.”
His eyes widened. “You!”
“You know this woman?” Ogodai asked.
The man looked between his father and Dagar. “I fought her during the raid.”
“And yet she survived?”
Shuree waited for him to confess. To be beaten by a woman would lose him status.
He glanced at her. “You called the retreat.”
“My khan, Shuree bested my brother. She could have killed him, but she spared his life, told him to leave and not return,” Dagar said.
He was the khan’s son as well? Perhaps she could reason with them.
“This small thing?” Ogodai was horrified.
“I am a warrior as well as a woman,” Shuree said. “Though I do not enjoy killing, I will in order to save my people. There was no need to murder your son when you were retreating.”
He pressed his lips together. “We owe you a life,” he said. “Choose one woman to take with you.”
She shook her head. “I will take both women and my dead,” she said. “Or I shall tell all who will listen that I bested the khan’s son.”
Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology Page 29