Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology

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Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology Page 31

by Michelle Diener


  Shuree stiffened. “I thought I was your guest.”

  “You are.” Dagar sat next to her and handed her a bowl of curd. “You have Shuree to thank for sparing your husband’s life at the last raid,” he said to Narangerel. “She could have killed him, but she let him go instead.”

  Narangerel’s eyes widened and she reached across the table to squeeze Shuree’s hand. “Thank you! Your mercy means the world to me and my children.”

  Joy filled her. Here was the proof she’d made the right decision. “You are most welcome.”

  “If I may ask,” Narangerel said. “Why didn’t you kill him? They attacked you.”

  “Killing each other isn’t the answer,” she said. “I know each of the raiders will return to a camp like ours and their wives will celebrate their return. I’ve seen too often the heartbreak when someone doesn’t return.” Her chest squeezed as the image of her father’s mutilated body flashed before her. She swallowed. “I am Tribal Mother to my people,” she said. “And I am currently in charge of my tribe. My duty is to protect and nurture them anyway I can.”

  Understanding shone in Narangerel’s eyes. “If there’s anything I can do to help you bring peace, please tell me.”

  “Enough!” Batbayar said.

  Shuree ignored him. “Perhaps if there are others in your tribe who feel the way you do, it would help to voice those concerns to your khan. The more people who speak up about change, the better chance it will occur.”

  “I will speak to the other women. I know many feel the same as I do.” Narangerel glanced at her husband. “Sit down, Batbayar. I’ve told you I hate the fighting. If I can prevent it, I will.”

  The children had been silent until now, watching with wide eyes. Saran spoke up. “I would like you to stop fighting too, Father.”

  “Me too,” Naran said.

  Batbayar studied them both and his bluster deflated. “You talk about making us weak.”

  “It takes far more strength to lower your weapons and talk, than it does to swing a sabre,” Shuree said.

  He glared at her and she sipped her drink. If both the khan’s sons could be convinced, would they help her to convince the khan as well?

  Naran tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Does this mean they’ll stop eating babies?”

  Shuree laughed. “We don’t eat babies.”

  “My friend said you did.”

  “Well your friend is wrong,” Shuree told her. “The Saltar tribe is much like the Erseg tribe,” she said. “We live in yurts like you, we eat curd and dried meats, our young men wrestle like yours do. We simply live closer to the mountains and share our border with the country Bonam in the south which means we have more fertile ground. We grow crops in the summer and raise sheep. Our people are craftsmen, warriors, healers and teachers, just like yours.”

  “But women aren’t warriors and you said you fought Father.”

  “Most women aren’t warriors, but my father was khan and allowed me to learn. I have…” Her chest constricted and she corrected herself. “Had three brothers and I used to watch them train and wanted to learn. Finally I convinced them to teach me.” She smiled as she remembered the lessons. “I only fight when our camp is raided.” As would the other women she was teaching.

  “Can I learn to fight, Father?” Saran asked.

  He frowned. “There is no need.”

  “There might be if we don’t have peace,” Narangerel said. “Our girls are vulnerable during any attack.”

  Perhaps this was another way to convince him. “Two of our women were kidnapped during the last raid,” she pointed out. “When your daughters are older, that could easily be them.”

  He clenched his jaw and sat. “I would die before I would let anyone take my girls.”

  “That might be, but your death might not stop it from happening.” Was she pushing him too far? Surely he had to realise what could happen if the warfare continued. She glanced at Dagar and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Maybe this was why he’d brought her here.

  Narangerel sat back and stared at her husband with horror. “You allowed the men to kidnap women?”

  “I didn’t know about it until we got back to camp. Father is dealing with those responsible.”

  “Where are they now? We must set them free.”

  “They are already on their way back to my tribe,” Shuree said. “Ogodai agreed to free them and let us take our dead home to be properly buried.”

  “Good.” She glared at Batbayar. “I expect you to tell the warriors it is not acceptable. We might not have enough women, but that doesn’t excuse such behaviour.”

  Shuree sat forward. “Why don’t you have enough women?”

  Dagar stood. “It is time to meet with the khan.”

  Shuree ignored him and waited for Narangerel to answer. “Part of our agreement with the Tungat and Adhan tribes is to allow our young girls to be wedded to their young men.”

  “But surely you receive young women in return.”

  She shook her head. “Neither tribe has many women to spare. People say the gods realise we need warriors to fight, so they don’t gift us with many girls.”

  And the Saltar tribe had far more women than men. It was another negotiating point. If more marriages occurred between the tribes, it would make them less inclined to attack each other. Dagar walked around to her side of the table and she stood. “Thank you for breakfast, and for your time. I hope we meet again.”

  Narangerel smiled. “As do I.”

  Both Dagar and Batbayar accompanied her to the khan’s tent. Her mind whirled with what she could offer, not only the Erseg tribe, but the Tungat and Adhan as well. And if she could reach peace with them, could she reach out to the furthest tribes and also negotiate peace there?

  She entered the tent and froze. With the exception of an older woman sitting next to Ogodai, the rest of the people around the table were men, all of them armed. They turned to her and their conversation fell silent. On the other side of Ogodai sat a man with a circle tattoo under his right eye, the spiritual advisor.

  Nerves tickled her skin, but she relaxed her shoulders and bowed her head slightly. “Thank you for your time, Ogodai Khan.”

  He grunted and gestured for her to sit at the opposite end of the table. His sons sat on either side of her. Having Dagar next to her was a comfort. He might stop any rash actions from the suspicious elders. She must choose her words carefully, so as not to offend them. Half the men glared at her as if she was goat dung, though a couple gazed at her as if she was simply an oddity.

  The spiritual advisor spoke. “You gathered your dead?”

  “Yes, thank you for your permission, Khan. I sent Jambal’s wife and daughter home with the wagon, and our spiritual advisor will ensure they are properly buried.”

  “You say you buried our fallen,” the man continued.

  “That’s right. Erhi said the rites over them and we sent them on their way. I can show you where they are buried if they have family who wish to visit them.”

  “Why?” one man demanded.

  She frowned. “Why show you?”

  “Why bury them? We attacked you.”

  “You did, but these men were following the khan’s orders. I always hoped our men who died while fighting were given the same respect.”

  A couple of men glanced at each other but said nothing. She recognised the squinty-eyed one as the man who had had his pants down when she’d rescued Yesugen and Tegusken.

  “Thank you,” the spiritual advisor said. “I would like to visit their burial place.”

  “You are welcome to return with me when I go,” Shuree said.

  Ogodai raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were going?”

  She swallowed but kept her expression calm. “I am sure we can come up with an arrangement.”

  The understanding in the older woman’s eyes reminded Shuree of her grandmother. “I am sure you are right. My son is a reasonable man.” Ogodai glared at her, but she paid him n
o notice. It appeared it wasn’t just Narangerel who was tired of the fighting. Shuree relaxed further.

  “Would it help if I tell you what Saltar wants?” she asked. “You can decide whether you want the same.”

  Ogodai gestured for her to go ahead.

  “We want peace,” she said. “I want my tribe to live without fear of attack and for them to prosper. I want to have good, healthy relationships with our neighbouring tribes, and reach the stage where we willingly share information and skills so we can all grow and prosper together.”

  One man coughed. “Impossible.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “It will take trust, but if we all agree to it, then we can achieve it.” Men murmured to their neighbours. She was losing them. She needed to speak about concrete actions. “You want our harvest and we could do with stronger horses. We can trade, rather than fight for them.”

  One man nodded.

  “What about your women?” the squinty-eyed man spoke up.

  She stiffened. “Our women are not commodities to be traded,” she said. “I will never allow them to be forced.” She stared at him, and he looked away first. Exhaling, she turned her attention to Ogodai. “However, I can see the benefit of marriage between our tribes. I propose a yearly summer gathering. We can invite all tribes and we can mingle, hold competitions and get to know each other. If you can win the heart of one of our women, then marriage can be discussed.”

  “A gathering won’t work,” Ogodai said. “All it would take is one wrong word and fighting would ensue.”

  He was right. Sometimes it was difficult to stop fights amongst the young men in a single tribe. “Then we set rules,” Shuree said. “No weapons at the gathering place. If fights occur, they will be with fists not blades which will reduce the chance of death.”

  “What kind of competitions do you speak of?” Ogodai’s mother asked.

  “We have some amazing craftspeople,” she replied. “Our embroiderers and saddle makers can show their wares and people can vote on a winner. Perhaps we can have horse races and wrestling matches so our warriors can let off energy.”

  Ogodai’s mother nodded. “That is sensible.”

  “Who can guarantee such a thing?” Ogodai asked.

  “The khans,” she replied. “If we cannot control our tribe members, then we should not be in charge.”

  His face went red.

  Her mind spun with options, but perhaps she was letting herself get carried away. She hadn’t convinced the Erseg tribe of peace yet, but what if they could find peace for the whole of Rhora? She caught Ogodai’s eye. “This is bigger than our two tribes,” she said. “I know our allies to the east want the fighting to end. Perhaps we should gather all ten tribes to bring about peace to our land.”

  “Where would we meet?” someone asked.

  The spiritual advisor spoke. “I shall ask the Gods.”

  A wise idea.

  Ogodai finally spoke. “We have much to discuss. Dagar, take her back to her tent.”

  Surprise had her sit back. Had she said enough, or too much? She longed to keep pressing, but it would only get their backs up. She smiled at the khan before she left the tent with Dagar. His silent presence next to her soothed her. As they walked through the camp, a couple of men glared and put their hands on their sabres. “Will your tribe agree?” Shuree asked.

  He glanced at her, concern on his face. “I do not know. Will your brother comply with any agreement we make when he is khan?”

  Act confident. “I believe so, but the longer I take negotiating, the less faith he will have that I am safe.”

  Dagar nodded. “I will do what I can to see you back to your camp today.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled and his serious gaze captured hers, sending a zing through her body. Lowering her head, she ducked into her tent without another word.

  When she was sure she was alone, she put a hand to her heart. Now wasn’t the time to be attracted to anyone. She had to be focused, arrange peace for her people and not get emotionally involved with a man who could be her enemy.

  His courtesy and interest simply lined up with hers. They were trying to improve the lives of both their tribes, reaching for a common goal.

  She sat at the table, itching for some embroidery, or something to do with her hands, something which would keep her busy until the khan had made his decision.

  But there was nothing.

  She sighed and settled in for a long wait.

  Chapter 5

  It was mid-afternoon before Dagar returned. Shuree had tried to sleep, but Dagar’s question about her brother looped around her mind. Would Amar honour her agreement? She had to believe he would decide this was the best course, but seeing their father’s dismembered body might spur him to action. Hopefully, her brother was occupied burying the dead Yesugen and Tegusken had returned. Maybe Erhi or Nergui could talk some sense into him. If not, then she had at best another day before they would attack the Erseg.

  Her skin prickled. Please, ancestors, give him patience. Don’t let him ruin this.

  “Shuree?” Dagar’s call outside the tent was a welcome distraction. When she opened the door, the expression on his face gave nothing away.

  “Has the council decided?”

  He nodded. “Come with me.”

  Her chest tightened. This was it. As she walked back through the camp, her hands were clenched and she relaxed them. Whatever happened, she had done her best. She was proud of that.

  Ogodai’s tent was still full of the same people. She stood at the end of the table and inclined her head at the khan. Dagar stood next to her.

  “Your proposal has opened many old wounds,” Ogodai said. “We have lived in distrust of our southern neighbours for so long, it is difficult to overcome it.”

  She waited.

  “Many of my people believe your proposal is a trap, but more of them agree it is time to stop fighting.”

  Hope stole her breath and she met Ogodai’s grave expression. He wasn’t happy and the concern for his people was clear. She felt the same way.

  “So we agree to a temporary truce,” he said. “We feel it is best not to risk antagonising the other tribes by agreeing to peace with only the Saltar tribe. We believe your suggestion of gathering all ten khans together is the best outcome. Our spiritual advisor, Mengu has spoken with the Gods and they have proposed the Dragon Mountains as the meeting place as it is neutral ground, not part of any tribe. We will meet in the low meadow on the night of the full moon, two moons hence. Each khan may bring their spiritual advisor and five warriors. We must start slow, engender trust, before we meet in any large numbers. We will contact the Adhan and Tungat tribes and you will contact the tribes to the east. To the tribes to the far west, we will both send messengers.”

  Ogodai wasn’t after discussion. If she didn’t agree, they would refuse any further talks. Fortunately, it was a good proposal, though members of her tribe would argue it might leave them vulnerable to attack while the khan was gone. “Agreed. I will return to my tribe to inform them and then we will contact the other tribes. Should we perhaps send our messengers together to the tribes in the far west? That way they will see the truce is already working.”

  “A good suggestion,” Ogodai said. “I will send three riders as well as Dagar and our spiritual advisor with you.”

  She blinked in surprise, but pleasure filled her. Showing her people the Erseg were so similar to them would hopefully help them accept the proposal. “When do we leave?”

  “First light.”

  Would it be soon enough? But suggesting her brother might not obey her commands would lead to more distrust. She smiled. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  He scowled. “You will come to the communal dinner.”

  She wasn’t sure whether he disliked negotiating with a female, or whether it was because she was Saltar, but it didn’t matter. They were getting somewhere. “I would be honoured.”

  He glanced at his son. “Take her to th
e campfire.”

  Dagar took hold of her arm and his light touch sent a shiver through her. When they stepped outside, he asked, “Are you happy?”

  “I am optimistic,” she said. “We have a long way to go, and the other tribes may not agree with us, but it is a good start.” She glanced at him. “How do you feel about it?”

  “I am pleased. When will you send word to the tribes to the east?”

  She bit her lip. They only met with them once a year, and they had their gathering last moon. It would take time to reach them and she couldn’t send a simple messenger to them. It had to be someone who agreed with the gathering and who could convince them to come. “I will send some trusted men as soon as I return.” She wanted to go herself, but it would be wise to stay close to her brother.

  “My father has ordered me to stay by your side until we reach the gathering.”

  It was the only way to gain their trust, but she wished it didn’t send such a thrill through her.

  “And I will get you a better horse so you can keep up with us.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. Could my tribe have three more for the messengers I send to the eastern tribes?” They would be faster.

  “I will speak to Father about it.” Dagar stopped walking and faced her. “I told the khan about what happened to your father’s body.”

  She stiffened.

  “He will find out who did it and punish them. He has also spoken to those who kidnapped your women. They will not do it again.” His expression was fierce.

  “Thank you.” There would always be people who broke the law and as much as she wanted to demand vengeance, peace was more important.

  The communal campfire was on the south side of the camp. A number of people were already there, monitoring the sheep roasting on spits over the flames. Dagar introduced her to a small woman who had a grey streak through the front of her hair.

  The woman beamed at her. “Welcome, Tribal Mother. Narangerel told me what you proposed. You have given so many of us hope when we thought there was none.”

  Shuree’s heart filled. “Thank you. I am pleased others feel the same as I do.”

 

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