by T. A. White
“They’ve been with us the whole time.”
Shea froze, her eyes meeting his as her shocked expression gave way to a glare. “Last night?”
He nodded, his expression guarded.
“So, while we were in the water? After?”
His nod would have been called cautious on another man—a word not often applied to Fallon, a man who liked to use brute force and evidently had about as much sensitivity as a rock.
She rolled away from him, snatching the underwear that was lying beside them. She had to walk a few more steps for the breast band and pants. She donned each item with angry motions, mortification and outrage making her nudity a concern of the past.
Shea hunted for her shirt, turning in a circle to find it. With each passing moment that she couldn’t, her anger grew.
“Shea.”
She turned in a sharp motion to see Fallon dressed and holding her shirt out to her. She looked at it for a split second, wanting more than anything to throw it in his face—a face she had spent considerable time kissing last night where every man in his command could watch and comment—but not being able to, because his men were standing right there and she was wearing nothing but a thin scrap of cloth across her breasts and a pair of pants.
She grabbed it from him and yanked it over her head—her blue eyes spitting chips of ice at him as they appeared above the collar.
She turned and stalked off, her strides eating up the distance. Fallon finished dressing and was a silent presence at her back as they made their way along the soul tree’s thick branch. Caden took point while the other two positioned themselves at Fallon and Shea’s back.
“Why are you so upset?” Fallon asked.
Shea’s lip lifted on one side in a semi-snarl. She wished she was some great beast with the ability to breathe fire. It would perfectly punctuate what a stupid question that was.
“Not now.”
“Shea.”
Shea ignored him, continuing without sparing him a glance. She didn’t know what made her more upset, the fact that Fallon’s guards had been shadowing them the entire time when she thought they’d successfully left them behind, the fact that they’d probably overheard them last night when Shea had made no attempt to muffle her cries—something she at least tried to do in camp where the walls were canvas-thin. Or perhaps it was the fact that Fallon didn’t even know why that would upset her.
He took hold of her arm in a firm grip, drawing her up short. “Shea, don’t ignore me. Answer my question—why are you upset?”
She twisted her arm out of his grip in a move leftover from her training as a pathfinder. “I do not wish to discuss this now.” Her eyes went to the guards at their back.
His gaze followed hers. Understanding dawned on his face.
He got it. Good. Took him long enough. Shea spun and continued on, not looking at anyone as her strides ate up the ground. She made no attempt to move quietly, rather liking the heavy thunk of her feet hitting wood. It made a nice accompaniment to her anger.
She’d always been a private person, or as private as you could be when half your life was spent on the trail with other people. There wasn’t a lot of physical privacy to be had out in the wilds, but she managed for the most part. The thought that the Anateri had heard Fallon and Shea in the middle of sex, or even worse, that they had heard any of the conversation afterward was enough to send Shea’s blood boiling.
The worst part was she should have known better. Fallon hadn’t hidden the presence the Anateri had in his life. They went everywhere he did, but while in camp their presence wasn’t quite as apparent. They were rarely in Fallon and Shea’s quarters, and when they were out and about, they could easily be lumped in with the rest of the Trateri.
So yes, she was pissed at herself just as much as she was pissed at Fallon. It didn’t help that the conversation last night hadn’t had the outcome that she wanted, matters left unresolved. Again.
They were quiet on the journey through the twisting pathways of the treetop roads, Fallon content to let Shea have her way in this. The trip took a lot less time coming back than it had going, the two of them less willing to get distracted by the sights. They moved with purpose, and before long, the village came into view.
One of the elders waited on the branch leading into the village. He looked nearly as old as the tree behind him, his hair thin and pulled back in a dozen different braids. His face was wrinkled and gnarled like a tree, his skin almost the color of bark. His clothes were a bright splash of color, like the only flower in a meadow. He held a walking stick that he leaned on for balance.
“I see you showed your man our oasis,” the elder said to Shea, his eyes sharp and knowledgeable in that old face.
“Yes, I thought he would appreciate it at nighttime.”
“And what did you think of our little friends’ home?”
Fallon was respectful of the older man, but not so much that it wasn’t clear who was in charge. “I’ve never seen the like in all my travels. I will take the sight of your oasis at night to my grave.”
The elder gave a gap-toothed smile full of innuendo—something hard to do when he was missing more than one tooth. “That place has a reputation among our village. A lot of babies have been born nine months after their parents have taken a dip in that water and spent the night under the fairy lights. A child conceived there is said to be touched by the gods.”
Shea’s cheeks caught flame as the Anateri suddenly found anywhere else to look. Fallon’s eyes swung to hers, amusement in them. She hadn’t known that. The elder hadn’t bothered explaining that when he told her about the place last week. Why couldn’t he have explained that little myth? And why did he choose now to reveal it?
“Is that right?” Fallon’s arm slid around Shea’s shoulders and he tugged her into his side. “We would welcome such an occurrence.”
Shea’s gaze shot up, a warning in her eyes. They were in no way ready for a child. They hadn’t even finished settling their differences, too much was up in the air to even consider such a big step.
His face was thoughtful and considering as if the idea was not an unwelcome one. Shea’s eyes widened and she shook her head at him. Nope. Not happening. Not any time soon. Besides them as a couple not being ready, she doubted she was. Not for the responsibility that such a tiny existence presented.
Fallon had brought it up in passing before, and Shea had been content to let it go with minimal protest, thinking that it was some theoretical future child. If the look on Fallon’s face was anything to judge by, it was not quite so theoretical to him.
She made a note to bring up later the fact that she took an herbal supplement that made pregnancy very unlikely. It was a common herb in both the Highlands and Lowlands. All female pathfinders were taught how to recognize and prepare the herb to prevent pregnancy. Fallon might want children, but unless she stopped taking the herb, it wasn’t happening.
“Elder Eckbert is the one who requested we summon you, Fallon,” Caden said in a respectful tone of voice.
Fallon nodded and looked at the elder with a questioning look. “Is that right? What is it that you wish to speak with me about?”
Eckbert cackled. “It is, though if I’d known where you two were I would have delayed a few more hours.”
Shea shifted again, silently cursing the fact that she’d ever wanted to take Fallon to that oasis. If she’d known everybody in the Forest of the Giants was going to comment and speculate on her and Fallon’s whereabouts, she would have never given them anything to talk about.
“We’re here now. You might as well speak of your concern.”
“Very well.” Eckbert narrowed his eyes on Fallon. “My people tell me you’re taking fifty of our men.”
Shea stiffened at Fallon’s side, instantly on guard. The Trateri took honor very seriously. If you did anything to impinge on that honor, they reacted with decisive force, usually in the form of violence. While they had an odd respect for those who fought and
lost in battle, they had only loathing for those who signed and then broke a treaty. The consequences of such an action often resulted in complete destruction of the village. Any survivors would be enslaved and divvied out among the clans.
Eckbert’s village had already agreed to the treaty. If they tried to go back on their word, Shea feared what might happen to them.
“That is the number that was agreed upon when you signed the treaty. Are you saying that you’re unable to meet these terms?” Fallon’s voice was calm, not giving any hint to his thoughts.
Shea looked up at him in concern, noting the suddenly alertness on his face, like that of a wolf that had just scented prey. His body was tense where it touched hers. She liked these people and didn’t want to see them end, not when it was her stories that had led the Trateri to them.
His hold tightened on her and his eyes dropped to hers in warning. Her mouth thinned, but she kept her council. For now.
Eckbert waved his hand. “Bah, of course we can. That’s not the problem. I want to know why you’re not taking more of our hunters. I can easily give you double that.”
The response was met with a long silence. Fallon blinked at Eckbert in a rare moment of surprise. Caden and the other Anateri studied the other man with undisguised curiosity.
“This is an unusual request,” Fallon’s response was slow in coming. “I’m afraid you have me at a loss.”
Eckbert gave a grunt, sounding more like a crotchety old man. “Yes, I imagine so when you’re dealing with the land dwellers. You’d be hard-pressed to find an honest one among them. For the most part, we avoid them since we’ve had trouble with them in the past. Greedy lot, but none of them want to work for what they have.”
Fallon studied Eckbert, his expression calculating. Shea could almost hear the thoughts turning over in his head. “What is your reasoning behind offering me more men?”
“You take more men; they get to see the world. Maybe when they come home they bring wives.” The elder’s face turned crafty. “Maybe even Trateri wives.”
One of Fallon’s men choked, his laugh disguised as a cough.
Fallon nodded. Only someone who knew him well would be able to tell that the response amused him.
“I’m sure we can accommodate you. I will speak to my generals to find places for the extra men.”
The elder threw his arms out wide, the cane hanging down uselessly, “Aiie, that is outstanding.” He shuffled forward, his balance slightly wobbly without the cane. Fallon’s guards stiffened as the elder got close to Fallon and Shea, his hands lightly patting both of their faces.
“And you must come for dinner tomorrow night. We will throw a feast to celebrate. There will be much entertainment.”
He released Fallon and gestured forward several of his people, all women that Shea could tell. They giggled as they advanced, swarming toward Fallon and Shea.
Caden stepped forward, trying to use his body to usher the elder and the others back. “The Warlord is a busy man.” He was only half-successful. He managed to keep Fallon out of reach, but the women transferred their attention to Caden, who quickly found several pairs of hands patting his cheeks—and other portions of his anatomy.
“We’ll be there,” Shea volunteered, finding herself inordinately amused by how uncomfortable the attention was making Caden, a man who usually possessed confidence and a raw power that warned others of his danger. She looked up at Fallon pointedly. “Won’t we?”
Humor danced behind his eyes, before he broke her gaze and looked back at Eckbert and the women tittering every time one of them touched Caden. “We wouldn’t miss it.”
“Aiie, brilliant.” Eckbert clapped his hands and started shuffling back towards Fallon. Caden grabbed him and tried to steer him away.
“That’s enough. He gets it. You can’t just grab onto the Warlord whenever you want. There’s a protocol to these things.” Caden’s voice was irritated as he tried to keep from getting entangled in Eckbert and the other women’s affections again.
Shea bit back a laugh, finding the sight of the normally austere commander flustered too funny to resist.
Fallon leaned down, saying into her ear, “I think we best get going before Caden feels his only recourse is to draw his sword.”
Shea snickered and took the lead, skirting the women and Caden as Fallon chuckled and followed.
“Fallon, where are you going?” Caden asked, the faintest trace of outrage in his voice.
“You seem to have this well in hand,” Fallon called back.
“Fallon! Damn it, Fallon?” Caden tried to keep the women at arms distance with little success. There were just too many of them. Together they were bolder than they would have been if there had been just one or two. “Curse it, I’m not a damn toy. Let me go.”
By now Fallon and the other two guards were laughing outright at Caden’s struggles as the rest of them continued past.
“We should run. He’s going to be angry when he finally gets free.” Fallon grabbed Shea’s hand and took off. She followed, her unrestrained giggles making it difficult to keep up. Her humor in the situation lasted almost the entire trip down the tree.
*
Caden’s molesting by the village women and the clear unease of the Anateri as they began their descent down the tree—something only possible through the use of ropes and flimsy ladders—lifted Shea’s mood. Seeing hardened warriors pale-faced and wide-eyed when it came time to step out into nothing with only the promise of a sturdy rope in your hands to keep you from falling went a long way to restoring some of her dignity.
As soon as they set foot in camp again, Fallon withdrew, projecting the fierce warlord again. She hadn’t realized how relaxed he’d become in her presence until now. Shea knew it was inevitable. He’d been easy-going and comfortable on the trip down, but as they got closer she could tell he was mentally drawing on the mantle of his station. It was enough that he’d been willing to have their brief interlude.
They hadn’t even reached their tent when the new general approached, his eyes flicking to Shea and then away in dismissal.
“Fallon, I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
Fallon stopped, turning his attention to his general. Shea continued on. She had no interest in getting caught in their conversation. She had many things to think on. Though their climb down had been pleasant, it did nothing to solve any of the many problems they faced. She needed to reassess—figure out how she felt about things. Listening to the general, a man who clearly had no respect for her, would not make that an easy task.
“Shea, a minute, if you please,” Fallon said to her back.
Shea turned and looked at him, her eyebrow raising in question. He had a pleased expression on his face, like a smug feline. Her eyes narrowed on him. She didn’t like when he got that expression on his face. It usually meant he was going to convince her to do something she definitely didn’t want to do.
“Braden had a few questions about the beast board instituted by the Horse clan. He’d like to see if it’s feasible to implement such a board throughout the rest of the army.”
Braden’s face was neutral as he looked from Fallon to Shea, but Shea got the feeling that he was impatient over having Fallon’s focus split—that he’d have preferred if Fallon hadn’t called her back. It was a feeling Shea reciprocated.
“Yes, I had heard mention that some of the other clans might be interested in replicating what Clark and Charles created.”
“Why don’t you show him the board and discuss how it’s helped reduce casualties for the Wind Division?” Fallon’s face made it clear that wasn’t really a question.
Shea fixed him with an expression that warned him just how much she disliked this idea. She’d like nothing more than to not spend any extra time in the general’s company. He’d already made his distaste of her clear. She was perfectly happy to steer clear of him for as long as it took for him to head out to his next assignment.
“I’m sure your Telro
i has much better things to do than accompany me to the Wind Division’s tents,” Braden protested. “I’d hoped to speak to the creators and get more information on their methods. I’ve no doubt she would find such matters tedious and time-consuming.”
Shea restrained her snort, seeing no reason to stop him as his objection helped serve her own purposes, even if he had just cast her as some dimwit unable to pay attention. This, after she had rescued his ass from the mist.
“There you have it. I’m sure the general will be able to get on without me.” Shea gave them both a wide smile, prepared to excuse herself.
“Not so fast.” Fallon’s words had Shea heaving an internal sigh. She tried to tell him with her eyes to leave it, that she had better things to do even if she didn’t know what those things were. “Shea would be the perfect companion since she helped create it and would know more about it and its beasts than any other.”
Shea didn’t know about that. The board’s keeper would know more about the process and the way it was being used.
Fallon’s smile held just a slight edge of wickedness to it. “Furthermore, since she will be responsible for helping you implement a similar board within your own command and other divisions, it makes sense to have her accompany you today.”
Shea blinked and gave Fallon an appalled look. Since when? She didn’t remember any discussion regarding this before.
Braden’s face was guarded as he looked between Fallon’s implacable expression, the one that said he wasn’t going to be persuaded from his course, and Shea’s slightly horrified one. He proved he was not without brains when he nodded. “It would be my honor to have the Telroi accompany me.”
Shea gave him a smile that was little more than a baring of teeth as she grabbed Fallon’s thick bicep and gave him a tug.
“I would like a word with the Warlord before we go.”
Braden’s expression didn’t change a bit as she led a willing Fallon away, Caden and the other two guards watching with similar non-expressions on their face. No doubt each had their own thoughts on the sight of Fallon’s Telroi leading him off. Shea decided to ignore that as unimportant for the moment.