Tieran’s eyes widened. “Me? No, I do not—”
“You are being the chieftain’s kin and must meet the challenge if our chieftain falls.”
“No, I told you and everyone else that I do not wish to be king.”
“Then you will be meeting the challenge as champion for the queen.”
“What queen?” said Tieran.
“Queen Frisha,” said Gurrell. “She is being the betrothed of the chieftain. As his kin, you must be standing for her.”
Frisha shook her head. “No, I’m not—”
His massive paw gripped her shoulder. He said, “And you will be training with us.”
Frisha’s heart jumped. “What? But, I am a woman, and you only have men!”
“Ha! Yes, this time the farwarriors are being only men. The women are being the protectors of our home while we are farwalking. Our women are the fiercest warriors. We do leave knowing our women will be fighting with the greatest strength and heart against any who do threaten our people. They are also having the strength of the other men who are not farwalking.”
Frisha wrung her hands anxiously. She had already tried training with Rezkin and had decided being a warrior was not for her. “So, your women are warriors, too? Do you have women chieftains?”
“No, our women do not be sharing in chieftain. The men are not to be fighting against our women. The women are being half of the council, and they do decide which women share in the council. The men are not being involved in this. The Viergnacht Tribe Mother is Auria.”
“Is she your wife?” said Frisha.
Gurrell laughed. “No, Auria is being Olfid’s wife. We are not kin. The women did choose her as tribe mother. After the chieftain wins a challenge, the council does vote to decide which will lead—chieftain or tribe mother. I was selected to be leader, and Auria is my second. While I am away, Auria is being leader.” He motioned over his shoulder to a dark-haired man with matching scars on each of his cheeks. “When I am with the farwarriors, Myerin is my second.”
Frisha hesitated to ask, but her curiosity would not be deterred. “So, if the council is unhappy with the way you are leading—”
“They will be voting for the tribe mother to lead. Auria is a good leader. Our new chieftain must be joining the council. They must know him to make the vote. I am defeated, and now Auria will lead. I will be her second while the chieftain is away. Once the council does vote, he may be leader.”
Inwardly cringing, Frisha said, “So, if the tribe mother does not have to be the chieftain’s wife, then why must I train to be a warrior?”
“You did say that King Rezkin is wanting for Cael to be a warrior kingdom. You are to be his queen. You must be a warrior queen.” Behind him, Myerin grumbled something in their native tongue, and Gurrell stroked his beard thoughtfully. He said, “You are thinking it is not good for you to be learning the fighting of men.”
Frisha was suddenly very pleased with Myerin. “Yes, it does not suit me.”
Gurrell nodded. “You are being right. The women of the mountains tribes do fight differently from the men. Myerin is knowing more of this. His three older sisters did use him for practice as he grew. One of his sisters is now on the council.”
Myerin grinned with pride and slapped his chest.
Gurrell said, “We will be waiting for you in the training grounds.”
The men filed out, and the space suddenly seemed to expand infinitely.
Frisha looked at Tieran who stared at her in defeat. “I’m sorry?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
Kai strode up beside Rezkin. “May I speak with you?”
The two paused to distance themselves from those ahead, and Jimson pulled the followers back to give them space to talk.
“What is it?” Rezkin said as they resumed walking.
Kai waited a moment and then switched to Leréshi since it was likely only Yserria, and possibly Farson, could understand them. Farson was out scouting, remaining hidden from the mercenaries, and Yserria was too far away to hear. Kai turned to Rezkin and said, “I know you have been confused.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Outworlders. I have been watching you for months now. Your mind is always churning. You observe everything. You think too much. You have been trying to figure them out—us out.” Rezkin nodded, and Kai continued. “What I do not understand is how you can be so confused when you were with the army for a year.”
Rezkin glanced at the others, his gaze lingering on Millins and Jimson. He said, “The army was not the outworld—at least, not in the greater sense. I was trained to understand the army, the regulations, its functions, its people. It was the same with the mercenaries. I was also informed of the kind of men with whom I would be engaging. I knew they would not follow the Rules because they were degenerates. I played a role, and they played theirs.”
“They were not playing roles,” said Kai.
“Perhaps not, but it was all the same to me. As I said, we never went near any settlements. The men lived, ate, slept, and fought together. They also died together. That was all there was. These outworlders,” he said with a nod over his shoulder, “they are not like the soldiers and mercenaries. They are strange to me, but I do understand one thing clearly. Farson is right. I am not one of them. I will never be one of them.”
“We are not all like them. You were trained by strikers. You are like us.”
“No, Kai. You are more like them than you think.”
“How is that?”
“You have ideals. You speak of good and evil as though they are measurable things. You believe in honor and hold it in high regard, whereas I have none.”
“That is untrue. You have spoken often of honoring your friends.”
“Only because it is Rule 1. If not for that, I would not bind myself in such a way. I would have dismissed them as irrelevant—and absurd. But, I must adhere to the Rules.”
Kai did not speak for several minutes. Rezkin watched as a kite swept the sky in lazy circles overhead, and his gaze shifted to the drifting grasses surrounding them. The mercenary company led the procession with one less member than the previous day. The severely injured man had succumbed to fever in the night. Wesson had berated Rezkin for not offering his healing services but had finally accepted his assertion that the man had been too far gone for help. It might have even been true.
The silence that loomed between the footfalls, tromp of hooves, and rickety creaking of the wagon at the front was eventually shattered by Kai’s gruff voice. “You have a sense of right and wrong. I have heard you speak at length about noble duty.”
“It is a role, Kai. If one is to play the noble, he must conduct himself by noble standards.”
“But you understand how those standards came to be. You must value them.”
“Only in that they provide structure to a society that would otherwise endure chaos. The outworlders accept them, so they must live by them. It is their own standard of Rules. When I play the part of the noble, I conduct myself as such. It is not who I am.”
“I do not believe you.”
“It is fact.”
“Oh, I believe that you believe what you are saying, but it is not the truth. I think you underestimate yourself and the connection you have with these people. If you are not the man you profess to be, then who are you?”
Before Rezkin could respond, Farson appeared at his side. “You are free with your words—last night and today. You reveal much. What has loosened your tongue?”
Rezkin ran a thumb along the warm metal of a knife he kept up his sleeve. He had done the same many times as a small-man to remind himself that words could be as dangerous as a blade. He watched the kite swoop in ever tightening circles. He wondered if the citadel’s power was still affecting him and shifted his focus to feel for the warmth of the small stone resting against his chest.