“It wasn’t the Westlander that died. The Lion’s last blow shattered the Monster’s skull. The crowd saw the Lion fall first, so, by all rights, the Seawardsman won, even though he was probably dead before he landed on top of Lord Gregory. The wager men tried to balk on payment of Gerard’s tickets, until they saw how large and formidable our clan is. It wasn’t easy getting Gerard’s prize. I had to threaten to harm them while we had them surrounded. I also had to remind them that we are not part of the human kingdoms, but are from the Giant’s lands. Most of the folk who bet last night don’t have the numbers we do, and aren’t getting paid at all. The whole place has turned into a boiling pot. It wouldn’t surprise me if the kingdom folk start killing each other over it.”
“But today is Summer’s Day,” Hyden said. “Today is the day all the people are supposed to celebrate peace and friendship.”
“Aye it is,” Harrap returned. “But the people of the kingdoms have long forgotten the ways of old, and the sacred oaths their ancestors swore here. It is sad, but it is not our concern. We are the Skyler Clan, and we are free. Only the king of the giants can command us. And that’s only because we live in the mountains they call their own. King Aldar doesn’t even presume to rule over our people, even though he has that right. As I said before, the men of the kingdoms have long forgotten what honor is all about.”
A short while later, Halden, the Eldest, patted his grandson’s back and wished him well. Hyden’s uncles, Condlin, Sharoo, Benald, and Pylen, all did the same. His grandfather’s brother,
Harren, mussed his hair as if he were still a little boy. Then Uncle Mahr, the clan’s spirit leader, said a prayer to the White Lady, their patron goddess. All of the Elders, and most of the women, would be watching him compete later. What little bit of pressure his father had lifted earlier had now been replaced tenfold.
Outside the crowded tent, where they were gathered, the younger clansmen waited patiently to add to it, all of them, except Gerard. This fact gnawed at Hyden more deeply with each passing hour.
After he spoke with his father, Hyden jogged past the shining black spire, down the southern Way to where Gerard had said Shaella and her party were encamped. The day was as perfect as a day could be. The sun was bright, and the sky was blue and clear, save for a few puffy white clouds drifting lazily. There was a cool and steady breeze coming from the west, carrying the fresh smell of the river’s swell, and the blooming foliage along its shoreline.
The people he passed, though, were visibly on edge. Untrusting eyes darted here and there suspiciously. Everyone was traveling in groups and they were all armed with some sort of weapon. All of the clumps of people moving about, were from the same families or kingdoms, and they tended to stick together, as if a stray would be swept away by some unseen magical stream.
The cheer and mirth of the previous day was gone. It was like a rain storm had washed away the joy and left a sticky film of worry and fear over everything. Some of the people seemed oblivious to the foul mood. Others scurried from shop, to cart, to tent, buying up things, as if it were the last day of the world. Hyden saw a few groups that were packing up their belongings to leave. Horses were hitched to waiting wagons, and pavilions were being rolled and stored for travel.
Hyden felt the tension hanging in the air, like the slow, sizzling sound of a knot in a fire log. Sooner or later, it would pop and send a shower of sparks swirling out of the pit. The embers might just burn themselves out, but something as simple as a breeze could cause them just as easily to flare into flame and burn a whole forest to the ground.
As he had expected, the Dakaneese woman’s camp was empty. Nothing but trampled grass and a few rock-ringed fire pits remained. The trail they left led southward. The nearest camp was far enough away that he didn’t even bother asking about the sudden departure of Shaella’s party as he passed it on his way back. Gerard was gone, chasing after his dreams. Hyden had to respect his brother’s determination, even if he didn’t like the fact that he had gone.
When he returned to the Skyler Clan’s area, he was ushered in before the Elders. The competition would be starting soon, and they too wanted to heap piles of pressure on his shoulders.
Hyden eventually left the crowded tent and emerged into another pack of his clansmen. They patted his back, wished him well, and offered little tidbits of advice and support. These were mostly tinged with the opinions of their parents and the older clansmen. Comments like: “Beat the skinny forest freaks,” or “Show those yellow-eyed devils what it’s about!”
Hyden knew that not one of the younger men, or boys, had been as close to an elf as he was yesterday at the Culling, yet they hated them just because the Elders did. They couldn’t have formed their opinions of their own accord. They were only repeating the things they had heard others say. It didn’t matter, Hyden decided. He smiled at them and thanked them, but his head and his heart were somewhere else. Hyden was trying not to let his worry over Gerard, or the pressure from his people, get the better of him. This day was too perfect of a day, and either win or lose, he was going to try and enjoy it.