“No one is questioning your prowess with a weapon, Fallon. These people are unknown. Let one of us go first to test our footing before you come in,” Darius said, frustration in his voice. “There’s no need to take unnecessary risks.”
“I’ve already met with the headman. If they’d wanted to kill us, they could have done so yesterday morning when there were fewer of us. Sending in a guard first makes us look weak—like we fear them when we don’t. I cannot afford to look weak before them or anyone else.”
Darius looked at Caden for confirmation on the first statement. Caden hesitated before giving a quick nod. A storm began gathering on Darius’s face. “What were you doing up here with so few guards last night? Because I know damn well that Caden and the rest were down below getting some rest.”
Fallon’s jaw ticked as he met Darius’s glare with a fierce one of his own. Shea stood very still not wanting to draw Darius’s wrath. She hadn’t taken into consideration Fallon’s position or the potential danger to him when she’d dragged him up here last night.
Darius didn’t need anyone to confirm who was at fault, his gaze swinging to take in the uncomfortable expression on her face. He swore and shook his head. “You’re going to get him killed.”
“Enough,” Fallon snapped. “I’ve lasted this long without a problem. We were in little danger last night.”
“That was before, Fallon,” Darius snapped back, not cowed by Fallon’s anger. “Before you went and united the clans and pissed off a lot of people. By the gods, Caden tells me you’ve had three assassination attempts in the last week.”
Shea jolted forward. What was this? “What are you talking about?”
Darius’s attention swung to Shea—for a brief moment he looked like a bull about to charge. “Maybe you should have considered that before you dragged him out of the protection of the camp.”
“What are you talking about? What assassination attempts? I thought those were done.”
“Enough, we’re not talking about this anymore.” Fallon’s voice was a cold snap of winter.
“Fallon!” Shea protested.
“No, enough.” He gave her a fierce warning glare, one strong enough to freeze the words on her tongue. His gaze moved slightly to the side. She snapped her mouth close. Van and Chirron watched the proceedings with a fascination that made her feel dirty, like she’d done something wrong.
She gave Fallon a nod, saying she understood. The warning look she gave him said that this would be one more thing they talked about later.
“Caden should go first,” Shea blurted.
Caden and Darius looked at her in surprise.
“He’s the captain of your Anateri. It makes sense that he would proceed you. They’ll see it as an honor, not as an insult,” she said in belated explanation.
Fallon didn’t look happy as he watched her. Her eyes went everywhere but his as she waited for a rebuke or to have her suggestion overridden. If he pushed her suggestion aside, he’d be undercutting her in front of potential enemies and hinder any progress she’d made. The expression on his face said he knew it too and wasn’t happy about it.
He jerked his chin down once in a nod that still managed to be an order.
Caden gave her a considering glance before he took off, tilting his head down in an almost bow before he strode across the rope bridge. It swayed under his feet.
Fallon waited beside her in a thunderous silence as they watched Caden greet the headman. It was only a few moments before he gave the signal for Fallon and the rest of them to approach.
Fallon went first. Then it was Shea’s and her guards’ turn. She took a deep breath before following Fallon’s broad back. She looked past him to where Caden and the villagers waited, decked out in their best finery, much as the Trateri were. The generals followed her, then the clan heads, and Daere. Witt and the rest of the guards brought up the rear.
Eckbert stepped forward and gestured, several women breaking from the crowd to step forward with necklaces of brightly colored flowers.
“Welcome, friends. Welcome,” Eckbert said giving them a wide grin.
Shea ducked her head and accepted the flower necklace with a smile, murmuring a thank-you to the young girl who’d placed it around her neck.
“What’s this?” Chirron asked, picking up the braided flowers and examining them closely.
“It’s tradition for the village to greet their guests with the mbel. It’s a sign of their esteem.”
“I wonder if these have any medicinal properties,” he muttered, rubbing a petal between his thumb and forefinger.
Shea’s mouth opened and then closed. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask one of the villagers. They’re familiar with the flora around here and could tell you more about its properties.” She thought a moment then volunteered, “I do know that the bark of the soul tree when brewed at a high temperature can calm a cough.”
She had personal experience with that treatment having had to sit through a few cups after she’d contracted a particularly nasty cough while visiting the area previously.
Chirron’s eyes brightened as he looked at the tree trunk. “I wonder what temperature the water needs to be to achieve the best results, or if the treatment could be replicated in a paste.”
Shea shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I’m sure Eckbert will be more than happy to introduce you to their healer.”
“I’d greatly appreciate that,” Chirron said. The expression he bestowed on her was full of eager anticipation.
“Careful, Chirron. Your tendency to lose yourself in inconsequential things has begun to show again,” Van said, clapping the other man on the shoulder.
Unlike the rest of them, he was not wearing one of the mbel. Shea looked back at the girl who had been the one to approach him. She was staring at the ground as several other women gathered around her and talked in hushed voices while shooting quick glances in Van’s direction.
“A new method to treat a cough or fever is never inconsequential, Lion.” The earlier anticipation in Chirron’s gaze had disappeared, leaving him with a calm expression that bordered on serene patience.
“I’ll be honest; I’m more interested in what kind of warriors they can contribute to our armies. You can treat as many coughs as you like; it’ll never win us the war.” Van’s gaze was assessing as he took in those who had gathered to welcome them to Airabel. “Though from the sight of this lot, I’m willing to bet the pickings will be slim.”
Chirron’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but he didn’t react in any other manner.
“I imagine a treatment for the fever one gets from an infected battle wound would be worth its weight in gold, if it had the ability to restore soldiers to the ranks, when otherwise they’d be consigned to the grave,” Shea said before she could stop herself. Once the words were out, she was committed, and she met his gaze with an impassive one of her own.
Daere turned her body so she was half facing away, saying so only Shea could hear. “Well said. Now don’t push him any further. You’re not the one who will pay the price for his anger.” Daere’s eyes slid to the girl being led away by the other women.