“Elder Gala.” Shea inclined her head to the other woman.
The girl child, Mist, let go of Shea’s hand and ran to Gala. She danced around in front of her while holding up the bracelet for the other woman to see.
Gala bent down and made the appropriate sounds of appreciation. “That’s a fine bracelet you have there.” Gala looked up at Shea. “One would even say the giver was very generous.”
Shea looked away and gave a shrug.
Gala stood up and observed Shea with canny eyes. The kind that saw right through a person down to their very core. Shea had never been very fond of people who could do that. There were too many things she wanted to keep to herself, keep hidden.
“I’ve got to get going. My event starts soon,” Shea said, giving an excuse for her hurry that also happened to be true.
“Yes, you and the other two responsible for the beast board are in charge of the hunt, if I recall.”
“That is right.” Shea didn’t ask how Gala knew. The other woman struck Shea as the sort to know everything about everyone around her.
“That is an unusual honor to be given to a group so young and untested.”
So Shea had gathered. It made her wonder just why her little team had been chosen.
“I will walk with you as far as your staging area,” Gala said. Before Shea could protest, she looked down at Mist. “Shall we?”
The little girl nodded enthusiastically before looking at Shea with bright, excited eyes. Shea didn’t have it in her to deny that face.
She mustered an uneasy smile for the two, then turned and set off, keeping her pace slow so her companions could keep up. Mist rambled in front of them as Gala walked with a measured pace beside Shea.
“You have not attended the last two sharies,” Gala observed.
A sharie was a meeting attended by many of the elders in the clans. Usually each clan held their own sharie every month. She’d made it a point to be busy doing something else the last few times one had been called.
“Yes, I’ve been very busy of late with the Hawkvale’s return and planning for this event.”
Gala gave her a sideways look that said she knew exactly how much of an excuse that was. “When I was your age, I also found it difficult to attend the sharie as well. So many people looking to me for answers when I had none.”
Shea felt a tinge of surprise. “I thought most who attended were elders.”
That was what she had seen. She was the youngest by several decades in those gatherings.
Gala made a sound of agreement. “I was like you, the Telroi to a powerful man. Do you know the purpose of a sharie?”
Shea thought a moment. “To share your grievances in a neutral setting.”
“That is one purpose. The other is to have our grievances heard by our leaders.”
“How is that? I’ve never seen the Hawkvale attend one.”
Gala gave a graceful nod. “In the past, he would send one of his top advisors to hear our complaints.”
“Daere?”
A smile tugged at Gala’s lips as she confirmed Shea’s guess. “Indeed. We may not speak to him directly, but he ensures that our voices are heard and acknowledged in one way or the other.”
They walked several more feet in silence.
“And my presence helps with that?” Shea didn’t see how. Fallon hadn’t even been in the camp for the few sessions she attended. There was no possibility that she would have conveyed their messages to him. “How?”
“Every person in our clans contributes to its overall well-being and the greater Trateri people as a whole. We each have our role to play. The warriors, the craftsmen, the healers and hunters. Without just one of these roles, our society would collapse.”
Shea could see that. Highlanders had similar roles, though they assigned worth to those roles. Merchants, and those that grew and harvested food, were often at the bottom of that tier. She still didn’t see what that had to do with the sharie.
“I have found throughout my many years that a person needs to feel valued for their contributions. To do otherwise breeds resentment. That has no place in a clan. Those little feelings can grow into big ones that threaten a clan’s safety and well-being.”
“I understand. My people have a similar view.”
“Would that be the pathfinders?”
Shea nodded. “The Highlanders have a similar structure to their society, but they often look down on those they see as performing less meaningful roles. There is often a schism in such instances. However, one village’s ways are different than another’s.”
They were as varied in their beliefs and society as the Lowlanders. Perhaps more so because of the inherent isolation of the Highlands.
“I would find it interesting to visit with some of these Highland villages.”
Shea didn’t know about that. While she called the Highlands home, its people were hard and unwelcoming to strangers of any type.
“They see me as an extension of the Hawkvale,” Shea said, trying to understand the meaning behind Gala’s words.
“Very good. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”
They’d arrived to where Shea’s friends had set up their event. Clark waved at her frantically from the outside of a large crowd.
“You should join your friends. The young one looks like he might burst out of his skin any moment,” Gala said.
Shea looked at them and then back at Gala. She wanted to continue this conversation.
“We will talk later.” Shea made the phrase an order rather than a question.
Gala inclined her head.
Shea turned to go and stopped when there was a tug on her pants. She looked down to find Mist standing behind her looking up at her with a worried expression.
“No sweetie, you can’t come with me.”
“Mist, stay here with Grandma Gala for now.” Gala looked down at her with a kind expression.
Mist frowned unhappily but let go of Shea’s pants. Her shoulders drooped as she wandered back to Gala.
Shea gave her a small wave before turning and heading for Clark.
“Are you ready for this?” Clark asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
He laughed. “Not at this point.”
“Then I guess I’m ready.”
Charles stepped up and waved for attention. “Excuse me. Excuse me, can I have your attention?”
The gathered Trateri continued to speak among themselves. Only a few noticed Charles’s attempt at getting their attention and even those went back to their conversations when it was apparent the rest wouldn’t quiet.
“Oi, the game master has spoken. Shut your gobs and pay attention.” Trenton’s shout made Shea jump.
Charles cleared his throat and nodded an acknowledgement of Trenton’s help. Trenton stood back and folded his arms across his chest to fix the rest of the crowd with a glare. Faced with the wrath of one of Fallon’s Anateri, the group quieted and turned their attention to Charles.
“Yes, well. Let me explain the rules. See the three white squares drawn on the ground. You’ll be placed into one of those depending on how many answers to a set of questions you get right.”
A set of hands went up. Their owners spoke before they could be called on. “Who decides the questions?”