“Then why do you keep them alive?” She didn’t understand it. He was the Warlord. An all-powerful conqueror genuinely loved by his soldiers. If he didn’t want them in power, why didn’t he do something about it?
“Because we need stability. As much as I dislike the majority of the clan leaders, they fill a useful role. Most genuinely care for their people and want the best. Without them, the clans could splinter more than even I could control.”
“So, you let them plot against you?”
“Yes, I let them plot, until their scheming presents an actual danger.”
“And meanwhile they’re free to go around putting others at risk, including Clark,” Shea shot back, her eyes spitting fire.
“What would you have me do, Shea? Kill all those I suspect of disloyalty. Become the monster your pathfinders see me as?”
Shea was brought up short. No, that wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all. It made her hesitate. There had to be some happy medium. A way to protect those they cared about without becoming merciless beasts.
Fallon sighed. “You are partially correct. I did let some of those troublesome elements secure a spot on this journey, but not for the reasons you are thinking. At least not entirely.”
They began walking again. The men were setting up campfires since they had decided to stay here for the night. Shea checked the cavern ceiling. The gaping spaces in it and the general size of the cavern should make fire relatively safe. At the very least, they were unlikely to asphyxiate on the smoke.
“So, this isn’t a ruse to lure out your enemies. Again.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “That hadn’t been the original intention, but who am I to argue with this opportunity?”
Shea snorted. She bet. Fallon was the sort of man to take advantage of every chance life presented. The possibility of eliminating more enemies while consolidating his power base was probably too tempting to pass up.
“What was the original intent?” Shea asked.
“You said it yourself. The Highlands are dangerous. Your people are dangerous. There’s no reason to think that that danger won’t take a toll on my men. Better to sacrifice those whose loyalty is in question then my best.”
Shea raised an eyebrow. That was diabolical, and not the main reason, if her knowledge of Fallon was anything to go by. She fixed him with an intent stare, saying without words that she knew there was more.
His grin flashed. “More importantly, I couldn’t chance leaving them behind where their rot might spread to the other clans.”
“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?”
He inclined his head.
She shook her head. Figured.
She walked through the orange glow from the fires to the ridge that overlooked the abandoned city, Fallon a solid presence at her side. When she stopped, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her chest, tugging her gently until she leaned back against him. She did so with a sigh.
“I never thought I’d see the like,” Fallon said into her ear. “It’s beautiful, in a desolate kind of way.”
Shea made a sound of agreement, content to look out over the city. Worry about Clark out there, alone and possibly hurt, tried to take hold. She pushed it back. Worry was a wasted emotion. There was nothing she could do right now, and Fallon had already sent men to search. She wasn’t so arrogant as to think she was the only one with the skills to find them.
“What wonders your Highlands must hide.”
Shea’s grin was fleeting in the dark. “Even for me this is new. While I have seen ancient cities before, I’ve never found one underground. It must hold some interesting secrets.”
Fallon drew back slightly, and she could sense his eyes on her in the dark. “You almost sound like you want to explore.”
Shea was quiet for a moment. Her guild would have frowned on such a yearning, but this was Fallon. If she couldn’t reveal her innermost thoughts and desires to him, then they were wrong for each other.
“Not today—we have much ground to cover before I can indulge my curiosity—but someday I’d like to return, find what brought it to this place,” Shea confided. “There is so much to learn from a place like this.”
“Perhaps when we’ve settled things with your pathfinders, we can return to this place and take a few weeks to plumb its depths.”
Shea tilted her head back, struggling to make out Fallon’s features in the dim light. “I’d like that.”
Even in the dark she could see the tender expression that settled on his face. It did funny things to her stomach, sending it fluttering all over the place.
His arms gave her a last squeeze before falling away. “Come, dinner should be nearly ready.”
She took his hand as they headed back to camp. It was a rare pleasure, since Fallon generally preferred to keep his hands free in case of attack. He must have felt relatively at ease to allow it. They walked hand in hand until the campfires came into view, then he gave her hand a last squeeze before pulling his back.
They found a spot at one of the campfires. Shea was happy to see Eamon, Buck and a few other familiar faces she recognized gathered around the fire, each holding bowls filled with hot food. Fallon indicated she take a seat before breaking off to get food for both of them.
“Any luck?” Shea asked Eamon, her voice hopeful.
Eamon shook his head. “We swept that entire area and found no sign. We’re going to conduct another search in the morning.”
“However, if Rain has anything to do with it, they’ll have us moving on before we find anything,” Buck muttered. It was clear by the hard tone of his voice, his thoughts on that.
“That will not happen,” Fallon said, handing one of the bowls he held to Shea. “We owe young Clark and Fiona our best efforts. You have my word that we won’t shirk our duties to them.”
Both Eamon and Buck bowed their head, respect and relief on their faces. “We appreciate that, Warlord.”
Reece wandered over from wherever he’d been biding his time, shadowed by two Anateri.
“I hear you ran into trouble out there,” Reece said, his eyes focused on Shea.
Shea twirled her fork in the bowl Fallon had given her and didn’t answer. Her cousin didn’t let that phase him as he watched her. He took a seat across the fire from Shea and Fallon.
“You’ve gotten rusty,” he said, making himself comfortable. “Losing someone on a mission. What would our elders say?”
Shea bit her tongue.
“There was nothing she could do,” Eamon said, his voice light.
Shea’s eyes shot to him. She knew that tone. He might sound easygoing, but the way he focused on his bowl and the careful way he moved said he was one wrong word from exploding.
“The buildings just collapsed,” Buck volunteered. “Even Shea couldn’t have predicted that.”
Reece raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you let them enter the buildings. You know how old those things are.”