Pathfinder's Way (43 page)

The space inside was huge not only in length
and width but also in height. The gently moving ceiling was at
least the height of two men, making the room even larger than the
great room at Birdon Leaf.

An abundance of tantalizing smells greeted
them and place settings had been set on two long tables. Normally,
Trateri tended to perch on any available surface when eating, or if
they were dining more formally, they sat on cushions and ate at low
tables.

This table was normal sized, in the tradition
of the Lowlanders, and had sturdy wooden chairs with low backs. For
a normal sized man, the top of the chair would only reach his lower
back. It wasn’t much better than a stool.

Eamon, Phillip and Buck were huddled at the
farthest end of a table. Shea headed straight for them, feeling
relieved to see familiar faces. Buck and Eamon tried to keep the
excitement they felt under wraps. Phillip was his normal
indecipherable self.

“Where have you been?” Eamon asked as soon as
she arrived.

She opened her mouth to answer but was cut
off by Trenton. “He tried to leave on another mission.”

“What?” Both Eamon and Buck looked at her
like she had grown three heads.

She tried to speak but didn’t get even a word
out.

“What were you thinking?” Eamon asked.

“We just got back.” Buck’s words ran over
Eamon’s. “Aren’t you the least bit tired?”

“Never mind.” Buck waved away her response.
“I’m being made a scout master. I’m getting my own team.”

Shea couldn’t believe her ears. The
assignment of scout master was very competitive. Not every scout
got the chance. Only the best

“That’s great.” She didn’t have to fake the
enthusiasm in her voice. It was great. Buck deserved it.

He grinned at her. “Not as great as this
guy’s news. Tell her.”

She looked expectantly at Eamon whose grin
nearly split his face.

“They’re promoting me to the Western Wind
Scout Division Commander.”

She blinked twice, not quite believing she’d
heard right. There were only five Scout Division Commanders in the
Trateri army. One for each of the military elements. It wasn’t just
a promotion, it was an elevation in rank and status.

He’d have complete control in the way the
scout units in his division were run. He’d be responsible for
assigning units to missions, their training, everything.

“I don’t believe it,” she finally said.

“I know,” he told her. “I didn’t either, but
the Hawkvale himself gave me the appointment. It’s as good as
done.”

An awkward silence fell as they waited for
her excitement.

The smile she gave this time was slightly
strained, but she meant it when she said, “Congratulations. There’s
no one who could do a better job than you.”

He gave her another smile which she
returned.

She looked at Phillip, expecting him to tell
her what he’d gotten.

He looked a little ill at ease as he said,
“I’d prefer to keep what I received to myself for now.”

She nodded. She understood. Maybe he was like
her and would have rather returned his ‘gift.’

“What about you?” Buck asked.

“What do you mean?”

“We all got something. What did you get?”

Another silence fell as Shea wrestled with
what to tell them. For some reason, she was unwilling to share her
draft into Hawkvale’s personal guard.

“He’ll be one of Hawkvale’s warriors,”
Trenton spoke up behind her.

A silence fell as she found herself
scrutinized by Eamon and Buck. She gave Trenton a dirty look. He
stared back at her unfazed.

“I’ll be damned,” Buck nearly whispered.

“I didn’t think it was possible for someone
who wasn’t Trateri to become an Anateri Warrior,” Eamon said.

“Hawkvale is making an exception in Shane’s
case.” To Shea, he said, “You’re the only one of your team the
Hawkvale hasn’t spoken to yet, and he wants that done before the
meal so you need to come with me.”

Every muscle on Shea’s body locked, and she
took a deep breath. She nodded and followed Trenton into the walled
off portion of the tent. She braced herself as she stepped through,
feeling the fabric drop behind her, cutting her off from the rest
of the gathering.

The other side surprised her, and she stopped
mid step. She looked around wide eyed. The Trateri’s ability to
adapt their surroundings to their specific taste and preference
always impressed her. They had a way of taking what should have
been a humble lifestyle and inserting into it a grandeur and
elegance not often found in the Broken Lands.

Fallon Hawkvale’s chambers embraced this
concept so well that it was difficult to believe this space existed
in a simple tent that could be packed up and moved on a weekly
basis.

Tapestries alive with intricate embroidery
were stretched across ornately carved wooden frames, giving the
room the impression of painted walls. The sloped canopy of the
ceiling had several fabric panels cut out to allow air flow to keep
the space cool and fresh. In the possibility of rain or cold
weather, each ‘window’ had fabric that could be rolled over it to
attach to the sides.

There wasn’t just one large rug on the ground
but several, each piled one on top of the other so when a person
walked across it their feet sank into the plush fabric. It was soft
and thick under Shea’s shoes, leaving no impression of the uneven
ground below. No bumps from rocks or clods of dirt marred the
geometric designs and vivid colors.

The edge of one had the distinctive pattern
of a Lowland city known for their weavings. No doubt many of these
were the spoils of war.

That thought helped break Shea’s surprise and
led her to recognize other familiar objects, such as the gleaming
black wood on the chest at the foot of Hawkvale’s low bed. Shea
knew of only one place that made furniture with wood that
black.

Having noticed the chest, she found herself
cataloging the bed and its comfortable nest of furs and blankets
before finding her gaze inexplicably drawn to the figure sitting at
the side of the bed.

Shea came to attention, assuming that was
what a Trateri would do in this situation.

She examined this man who had caused such an
upheaval in her life and the lives of thousands of others.

He looked tired. It wasn’t much, but
something in his posture suggested he had the weight of the world
on his shoulders. That same exhaustion was present behind his eyes
and in the tightness of the skin around them.

In all honesty, she was surprised he was
awake. The spinner hallucinogenic tended to linger for days. There
was no way his system had gotten rid of all of it. The fact he was
upright and alert was a testament to the fierce determination and
stubborn drive of this man.

What would it be like to have both of those
traits focused on a single person?

Terrifying? Or would it make them feel like
they were the only thing that mattered in a world where very little
mattered?

Shea dismissed these idle thoughts. She would
never have cause to find out.

Fallon’s perusal of her was much more direct.
It felt as if his whiskey colored eyes were peeling back her
secrets one by one. Something she could not afford.

The taut silence lasted as he looked his
fill. She pretended to examine the embroidered panel directly
across from her.

“I’m told you’re the reason I’m still alive.”
Fallon’s gravelly voice scrapped across Shea’s nerves.

When he fell silent again she realized with a
start he was waiting for an answer. Finding her voice was difficult
with the full force of his attention focused solely on her.

“That’s not entirely true.”

Fallon’s lips quirked in a semi smile. “So
you weren’t the one who figured out my men were looking in the
wrong place?”

“I did do that,” Shea admitted. Caden and
Darius already knew that much.

“Were you not the one who decided what the
most likely routes I might have taken were?”

“I was responsible for that, too.”

“I admit things were hazy, but I’m pretty
sure it was your face I saw when I was cut out of the web.”

Shea held her silence stubbornly. That was
true.

“How exactly is it not true?”

“None of that would have been possible if not
for the men in my team. Eamon created the distraction that gave me
time to get you and the other man free. If he hadn’t done that, we
would all have been food for spinner babies. If Phillip and Buck
hadn’t eliminated the other routes, we would never have thought to
look for you there. So I’m not the only reason you’re alive. You
have them to thank as well.”

There was a muffled snort behind her. Given
the magnetism of Fallon’s presence she had forgotten all about
Trenton.

“Each man from your party has been rewarded.
You’re the last.”

Shea’s face remained placid and unmoving as
she kept her eyes trained somewhere above his head. She already
knew what came next.

Fallon stood with a small grimace and walked
over to place his hands on Shea’s shoulders. His palms’ warmth sank
through her shirt, scalding her.

“You’re about to receive one of the greatest
gifts we have to give an outsider,” he told her.

Shea was left with no choice but to meet his
eyes squarely with her own. It would have been odd to continue
staring over his head. Like all Trateri he was big, not just in
height but in the breadth of his shoulders and the size of his
arms. He made her seem dainty in comparison.

“What’s that?”

He gave her shoulders a small squeeze.
“You’re going to become one of us.”

“Uh-huh. And how am I to do that?”

He gave her a toothy grin. “We’re adopting
you.”

“I have parents, thank you.”

“And now you’ll have a clan.” He let her go
and stepped back.

“And if I prefer to remain as I am?”

There was a small growl behind her. The humor
on Fallon’s face drained leaving a deadly expression behind.

“The offer to adopt an outsider into a clan
is not one that is made often. It is considered an honor.” Fallon’s
face thawed as a bit of his earlier humor peeked through. “I would
advise caution when making your decision.”

Ah, so it was one of those gifts. The kind
you might not want but couldn’t refuse.

Shea sighed. It wasn’t like this would affect
her decision to escape one way or the other.

“I would be honored to be accepted into the
ranks of the Trateri.”

“I thought that might be your answer,” Fallon
said in a wry voice.

Bet he did.

“You’re also to be promoted to the ranks of
my Anateri.” He inspected her body, paying attention to her arms
and legs. He didn’t seem impressed. “You’ll have to undergo
training. Hopefully, you’ll put on a few more inches before you
stop growing. Until then you’ll serve in whatever capacity Caden or
his men see fit.”

Shea took the news sourly. She had a feeling
this was another ‘gift’ she didn’t dare refuse.

“You’ll need a new uniform,” Fallon said with
a grimace at the oversized one she had on. To Trenton he said, “Do
we have any that small?”

Trenton gave Shea a skeptical glance.
“Probably not. I’ll have one of the Snakes alter one to size.”

“Good. Now, let’s get this feast over with
before I collapse on my ass.”

Shea blinked. She hadn’t been expecting such
a frank admittance of weakness. Not from the Hawkvale.

Fallon continued past her, stepping gingerly.
Trenton pushed aside the fabric for him. Two steps before crossing
into the other room, Fallon’s shoulders straightened and his stride
smoothed out until he prowled passed Trenton. If Shea hadn’t seen
it, she never would have guessed he suffered any weakness.

Seeing the confusion on her face, Trenton
explained, “Whatever is said or done behind these curtains is never
repeated outside this chamber. You would not like the consequences
should you share his personal business.”

Trenton’s eyes were steely as they held hers.
She swallowed at the not so veiled threat and nodded.

He gave her a pleased smile. “After you,
little brother. The feast can’t begin until the guest of honor
appears.”

Shea gave him a squinty eyed glare and ducked
past him. From the slightly amused glint in his eye, he knew
exactly how she felt about this so called ‘honor.’

The dining space had filled with people in
the short time Shea spent speaking with Fallon. The low roar of
voices quieted as she became the focus. One by one, the men and
women gathered returned to their discussions.

Shea searched the crowd for Eamon or Buck,
wanting the reassurance of a familiar face.

Trenton stepped up beside her, grabbing her
arm and tugging her behind him as he plunged into the crowd of
faces.

“The Snake Clan’s Cobra,” he murmured in her
ear while indicating a striking woman with straight, long black
hair and a sleeveless tunic that left her toned arms bare.

If Shea remembered correctly, Cobra was the
term Snake Clan used to refer to their Clan Leader.

Trenton said, “The Snake Clan is the only one
with a female Clan Leader. They have a long history of woman
rulers. Before the clans united under Hawkvale’s grandfather, many
thought a female leader was a sign of weakness. The Snake’s taught
them otherwise.”

The Cobra was beautiful, but the cold,
calculating look in her eyes was evidence of the deadly being
residing just under the pretty surface.

“She’s speaking with Jarak, an Earth Clan
Amethyst Leader. He’s quite handy with a blade but always looks for
the easiest ways to win.”

Jarak was a plain looking man with alert eyes
and a crooked smile. His dark brown hair was pulled back tight
against his head.

The only Earth Clan Shea had encountered were
some of the cartographers. She knew they were also the blacksmiths
responsible for the weapons the Trateri carried to battle. They had
many soldiers in the army, but most served on the west and south
battlefronts.