Rone sighed. “You shouldn’t love me back.”
Her smile wilted. “Why?”
He took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t love a man who can’t protect you. All those years ago, if I’d have let you come hunting with us, or at the very least taken you home, you wouldn’t have nearly drowned.”
Ilyenna shook her head. “No. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I followed you. I chose to cross the river where I did, knowing full well that it wasn’t where we’d crossed before.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “All this time, you’ve blamed yourself too?”
She listened to the sound of the waves scraping unseen across the shore. “Rone, you saved my life.”
He pressed his back to the boulder and slid down to sit on the ground. “I shouldn’t have had to. I knew that trail was the only safe place to cross. I should’ve made sure you took it. And then your mother died trying to nurse you back to health.”
Ilyenna sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers. “We were children.”
“But I knew better. After all that, I failed to keep you safe from Darrien.” His face darkened. “But I won’t fail you again. Darrien will never lay another hand on you. I swear by—”
She pressed her hand over Rone’s mouth. “You’ve never failed me. Never. You fed me from your own portions, saved me, tended me, took unnecessary risks . . . Rone, you’ve done nothing but show me love.”
She thought she saw the first flicker of forgiveness in his eyes—forgiveness for himself. Being here with him like this, she’d never felt more complete. Since her childhood, she’d been told men and women were opposite ends of the Balance. When they came together, they created a perfect circle—the Link. She now understood what they meant. With Rone, she was complete. Whole. She leaned forward, her lips inches from his. “So, you really love me? More than as a sister?”
He chuckled dryly. “Brothers and sisters don’t do the things we did.”
Her insides squirmed deliciously.
“How could you doubt it?” He stroked her cheek.
The way her cheeks felt, it must have been a long time since she’d smiled this broadly. She covered her mouth.
Rone pulled her hands away. “By the Balance, I’ve missed your smile.” He pressed his lips to hers. His kisses seemed to awaken a juxtaposition inside her, a delicious pain, like sweet, sour strawberries. His nearness, his love, left her stomach feeling squirmy and exhilarated—like when Rone and Bratton had dared her to jump from the topmost branch to a haystack below. All wrapped up in one overwhelming, wonderful pain—a hungering need for him.
As before, his kisses were gentle yet hungry. He pulled off the knot holding her hair back and gently unwound her braid. He ran his fingers through her hair. She shivered. Her mouth against his, she smiled and pulled him down with her. She felt her hair flaring around her. Felt his weight on her chest.
She reached up and started to undo his clan belt. Breathless, Rone grabbed her arms and held them down. He hovered above her for a moment, his face a myriad of emotions. “No. Not again.” His voice was so low she could barely hear him. “I won’t do this to you again.”
“What if I want you to do this to me again?” Ilyenna murmured.
His brows drew down. “Then I’ll love you more than you love yourself.”
She grunted. Their shame, as he called it, would be perfectly obvious to everyone in a few months. But she couldn’t seem to tell Rone about the baby. She’d just found his love again, and she wasn’t ready to test it just yet.
Still, she wanted to argue with him, to demand. But it wouldn’t do any good. When Rone had that stubborn look about him, she’d be better off to threaten the grasshoppers not to eat her garden.
“You can braid your hair on the way back.” He started up the boulder. “Come on. The Council will be meeting soon. We’ve been gone long enough.”
She stepped into the chiseled chink in the rock and took his hand. He loved her. He loved her, and everything would be all right.
“Where’ve you two been?” Varris huffed, her skirts gripped in her hands, sweat plastering her forehead. She bent down to the boy beside her and sent him off to fetch Ressa. Blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, she grabbed Ilyenna’s hand. “The last clan chief arrived just after you left. The Council might’ve already convened!”
Rone’s dangerous look returned. Ilyenna had a sudden suspicion there was something he wasn’t telling her—something bad. “Go,” she prodded him. “We’ll catch up.” With a grateful nod, he took off at a sprint.
Her hand in Varris’s vice-like grip, Ilyenna hustled toward the weathered houses beyond the city wall. She entered the village for the first time since they’d arrived. Grudgingly, she admitted it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. Rose bushes bloomed everywhere, masking the smell coming from the drying racks down by the docks.
Neatly ordered gardens resided on the west side of each house. Hanging from fishing lines, gorgeous, polished shells tinkled whenever the wind blew. Larger, conical shells lined the sides of the houses. The women wore a variety of pearls and shells around their necks or in their hair. They smiled kindly at Ilyenna as she passed.
At least until they saw Ressa storming toward them. Then they seemed to melt into side streets or houses. The clan mistress had the same look on her face as a dog herding a particularly difficult sheep. “Where’ve you been? I told you not to leave camp!”
Ilyenna bit the inside of her cheek. “I was safe. Rone was with me.”
Taking Ilyenna’s other arm as if afraid she might disappear again, Ressa started hauling her toward the clanhouse. “You . . . what? Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“How is that any of your business?” Ilyenna muttered.
“I suppose it isn’t,” Ressa said coldly.
Wishing she’d held her tongue, Ilyenna grimaced at the feel of Ressa’s nails biting into her skin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”
They arrived at the clanhouse, but Ressa didn’t release her arm. “We’ve no time for this. The meeting started moments ago. Unless I’ve missed something else, all that’s happened is Rone and Otec being restored as rightful clan chiefs. As if there was any doubt.” She pulled Ilyenna past the two men posted at the door, released her, and moved into the shadowy room.
Her father and Rone. Hope lightened Ilyenna’s heart.
Still, she hesitated in the doorway. She suddenly didn’t want to hear the Council’s verdict. Right now, she was safe, well-fed, clothed, and cared for. Her injuries were healing, and no one was threatening to add new ones. That could all change on the Council’s whim. But refusing to listen wouldn’t stop the decision from being made. Much as she wanted to run, Ilyenna knew that held no answers either. If she had to face this, she would face it as Rone had—courageously.
So, though her heart thumped madly, she moved through the room full of people. The voices slowly fell silent as she passed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. A few candles burned at the table, augmenting the light straining through the warped, pockmarked windows and open doors. The room smelled of tallow candles and lye soap. As always, the Council was seated before the empty fireplace, with clan chiefs on the left, clan mistresses on the right, and white-haired High Chief Burdin in the center.
As she came before the table, Rone smiled at her reassuringly. Some of the tightness eased from her chest at the familiar sight of him and her father in their seats. Perhaps she would be allowed to take her own place.
But then she saw Darrien standing behind his father. Their gazes locked. Horror and hatred burned inside of her. The Council could order her back as his tiam. With a shudder that shook her to her bones, she focused on High Chief Burdin. Though she could feel Darrien’s eyes on her, she refused to look his way again.
“Ah, Ilyenna,” High Chief Burdin said in his gravelly voice. “We’ve heard from your father and just now from Rone Argon. But we’ve yet to hear from you. Ca
n you tell us of your treatment as a tiam?”
Ilyenna’s blood seemed to freeze in her veins. She cleared her throat, her eyes tracing the grains of the floor. “In the short time I was a tiam, I was starved, beaten, humiliated, and—and . . .” She paused and shifted her weight uncomfortably.“. . . and nearly violated, even though they agreed not to harm me by violence or neglect. I was only supposed to submit my sweat.” She finished in a whisper.
More than one Council member shot Darrien and his father looks of disgust. For the term of their service, tiams were property, no better or worse than sheep or cattle. But Ilyenna wasn’t a common criminal. She was one of them—a clan mistress. One who had taken her father’s place in order to save his life, and the Council knew it.
“And were the other tiams treated this poorly?” Burdin asked gently.
Ilyenna managed a tight nod. “Even before some of the clanwomen were made tiams.”
Her father gripped his axe as if he was considering using it. Rone glared at Darrien like he’d already made the decision to use his. Later. With a growing sense of dread, Ilyenna realized that’s exactly what Rone had planned.
He spoke in a voice as calm as the stillness before a thunderstorm. “I would ask Ilyenna to relate to the Council what she saw at the Tyran clan house.”
She locked gazes with Rone. She pretended he was the only one in the room, that she spoke only to him. “Darrien kept me in the attic above his room. One night, I saw three riders approach the clan house.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ilyenna saw Undon and Darrien exchange a quick glance.
She swallowed. “One held the horses, while the other two approached the house. When the door opened, I saw the men in the light—men with foreign cloaks and strange tunics. I believe they were Raiders.”
A cry rose up from nearly every mouth in the room. Undon and Darrien remained oddly silent. She’d expected them to deny it, to accuse her of lying. Their silence frightened her more than their shouts would have.
“You saw the tattoos on their skulls?” asked Zenna of the West clan.
Ilyenna slowly shook her head. “They had their cowls up.”
Conversations erupted throughout the room, so Ilyenna spoke a little louder. “I sneaked down to the kitchen to try to hear what they were saying, but I couldn’t make out their words.”
Rone leaned forward. “I can add my witness to Ilyenna’s. Near Kebholm, two Raiders attacked her. I managed to kill one before the other escaped.” He threw something that looked like poorly treated rawhide on the table. But this rawhide had writing on it.
Then Ilyenna stepped closer. The strange marks weren’t writing, but tattoos. It was one of the Raider’s scalps. She shuddered as she remembered the wet thing Rone had tucked out of her sight after he’d killed the Raider. She looked away, determined not to look at it again.
Clan Chief Shamaron of the Kebs cleared his throat. “A body was found, but it was rotted beyond recognition.”
Samass stood to get a better view of the scalp. His face paled and he sat down heavily. “So there are Raiders about.”
“That doesn’t prove I was in league with them.”
Every eye in the room turned to Undon, the tension so thick it felt like weight on Ilyenna’s shoulders.
Undon wiped his mouth and leaned forward. “I would ask that the room be cleared of all but the Council and the doors be shut.”
Burdin hesitated, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Very well.” He motioned toward the door. People all around Ilyenna exchanged surprised glances, but no one argued. After they’d shuffled outside, the guards shut the doors. Without the breeze coming off the ocean, the room immediately felt stuffy. A trickle of sweat started down Ilyenna’s spine.
Undon bowed his head, as if speaking were difficult for him. If Ilyenna didn’t know better, she’d have believed his performance. “I struck the Argons because I believed they’d attacked my clan, killing many families.”
What game is he playing? Ilyenna wondered. She glanced at Rone. Every muscle in his body seemed clenched tight enough to pull away from his bones.
Undon sighed deeply. “I now believe I was wrong.”
In disbelief, Ilyenna swayed and had to catch herself to keep from falling over.
Her father grunted as though he’d been punched. “You’re saying that killing and enslaving my clanmen—was a mistake?”
Many other Council members exchanged shocked glances.
Undon gestured toward the evidence lying on the table—evidence Ilyenna had already seen. A charred clan belt, a few arrows, and now the scalp. “If Ilyenna truly saw any men coming to my clan house in the night, they were scouts. A week after attacking the Argons, we found signs suggesting the Raiders staged the attacks on my farms to goad me into attacking the Argons, which would substantially weaken our borders and our defenses. I’ve had my scouts out searching for signs of Raiders ever since.”
“Then how do you explain their cloaks?” questioned Tenna of the Kebs.
Undon made a gesture of dismissal. “Some of my men have taken to wearing them.”
“But why the subterfuge?” asked Jenly the Cor. “The Shyle is too far inland to worry about attacks.”
Ilyenna watched as realization dawned on her father’s face. “Because of Shyle Pass,” he muttered.
“Could an army of Raiders come down it?” asked Wynn of the West.
Otec nodded slowly. “There’s a few months a year that the pass is traversable.”
High Chief Burdin jumped in. “If there are Raiders coming down Shyle Pass, we need to know now, yes?”
All the clan chiefs and clan mistresses immediately agreed. Burdin stood, spreading his arms in midair over the table. “We’ll send scouts immediately. They’re to have access to whatever help they might need from the clans, especially fresh horses and food.”
Every head in the room nodded assent. “Each clan, pick your best. In the meantime, I want every clan to send at least two hundred warriors. Two hundred more are to be at the ready in case the Raiders attack by sea. Clans Cor, Carden, and Delya are to have ships patrolling the waters. The orders go out now.”
Ilyenna was completely forgotten as orders were sent out and men called for and dismissed. When the chaos finally died away, Burdin leaned back in his chair. “Now, what to do about you, Undon.”
The Tyran clan chief bowed. “My apologies to the Argons, the Shyle, and even the Riesen.”
Ilyenna’s father jumped from his chair. “I’ll accept no apology from you!” He turned to Burdin. “With enough time, our homes and herds can be rebuilt, our goods replaced. But the damage done by Undon goes much deeper. I have fistfuls of widows and fatherless children. Women violated. I go to bed at night to the sound of their weeping. Undon’s hands are stained with the blood and tears of my clanmen and clanwomen. I have a price to extract for it.” Otec turned to Undon. “I want you dead.”
Undon seemed unmoved. “What would more bloodshed accomplish? Haven’t enough died?”
“Because of you!” Otec shouted.
Undon slapped the table. “No, because of the Raiders!”
Rone spoke up, “You were in league with the Raiders. You only switched sides after your secret was discovered.”
Ilyenna nodded furiously in agreement. “I’m telling you, the men were foreigners.”
“That’s preposterous,” Undon huffed. “I’m a clan chief. Why would I do anything that risked my clan?”
“Money, power, jealousy. Why does any man betray those who would call him friend?” Rone shrugged. “Ilyenna has no reason to lie about the men being foreigners.”
“Yes, she does.” Darrien’s voice was soft, but it struck a ringing silence through the room.
The whole Council swiveled to face him.
He stared at his feet. “For one thing, that attic doesn’t have any windows. For another, it’s far too high to climb down from, or to climb back up. If she’d have been able to manage it, she’d have slit my
throat long ago.”
Couldn’t the Council see through this deception? “I considered it.” Ilyenna locked gazes with Burdin. “I saw it through a chink in the mortar. Darrien had many skulls and antlers on his walls. I used them to climb down from the attic and back up.”
Darrien spoke louder this time, his voice holding a hint of warning. “No, you didn’t, because you never slept in the attic.”
“I saw her there,” Rone interrupted. “I brought her food and a blanket.”
Darrien glared at Rone. “If that is true, you were there during the day, not at night.”
Rone’s hand twitched toward his axe.
Ilyenna’s mind felt like a hammer that kept missing the nail. Darrien was setting a trap, but she didn’t know how to avoid it. “I spent every night there.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I won’t let you lie, Ilyenna. I won’t let you destroy my clan.”
“I’m not lying!” She clenched her fists so tight she felt her nails cutting into her palms.
“You’re trying to force me to confess? Fine!” Darrien turned away from her and said to Burdin, “She never slept in the attic. She slept in my bed.”
All the air went out of Ilyenna. “That’s not true.”
He looked at her with false pity. “I tied her to the posts every night after I was through with her. There’s no way she saw Raiders.”
“I will have you and Undon’s head for this!” Ilyenna’s father shouted.
The Council members didn’t even look at her. More than one face was flushed with rage or embarrassment . . . or both. Ilyenna finally understood Darrien’s trap, but it was too late. None of them would believe her now. Not when her own father wouldn’t. After all, what man would admit to forcing a woman? Especially after Ilyenna had just established violating women as a hobby of his.
She glanced at Rone, who was gaping at her in bewilderment. She felt everything falling away, like the last leaves wrenched from their branches before the first winter wind. She tried to keep her gaze open, to make him believe her. “If that were true, I’d have said it. Not some story about Raiders.”