Chapter 2-30

I spent awhile longer chatting with Airt. I’d avoided him for decades, not wanting anything to tie me back to the Mithali or the Pure. So we caught up on how our lives had gone since we parted ways. My herb lore, combined with the practice I’d had healing my own injuries had allowed me to get started as a healer. And then I’d largely kept my head down for the past four decades.

Airt had done much the same. His capture by the Pure had lost him a great deal of face. And the fact that his fellows had been wary rather than relieved about our escape had soured his opinions of the clans, and his fellow druids. Living on the border between Metic and Ramana had been a strange sort of solace for him. Everyone was out of place here.

His apprentice eventually woke up, and received a thorough tongue lashing over our greeting. His look of hatred made me glad we weren’t staying under the same roof.

When we finished catching up, I took my leave, still mulling over the strange coincidences that surrounded me. It seemed clear that some **** was pushing me toward clan Ket, but to what end? Kubek had been the one to put Ket and I together, but I didn’t think the forest god had a broad enough reach to orchestrate all of these events.

We encamped outside of Balrua, and passed into Metic early the next day. Myta had the entire company stay alert, and Denu’s rangers preceded us to watch for ambushes. Despite our caution, no trouble found us, and we arrived at the location of the moot without incident. It was a small plateau, with only one passable ascent. A narrow but solid trail that switchbacked up the steep climb. I had most of the company remain down in the forest, leaving Jito in command. Hati, Myta, Sati, Petad, and Ket all ascended with me.

I had never attended a moot of the clans before, but I had some idea what to expect. The top of the plateau was flat and bare, scoured by wind and sun, and lacking the cooling shade of the surrounding forests. Small clusters of quickly erected structures dotted the edges of the summit like a mushroom ring.

No permanent buildings were allowed on the plateau. Each clan leader brought a small number of their finest warriors, no more than five at most, and many brought advisors in the form of druids, or just older and more experienced members of the clan.

Our arrival caused a stir, though not as much of one as I thought it might. We weren’t the only outsiders attending the moot. I saw a group from Tribeta, their structures woven from unnaturally tall grasses. While a cluster of yurts marked a delegation from Ootrin. Ramana had no other emissaries beyond me and my company.

The guards, and they were definitely guards despite their eclectic and casual appearance, directed us to an open space to set up our own camp. The moot was well under way, more than halfway done, so the space had clearly been reserved for us. I was glad we hadn’t decided to skip the gathering, as that could have insulted all these clan heads.

“Elder!” I heard a voice calling out to our group, and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t being addressed. “We have reserved your space by our fire, now that you are here.”

*Siobhan, I will join you. But so will Esur as he is my ally.* Ket responded in a friendly tone, but there were indercurrents to the exchange that I could feel, but didn’t understand.

I took a moment to examine the woman who had approached us. Tall and broad of shoulder, she reminded me of Myta. Not just in build, but in the way she carried herself. A fighter, well practiced in combat. She didn’t seem hostile, though she did size me up with a wary gaze by. Her hair was tawny, somewhere between red, blonde, and brown, braided in the style of Metic warriors. Two smaller war axes hung by her hips

“Siobhan UnKet, I presume? I am eager to speak with you.” I kept my tone even and pleasant, even as I recognized the second figure who approached. She was no longer cowled and masked, but I couldn’t mistake her slight figure and bloody presence. “And Saoirse, Saoirse Ket. I didn’t realize you were the sister to a clan head when we first met.”

The resemblance between the sisters was obvious, despite their differences. They had the same facial structure, though Siobhan was sturdier, and Saoirse was more finely boned. They both had heart shaped faces, with large expressive eyes and thin, arched brows. Saoirse’s hair was a few shades lighter, with markings that resembled Ket’s spots. She also had the golden eyes and slit pupils of a cat, and a very fine layer of fur over much of her skin. Aspect markings, and strong ones.

“You’ve met? Fuck Saoirse, did you try to kill them?”

“Nae.” Unrepentant, the smaller sister glared at us. “Just warned them off. But here they are, despite our encounter.”

“We’ve come at the behest of king Ramana, to offer our aid against Ootrin and their Pure allies. If you don’t want our help, there are other clans here who might.”

“Fuck. Off.” Saoirse snapped back at me. “You say that as though you aren’t a butcher yourself!”

I shrugged her comment off, pushing back my temper. Myta, however, was not so restrained. Her presence flared, and she was abruptly standing before the argumentative woman. The blade of her manifest glaive pressed to Saoirse’s throat.

“You threatened one of my people, attacked my master, and now you lump him in with that filth?” She hissed out the words as she met the other woman’s glare with her own. “We respect Ket, but I’d just as soon see you bleed as speak to you right now.”

Saoirse seemed ready enough to bite back, even as a trickle of blood slid down her throat, but Siobhan interrupted.

“Allow me to right my sister’s offense. Please, come join us at the fire.”

Saoirse dropped her gaze and stepped back, though I could practically feel the rage rising off of her like a heat shimmer in the air. Myta stepped back as well, reluctantly, and I smiled politely at UnKet.

“We would be honored, to share your hearth.”

“Polite or savvy enough to know our words.” Her tone was cautiously friendly. The way one might speak to a stray dog of unknown temperament. Despite her wariness, she began leading us back to the Clan Ket encampment.

“I spent some time among the clans after the incident,” I noted. “Obviously I wasn’t welcomed to stay, but I have a great fondness for this land, and its people.”

“And you thought you might be welcomed now?” She darted a glance at Ket, who ignored the conversation entirely.

“I have something to offer now. We, have something to offer.” I gestured to my companions. “And we have a great interest in opposing the Pure in whatever their plans are. I was surprised to see Ootrin tribesmen here.”

“The laws of the moot are clear.” Siobhan’s tone expressed her displeasure plainly. “As long as they keep their numbers low, and keep the peace here, they may speak and listen like any other. It’s no matter that they are raiding us, and that we all know they serve the Pure.”

“And they’ve kept the peace?” I asked. “It’s hard to imagine the tribesmen being civil.”

The delicious scent of a venison stew hit me, as we arrived at a cluster of low tents. Unlike most of the clans, the warriors present were all men. And only two of them had the strength of spirit to be shifters. There was one advisor, a druid, if I wasn’t mistaken. She was an older, hard-bitten woman who looked to be in her fifth decade. The warriors all eyed me with varying levels of jealousy, which was odd. Nevertheless, they offered us bowls of the savory stew as we sat.

“Aye, they’ve followed the letter of our laws.” Siobhan continued, after the short interruption. “They’ve taunted as many of our warriors into duels as they can manage. Their leader is an experienced raider named Batu, who wields the Pure’s sorcery as a weapon. They’ve killed a dozen of the clans’ champions over the course of the moot. Six of those he killed himself.”

“Perhaps we could help with that?” Myta spoke up for the first time since confronting Saoirse. “I wouldn’t mind testing myself against a warrior trained by the Pure.”

“Let me, Mytan.” Hati’s grin was bloodthirsty. “Let them see that even a lesser fighter among us can destroy their champion.”

The warriors around us shifted uncomfortably, and I could feel their hostility rise at the sergeant’s bravado. I wasn’t sure that her suggestion would actually serve us well, but it was clear she wanted the chance to test her new power and skills.

“You don’t want to go into that fight blind,” I warned. “I can try to get a feel for his spirit at least, or we can wait for another challenge, so we can see what you would be dealing with.”

Myta shared a long look with Hati.

“We can wait an evening,” my vas said, after some unspoken communication passed between them. “Unless they manage to provoke another duel first. If that happens, you can intervene.” Hati nodded in satisfaction. I wasn’t sure why the larger woman was so eager to throw herself into this fight, but I trusted my flame. If she felt that Hati should push forward, I would accept it.

“I will pass by their camp once darkness has fallen. Sati, will you escort me?” The apsara started at my question, clearly having been lost in thought. She recovered quickly, however.

“I would be happy to,” she nodded. “I’ve been wanting to practice on others.”

All the members of Clan Ket looked at us speculatively, but they kept their peace. “If Hati succeeds," I said to them, “then I hope you will look on us favorably.”

“Aye.” Siobhan said, her voice neutral. “You’ll have shown your skill, and taken a step towards trustworthy.” Her smaller sister just continued to glare, as did the four other warriors.

“Well, I think for now we should take our leave and set our own camp. Your hospitality warms our hearts.”

“As your presence warms ours.” Siobhan reply was wry, as she glanced at the hostile faces of her subordinates. The irony of her formal reply wasn’t lost on me, but I just smiled and nodded politely.

“Until tomorrow.” I led us off to set up our campsite.