Trenton whistled. “We haven’t had one of those since we began this campaign.”
“What’s an all-clan tournament?” Shea asked.
“It’s a series of contests designed to test the different skills of a warrior,” Trenton explained.
“But anybody can compete. Even an Outclan can compete. The only requirement is that you are Trateri. Some compete to gain recognition. A lot of the mentors will pick an apprentice based on how they do in the different skill sets.”
“So, the throwaways can’t compete,” Shea said. Figured. For all Fallon’s speeches on how he wanted to unite the Broken Lands, it was still very much the Trateri against everyone else.
Clark’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “We haven’t had an all-clan since we took on the throwaways. I wonder if they’ll modify the rules so they can take part.”
“They probably wouldn’t acquit themselves well even if they competed,” Trenton said. His gaze was fastened on Shea as if he was expecting a rise out of her.
Shea lifted an eyebrow. Nice try, but she wasn’t that easy.
Clark ignored Trenton. “That’s not even the best part. Every division gets to come up with three events. Eamon’s asked us to put together an event.”
Shea stared at him with a blank expression. That’s it? She didn’t get why he was so excited by this.
He rolled his eyes at her lack of enthusiasm. “Do you know what an honor this is? The event planners are nearly as famous as those who win the events. This is our chance to put the beast class on the map for the other divisions. If we plan something that they remember, they might consider implementing our model in their own divisions.”
“Hm.” Shea still didn’t get it since it sounded like a pain in the ass to her, but she was happy for him anyway. “Sounds like you and Charles have a lot of work to do.”
“Not just us; you’re part of the team too. We couldn’t do this without you.” He put a hand out. “Unless you wanted to compete. In which case, you couldn’t take part in the planning. That might work even better. This way you can prove you’re the best.”
Shea’s eyes widened and she was shaking her head before he’d even finished. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll help you plan, but competing isn’t really my thing.”
“I’m going to tell Charles the good news. He’s going to be stunned.” Clark didn’t wait for their goodbyes, hustling off in search of his friend.
Shea turned back to her food, noting with a frown that Trenton was resting his chin on his hand and grinning at her. He fluttered his eyes at her when he noticed her attention.
“Not even a Trateri a full year and you already have followers.”
“Clark’s my friend.”
He made a hmm sound that failed to denote agreement.
“What?”
“I see through you. For someone who likes to pretend they’re an outsider, you sure have a lot of friends in your corner. Not everybody gets asked to design an event. The Trateri take their tournaments very seriously. It’s one of the few activities we can gather for without intentionally shedding blood but still compete for the honor of our clans.”
Shea took a bite of her food.
“And this is something Fallon didn’t give you either. You got it all on your own merit,” he observed.
Shea looked at him in question.
“If you were wondering, that is.”
She hadn’t been, but she was now. Just how much of her life was Fallon responsible for? Was he the reason Clark and Charles were so interested in having her help with the Beast Board? And despite Trenton’s assertion, was he the reason they were getting this chance?
She took a slow bite of her food. It was something to think about.
*
Shea walked towards the tent she shared with Fallon with a slight limp, looking forward to washing off the thin coating of grime she was carrying around. One of the classes had startled a pair of wylde pigs, the slightly smaller cousin of the trihorn boar; Shea had played decoy while they brought the pigs down. Unfortunately, not before one had rammed her leg, leaving a nice sized bruise.
Trenton had not been happy when he found out. He may have even cast aspersions on Shea’s intelligence and muttered about hard-headed women who didn’t know their limits, before he stalked off after leaving her in front of her tent.
One little bruise and he was acting like a child. He’d left worse injuries on her during some of their training sessions.
Shea gave the two guards a resigned nod, not registering their surprise at her acknowledgement. Wilhelm and Trenton hadn’t been the only two to suffer from her withdrawal. The rest of the Anateri had been treated to the same remoteness.
She limped inside the tent and drew up short, noticing that Fallon and several men were seated around the table discussing plans. They quieted at the sight of her, and she found herself the center of attention.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were busy. I can come back,” Shea offered.
Henry stood, aiming a friendly smile her way. Shea hadn’t realized he was there until now. “Nonsense, our matter is unimportant, and we were almost finished anyway.”
Shea looked at Fallon in question. She really hadn’t meant to interrupt.
He nodded, his face guarded and remote. “Henry’s right. This can be continued later.”
Taking that as their dismissal, the rest of the group filed past Shea and out of the tent. Henry was the last to go. There was a slight hitch to his gait as he moved towards her.
He patted her on the shoulder as he reached her. “He’s a difficult man, but I think you’ll find the rewards worth it in the end.”
Shea gave him a confused look as Henry chuckled and made his exit, leaving Fallon and Shea alone for the first time since their argument.
Fallon busied himself, pouring another glass of wine as Shea moved closer.
“I really am sorry to have interrupted. If I’d known, I would have waited,” Shea said, feeling awkward. She hated the distance she could feel between them, but she didn’t know how to bridge it.
“It’s fine. This is your home too. You should never feel that you have to wait to enter it.”
He poured her a glass of water and slid it her way. She took it and sipped, relishing the cool feeling as it hit her parched throat.
“I hear there’s an all-clan tournament,” she ventured.
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know why they’re excited for one?”
She shook her head ruefully, “Not a clue. Clark couldn’t wait to tell me, but I have no idea what the hubbub was about.”
Fallon chuckled and Shea felt the weight on her shoulders lighten. “An all-clan is rare. It’s a holdover from when we were divided. When one was called, any clan in attendance declared a truce with the rest of the clans.”
Made sense. No one would want to show up for a tournament if they would face an ambush at the end of it. Of course, with the Trateri, that might have been part of the fun.
“It was a chance to gather and pit their skills against one another without bloodshed.” He thought a moment and then revised that statement. “Without much bloodshed. Now, it’s a way for young warriors to showcase their skills in the hopes of raising their status or securing a position in my elite units. The clans also stake their pride on the outcome.”