After another long drawn out moment, men emerged from the largest tent. Cale was the first to exit, followed by Paul and one other. Fallon’s men brought up the rear.
Unlike the men from the other two tents, these men sported no evidence of a struggle. Each was unharmed.
Cale walked to stand before Fallon’s horse, looking up at his half-brother with a self-absorbed insolence. From the anger on the faces of Fallon’s men, it was clear they did not appreciate his sneer.
Darius and Caden were as composed as if they were out for an afternoon ride.
“What insult is this, brother?” Cale asked, gesturing to where his men were held at sword point.
“Indra confessed everything. You and any who supported your plans will face the Warlord’s Judgment,” Fallon said, his voice a quiet rumble.
“This is ridiculous,” Cale scoffed. “I’m your brother. She was obviously stirring up trouble and hoping to turn you from your allies. She lied, brother.”
Shea leaned forward and said softly so only Fallon could hear, “I recognize his voice. He was the third man plotting with the cartographer.”
He could do what he willed with that information.
“No, she didn’t, Cale. You’ve coveted my position and rank for a long time. We know it was you.”
Seeing he wasn’t going to be able to weasel out of the charges with claims of brotherly affection, Cale switched tactics. “You have no proof. Just the word of that Lowland slattern behind you and that of a traitorous clan leader.”
Shea was not and never had been a Lowlander or a woman of loose moral fiber.
“You forget, boy. The Hawkvale needs only his own council for proof,” Caden said.
“We never said Shea brought evidence against you,” Darius observed.
Cale blustered, “Well, who else would seek to turn my brother against me. She is trying to destabilize us so her people can rise against the Trateri.”
When Fallon said nothing in response, Shea drew back. He didn’t believe his brother’s words, did he? She had done nothing of the sort. She hadn’t even been the one who fingered him originally. That had been all Indra.
Shea put as much distance between the two of them and prepared to jump down if it became necessary.
“My lord,” one of Fallon’s men stepped forward holding rolled up paper. “We found this in his quarters.”
Fallon reached down and took the paper tube from him and unrolled it. Curious, Shea peered over his shoulder and then bared her teeth.
It was one of her maps or at least a replication of her map. By the markings, it looked like they had indeed broken one of the ciphers. Now that she saw Paul was with them, she even knew how they had done it.
“So, what did Paul promise you?” Shea asked, running one finger down the map in Fallon’s hands. “Did he say he would take you to his village and give you their weapons? Too bad they only have one boomer in the entire place, and that was taken as part of the tithe when my party was handed over to Darius. That wouldn’t be near enough fire power to sufficiently arm your soldiers to gain an advantage.”
Paul would have used his knowledge of landmarks on their route down to Goodwin of Ria to give Cale’s people a starting point on the cipher. It wouldn’t have gotten them all the way back to Birdon Leaf, but it would have gotten them above the cliffs at the very least.
“Brother, she’s lying,” Cale said desperately.
His time had run out, and his words held no weight. He could see that in Fallon’s impassive regard not a single hint of brotherly affection leaked through.
“Please,” Cale tried again.
“Cale of the Lion Clan, I no longer claim any ties with you. You are to be excised from the clans and given my judgment. Your men will follow your fate and any other supporters of the traitors Indra of the Snake Clan or my former brother Cale will be put to death.” Fallon’s voice rumbled through the clearing so all nearby could hear the pronouncement.
He nodded at Caden, who lifted his hand and lowered it. The two men flanking Cale grabbed him, holding him firm and forcing him to watch as Fallon’s men slew the other men they had rousted from the tents.
“Shea, wait. You can’t let them do this,” Paul desperately pleaded as he backed away.
Shea forced herself to watch as Paul’s begging abruptly ended with a sword thrust to the stomach.
“Goodbye, Paul,” she said softly.
It was over as quickly as the executions of Indra and her men. In the end, Cale was the only one left standing.
Fallon turned his horse and gestured for the men holding Cale to march in front of him. They forced Cale to move, with him pleading and screaming the entire time. Fallon and the rest of his men followed the slow procession out of camp to the top of one of the nearby rolling hills.
As they crested it, Shea saw a crowd waiting for them. All of the clan leaders were present, watching grimly as Cale was led towards them.
Brightly colored rugs covered the grass. Cale was forced onto them while the two men escorting him bound his hands behind his back and then did the same with his feet.
Cale’s pleas had fallen silent and his ragged breathing was the only sound.
The men laid him flat and then rolled him up in two of the rugs. They wrapped several lengths of rope around the struggling form and stepped back once he was properly secured.
Shea couldn’t figure out what they intended or why Cale hadn’t been killed back at the tents.
Seeing her confusion, Darius spoke quietly, “Since Cale is a member of the warlord’s family and the same blood runs in his veins, it would be considered treason to spill it with steel. Instead, they roll him in rugs to protect his skin. They’ll pile rocks on top of him until he suffocates or is crushed. This way the sanctity of the blood is protected but those he put in harm’s way will be avenged.”
Shea watched as they began piling large stones on the form. Two men worked in tandem to complete their work.
“It is a brutal and long way to go,” Darius said almost as an afterthought. “I think I’d prefer to meet my end by the sword instead.”
“I second that,” Caden said.
Shea’s gaze went to the back of Fallon’s head. She could tell nothing about his emotional state from here. Was he glad to be rid of the traitor? Did he mourn for his brother? Did he feel nothing?
She touched his back lightly. There was a barely perceptible flinch. Invisible to any of the onlookers.
Grief then.
It couldn’t be easy to know your own flesh and blood had taken part in repeated attempts on your life. Having to watch as someone you grew up with be slowly crushed and suffocated must be agonizing.
Shea slowly slid her arms around his waist, ready to withdraw if he indicated she wasn’t welcome. When he didn’t move to reject her, she hugged him and slid forward pressing her front to his back and then laid her cheek against his shoulder, offering comfort in the only way she could in this moment.
So gently, she could almost believe she imagined it, he touched the top of her hand in a brief caress before lacing his fingers with hers.
Together they waited as the body struggled less and less until it finally went still. The men continued to stack the rocks until long after all movement had stopped.
“That should be enough,” Fallon said.