Shea watched him work silently.
“Well?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I assumed ‘here’ meant inside camp.”
A vein pulsed in his forehead as he tried to stare her down. He took a deep breath and the tension in his body just fell away.
“You knew what I meant.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Why were you over there?”
She shrugged.
“Why?”
She sighed loudly. “Saying goodbye.”
“What makes you think you won’t see them again?”
She snorted. “I don’t know where we’re going, but from your talk it sounds like there’ll be a lot of people. As it’s unlikely you’ll keep us together, I thought I’d say my goodbyes while I still could.”
“Uh huh,” Damon said skeptically, raising both eyebrows.
She met his eyes steadfastly, not wanting him to assume deception if she avoided his gaze.
“Did you know people are twice as likely to hold your eyes if they’re lying? Otherwise they tend to avoid direct eye contact.”
She frowned. Wasn’t avoiding a person’s eyes a sign of deception?
He gave an abrupt laugh. He didn’t believe her story at all. “Guess Fallon and Darius were telling the truth. You have a little bit of fire in you after all.” He took the rope, wrapped it around the tree and then looped it around her chest. He repeated this several times before tying it off. “I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you for the rest of our journey. Wouldn’t want you to slip away before you meet Fallon again.”
Great. She could hardly wait.
Chapter Six
Shea’s breath caught as they crested a ridge and a sprawling encampment came into view.
A vast number of tents clustered together, concealing the land with their mixed shades of tan, gray and white. The less frequent vibrant red, blue and greens stood out in stark contrast.
There weren’t hundreds of warriors down there. There were thousands. This wasn’t the small number of men she had assumed they would find.
No way was this a raiding party that would eventually make their way back to their own lands. This was a full scale invasion force.
The Lowlands were lost. It was just a matter of time.
The encampment was set in a small valley surrounded on two sides by steep hills. It wasn’t where she would have chosen to bed down for the night with an element of this size. For one thing, there were only two easy exits. That wasn’t necessarily bad as it limited the direction an enemy could attack from. But the camp was located a bit too far up river, which would make getting drinkable water difficult once thousands of men got done polluting it with their waste. They should have made camp at the opposite end of the valley, that way their waste would travel down river, and they could walk up the valley for clean water.
Shea grabbed for the horse’s neck as it moved under her. The beast followed the stallion in front of it, beginning the journey down into the valley.
Nine days had passed since Goodwin of Ria betrayed Shea’s group to the Trateri. That first night had set the tone for the ones to follow. Every night, once they made camp, Damon tied Shea to a tree while he attended to his own matters. When meal time came around, he untied her, let her eat and take care of personal business and then retied her to the tree, leaving a blanket over her for warmth against the cool nights. In the morning, he’d come for her, and they’d ride together until it was time to make camp again.
She was beginning to hate sleeping sitting up.
A chance to speak with Witt and Dane never came again and neither did an opportunity to escape.
Now they were about to join the main army and butterflies were swarming in Shea’s stomach. She hadn’t counted on such a big force. Perhaps she shouldn’t have waited to escape.
Too late now.
As they made their way into the transient city, it became obvious there was order to the chaos. The Trateri had spaced their tents far enough apart to create pathways. Banners containing images of animals, plants and objects flapped from poles at the entrance of each tent.
Most of the bigger tents had hitching posts hammered into the ground off to the side. The ones that didn’t had young boys or girls waiting to hold the horse of any visiting warriors. It was an efficient way to take care of the animals and keep the young ones out of mischief.
Nightfall was still hours away, but campfires already flickered in the cleared areas. Men and women lounged or stood around them, not paying attention to the group riding in.
Several fires had pots suspended above them. The tantalizing smell of food made Shea’s stomach grumble, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since lunch. It was past time for dinner, but they’d been so close to their destination that the Trateri had refused to stop for a break.
“Don’t worry; we’ll feed you once we dismount,” Damon said. He’d been quiet all day, not trying to entice her into conversation as he normally did.
Maybe he could sense Shea’s nerves and was giving her space to process things. She’d feel more grateful if he hadn’t insisted on tying her up every night.
“One thing I didn’t miss was all these damn people,” Damon groused as he steered his horse around a group arguing in the middle of the thoroughfare.
“There are women here,” Shea said with faint surprise. They’d passed several on the way into camp. Most carried weapons and were dressed in the same leather armor as the men.
Damon snorted. “Of course there are women. Did you think all Trateri were men?”
“Not at all. It’s just most Lowlanders and Highlander’s don’t allow their women to take part in war, and they certainly don’t let them become warriors.”
“Then they’re fools. Women are some of the most vicious fighters I’ve ever seen and can be just as capable as any man.”
“Makes sense. In nature, the female is likely to be the meaner one of the species, especially when it comes to the young,” Shea said.
“Not all of our women or men are warriors. There are many roles in our society. We would be starving if there were no cooks. We would lose every battle if there was no one to make our weapons. We leave it up to the individual to decide which of their skills they feel would provide the greatest benefit to their clan.”
Shea’s guild had much the same view about the roles of men and women. If you had the talent and skill to do your job, it was yours. It didn’t matter what reproductive organs you had. It surprised her that the Trateri held some of the same beliefs.
The pace had slowed to a crawl as the group pushed further into the heart of the encampment. Gradually, the path narrowed and became congested with people and horses.
“Move with a purpose, you maggot infested swine!” Damon shouted at a pair that were trying to figure out where they needed to go.
That wouldn’t have been so bad, but then they decided what they were looking for wasn’t in that direction. They tried to turn their horses, creating a jam that quickly became a shoving match.
“You can’t turn here.” Damon made a rude gesture. “Keep going until the next juncture and take one of the other avenues.”
The two didn’t seem inclined to listen and tried to pull their mounts around. Darius growled and surged forward, forcing people to move or be trampled. He cuffed both young men on the side of the head, grabbed the reins of both horses and rode forward, forcing the beasts to ride after him.