“Gutless, huh?”
That was a pretty strong word considering the number of times she’d saved their warlord. The expressions on some of the faces in the crowd said they agreed with the woman. If it had just been Shea’s reputation on the line, she’d have let them go on believing that. Eamon, Buck and the others didn’t deserve that stigma, and it wouldn’t be long before slurs against her honor became slurs against theirs. That, Shea wouldn’t stand for.
“When’s the last time you journeyed into the wild by yourself?” Shea asked.
It was a safe question and one Shea already knew the answer to. The Snake Clan wasn’t especially known for their bravery. They, and their clan leader, liked to stay close to the combined might of Fallon’s army.
Shea could tell she had scored a point from the soft mutterings that traveled through the crowd. The fact that Snake Clan tended to hand their field duties off to other clans was a bit of a sore point among the Trateri.
“I’ll make it easier on you.” Shea had no such intention. “When’s the last time you ventured out in a party of four, including yourself. That’s how many scouts normally set out on a reconnaissance mission.”
There was a pregnant silence. The crowd behind her grew more restless.
“That has nothing to do with this,” the woman tried to deflect. “You’re not one of us. How dare you try to get close to Hawkvale?”
“Never, huh?” Shea rolled right over the woman’s words. “You know, somehow gutless just doesn’t have the right amount of impact coming from you.”
“You forgot idiot,” Eamon’s voice rumbled from the crowd.
Shea snapped her fingers and pointed at him in acknowledgement of the reminder.
Eamon and Buck stood at the edge of the clearing, having pushed their way through the growing crowd.
A year ago, even five months ago, Shea would have let the woman have her say before ignoring whatever insults came her way. Not today, though.
“How about this? I’ll give you a chance to prove how gutless and stupid I am. We’ll each take two weeks’ worth of supplies and walk for a week in whatever direction strikes us. Then at the end of that week we’ll find our way back to the camp.”
“I’m not- That’s not- I’m not doing that,” the woman sputtered. She looked around for support. The people in the crowd dropped their eyes. Even the men and women wearing Snake Clan colors avoided her gaze.
“Oh?” Shea asked, arching one eyebrow. “It should be easy. After all, if a gutless idiot can do it, you should have no problems.”
Seeing that she wasn’t going to be able to win against Shea, the woman changed tactics.
“I don’t have to stand for this. I am a clan leader and what are you? Nothing. You’re filth. Even your own people didn’t want you. They gave you to us as tribute.”
It was a good tactic. Shea had to give her that. Its intention was to strike at a fact that should have been gnawing at Shea all these months. But, Shea’s people hadn’t been the ones to abandon her. Birdon Leaf might have orchestrated everything to get rid of a pathfinder they found inferior, but Shea didn’t consider those back country dirt grubbers her people.
The only ones Shea considered her own were the pathfinders. She doubted they even knew she was missing. Their organization didn’t keep close tabs on each other.
“Enough Indra,” Fallon ordered in a low voice.
Indra’s mouth snapped shut her next retort. Even Shea found what she had been about to say dying on her tongue.
“This is my decision. I’ll consider any further words against it a blood challenge.”
Faced with that ultimatum, Indra backed down but not before sending an impotent glare at Shea.
“A moment, if you please, my Hawk,” Eamon inserted while stepping into the clearing.
A small smile tugged at Fallon’s lips, and he gave a short nod.
Eamon lifted his chin in acknowledgement before a mask fell over his features, hardening them into a merciless cold granite. Shea blinked. She’d never seen that expression on Eamon before, not even when she’d pissed him off.
“The Western Wind scouts will no longer guide any Snake Clan expeditions,” he informed the crowd.
“You can’t do that,” Indra shouted.
“I can and I have. Gutless idiots have to stick together.”
“You don’t have the authority.”
“He does,” Henry inserted.
“My lord Hawkvale, promoted me to scout master of the Western Wind division as a reward for my part in his rescue.”
“He can’t do that.” Indra’s voice rose as she turned to Fallon.
“He can. He did,” Fallon told her lazily. “Perhaps you will be more careful in your insults next time.”
Indra’s hands clenched into fists at her side. She swept away as her followers melted into the crowd as if they had never been there.
The volume in the crowd rose as she disappeared.
“Disperse.” Fallon’s voice cut through it all, leaving no room for argument.
Faster than Shea had thought possible, the normally stubborn Trateri scattered, leaving only Fallon, the old man, Trenton, the Horse Clan’s leader and Shea standing in the clearing.
The Horse Clan’s leader gave her a small nod before continuing on his way.
Trenton grabbed her around the neck and tugged her in his wake. “Come on, you. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I thought there was another phase.”
Trenton grinned at her. “Don’t worry. You can be clean for it. In fact, it’s kind of a requirement.”
“Hmm.”
Chapter Twenty
“What’s the verdict?” Fallon asked.
Meynard’s bushy white eyebrows lowered over his eyes thoughtfully. “She’s not much of a bodyguard.”
Fallon waited patiently, knowing it was useless to rush Meynard when he was in a mood.
They already knew Fallon would never let her place herself in danger in his stead.
“Her sword skills are shit. She’s got pretty good endurance though.”
“Pretty good,” Caden snorted. “That’s an understatement. He threw everything he could think of to get her to cry mercy, and she just kept on coming. I’ve known hardened warriors who have puked after the sessions he put her through, and she acted like it was no big deal.”
Meynard smacked his lips in displeasure at Caden’s interruption. With a shrug, he conceded the point.
“Would’ve liked to see what sort of training got those sorts of results,” Meynard said. “Maybe I could use it to light a fire under some of these lazy slugs you keep sending me.”
Caden snorted again. Meynard said that about every batch of young warriors he trained.
Fallon felt a thread of impatience at the direction of the conversation.
“Will she pass?” he asked.
The other two got quiet.
“Well?” Fallon rumbled.
“Hard to say.” Caden spat on the ground.
“She’s got her endurance going for her, and she has spirit,” Meynard added. “With the right kind of training, she might have given Trenton a run for his money. And did you see how she stood up to Indra? Not many willing to take that viper on.”