Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,2
who had been here on the day the forsaken attacked us. She was with one of the smaller groups who were supposed to lead part of the assailants away from us, but they had been ambushed before they could get into position. Eventually, they had managed to get away and assist us, so she was there to see the aftermath. I hadn’t expected anyone to notice me at the fight, but I suppose that’s a naïve thought, as all eyes are on me now.
It’s only been ten days since the confrontation, and the high chief has called all of the tribes together to recoup, with the last of them arriving today. As there will be a party, there’s going to be a ceremony, which Revna has asked me to take part in.
You don’t attack the mountain tribes and not expect them to retaliate. Even though the attack was aimed at me, the tribespeople want revenge. The elf queen knew what she was doing when she attacked the tribespeople in their sacred meeting place. Throughout the continent of Morrowmer, they are known for their strength and brutality in battle. They’re hardy people, living a simple life in small, travelling clans in the mountains, where they spend their time training and fighting, bringing glory to their tribes. While each tribe lives separately and has their own chief, they also have an elected high chief who rules over them as a whole and maintains their sacred stones in the meeting place.
So for the attack to have happened here was a very calculated and deliberate plot. We had only just arrived, and it had taken us days to travel to the meeting place. Somehow, the forsaken had managed to get here in armour, almost silently, from Galandell, which was double the distance we had travelled. The tribes are on edge and want answers, the atmosphere thick and tense. When Revna told me about the party, I agreed. Everyone needs something to look forward to, even if it makes my gut clench with anticipation.
We’ve fallen into an easy silence, which is something I like about the woman. She doesn’t feel the need to fill gaps in conversation with pointless chatter. A trait which seems to be normal for the tribes from what little time I’ve spent with them. I watch Vida through the mirror as she continues to work on my hair. Tor explained she had grown up in the same tribe as him, but the Eternal Brothers Tribe has more of a backwards view when it comes to women in positions of power. As such, Vida never fit in there, so when the opportunity came to train as a guardian of the stones at the meeting place, she took it. She’s been here ever since and is an expert on their religion and beliefs, so the fact she offered to help me get ready for the ceremony today is a great honour.
We share the same pale skin, dark hair, and eyes, but looking at the two of us together, we’re completely different. I could blame it on our stature, her thicker frame from her giant ancestors, large muscles from years of training, and my delicate bone structure thanks to my elvish genetics. However, I think it has something to do with the way we hold ourselves. When Vida walks into a room, she commands attention. She knows she deserves to be here and that she belongs amongst these people. When I look at myself in the mirror, I see the shadows of my past haunting me. Underneath all of the makeup, I still see the slave girl.
Quickly averting my gaze from the mirror, I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t think like that. I thought I’d moved past that. All of a sudden, I can hear crickets chirping and a gentle breeze blowing through the trees, while a comforting set of arms wrap around me, grounding me as the scents of the forest and my mate fill my lungs. Except I’m not in the forest, I’m in a tent high up in the mountains, and I’m certainly not surrounded by any of my mates. Smiling, I open the bond between Vaeril and me further, letting him deeper into my mind, remembering the night he’s showing me fondly—the night we formed our mating bond. His soothing presence grows, and although we can’t talk mind to mind, we don’t need to, I simply savour the quiet calm of our connection.