Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,3

frowning thoughtfully at the spot Shea indicated.

“That’s the horse pasture,” Calvin said.

“That we don’t use,” Shea said. “There are too many dangerous plants that could kill the horses. The horse master said he planned to move them further afield where there was less danger.”

“So, you’re saying the horses are more important than Ember or Rain.”

Shea fought down a sense of frustration. That wasn’t what she’d said at all.

“Not at all. Merely that they have the tools to make this spot safe for their people whereas the horses do not.”

One elder harrumphed. “I say the horses are more important than either of those clans.”

“They could see it as an insult on our part,” another cautioned.

Shea forced herself not to roll her eyes. Because putting them in a spot where shit would be dumped on them every morning was less of an insult.

She couldn’t take her sitting position any longer and shifted, easing her weight off her legs. They prickled with an angry buzzing sensation as feeling rushed back into them.

Daere aimed a disapproving stare her way. She probably thought Shea was showing weakness she couldn’t afford, but Shea shrugged off the other woman’s disapproval. If they chose to see her inability to kneel in one position for an indeterminate length of time as weakness, they would learn the exact depths of her strength should they choose to test her.

She propped her chin on her hand and listened as the elders debated the merits of the two spots. Daere gave her another frown and tilted her head as if to invite Shea to insert her opinion. Shea gave her a blank expression and feigned confusion as if she didn’t know exactly what Daere wanted. Shea wasn’t a peacemaker. If Daere wanted this fixed, she’d have to do it herself.

Daere’s lips tightened before she aimed a serene expression at the rest of the group. “How about we give them a choice?” Daere said, stepping into the blossoming argument. “Let them decide which of the two areas would fit their needs best.”

Gala and Calvin listened with attentive expressions before sharing a look with the rest of the group. They both nodded as a chorus of agreement came from the other elders.

Shea kept her heartfelt thanks that the meeting was over inside. She placed her hands on the table to begin leveraging her way to her feet.

“On to the next issue,” Calvin said.

Shea froze. No. They were done. How could there be more?

Her eyes swung to Daere’s, who gave her a meaningful stare combined with the barest hint of a victorious smirk before turning her attention back to the conversation. Shea’s shoulders drooped, and she settled back into place. Her chance to escape the tedium had disappeared.

*

Shea strode down the small path sandwiched between several tents as she tried to ignore the woman pacing by her side. Daere was the epitome of the perfect Trateri woman—graceful with just a hint of that ferocious fire that said she would eviscerate any who got in her way. Adorned in the abundance of jewelry preferred by those Trateri not of the warrior caste, Daere’s clothes were complex and yet simple, speaking of the highest craftsmanship.

Next to her, Shea felt like a homely usurper, wearing the pants and blouse she normally wore when on the trail. She’d had a much different plan for the day before Daere forced her into that meeting using placid smiles and artful words.

“We have time for a quick break for the midday meal and then we’ll need to meet with the blacksmiths and armorers,” Daere said as she smiled and nodded when three women greeted her in passing.

Shea stopped and turned to Daere. “What are you talking about?”

Daere was too refined to huff, but Shea was beginning to learn her expressions. The other woman was frustrated with her.

“The blacksmiths and armorers,” she said in a patient voice even as the pleasant expression on her face grew strained. “There is a dispute that you will need to mediate.”

Shea tilted her head. “I know nothing of either discipline. How do you expect me to mediate when I don’t know any of the particulars?”

This time Daere’s sigh was long suffering. “You just need to listen and then offer your best opinion.”

“But if I don’t know what I’m talking about, how can my opinion matter?”

Daere’s smile dropped from her face. “I will be there to guide you.”

That’s what Shea was afraid of.

Daere gave her another smile, this one a thin stretching of lips that in no way reached