Divina

I have never been more glad to see someone knock out my son in my life. My sigh of relief is barely audible but heartfelt.

Those things we've been fighting are nothing in comparison to the creatures that just arrived. Creatures so steeped in magic and power I can practically see it on them.

The Sidhe. The royalty of the fae courts. Creatures said to be immortal. That even death is a type of evolution for them, and Sachi nearly attacked their spokesperson.

Gonna need to check on him and give him a good ear boxing.

Their love of speaking in long complicated sentences is annoying, and many are already losing patients but I listen carefully to all his words.

"We were willing to broker a working relationship with the fae. But the actions of your people are discouraging," I quickly interrupt, moving forward.

"Are you to speak for your people?" He asks in his beautiful voice that is enhanced to be audible throughout the camp by magic.

"I am to speak for my people until our leaders are of sufficient health that they are able to do so," I say.

I have lived with the tribes practically all my life. Though the women that want my mate sometimes remind me of my foundling origins, I'm a tribeswoman through and through. And all who know me know this to be true.

"These are of a minor faction within the courts that thought to gain power through acquiring your wealth," the pale horned one says gesturing to the 113 kneeling fae still living that participated in the battle.

They aren't cowering in the Sidhes' presence though they show deferrence. Implying the sidhe that came here are important but not an immediately lethal or powerful, or they have enough backing not to need to worry.

At the end of the day we don't know anything about these creatures.

There are 14 of the new sidhe fae present. Their initial show of power was impressive.

Managing to somehow separate every combatant without touching anyone has left no one eager to challenge them. Especially not after such a long fight. No one except my son that is.

A good boxing to teach him some sense.

Everyone is sporting some sort of injury, the fighting having involved a large number. This level of violence is unheard of even for us with even the Savages being weary. I'm surprised to see the Jotnar chieftain still standing. She walks towards the 14 new fae as though taking a stroll, spine straight, arms in hand.

I don't really trust the Jotnar. They have too many secrets out there in the mountains and they are hiding their men for some reason. There is no ways they have so many women, and yet refuse to intermarry among the tribes.

I intercept her and we walk to the fae together. She gives me a nod and gestures to the Seers to come.

We all meet and face the new fae. The ones calling themselves sidhe. The bald warrior sidles over, accompanied by the redhead, the old man and the woman with the strange aura.

The fae spokesman studies the redhead girl curiously. Even leaning slightly forward and sniffing the air around her. He smiles and says something to the others of his ilk in his musical language. They hardly react on their faces but their bodies show curious interest.

"We expect reparations for this unfounded attack on our people." I say quickly. Thinking about my mate sitting in the long house with a protruding gut wound. A very bad one.

"What reparations are you expecting?" He says, waving his arms around like he has no part in all this. I doubt that.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

These 14 were probably watching from afar expecting things to go their way. Little knowing the difference between normal humans and Barbarians, or simply not caring enough to spy on us before attacking. Arrogant.

"We expect for your healers to see to all our wounded and your architects to help rebuilt a settlement here."

I say quickly before anyone else messes this up. I want my mate whole again. And Barbarians may be good at many things, but building and healing isn't one of them.

Thinking of the future, this is the first intertribal settlement we've had since our people separated into tribes. If we scatter again it will result in further separation and a return of raiding one another while waiting for the Sandorians to mobilise.

That mobilisation could take anything from a year to five years if they build a large enough force. Especially considering they've been at relative peace for over 30 years. Inevitably the Sandersonians will come North, they want our resources but now they'll better prepare while we Barbarians squabble.

Best find another way to keep the tribes united and if not against a common enemy then surely in building common interests here.

Sandies will come. Their kings and nobles will not be able to resist the allure of possible spiritual weapons. Until then what keeps us together?

After conferring with his counterparts the pale sparkly, strange fae with the delicate white stag horns looks to us. Seemingly please.

"This can be done. We can heal most physical wounds and building will be a project to take many months. Surely this means our peoples can co-exist and benefit from each other," he says nodding.

"Yes, we could help build you a permanent settlement here. I can feel that this is claimed land."

He says looking at each of us scratching his beardless chin. Another sidhe fae moves forward, a more powerful fae by the spokesman's reaction of surprise and deference. Whether by actual power or position I'm not sure yet.

But I am interested by the Seer’s reaction to this idea of building a 'permanent settlement' or 'claimed' lands. The sidhe's Sandersonian seems perfect so the must be a reason to emphasize those words, something to think about.

"We can make your settlement larger and work more diligently if we are paid," the new sidhe says bluntly.

All these fae creatures are beautiful to look at when calm, almost breath takingly so. But they are also very alien, in any case we have seen the true face of the fae these days of battle. They possess a fascinating beauty more than a sexual one, like watching a deer-lioness on the prowl. Beautiful, fascinating, but absolutely deadly.

As they speak the contrast between their faces now and how vicious their faces turn when in battle is stark. I doubt many tribesmen are thinking of bedding any of these creatures. Though I may be overestimating the tribesmen's intelligence, and some of the women at that.

"What of the envoys sent to your lands. How have they been treated by your questioners?" Chief Frey asks.

I'm ashamed to say I had completely forgotten about them. We send envoys to the fae, the elves, the dwarves and the last independent human kingdom we are aware of, the Maori. All with celestial iron ingots. We made it into ingots for easy transport but some people do it differently from our smelting.

"Ahhh... those young men. Yes they are well taken care of though they were put to work." The beautiful woman with a slight green natural complexion that reminds you of nature and wholesome plants says.

Her horns are that of a goat. Twisted at the side of her head but thick and short. They have gold lining gilded into them in decoration, it all looks naturally occurring though.

"What pray tell, kind of work have they been doing?" The chief of the Jotnar asks. I appreciate her asking after Norseman. It sets a good president and means she is thinking of the bigger picture.

"We have not seen a human species this virile since we encountered the Highlanders. And the energy you have when fucking, especially when induced into your battle spirits," She shivers and smiles as if she is having a pleasant memory. I swallow and look at the chief and the Seers.

What she is describing shouldn't be possible. The berserker rage and sex are polar opposites. It has been tried and an aroused Barbarian cannot rage. A Raging Barbarian cannot arouse, this is known. Probably the only thing that saved lives in the early days of the curse is sex.

We all stay quiet in case we give away our surprise. The bald man in his bloody and injured state finally speaks.

"And what of the loot these warriors have already taken, is it not to be returned to the tribes?"

I'm surprised because I didn't see any of them loot our dead.

"Return what you took," the green female says.

All of a sudden axe's, swords, daggers. All made of celestial steel fall on the grass at our feet. My mouth isn't the only one gaping as I watch the display. These are too numerous and too big for them to have had them up their sleeves. I shake my head and close my mouth.

"Maybe there is more we can trade between our people yes?" The green goat horned female says with a smile taking off her ring.

"This is a ring of holding. Each varies in how much it can store but it is a big space, and weighs nothing. What would this be worth to your people?"

Frey nods. "Yea, we have a lot to discuss with you. Let us confer again after the healing. We would offer you accommodations but we have very little as it is. We give you guest rights, with the hope of a new friendship with your people after satisfactory reparations are made."