The shrill screech of metal on stone lingered, carrying gently across the afternoon air.
Takio stood, unmoving. Every fiber of his being thrummed, balanced at the very edge of motion. His eyes were fixed on the fabric of the tent, tracing out each rune and marking. His ears strained, snapping up every whisper and murmur around him.
The scout had been quite certain - Mian was here. The painted symbols marked the tent as his. And to top it all off, the nervous glances of the Narai that closed in around him and his bodyguards all but screamed their clanleader’s presence to the skies.
No, Mian was here.
He can’t possibly be so stupid, Takio whispered silently. Mian wouldn’t just ignore me. He has to know better. Right?
He could see her from the corner of his eye. Shiina paced between the rows of her followers, with the golden ribbons bound from each wrist and hip flowing behind her. Her expression was carefully neutral - but her eyes glowed a deep, wary red. He couldn’t begin to imagine the mix of emotions that had to be running through her head. The Narai were hers, after all.
Disobedient children must be punished, she said. The words appeared in his mind as though they were standing side by side. She’d picked his thoughts straight from his mind, he knew. I cannot speak as to his intelligence, Takio. We’re here, are we not?
True enough. If Mian had an ounce of sense in his head, they wouldn’t have had to swing back into the heartlands. There were limits to how stupid you could be, though.
Takio shifted, beginning to frown. The Narai pressed in around them were whispering more loudly, not bothering to hide their conversations anymore. Was Mian going to force his hand? If Takio had to go into the tent after him, dragging the clanleader out by the ear, he’d-
He straightened, grabbing hold of his surprise at the last moment and hiding it away. It was a tiny noise, easily overlooked.
But with his senses on high alert, the gentle scrape of hard leather against dirt and dead grass shrieked in his ear like a horn-call.
The fabric on the tent fluttered, pushed aside by a leathery hand. Mian stepped through into the sunlight a second later.
Takio bit back his sigh of relief, eyeing the clanleader coldly. Most of the Narai were still strangers to him. He couldn’t mee everyone, after all, and there were simply too many clans for him to meet face-to-face with each of the leaders. Given time, maybe, but not yet.
Mian, though. Mian he knew.
“Charred,” the older man said, lifting his head and standing tall. His hair hung in a shaggy halo about his face, the black of it salted through and soaked in grease. The look he gave Takio was every bit as careful as the young man would have expected. It was deliberate. “Flameweaver’s grace, I must have been blessed. For someone like you to cross my-”
“Oh, good,” Takio said, letting his arms relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity. His elbows ached, sore from bracing off the scabbard. “You remember our last meeting, then. That saves some time.”
Mian’s expression didn’t falter. “Far be it for me to forget.” He inclined his head, hiding his umber eyes behind closed lids for a fraction of a second. “Truly, my clan is pleased to greet you. It’s not the riches you’re accustomed to, I’m sure, but be welcome among-”
“If only we could stay for such pleasantries,” Takio interrupted. He glared across the scant few feet to where Mian waited, his orange eyes pricked. Beside him, he could hear Antiel shifting uncomfortably. Hearthfire would probably want him to be diplomatic. They’d probably hope for him to be-
*You are not Hearthfire’s. You are mine. Focus, boy.”
The corners of his lips curled up. Right.
Mian was watching him, every bit as expressionless as before. Takio smiled humorlessly. “If you remember our last visit to your tents, then surely you remember the reason? The things we talked about?”
“I...That’s…” Mian began, but stopped. His face had gone pale, somewhere in the midst of his stammered reply.
Takio arched one eyebrow, leaning back on his heels. “Am I wrong? Should I remind you? I understand your duties as clanleader must keep you busy. It would be so easy to forget.”
Kassien stood by his other elbow, and unlike Antiel, the bodyguard seemed perfectly at ease amidst the growing tension. Juro wouldn’t be far either, he knew. Tikeya and Reimm were nowhere in sight, but that was as it should be.
Mian coughed, his eyes tightening. “Ah...well, I believe-”
“I told you to leave the heartlands,” Takio snapped, coming to a decision in an instant. Mian could fumble around this all he wanted, but he would be in control of the conversation.
The clanleader stiffened, mulish stubbornness creeping over his expression. “It’s perfectly normal to shelter on the flats during-”
“It’s normal to winter in the grass flats,” Takio said. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of his sword, letting it rest against the dirt before him again. “But it’s not winter anymore, clanleader. The clans here do not welcome your continued presence.” He held the clanleader’s gaze, his eyes narrowing. “And there have been complaints. Misconduct. Does this sound familiar?”
Mian’s face grew longer with every word Takio spoke. “It’s not my godsdamned problem what other clans get to cryin’ about. Why, I’m just-”
“I told you to leave,” Takio said, and there was ice slipping into his tone for the first time. “Do you contest that?”
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Mian stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes flicked from side to side, bouncing between his clansmen and Takio’s entourage. He’d be doing the match, Takio knew. Counting. But as stupid as ignoring the Charred would be, attacking him would just be suicidal.
His skin flushed all the same, heat rising from his bones as his mana seared to life. It rippled on the very edge of control. Shiina had trained him well - as had Antiel, and all of the other shamans in Hearthfire. He’d be ready, he knew. In a second, he could have blackened scales shooting down to cover his skin, shielding him. Mian wouldn’t stand a-
His chin jerked, the tiny motion slipping out before he could snatch it back. Mian wasn’t his enemy. Or, he was, but-
Focus.
Right, Takio murmured, blinking away the last traces of his distraction.
“It’s not such an easy thing, Charred,” Mian said. The chill in his voice brought Takio back to reality in an instant. “It’s complicated, you know. I tried to get my kin moving. Thought we’d head northeast, hole up on the shorelines. It’s not quite pirate season, like. But it’s all a bit of a mess, and-”
“I didn’t ask if it would be easy,” Takio said, lifting himself higher. He was sturdy enough - but Mian was big. The more affronted the clanleader got, the taller he stood, and the smaller Takio felt. “I told you to leave. I’m sorry you can’t control your clan - although it does explain some of the reports that have reached me.”
Antiel was all but vibrating, quivering where he stood. The man had much he wanted to say, Takio knew. Too bad.
“Our normal ranges are dried out,” Mian said, his scowl growing. “The scouts we sent out reported back a month past. The whole place is nothin’ but scraggle and sand, he said. How am I supposed to take my people there? Would you have me starve?”
“If you’d come to the other clans and negotiated, as is proper, then there would be no trouble,” Antiel said, the words flying out at last. “And if that failed, you could have come to Hearthfire, and we would have-”
“Instead of working through the proper channels, you pushed your way onto lands that other clans have held for generations,” Takio said, taking one hand from his sword and laying it on Antiel’s shoulder. His advisor quieted himself, although Takio could see the expression on the older man’s face sour. “And you helped yourself to their herds while you did so.”
Mian didn’t say a word - but Takio saw a few of the Narai scattered around the crowd flinch. He shifted, letting his hand fall away from Antiel. “Well? Am I wrong?” He enunciated each word clearly, repeating the phrase again.
“We have not-”
“Think twice before you lie to me.” Takio’s voice lashed across the space between them like a whip.
Mian jumped. The clanleader brought himself under control a heartbeat later, regaining his composure, but it was too late. Takio had seen. Mian stared at him, chewing on his next words for a long, drawn-out minute. “I would never think of lying to our Lady’s champion,” he said finally. “We are loyal to her. And to you.”
The declaration was accompanied by a bow - albeit a small one. The clanleader danced on the edge of duty and offense, Takio knew. It was a fine line to walk, but he walked it well. He ran the tips of his fingers over the intricately worked grip of his sword, the motion tiny and well-hidden from the spectators.
“There may have been...incidents,” Mian said, his tone sour and glum. He was well and truly caught, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Our young men are excitable. Such is the way of the world, Charred. Perhaps in a fit of winter boredom, some chose to disobey our agreements.”
“Theft is theft,” Takio said, unblinking. “Keeping your men under control is your duty. And there are consequences when you don’t.”
Mian’s fingers trembled, flexing. Takio watched, gauging each and every motion from the clanleader. Don’t be stupid. This isn’t worth it. Just-
“We will, of course, honor the wishes of our Charred,” Mian said. However pleasant the words were by themselves, it looked as though it physically pained him to speak them. “I’ll order the children to gather the herds, and we’ll be off before the sun falls. But-”
“When the herds return, you will, of course, separate out each of the beasts you stole, and return them to their proper homes,” Takio said.
Mian nodded, after another long pause. “Yes, Charred. Of course. We wouldn’t-”
“And for each beast you stole, you’ll give one from your own herd.”
The whispers surrounding them ramped up, taking on new intensity as the judgement echoed around the camp. Mian’s eye twitched. Takio’s stare didn’t hesitate. He’d been dwelling on exactly how to handle the whole mess from the moment the first messages had arrived by hawk.
It was a minor infraction, he told himself. Thus far, it fell into the realm of normal competition for the Narai - and the punishment was fair, with that in mind. As much as Mian would scream and complain, it was important for Takio to establish order. Mian couldn’t be allowed to flaunt the orders he’d been given and act as though everything was normal.
Mian forced a smile, bowing again. The gesture was even slower than the one before. “Yes, Charred.”
Takio frowned, letting a bit of the tension ebb from his frame. “And I’ve heard that your men have been visiting establishments from here to Jaimar.” He smiled mirthlessly. “It was a long winter.”
Oh, he’d heard. He’d seen the reports - destroyed taverns and inns, businesses thrown into chaos by the too-forceful clan’s actions. They’d needed to be kept busy, and when they weren’t, they’d found other ways to entertain themselves. Much to Jaimar’s dismay.
Mian must have heard the same reports. His smile splintered, losing a bit of its arrogance. “Ah. Yes.” He sniffed, lifting a hand to rub across his face. His head tilted back and forth as he stewed, doing the math. “I’ll...see that any harm my men did is fixed by winter.”
“Good,” Takio said. The man wasn’t stupid after all, then. It made his job easier if Mian would work with him, reaching the inevitable conclusion on his own instead of being dragged there kicking and screaming. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“As is fair,” Mian said, a hair shy of spitting.
“Well, that’s that,” Takio said, letting a smile slip onto his face. “We’re not due back to Ranctur for a week or two, yet.” His eyes stayed fixed onto Mian’s face, carefully watching the clanleader’s expression.
Mian only bowed again, his face vanishing from sight. “Then...it‘s our pleasure to ride with you,” the older man said.
And Takio could make sure Mian actually followed through, this time. Both of them knew what the real motivations here were.
The crowd was nodding, though - and more than a few of the Narai looked pleased at the declaration. Not all of them could be happy at the games their leader was playing, Takio knew. Hopefully, with this, there’d be one less problem to deal with down the road. He couldn’t order Mian to go apologize to the clans whose lands he’d squatted on, after all. He wasn’t a child to be set in the corner or lectured. But with their herds returned and the damage repaired, most of Mian’s neighbors would be mollified. Probably. Even if a few were still unhappy, they’d-
His ears prickled. In the same instant, the murmurs of the crowd exploded. More than murmurs, he realized. There were open yells from the back of the masses, cries passed from throat to throat - and they were getting closer.
Shiina had vanished. Her presence was close at hand, but...distracted. Her disapproval was a spear through his thoughts - and her fury.
Tikeya and Reimm were still nowhere in sight. The pit of his stomach dropped away. He’d read the messages. The reports. He remembered what they’d said. He remembered every last word.
He’d really wanted this to be a simple matter of stealing sheep.
Before Takio could raise his own voice or call on his mana, before he could do anything at all to restore some semblance of order, the clan parted in front of them.
Tikeya and Reimm swept through in the gap, standing tall and imperious and glaring daggers at any of Mian’s clansmen who came close.
Together, the two of them dragged one of Mian’s men out into the open.