Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,57

of the exiles from Snake Clan when Fallon disbanded it. Their clan leader was good friends with Indra. They seem to hate everyone who is not them. It doesn’t matter what clan or division you’re in.”

“You’ve got an interesting concept here,” Braden told Charles. “It could use a little work and fine tuning, but the idea is sound.”

Charles blinked at the general as if just realizing who he was. His mouth dropped open as surprise dawned on his face. “You’re General Braden Thorisdon. You’re responsible for the victory against the Oorumicon.”

“I did fight in that battle, but there were many who fought alongside me.” Braden’s words were humble, sparking Shea’s curiosity.

Who were the Oorumicon? Were they another enemy of the Trateri that she didn’t know about? Had they been conquered and assimilated into Fallon’s clans? There was so much to learn about the Trateri, their culture and history. It seemed never-ending.

“This is such an honor,” Charles said. “I have listened to the stories and songs about you and have followed your path up the ranks.”

Before Braden could respond, a woman with blond hair pulled back in a single braid and wearing a determined expression approached. She was trailed by a tall thin man with a long face and a pained expression. He was Trateri; Shea was willing to bet the woman wasn’t.

“Eva, don’t,” the man warned in a soft voice.

His words caused the other woman to hesitate before she shrugged them off and lifted her chin. Her eyes fastened on Shea’s. “I’m told you can help us.”

Trenton turned and looked at the woman, edging her away from Shea with a subtle movement. “And who might you be?” he asked with a flirtatious grin.

Eva stopped short, eyeing Trenton for a moment before dismissing him and looking past him to Shea. “We’re having problems in the pasture. We’ve lost three horses in the past week and two others were injured. We need help from somebody who knows this place.”

“You should direct your complaints to your clan,” Braden said.

The woman’s face turned frustrated, her petite features belying the force of personality behind her eyes. “We have. They’ve neglected to do anything meaningful, and meanwhile we stand to lose even more.” Her eyes turned to Charles, an accusation in them. “This is the second time I’ve come here for help and have been turned away.”

Charles blustered, “The beast class isn’t here to help a throwaway do their job. We have important business that takes priority.”

Eva snorted. “You would think you people would care for your horses a little better, instead of just leaving them to be picked off one by one.”

“Eva,” the other man cautioned again, his eyes flicking from Braden to Trenton to Wilhelm.

Eva’s mouth tightened, and her chin lifted, stubbornness written on every line of her body.

“Do you know what’s attacking the herd?” Shea asked.

Eva’s eyes turned to Shea, a cautious hope in them. Shea didn’t know how this woman came to be among the Trateri, but it was clear she felt passionate about her horses.

“I found tracks. They look like bandisox, but they’re about four times bigger and a lot meaner.”

Bandisox were a rat-like animal that had bands of black circular rings around its body and white feet. It had a rodent-like face and a tail. They were normally not a threat. While carnivorous, they were too small to bring down a human and were mostly scavengers.

“You should take this to Mountain division,” Charles complained. “The herd belongs to them.”

Eva made a sound of frustration, one that sounded very like a growl. “I’ve already told you I did. They haven’t been able to help. Aren’t you all part of the same people?”

“While I sympathize with your plight, we are unable to help,” Braden said, his tone a clear dismissal.

Eva’s face fell before she rallied enough to hide her thoughts.

“I’ll help,” Shea said. “Can you show me where your herd is?”

Hope lit in Eva’s eyes, and she gave a sharp nod, before shooting the rest of the group a grim look.

Charles looked offended. “The Telroi is too important to waste her time on such insignificant matters.”

“I think I should be the judge in how my time is spent.” Shea kept her voice gentle to soften the rebuke.

Charles felt the sting of it, nonetheless. His face flushed and his mouth tightened in a frown.

“If you don’t mind the company, I’d be interested in seeing this as well,” Fiona said. She and two other men stood off to Shea’s left, watching them with curious