Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,88

made it quite clear that Fallon—and only Fallon holds his loyalty. That’s fine, both of you are Anateri. I know that means something to you, and I can respect that. You do your job, and I’ll do mine.”

Shea meant every word she said. She understood that their first duty was to their Warlord. That was fine. She’d been the one to confuse matters by thinking they had a quasi-friendship going. That was on her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

They’d arrived at the place where she would conduct her class for the day. She gave Wilhelm a nod before turning and heading to the front of the class, picking up a list so she could note the names of those in attendance. Wilhelm let her go without trying to engage her again.

“Alright, let’s get started,” she told the men and women assembled. “Yesterday we went over what trail sign to look for to track a trihorn boar. Today, we’re going a little deeper into the forest and you’re going to practice looking at their tracks. Any questions?”

A woman raised her hand. Shea gestured for her to speak.

“When are we going to learn about the mist?”

Shea heaved an internal sigh. That question had been asked in every class she’d taught. “That’s a different class. Your division leader needs to recommend you for placement. Any other questions.”

There were a few rumblings, but no one else raised their hand. Good.

*

Fallon stifled his impatience with his council, which was made up of the various clan heads that were in camp. The clan leaders and their betas for Horse, Lion, Earth, Rain, and Ember were all present. Rain and Ember were clans who had recently made the long journey from the Outlands to join the rest of the clans.

He’d had reports that their members were causing minor disruptions throughout camp and had been less than willing when their warriors had been assigned to the other divisions. There had already been several fights that had landed the offenders on punishment duty.

“All I’m saying is there is no reason to sit here and do nothing,” Joseph, the beta for Rain, said. The rest of the clans looked disgruntled that a beta was being so outspoken in a formal session. Normally only the heads spoke. The betas were there simply to know what was going on in case they ever had to step into the position of leader.

“You and your clan have not been here the past few months,” Henry, the leader of Horse clan, explained. “You do not understand the deeper strategy or the dangers afoot. Your plan would see many deaths.”

“We’re Trateri, not Lowlanders. We do not let fear of death dictate our actions,” the clan leader of Ember said. Zeph was a tall man with dark skin and dark eyes. He was one of the few Trateri to grow a beard. He was also known for his skill with bow and arrow and spear. His people were great hunters in their homelands and were second only to the Earth clan in creating weapons. “Your time here has made you soft, old friend.”

“There is a difference between courage and foolhardiness,” Fallon said before there could be any more argument. “Every hunter learns their prey and its habits before they strike. It is the same concept here. You are used to fighting the south-eastern cities. This is a different scenario, one that requires patience and learning a different set of tactics.”

Ben spoke, his eyes solemn. “Our enemy here is not the Lowlanders. We lose more men to beasts than we do in battle.”

Zeph grimaced. “There is no honor in such a death.”

Many in Fallon’s army agreed. It was causing dissent. The forced inactivity was making the discontent more vocal. Fallon needed to give them a direction for their frustration.

“My people are getting restless with all this sitting around and doing nothing,” Van said. He lounged in his chair with all the grace of a feline.

“What about a tournament?” Henry’s face was thoughtful.

That could work. It would give his soldiers an outlet and let them compete against each other for the glory of their clans.

The other clan leaders looked like they were considering the idea.

“There could be a prize for the winner,” Ben said. “My blacksmiths have several expert caliber swords that could be offered up.”

“Perhaps a prize from all the clans depending on the event,” Zeph said.

There were several murmurs of agreement.

“This still does not solve our problems,” Gawain said. He was the head of Rain, a