Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,7
view. Thanks to weeks of travelling, my body is used to such conditions, so I’m no longer out of breath from actions like that as I would have been when we first escaped.
Reaching the top, I pause briefly as they notice my arrival, hearing their whispers and seeing their pointed fingers. Tor is just behind me, his presence steadying me, and I take a moment to remember why I’m here. I can’t see Revna, my elves, or the sacred stones, thanks to the sheer volume of people who are gathered.
“I thought only the chiefs had to attend.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see Tor gazing out at the sea of tribespeople with an odd expression. It almost seems like he’s worried, but just as I think it, his face is wiped clean.
“They were the only ones who had to attend, but it’s open to everyone, and because all of the tribes were here for the high chief’s announcement anyway…” Shrugging, he brings his eyes back to mine, and I hear the apologetic tone in his voice. He knows I struggle in situations where I’m watched by large numbers of people. Nothing good has ever happened to me in those times. Memories flash through my mind of being dragged into the chapel in Arhaven as a slave when they declared I was to be killed before the Great Mother blessed me and Grayson saved me. Or when I denied the King of Arhaven publicly before turning and walking away from him, only to run and free his enemy. Of standing up to the elf queen in front of her people and defending my mate. All of those occasions have had consequences and led me to where I am today, so I understand they needed to happen, but they could have all gone disastrously wrong, and I still have nightmares about them.
“You’re all as bad as Naril for gossip.” I try to pass off my discomfort with a small laugh, but I know he sees through it. “When is Revna going to do her announcement anyway?” Trying to change the subject, I start to walk again. There’s no point in putting it off for any longer. I’ll only make myself more nervous. One person or one hundred people, it doesn’t change what I’m doing.
“I’m not sure, but it makes sense to do it when everyone is gathered together,” he replies, his voice low behind me, and I begrudgingly have to agree that he’s right. As the high chief, only she has the power to call together all of the tribes, some of which have travelled from the far reaches of the mountains to get here. Now that they have all finally arrived and learned of the attack on their people, on their sacred holy place, they are angry and want answers. It makes sense Revna will tell them today after the ceremony, seeing as they’re already gathered.
We stop talking as we reach the edge of the crowd. The weight of their stares is heavy, which is nothing new, but the variation is unusual. I’m used to being looked at in disgust, fear, and awe, but I hadn’t expected to see those expressions on the faces here. Just what do these people believe about me? I’ve heard a couple of whispers about ‘the lost child,’ the parable told of a child blessed by one of their goddesses that was lost to them, and it was said that whoever was to find the child would bring great honour to their tribe. However, the looks that are being sent my way have to be about more than just a story told over a campfire. I try not to let the stares get to me, but as we get closer, my eyes run over a particular group that’s standing together but slightly apart from everyone else. They must be from the same tribe, as they are all dressed alike. The three red painted slashes across their faces from forehead to jaw make them appear ferocious, but the narrowed eyes and clenched fists as they watch me walk past make them look fiercer. The tribesman who I assume is the leader stands at the front, his hand resting on the hammer at his side, and a sneer adorns his face as our eyes meet. I don’t know what I’ve done, but for some reason, this tribe hates me.
I don’t need to look at the tribesman behind me to know Tor is glaring at this mystery tribe. I