hurt the one most precious to me. Do not imagine for a moment that I retain even an ounce of mercy for you.”
“Your precious one,” Indra nearly spat out the last two words, “is nothing more than a mongrel’s leavings. She is not fit for even the lowliest of our people. I only wish I had finished her when I had the chance.”
“But you couldn’t,” Shea snapped. “You weren’t good enough. This lowly mongrel beat you. I won. You lost.”
Fallon’s lips twisted into a semblance of a smile as his hands dropped from Shea. “This woman is going to rule at my side as I conquer these lands and lead my people into a golden age of prosperity. Our children will rule long after we have left this world and their children after them.”
Shit. He really did plan on children.
No, she hadn’t agreed to that yet.
“They will do this never having heard of you or the Snake Clan. In my future, there are only six clans. I am going to wipe every person who ever claimed kinship with the snake from this world. You have a child among the snake, if I remember correctly.”
“No,” Indra moaned, her mask of calm superiority crumbling. “You can’t. He’s just a babe. He has nothing to do with this.”
Shea felt a stirring of unease.
“Fallon-,”
Caden grabbed her and rasped, “Hush. Trust him.”
“I can and I will. You know me well enough to know I never say anything I don’t mean. Give us a name, and I will merely disband your clan. Those who were ignorant of this plot will be allowed to petition the other clans for entry. This is the best offer you will get.”
“No other clan will take someone from a clan tainted with this,” she said bitterly. “You will doom my son to grow up clanless.”
“At least he will grow up,” Fallon said fiercely. “Now, a name. I will not ask again.”
Indra sobbed. Snot ran down her face as her skin turned red and blotchy. “Please!”
“You brought this on yourself,” Caden said. “You knew the consequences if you failed. You’ve even enacted them on failed challengers yourself.”
When she didn’t answer, Fallon made a sound of frustration and stood.
“Cale. It was Cale,” she cried as he turned his back. As if released from a dam, her words poured out. “It was his idea to alter the maps given to the scouts. He said the more men you lost, the lower the morale. He was the one who had your maps exchanged for an older set and marked the route next to the spidren nest as safe. It was all him.”
Fallon bent his head and rubbed his forehead. The curve of his neck spoke of sorrow.
Caden looked sour but unsurprised. Neither man looked shocked, more like resigned.
“It doesn’t matter,” Indra suddenly said. “You may have won this battle, but we’ve finally managed to decipher the Highlander’s maps. When I don’t return, Cale will take them and head north. Once he gets his hands on those weapons, it won’t matter how great your army is.” Sobbing nearly hysterically now, Indra collapsed, sinking facedown into the ground.
What? Shea started for the woman. She needed to know details. Had they deciphered all of it? Or just parts?
Fallon nodded once, sharply to his men.
The one on the left drew his sword and swung down on her neck, cutting Indra off in mid sob. The air came alive with the sharp zing of metal clearing scabbard and then the aborted quick cries of men before they died.
It was over almost before it had begun. At the end, every conspirator lay dead in a pool of their own blood.
“You ride with me,” Fallon ordered, grabbing hold of her good arm and hustling her towards the horses. “Caden, prepare the men to ride. We need to get back to Darius. Shea, how accurate are those maps?”
“They’re dead.”
“Yes.”
“You killed them.”
“Yes.”
“You killed them all.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Shea couldn’t help the question spilling from her mouth.
She understood death and violence. She couldn’t get away from it as a pathfinder. Both existed out in the remote wilds. It was a dangerous world, one where death shadowed your footsteps, waiting for you to make that one mistake that would destroy everything.
This, she did not understand. Not this wholesale slaughter.
“They betrayed me. There was no way they were leaving this place alive.”
That was not an answer.
“I don’t-“
“Shea.” He hauled her around to face him. “We are not Lowlanders. We rarely exile our people. We have no jails. This is