The Wind's Call (The Broken Lands #4) - T.A. White Page 0,164

decreed something.

Eva hesitated, her gaze going to Caden’s again. She drew strength from his presence even if their time together was drawing to an end. It was what gave her the courage to speak again.

“What will happen to Kent and the rest of throwaways among the Trateri?” she asked, taking a chance.

Vincent and the rest of the traitors had made the question of the throwaways’ existence very tenuous. Fallon and the Trateri could very well decide that all throwaways were no longer necessary and presented a danger to their army.

“What would you have me do?” Fallon asked.

Eva had to step carefully. Fallon might sound reasonable, but she sensed she was on very tricky terrain. He could change his mind at a moment’s notice and not even her new position would save her.

She swallowed hard. Her hands shook as she glanced at Caden again. He wouldn’t follow someone who was mercurial or unjust.

“You want to unite the Broken Lands, but how long do you think you’ll be able to hold them?” she asked, taking a chance.

Fallon’s head tilted, looking at her the way she imagined he’d look at a foe on the battlefield. “Do you think they will be able to pry control from my hands?”

“Maybe not today or even a few years from now. Resentment festers. Eventually enough of them will ally and then people will die.” Eva glanced at the baby in Fallon’s arms. “It might not happen during your rule. Maybe it’ll happen during hers.”

Fallon’s went still, a wolf scenting blood.

“If the throwaways continue to feel like second-class citizens, your rule will always be challenged. Already, some work for your enemy.” Eva was under no illusion Vincent was the only mole inserted into Fallon’s army. She knew Fallon and Caden suspected the same.

Fallon’s expression didn’t shift as he cradled Rowan gently, completely at odds with the promise of death on his face. “Did you know the Trateri have always taken people from the Lowlands and added them to our clans? When we raided your cities and villages, we would take the strong and sometimes the weak. Those we took were told, your old life is dead, your new one is all that is left to you. Find your place. Rise or perish. Many chose to fade, never once fighting for a place. They took what they were given and never strove for more. Others fought for a spot among us. They earned the respect of the horde in different ways, adding their talents to ours. They climbed our ranks, some became leaders.”

Fallon glanced meaningfully at her. “Others became herd mistresses to a creature who resembles a god.”

Eva blinked rapidly as he let his words sink in.

He rocked Rowan as she made a small sound, cooing at her before spearing Eva with an intense gaze. “Now, you’re asking me to wipe away a tradition that goes all the way back to when we were exiled from our homelands and became nomads.”

Eva held his gaze, not daring to look away. She didn’t know how to respond, his words making her question what she’d been so sure was right. There was a certain poetry in what he said. She saw now why Caden would follow this man into the darkest parts of these lands. He was compelling. Charismatic.

“You intend to establish a new age,” Caden said when Eva didn’t speak. “Perhaps it is time for new ways to be explored. Isn’t that the whole basis of your treaty with the pathfinders?”

The Warlord’s expression lightened just the faintest bit, as if Caden’s words were an unexpected surprise, one he relished.

“The pathfinders allied with us willingly. Would you have me reward people who have fought us at every step? Who turn on their own so easily?” Fallon asked, lifting a mocking eyebrow.

And that was the crux of the issue. The Lowlanders had lost respect over and over again. How did the Trateri trust people who so easily cast away their own?

Eva didn’t know but she very much feared the answer was going to be important to the future.

“They don’t see the possibilities because they’re stuck in the past,” Caden said. “Reiterate the chance in front of them. Show them that we will accept those who are willing to make a home with us.”

“Send home the ones who don’t and have new tithes chosen. Ask for volunteers,” Shea inserted. “Half the problem is they miss their families. As long as the villages meet the quotas who cares if the person fulfilling the role changes