I startled when another man walked from the trees.
Impulsively, I dropped to my knees so I remained out of sight. Alen walked up to Father. Too far away, their conversation was muted, but father waved his hand around at the majestic oaks, pointing to numerous trees. Alen followed his indicating gestures, concentrating deep in thought, his face stony and hard.
Disharmony ran between the two clan leaders—I didn’t need to be a fully trained baduri to read that much.
Crawling forward, and straining to hear, I slunk through the tall weeds and grass. “It’s the perfect position. I’ve watched the stars for many nights, the alignment is strongest here.”
Alen shook his head. “But these trees, they’ve kept our ancestors’ safe, they’ve provided a home for our settlement—”
“And now I shall provide something stronger. Something that will stand still even when we are nothing but dust blowing in the wind, and the stars are still above the ground on which our footsteps have long been unable to walk.”
Father turned, and I dropped lower, holding in a gasp with the palm of my hand. His face was taut and haggard, his deep eyes set within hollowed prominent bones. He hadn’t looked like that a couple of days ago? Had he?
They discussed a delivery, expected within a few days, and then Alen walked off, back towards the settlement, his back ramrod straight.
I paused a moment, unwilling for Father to know I’d been eavesdropping, but before I could straighten and feign a natural arrival, he spoke. “Mae, I know you’re there.”
Struggling from the ground but dropping my eyes, I walked towards him, picking a path over the knotted weeds and uneven earth. “Father, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was coming to find you.”
I met his gaze, scared to face the haggard man I’d seen talking to Alen. Frowning, I saw only the face I’d always known. A little aged in places, hair white and flowing. The ghostly glimmer I’d caught from my spot in the weeds was gone. “Father, your face. You looked so ill when I caught a vision of you a moment ago.”
Father settled deep-blue eyes on my own. “Just a shadow, Mae. You shouldn’t look for things that aren’t there.”
“Alana is worried you’re overtired. You aren’t sleeping or eating.”
“You girls, you need to stop harassing me.” His words were light, but a fast and testy undercurrent flowed through them. “I’m fine, it’s a worrying time. Things are changing, can you sense it, Mae?” He cast his astute gaze back onto my face. “Some new enemy approaches, Alen’s scouts have heard of devastation in the south of the isle.” His fingers drifted to his beard as they always did. I didn’t have a beard to stroke, thank the Gods, but I did have my pendant and with his words it began to hum against my chest. Fathers quick gaze flitted over me. Strangely, I was glad the pendant was hidden beneath my cotton dress, out of the way of his sharp assessment. “This army that approaches, it leaves devastation in its wake and ensnares the peoples of the south as slaves.”
I shuddered and again the pendant vibrated against my skin. “They won’t get here though. The clans will unite and rebel.”
Father stared at the sky as if he could still see the stars. “Maybe.” When he turned to me his face was etched with hardness. “Or maybe each clan will clamour over each other as they try to be the ones who survive.”
I swallowed hard. Would our people end at the hands of an invading army? My feet shifted in the earth and I had to restrain myself from running back and raising the warning. If we packed up now, we could leave, make into the wilds of the hills and the forests. We would be hidden there, unnoticeable. There was nothing at the settlement we couldn’t leave behind—apart from one another.
I lowered my head and breathed. It wasn’t my place to act without the say of my liege or my priest.
“What were you talking to Alen about, Father?” I changed the subject in the hope of averting Father’s disapproving and thoughtful gaze from my face. “You know you can trust me.” There was a weighted pause, and I bristled like a scolded child. “You can. I know you have your council and I know there is a hierarchy, but I am your daughter and one day I will be trained. One day it could be me who stands alongside our leader and makes the decision.” I had to stop myself from adding another maybe onto the end of my statement. I knew the day was far off, if not never arriving. But I had to brazen it out. Had to make it seem like I knew more than I did—that my training and hours spent with my tutors wasn’t for nothing.
Father stared long and hard at me, reading my eyes. I fought a nervous twitch and stood still and proud. “One day, Mae, you will surpass us all.”
“I don’t know about that,” I stuttered. Was he mad? Maybe his foresight was waning if he thought I was the one who would truly be gifted with our lore. I almost cracked a smile, ready to goad him into admitting he was joking. His face was stern and sombre, and I paused, a tremble aching in my tummy.
“If you focused and stopped worrying about what that oafish infantile second son is doing.”
I nearly snorted but kept it in check; instead I flushed a deep burning red. “We’ve been friends since before we could walk. Of course I worry about Tristram. What sort of baduri would I be if I didn’t?” Father would see through my flimsy excuse, but I chanced it anyway. His face flushed a florid red and his hand tightened on his staff. I watched the battle waging
