“By your own account, you weren’t there when this transpired,” Nechtoun censured. “Be silent.”
“How long do we have to hear this one spew his shi—?”
“Enough!” Sarinak rose from the bench, hammering his chieftain’s stave against the floor. “You will be silent, outlier, until you are given leave!”
And indeed the wyrhling subsided, mumbling several choice epithets—just soft enough for none to take notice, but there, nonetheless.
For the first in a long time, Inhya found pleasure in that one’s antics. Even more in Tokela’s satisfied half smile.
Sarinak would hear it all out—and it was right he should—but as for herself, Inhya had heard enough between the talk to stake Mordeleg out on a stinging-ant hill.
Mordeleg gave a supercilious sneer down his handsome nose at Našobok. “Why is that one even here? And for him to bind me hand and foot… he’s no right to so much as touch me! He’s nothing!”
“He’s more than you!” Tokela’s snarl came sudden. “You are less than nothing! Yuškammanukfila ikšo! Coward!”
Mordeleg lurched upwards. Galenu’s hand went to his shoulder, clenched. The old khatak’s sense had always been in question, Inhya mused, but a firm grip he still possessed. The lined knuckles whitened. Mordeleg’s face slackened in surprise and he sank back to the blanket.
“Tokela.” Sarinak’s reprimand was quieter. “Your own time for talk will come, and none shall interrupt you.”
Mordeleg started to open his mouth, Galenu’s hand tightened and he bent down, murmured something. Mordeleg scowled. Galenu did not move, but whatever he said next had more weight. Mordeleg’s scowl deepened, eyes narrowing at Tokela.
“I’ve more,” he muttered then, louder, “I’ve more. But I’ll wait.”
Sarinak peered at him, then at Galenu, who shrugged acknowledgement. Sarinak repeated the shrug and turned to the one who had been his brother.
“Wyrhling. Tell the elders your part in this.”
The wyrhling stepped forwards, clasped both hands and brought them to his breast. Respectful now, at least. Again, Inhya did have to give him this much—he’d always known how to work a crowd. “Tokela told me what transpired. I do have to apologise to one I wrongfully accused.” His eyes went to Anahli’s and held. “I am sorry, ehši.”
And of course, he had to emphasise what relationships he had been allowed to claim in Council, brash and bare. Inyha sniffed as Anahli’s expression warmed.
“As to that one, a’io, I came after he’d already been taken down. I did tie him up and dump him in Galenu’s den. My apologies, Nechtoun a’Naišwyrh, that it was also your place. But considering everything, the little owl pellet is lucky I didn’t leave him staked on River’s thighs for wolfKin.”
“Then let us hear from another who was there and saw everything. Anahli a’Šaâkfo?”
Inhya watched closely as Anahli rose from her place beside Palatan. Her chin was lifted, her eyes sharp, her dress and demeanor respectful. She exchanged a long glance with Tokela. He was the one who looked away. Inhya frowned.
“She wasn’t there!” Mordeleg protested. “I didn’t see her!”
“Of course you didn’t. No one sees my arrows coming.” Anahli smiled, honey over salt and sharp-toothed. “Or my rocks.”
Several chuckles expressed the elders’ appreciation. Nechtoun laughed out loud.
“She was banished from Dance, and you’ll take her word?”
“You were banished from Dance, and we have to listen to yours,” the wyrhling growled.
More laughter—quickly suppressed for, after all, the outlier had inspired it. Inhya couldn’t help the grin that blossomed behind a quick hand.
“Be silent, outlier,” Nechtoun snapped. “By all accounts, Anahli a’Šaákfo, you were there. Tell us what you were doing in such a place and why.”
“More,” another elder added, “tell us what you saw.”
Another odd and sticky glance between Anahli and Tokela. Inhya’s eyes narrowed; they were hiding something. Had it to do with that wretched place?
If only they could dismantle the thing, tear it down, burn it!
“I wandered in amidst Forest, considering my… errors.” Anahli’s gaze slid towards Inhya this time and lowered, an apology by any means. Sincere? Ai, but anyone’s guess, that. “I wasn’t paying attention, truly. Once I saw the outLand thing, I gave it a wide berth, and settled in a copse across from it.”
“Why did you stay there if you knew it was forbidden?”
Anahli considered the question. “I didn’t know it was forbidden, exactly. I was curious, I guess. As I said, I gave it a wide berth. Anyway, it seems to me what’s more important is what happened, not where it happened.”
Nechtoun started a protest; one of the elders leaned over and whispered something.
“I don’t know why the other two were there, but I saw them come into the clearing. First Tokela and then the midLander. There was a tussle. I ignored it at first. I mean, oških males will wrestle over anything, a’io?” Anahli’s smile charmed the elders, invited them to join in—and many did. Palatan, however, was looking at her as if she’d sprouted a full rack of antlers.
“I’d thought to leave them to it, but then it started to have a vicious sound. I watched as that one”—Anahli jerked her chin at Mordeleg—“pinned Tokela and started to force him to play. It was force, no question. Tokela was unwilling. I’d throw the stone again. Harder, this time.”
Mordeleg was fuming. Tokela, on the other hand, peered sideways at Anahli. His bodytalk seemed anxious. Another small glance passed between the two.
A’io. Something had happened with them.
Anahli tilted her head, slight, at Tokela; it seemed reassuring. “As to whether Mordeleg tells truth about Tokela wanting to be pinned down and poked against his will, I think that would be obvious. For me, I have nothing more to say.”
One of the elders turned to Tokela. “Is it as Anahli says?”
“It is, indeed, as she says.” Dark indigo eyes levelled against his accuser—Inhya had seen softer gazes aiming one of the hanging atlatls—then softened, turning to the elder. “I did not give Mordeleg leave to so much as touch me. Perhaps he thought it a game.” The allowance was wooden.
