What we get, instead, is Iloni.
She drops out of a tree right as the sun begins to sink below the horizon. There’d been signs of scouts for several miles now as we approached, the plan to swerve around town and head to my cabin first.
“You’re late,” she says, her expression aggravated as we pull the horses up. “Ma sent scouts after you.”
“I know.” Two curt words, the cut in them digging deep.
Iloni grimaces. “What happened?”
“She tried to assassinate my wife.”
She eyes me. “Didn’t try hard.”
“That’s what I keep telling him,” I interject. “We need to handle this carefully or the entire female’s circle?—”
“You’re not handling anything,” Rath cuts me off. “I’ll deal with?—”
“Shit,” Iloni says. “You’ll deal with shit. Female’s circle business.”
He bares his teeth and hisses at her. “Don’t pull female’s circle horseshit on me. I have a right to defend my wife.”
“You also have a right to piss off the entire male’s circle when their wives, mothers, daughters, sisters and even the cows punish them foryouractions.”
“She has a point,” Hatthar drawls. “Let the girls hash it out.”
“You really were planning on taking the clan,” I say quietly to Rath.
His arm tightens around me, his voice grim. “I don’t want to, but they force my hand.”
The bright roar of the bonfire, the shouts of laughter and good-natured cursing, the brawls that break out and the young running around allhit me. Even though I always existed on the periphery, these sights and scents are familiar.
They’re home.
I recognize the faces and the voices, some slightly changed, most not at all. I glance at Maezii but I’m not worried about her with Ya?onar at her side, his arm draped loosely across her shoulders. His posture is subtly possessive, but unchallenging. No one will insult her in his presence. Most people know how far they can push an Icarian warrior before he responds.
Fiuthen draws close and slaps Rathhur on the shoulder. “You made it back! In one piece. I bet Kyona would murder you before you managed to bring her home.”
“A bet with who?” I ask.
“Me,” Iloni says. “I bet that you'd grown some ovaries in the last twenty years. I suppose I bet wrong.” She looks me up and down. “So. . .you let him contract you? A bit lowering, but whatever works.”
“Incoming,” Lathhan says. “Be ready.”
Idunna is a handsome Orcess, taller than Iloni, her eyes sharper. She’s cut her hair to her shoulders, rare for a Uthilsen.
She stops in front of me, her lips twisted in contempt, her dark eyes cold. “You're not welcome here, vermin.”
Next to me, Rath is as relaxed and calm as an Icarian. Neither of us speak. He promised he would take the clan, but he won't aggress on his own mother.
Idunna sneers after it's obvious I'm not goingto respond. “Still hiding behind my son like a coward.”
“I'm standing at his side, Matriarch,” I say, keeping my voice low and neutral. “Not behind.”
“My wife is welcome,” Rathhur says.
I widen my eyes to keep from closing them. So that's the tactic he's going to take.
There's no surprise in Idunna’s stare though, and it's a long, cold stare as she regards her son. “Wife. The circle gave you no permission to wed.”
