“I still think we should reconsider?—”
The door to our room flew open with a bang and guards spilled in, barking something in the common tongue. Umaira moved in front of me protectively, but they swarmed us, and she was yanked away, forcing me to fight on my own. I was not unskilled, but I was unarmed. I’d not thought to bring my swords along. They were still attached to my horse’s saddle.
I was an idiot.
I managed a few hits before I was taken down by a burly guard, my arms forced behind my back. I struggled against them, but I had no hope of escaping once a long blade was pressed against my throat.
Umaira shouted something I didn’t quite catch, and I wanted to look at her to better understand what was happening, but I stayed frozen where I was forced to kneel. When Hameed returned with the advisor, I thought he’d jump in to save me, but he just sneered.
“Now, Prince Zakai. Let’s try this again,” the advisor purred. “You will accept my deal or lose your head.”
Incredulous, I gaped at him. “You cannot?—”
“I think you’ll find I can,” he interrupted with a sinister smirk. “I’ve worked a long time in this town. I know how to get what I want. Now, sign the document or forfeit your life.”
My gaze swung to Hameed. “What are you doing? Kill him!”
He snorted, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “Why? To save you? The petulant prince who cannot be bothered to actright? Your life isn’t worth mine. Besides, he offered me a good cut of the tax money if I got you to agree. I will live grandly here and no longer be forced to cater to a pissant like you.”
This was all starting to feel like a trap. I should have questioned it more when Abdul was too busy to attend and Daamir was forced to stay behind due to illness. Umaira had planned on speaking with my father about more guards going along, but Hameed had gotten into my head that they babied me and I’d… fallen immediately for his manipulation.
“You planned this,” I accused with a scowl as I reluctantly signed the document. I would tell my father to tear it up when I returned home and was safe.
He grinned, unrepentant. “I knew when we left the last time that you’d screw up this deal. The king will be glad that we were able to put his demands into place before his youngest son was lost to us.”
My heart stuttered. “I thought if I signed it, you’d leave me alive.”
“Alive, yes. I never said I’d let you go home,” the advisor sneered. “No, I have something better in mind.”
Two
UTTIN
Ipaced the village center, eyeing the road my clan brothers would return on. Any time now.
It was usually me who went to pick up the tributes. I’d always led the company to the towns closest to us within a few days’ ride. We met with others like me somewhere in the middle to discuss which tributes would go where based on the needs of the clans. At least until the year prior, when clans began sending their tributes to us first to learn the language from Finn. We still met in the middle, but it was mostly so we could travel together to our clan to better protect the tributes.
This year, I was forced to remain behind. Orthorr would be stepping down soon. There was always a tournament to see who was best suited to replace the clan leader, and he wanted me here to participate. He’d been grooming me to take over for a while now. I wasn’t always sure how I felt about that. I wasn’t Orthorr. I clashed with my clanmates often and had to go to him to end the disputes. I didn’t feel like I was the best for the role. It was my desire to serve my clan that kept my mouth quiet.
I eyed the road anxiously again. They were late. They should have been here yesterday. What if there was a problem? Those we sent along were strong, but I was more experienced and?—
“Uttin. Calm yourself,” Orthorr demanded. “They will be here soon.”
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I nodded, only to end up pacing again. Was it possible the other clans would blame us if the tributes were injured or taken? Back when the tributes were dispersed by us, the blame could only be on the men moving them. Now that the tributes were put in our care, the blame could be on us for not protecting them well enough. It could start a war and?—
A figure appeared at the top of the hill, and after he raised a hand in greeting, I let out a breath. I recognized the man as one of our scouts. He would be only a short ride ahead of the rest, ensuring the way was clear for them. Which meant the rest would be with us momentarily.
Spinning around, I headed for the cooking tent, ducking in long enough to inform Patrick and Yamileth of their arrival. They had to cook extra for all the new tributes and required warning so they could get started. After that, I called the guards to attention. They would remain close to discourage any tributes from attempting to run. It was too dangerous in the forest alone. We kept them here for their protection. I sent a few others to call for volunteer protectors to care for the tributes.
In that time, the group crested the hill, and the dust kicked up behind them signaled their imminent arrival. I was running through what needed to be done when Orthorr put a hand on my shoulder.
“We will need a few to assist in setting up the visitors’ tents. Have you delegated this task?”
I grimaced. I’d forgotten about that. After the conflict with the Ilvos clan last year, some clans refused to leave their tributeshere without their own protectors from their clans. We agreed in order to ease the tensions and promised to care for them while the tributes were being trained in our language and culture by Finn. Those clan members would bring their own tents for the journey, but setting them up while caring for a tribute would be difficult. It would be faster if they had help.
My eyes cast over those already gathered in the town center, settling on Tavik who stood near the cooking tent. I assumed Saneth wasn’t far, as the two had been attached at the hip even before their bonding. Those two were strong and fast in tent setup. They would be useful in this task.
Tavik straightened when I headed in his direction, his expression apprehensive. Probably because those two knew better than to bother Yamileth and Patrick while they were prepping for the tributes’ arrival. That wouldn’t be a punishment I would dole out, however. Yamileth was capable of doing it herself.
