Shea felt an irrational sense of annoyance. He was so certain that she would come to the conclusion he wanted. The worst part was that he was right. If she was truly worried about Eamon, Buck and the others, the best thing she could do would be to head to camp. She knew Eamon. If he’d managed to come out, he would have ordered his people home so they could warn others and put together a large search party if Fallon and Shea failed to make it back.
“Fine,” she gritted out.
Fallon’s lips moved just the slightest bit, enough to let Shea know he was fighting a smile at her expense. She reached over, pinching his side in retaliation. His hand covered hers and pressed it into his side, the thumb caressing the inside of her wrist. Tingles shot down her arm.
“Ride with me?”
She stepped closer and laid her head on his bicep. “I still want to walk back.”
“Of course you do, but I haven’t seen you in several months.”
She lifted her head and glared at him.
“You don’t fight fair.”
Amusement was alive in his eyes as he released her hand.
“Of course not. I am a warlord after all.”
Shea’s sigh was heavy and loud. “You’re not going to win every battle.”
He swung onto the horse before reaching down to help Shea swing up in front of him. He whispered into her ear in a husky voice, “Is that a challenge?”
She fought against a smile, losing the battle as he kicked the horse to set it into motion. Those with horses followed him as he took the lead. The rest would make their way at a slower pace until mounts could be sent back to them.
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY RODE into camp with little fanfare, moving at a fast pace past the outer perimeter and onto the lanes formed by the military lines the Trateri had arranged the tents by. The path was a little more jagged given the obstacles of the soul trees, but they were as straight as possible. Fallon didn’t stop until he was in front of his tent, a structure easily twice the size of anything near it.
It had its own personal bathing area, a luxury only available in the highest ranks. The rest of the army used one of the communal bathing tents that were set up at each camp.
Two Anateri guarded the entrance, snapping sharp salutes when Fallon reined to a halt in front of them. Fallon dismounted, helping Shea down, as the rest of his men rode into the open space in front of his tent. One of the Anateri took his reins and led the horse away.
Shea followed Fallon toward his tent.
“Send for Darius and Henry,” he ordered the other Anateri.
The general and a few of his men dismounted, handing their reins off to others in their party before heading for Fallon’s tent. Shea had really hoped the general would elect to stay behind with those walking, but she wasn’t that lucky.
“Braden, send several of your men to obtain mounts for the ones we left behind.”
Braden gestured and one of his men nodded and left the tent.
Darius came in at a run. His eyes immediately went to Fallon, relief the emotion most present in them. He had the look of a man with the weight of an entire world on him, totally at odds with the easy-going nature he normally presented. He was a tall man with high cheekbones and a broad nose. His light blue eyes were startling against skin several shades darker than most Lowlanders. He was a close friend to Fallon, and one of his most trusted, having grown up beside him. Fallon often left Darius in charge when he had duties elsewhere.
He was also the man responsible for capturing her all those months ago at the village of Goodwin of Ria. Darius had arrived to collect the tithe the villagers owed—wheat and several of their strongest men. Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, the villagers had made a deal with the elders from the village Shea served, convincing them to betray their own people and send a select few from Birdon Leaf who could stand as tithe in the villagers’ place. Darius, having recognized her from when she’d saved Fallon, had known how important she would end up being to his warlord.
Fallon and Darius clasped hands, pulling each other into a back-thumping hug.
“We were getting worried,” Darius said, after he’d stepped back. “You’ve been missing for weeks.”
Shea stepped forward. “Have Eamon and his men made it back?”
Darius looked at Shea and nodded. “Yes, they arrived about a week after you left, telling strange stories about a mist capable of whisking people off. We thought they’d gone crazy at first until we lost three patrols under similar circumstances.”
Shea let out a deep breath. That was one weight off her back.
“They’re not stories,” Braden said, his eyes serious as he poured himself a cup of ale from the carafe on the table.
