“I hear there’s an all-clan tournament,” she ventured.
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know why they’re excited for one?”
She shook her head ruefully, “Not a clue. Clark couldn’t wait to tell me, but I have no idea what the hubbub was about.”
Fallon chuckled and Shea felt the weight on her shoulders lighten. “An all-clan is rare. It’s a holdover from when we were divided. When one was called, any clan in attendance declared a truce with the rest of the clans.”
Made sense. No one would want to show up for a tournament if they would face an ambush at the end of it. Of course, with the Trateri, that might have been part of the fun.
“It was a chance to gather and pit their skills against one another without bloodshed.” He thought a moment and then revised that statement. “Without much bloodshed. Now, it’s a way for young warriors to showcase their skills in the hopes of raising their status or securing a position in my elite units. The clans also stake their pride on the outcome.”
“Eamon’s asked Clark and Charles if they would design an event.”
Fallon looked surprised. “That’s a pretty big complement. The organizers are very particular about who they allow to arrange the individual events since all are open to anyone who wishes to compete.”
Shea shrugged. “Clark seemed to be very excited about it.”
“He should be. They don’t let just anyone help. Will you be involved?”
“He seemed to think I would be. Not too sure though.”
His gaze sharpened on her. “Why?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve never been to one of these. I wouldn’t know the first place to start, and shouldn’t the credit go to a Trateri?”
He scowled. “You are Trateri.”
She looked away and shrugged again.
He took a deep breath. “Do your people ever have tournaments like this?”
Shea thought about it. “I don’t think so. They’re mostly focused on training. Once an apprentice passes the last test, they’re assigned to a village or their next posting. It can be years before they circle back to the keep again.” She tilted her head. “Some of the towns have festivals where there are occasional competitions, like who can toss a rock the farthest.”
Shea had never been very interested in attending those, not understanding the interest in comparing whose throw had the longest reach.
“There are events like that, but most test a skill. My favorites have always been hand-to-hand combat or tests of horsemanship.”
Shea would have liked to see him compete in one of those. “And how many of these have you won?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “Every single one.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Every one? Even your first?”
“I’m a legend. Haven’t you heard?”
She snorted. “You’re something all right.”
He had a crafty expression on his face when he asked, “Shall I prove it?”
She tapped her glass with one finger as she considered him.
He leaned forward, setting his wine aside. “Let’s make things even more interesting with a bet. I win, and you owe me a boon.”
“Fine, but turnabout is fair play. If you lose, you owe me one.”
“Deal.” He held his glass out for her to toast.
“Alright, deal.”
