“An alliance with them only makes sense,” Gawain said after taking a long sip. “They’re a formidable force in their own right. They have weapons we can only dream of. If we don’t snap them up, it’s only a matter of time before someone or something else does.”
Fallon didn’t know how much he believed of that speech. Gawain and Lion had been vocal in their opposition until now. What had changed?
Ben chose that moment to reinsert himself into the conversation.
“Are you sure it’s wise to make her the battle queen so soon?” Ben said, his voice rigorously polite, not challenging in the least.
Gawain gave him an impatient look. “Of course, you would say that.”
Ben’s voice was defensive. “I simply mean, their relationship isn’t that old. She hasn’t even given him children yet.”
Fallon’s expression became icy. “Shea brings more to the table than her ability to breed.”
Gawain seemed equally disturbed by Ben’s statement. “You and your clan are a bunch of hypocrites. Had Shea been Trateri, you would have never brought that up.”
Gawain was right. While continuing the next generation was an important role for all Trateri, not just women, there were many women who chose the path of a warrior over that of a mother. No one was allowed to challenge such a choice. In the same vein, men could choose to stay close to home, to become an artisan or den father instead of leaving for raiding and war.
That Ben had thrown that in Fallon’s face left him feeling slightly protective. He felt an inner spurt of amusement. Had Shea been here to hear that argument, she would have taken the clan leader apart. Decimated him so thoroughly he would probably never seek to oppose her again.
Perhaps Fallon should wake her, if only to be entertained by the spectacle.
“Shea has earned this right,” Fallon said instead, his voice moderated and cool. “She has shown she has a steady head on her shoulders even in the worst of situations. She’s never faltered in any of the tasks I’ve set before her.”
Gawain wasn’t content to let that be the end. He leaned forward, stabbing the table with a finger to get his point across. “More importantly, she’s fought side by side with our warriors. She, at least, is always on the front lines, putting her life in danger to save people she doesn’t even like. You should be so lucky to have such a one as your battle queen.”
Fallon felt his interest sharpen at those words. He wondered if Gawain’s sudden loyalty had anything to do with the trust Shea had shown in having him help her with the aerial assault.
Still, Fallon sensed there might be more to the story. It was a question for another day.
He’d grown tired with this conversation. He wanted this wrapped up so he could go back to bed. His gaze went to the wrapped bundle at Ben’s side. “Is that the sword I commissioned?”
Ben looked down, almost seeming surprised at its presence. He touched it, his face momentarily uncertain. “It is.”
“Let’s see it then.” Fallon cocked his head, curious.
The man Fallon commissioned the weapon from was known for his unparalleled work. It was slightly odd that Ben had brought it in the middle of the night without the artisan in question. Fallon could only assume the clan leader was eager to impress, to curry Fallon’s favor for himself and his people.
Ben bent to unwrap the blade, his movements careful and measured lest he accidentally cut himself. The weapon revealed was a thing of beauty. Slightly curved, its blade was a blue-gray that only the finest Trateri steel ever achieved. Even before he picked it up, Fallon could see the intricate tempering on the blade that was evidence it had a wicked edge that would hold up well to the stress Shea would no doubt subject it to.
Ben picked it up, one hand on the pommel and the other under the blade itself. Fallon held out his hands to receive it.
In a movement faster than the Earth clan leader had ever displayed, he pointed the sword at Fallon and thrust.
A sharp, white-hot pain pierced Fallon low in the abdomen.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but I cannot let you and that woman lead us into ruin,” Ben said in a low voice.
He grasped the handle with both hands, his intent to twist the sword in Fallon, making the damage worse.
Gawain roared, jumping to his feet and knocking over his goblet.
Fallon grabbed the blade with both hands, ignoring the way it sliced his skin or the bright red blood spilling down the steel.
Ben strained but couldn’t budge the sword. Fallon bared his teeth at the other man, murder in his gaze. He took a step closer, gritting his teeth against the feel of steel sliding deeper into him.
He grabbed Ben by the shirt, wrenching the blade out of his hand. “You will pay for this.”
Gawain shouted for Fallon’s guards, even as he grabbed Ben and threw him on the ground.
