Caden took a position slightly to the side of the two clan leaders, making sure they could see him as he took a dagger out of his belt and used it to clean his fingernails. All the while his eyes were locked on the two, his powerful body tensed and poised for action.
Shea ignored the show in favor of giving Ben and Gawain her full attention. The Anateri usually defaulted to an emotionless mask when they didn’t want anyone to know what they were thinking. Shea’s mask had always been boredom. She donned it now.
She was silent for a long time, watching them with a predator’s lazy interest.
One of these men was responsible for Fallon’s current state. The question was which one had done the deed? Ben? Gawain? Both?
“Which of you tried to murder my warlord?” Shea asked, her voice silky.
Caden looked up. “They each said the other did it.”
“What did your men see?” Shea asked.
“They entered the tent as soon as they heard Fallon’s cry. They arrived to see Gawain and Ben struggling, Fallon on the floor. There was no clear indication as to who was responsible,” Caden said in a grim voice.
Ah, so that was the reason they’d both been scraped up. Unable to determine who deserved their rage, the Anateri had nonetheless been unable to abstain entirely from hurting the men. Shea saw a bruise under Gawain’s eye. Ben’s lip was split.
Ben was the first to speak, his face flushed with anger, his eyes glinting with righteousness. He ignored Shea, speaking to the men at her back. “This insult is not to be born. I’ve already given you the culprit.”
Shea’s lips quirked in a cruel smile. Looked like they had a taker.
“Ah, but he says you did it,” she explained.
“An obvious lie,” Ben said through gritted teeth.
Shea lifted an eyebrow in that same lazy manner, inviting him to expound.
“He has a long history of enmity with the Hawkvale. His clan refused to join under his banner until there was no choice left,” Ben said, his voice loud.
“There is always a choice,” Gawain said in a lazy voice, his arms folded over his chest. Of the two, he was the calmer, his balance evenly distributed. He looked tired, grief around his eyes, but otherwise unworried. “I chose the route most advantageous for my clan.”
Ben turned to the rest, his gaze wild. “He’s always hated the Hawkvale. We’ve all seen it.”
Shea studied the two. Ben made a good point. Even Shea had noticed the way Gawain sometimes antagonized Fallon, almost daring him to do something. Still, that was a long way from cutting the Hawkvale down in cold blood.
On the other hand, Ben wasn’t a warrior though he had created an untold number of weapons for the Trateri’s use.
Most importantly, Gawain was the one to confirm Shea’s status as battle queen. She found it hard to believe he’d do that immediately after striking Fallon down. It would have been to his benefit to keep his silence, which could very well have prevented Shea from taking control.
Trenton stepped into the tent, crossing to Shea’s side. “He’s awake.”
Caden’s head whipped toward the two of them, wild hope on his face. Braden jerked at her side, relief in his expression.
Shea didn’t move, giving the two captives in front of her a victorious smile. “I don’t need your convincing after all. Fallon will tell us which of you faces a coward’s judgment.”
Gawain looked relieved. It confirmed her suspicions. She hadn’t been sure until now, but that look helped seal it.
Ben broke, whirling and darting out of the tent.
Shea’s smile turned cruel as she glanced at Trenton. “Do not kill him.”
He nodded, then he was gone.
Caden followed at his heels.
Gawain gave her a considering look. “You planned that.”
Shea didn’t answer, just stared back at him.
