YUMA
The Herd Meet was held in a large chamber deep within the Feast Hall. Precious fragrant wood had been carved into a large table, which was surrounded by chairs made of excellent-quality leather. The walls were hung with plaques bearing the names of the Chief Herders throughout time. The names went back for hundreds of years, though not to the very beginning of Danras—before there was a Grim King, before there was even an alphabet, Merseh had oroxen, herders, and a Chief Herder.
Twice a year—when the herding was over and when it began—the community leaders of Danras gathered in this room for the Herd Meet, to discuss matters of the oroxen. Yuma had attended many of these meetings, but this was the first time she was presenting a matter that had nothing to do with herding.
The people of Danras had been fascinated by the emissary who had entered their city on horseback with a giant machine horse trailing behind him. Yuma, during the three days they had spentso far in Danras, had not let Lysandros go outside, to avoid any incident. The rumor of the Grim King wanting this man had spread all over Danras even before they’d returned.
And now the time for the Meet approached. The two of them arrived early, and so they were the only ones in the room. After taking a close look at everything in the room, Lysandros sat down—since this was the first time he would be presented to the leaders of Danras, they had given him a seat of honor at the end of the table, and Yuma sat down next to him, against usual protocol. Lysandros turned to Yuma and said, “Wouldn’t it be better if I spoke?”
Yuma denied him outright. “No. You can’t speak formal Mersehi, and the people we’re about to meet are very particular about rules and manners.”
“But Chief Herder is still supreme?” Lysandros smiled.
Yuma smiled back. “My word has weight, but they are all important people. They need to be persuaded. Danras has never made a decision like this. To go against the Grim King…”
The dread she had been trying to keep down began to rise in her again. Defying the Grim King was unthinkable for anyone in this country. Yuma herself had taken a long time to come to this decision, and now she had to convince the other leaders of Danras in the course of one gathering.
“Don’t worry. Once we have the support of Danras, and then the whole of Merseh, the Empire will be indomitable.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. She gripped back and nodded.
For the first time since they had entered, the doors to the Herd Meet opened. The two let go of each other’s hands and stood. Each person took off their hat as they entered, pressed it to their chest,and bowed to Yuma, who reciprocated each time with a bow of her own. Just as he was taught, Lysandros bowed with her.
Usually about twenty leaders were invited to this meeting, half of whom showed up in person and the other half by proxy. But this time, there were more people than invited. Because of the rumors, most likely—that the Chief Herder had brought the Imperial prisoner who was to be sent to the Grim King. That she had become very intimate with this prisoner. There wasn’t anyone in Danras who hadn’t heard the rumors, and so she knew they had all come to see for themselves. But this was another reason Yuma had kept Lysandros hidden, letting everyone’s curiosity build—she wanted as many people as possible to come today and hear what she had to say.
“Who is the man across from us?” Lysandros whispered.
“Old Man Bruden. He owns the most horses in all of Danras. Your Kentley is one of his.”
“I see.” He cleared his throat. “And the woman to the left? Those white clothes…”
“Granny Jesska. A leather trader. Her family are some of the only people who ever leave the country. She’s wearing white because…” She couldn’t find the words. Jesska was Rizona’s grandmother, and the robes meant she was in mourning. When Yuma told her of her granddaughter’s death three days ago, Jesska had not shed a single tear. She had simply said she needed to tell the family and that the Chief Herder could leave. Yuma knew the slight trembling in Jesska’s voice hadn’t been from sadness but from rage. But whether it was toward Yuma or the Grim King, Yuma couldn’t tell. She could only say that she was sorry she could not protect Rizona and then leave as she was told.
“The woman who just walked in?”
“Katerin. The older sister of the Host.” She exchanged nods with her. They were old friends who had learned to ride and shoot together. Until Dalan had become the Host, Katerin had raised her little brother in lieu of their parents, who had been dragged off to the Grim King’s war and killed.
Lysandros asked about a few more of the guests, and they were precisely those whose favor would guarantee him safety. Yuma answered each inquiry in a low voice, silently marveling at how he managed to pick out the most important people—were all emissaries of the Empire as keen as he was?
There were so many uninvited guests that the later arrivals had to stand along the wall behind the chairs. A murmur filled the room, and words like “Grim King,” “Empire,” and “war” reached Yuma’s ears. In Danras, staring too intently at someone was considered poor manners, but many couldn’t help giving the outsider a furtive glance or two too many. Lysandros seemed unfazed, meeting each stare with his own.
Yuma stood. The usual signal was to ask for the doors of the gathering room to be closed, but there were so many people in the room—or trying to get into the room—that the door was blocked. So instead, Yuma cleared her throat. The murmurs died down, and attention gathered on her.
“Welcome. I see many have come today. Unprecedented as it may be, it is precisely because of the importance of what we are about to—”
“Chief Herder, because it is so unprecedented, let us get to the heart of it,” said Bruden in his hoarse voice. His stony expression was clearly evident even from all the way at the other end of the table from Yuma. “The oroxen are fat and their hides shine in thesun. And not one head was tithed to the Grim King, so nothing more needs to be said about the herding. Let us move on to this guest who sits there beside you.”
The murmurs started again. Yuma looked around at the almost one hundred people who were in the room. She could sense their hopes, worries, fears—feelings were running high. It felt like Yuma’s own feelings had been shattered into a hundred pieces and handed out among them.
She gave Bruden a nod. “All right, Old Man Bruden. This man,” she said as she laid a hand on his shoulder, “is from the Empire in the west, an emissary named Lysandros. The Grim King tasked us to bring Lysandros to him, but I decided against that and have brought him here instead.” Yuma left out the details of her consultation with the Host. If what she suspected would happen did actually happen, she wanted all complaints and objections directed to her and her alone.
The proportion of fear increased in the room. Ignoring this shift, Yuma continued.
“The Empire asks for Merseh’s help in their war against Cassia to the east. They wish to build a camp near Danras and to break the Grim King’s barricades blocking the Dead Man’s Pass, building a permanent road through the southern edge of Rook Mountains. I want to allow them.”
Murmurs again. Bruden, his arms crossed, was nodding. Jesska sat expressionless as she gazed in their direction. Hoping to find encouragement, Yuma glanced at Katerin, but she found only worry and fear on her friend’s face.
Someone asked, “What do we get in return?”
Yuma answered without hesitation.
