“Rowena is right.”
Her hands wrapped around the warm mug which she’d almost drained.
“A chief’s roleisto protect his people and get them through the winter, but Callor offers us naught.”
“He only takes,” Maardok growled. “But our father was his man, and ye?—”
“I swore him allegiance when I became yer chief.”
I dragged my hand across my head.
“If I were to break that?—”
“‘Twould no’ be a violent break,” my brother pointed out from his place by the mantel. “We would send him the ore and tell him we’re done following his orders.”
I snorted. “And he would just let us go? He would need to make an example of us, lest other septs followed us.”
“Let them,” Maardok sneered dismissively. “It’ll give Callor something else to think about.”
He had a point.
Matthias stood behind his Mate, rubbing Issa’s neck, and now he cleared his throat. When I looked to him, he shrugged.
“As an outsider?—”
“Nay,” I interrupted. “Battleborn of Islay accepts all refugees, Matthias, and ye’re a valued member of this clan.”
The human smiled softly.
“Thank ye,D’malk. I just meant, as someone no’ raised in yer culture, I can tell ye that Rowena seems correct to me. In my life, I’ve seen plenty of leaders who were shite at it—taking, sucking communities dry, and offering naught in return. Callor isnae as bad as some of the humans I remember from my childhood, but he is no’ the leader ye are.”
I stared, surprised at the compliment, struggling to comprehend it.
My sister reached up to clasp her Mate’s hand.
“Matthias is right, Vrogul. Ye are a wonderful leader. Just the fact that ye’re sitting here debating this, thinking of our clan’s future, instead of taking the easier way out… Well, we ken that means ye have our best interest at heart.”
Maardok fingered his scar thoughtfully.
“We can take them, brother.”
I swung my gaze to him.
“Who?”
“My warriors are well-trained—better than Callor’s. We are battle-hardened. We could win, if it came to that.”
Could we? I studied my brother’s certainty, wishing for some of it.
“But many will die.”
“Aye.” He nodded solemnly. “And I am willing to do so, if ‘twould be to ensure my clan’s future.”
“Nay,” Issa whispered in horror, her free hand going to her bulging stomach.
I remembered Rowena’s father’s fate and told myself that Islay Battleborn warriors were more than a match for the mainlanders. Our blood made us fierce, our land made us hardy, and our desperation would make us unstoppable.
But the thought of losing Maardok…of dying myself before I claimed Rowena…
