Harlak glared at him.
He waited. Leadership, he’d learned long ago, rarely meant giving people what they wanted. More often it meant giving them something they could accept without losing face.
“Harlak’s clan retains the ancestral claim,” he said when Harlak looked down. “Grath’s clan has established use. This winter, you will share the valley.”
Both males immediately began protesting. He raised his hand, and they stopped.
“Next spring, Harlak’s clan will have first choice of the eastern grazing grounds. Grath’s clan will have first choice of the western grounds. If either clan chooses not to use the grounds, the other clan may do so. The valley remains shared for three years. At the end of that time, if either of you still feels strongly enough about it to waste another day of my life arguing, I will come back.”
Neither male looked happy. Good. A successful compromise usually meant everyone left mildly dissatisfied.
Grath grunted his acceptance. Harlak took longer, but finally gave one sharp nod. The matter was settled.
He remained long enough to eat the meal Harlak’s mate insisted on serving him, inspect a damaged crystal shaft, and discuss the coming winter migration of the sarlag herds with several warriors. He agreed to send additional hunters if the animals shifted farther south than expected, listened to three other minor complaints, and dealt with each of them in turn.
He did everything a clan leader was supposed to do. And throughout all of it, some part of his mind remained in the ancestral caves with Polly.
At first he assumed it was worry. For most of the past year, whenever Polly had been out of his sight, some part of him had remained alert for disaster. The world had already demonstrated what it could do to her, and every protective instinct he possessed wanted to stand between her and the possibility of further harm.
By midday, however, he had to admit that worry had very little to do with it. He knew exactly where she was. She was with Tess, surrounded by Cera and half the clan, in one of the safest places on Hothrest. More importantly, he trusted her to take care of herself. That was still new enough that he examined the realization carefully.
She no longer wanted him standing between her and the world. She wanted him beside her when she needed him and to step back when she didn’t. He was learning to do that. But learning not to hover did nothing to make him miss her any less.
That realization irritated him with its simplicity.
He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to see the way her grey eyes brightened when she was pleased with herself. He wanted to hear whatever she and Tess had discovered in those endless shipping records, even though he suspected the explanation would involve far more detail than he required.
He simply wanted to be near her.
By the time he started down the mountain, the light had begun to fade and his desire to return home had become increasingly difficult to ignore. He set a hard pace, covering the familiar trail faster than necessary while telling himself he was a grown male and a clan leader, not some lovesick youth racing home to his female.
The argument failed to slow him down.
Darkness had swallowed the mountains by the time the familiar entrance to the ancestral caves came into view. The crystals along the passages glowed softly as he made his way deeper into the caves. He answered greetings without stopping, increasingly aware of how tired, cold, and hungry he was. He was also absurdly eager to get home.
Their quarters were warm when he entered. And Polly was waiting.
She sat cross-legged near the cooking fire, a datapad beside her and several sheets of paper scattered across the low table. She had clearly been working. Her dark hair was coming loose from its braid, and there was a faint smudge along one cheek.
When he stepped through the entrance, her whole face changed.
“You’re back.”
The simple pleasure in her voice struck him harder than it should have.
“I said I would be.”
“I know,” she said, climbing to her feet. “How was the grazing dispute?”
“Long.”
“Did anyone threaten to kill anyone?”
“Only indirectly.”
“Then it went well.”
She laughed and crossed the room towards him. He expected her to stop in front of him. Instead she walked straight into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist as far as they would reach.
