Blood Rebellion

* * *

Dragon wasn’t lying (as Saa Thalarr, he couldn’t). There were cooking tents, all right, and Falchani warriors were lined up to get breakfast in front of a long, makeshift serving table. It was late summer there—I learned that much by Looking. After staring down at myself, I found I was now dressed in black leathers, just like everybody else. Dragon was making sure I fit in as well as I could. I think every Falchani who had joined the Saa Thalarr was there with me—Dragon, Crane, Drake, Drew, Dragon Taylor, Crane Trevor, Pheran Tiger, Caylon Black, Veykan, Turtle and Rik. Devin had come along, too, I saw. I knew where she’d be sleeping.

"Did you get a chance to say no?" Devin sidled up to me, watching both Dragon and Crane. Stoicism aside, they were happy to be treading the soil of Falchan again.

"That answer would be no," I muttered. We both spoke the Falchani language; no need to arouse anyone’s suspicions. At least my leathers were sleeveless, just like the others, and laced up the front. Devin’s did, too—the guys just left theirs open—no doubt to show off multiple tattoos and sculpted abs.

"Is this your company?" Someone walked up to Dragon as we stood in line for breakfast.

"Yes, Lord Marshall," Dragon inclined his head slightly to the warrior. He had a long braid down his back, just as Dragon did and wore his vest open like the other males. His chest tattoo was a snarling wolf and smaller wolves wound around his arms, chasing one another.

"Stop by the Warlord’s tent after breakfast and we’ll record the names," the Lord Marshall commanded.

"Yes, Lord Marshall," Dragon dipped his head a second time as the Lord Marshall strode away.

"That’s Lord Marshall Wolf," Drake turned and grinned at me.

"Nooo," I said. "Really?" Drake and Drew were ahead of me in line, which was fine. Devin was standing with me, letting hers go ahead of her, too. I guess rank had its privileges. Former Warlords and Generals got to go first. I could understand that.

"So, who’s Warlord now?" I asked, as we inched our way toward the serving line.

"The Eagle Warlord," Drew said. "The Bear General is his second-in-command."

"Why are we here?" I asked. I was stumped, I admit, and I hadn’t gone Looking for any info, yet.

"You see the mountain range north of here?" Drake asked. I looked, bending down a little to do so; the sides of the tent had been rolled up so we only had a roof over our heads for shade.

"Yeah."

"On the other side of that mountain range are the lands of the Reldani barbarians. They’ve organized recently, instead of raiding in bands as they normally do. They have a huge army waiting on the far side of the closest mountain, due north of here," Drake continued. "We’re here to help convince them that attacking the Falchan side of the continent is a bad idea."

"Oooh," I nodded.

"They’ll take any excuse to go whack people with swords," Devin laughed. "Just so you know, we have tents of our own and your blades are there, with everybody else’s."

"I don’t recall having blades," I said.

"You do, now. Dragon got Shadow to ask Glendes to make them for you. Shadow put protection jewels in the hilts. They’re ready to go."

"I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here," I grumped.

"Come on, baby, it’ll be fun," Drew was grinning again. "We’ll move out tomorrow. Don’t you want to be with us?" He was doing his best impression of a pout.

"Hey, don’t mess up that handsome face with a pout," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "And I do want to be with you. You couldn’t book us a nice hotel, somewhere?"

"You didn’t leave the females at home?" A warrior elbowed his way past us, giving Devin and me a black look as he did so.

"Somebody needs an ass-whoopin’," I grumbled as soon as he was out of hearing. Devin snorted a laugh.

* * *

We went to register at the Warlord’s tent later; there was a long line standing in front of us doing the same thing. "This is for the small companies and individuals coming from the hills and outlying villages," Drake whispered to me as we patiently waited our turn. The afternoon sun was hot as it bore down on us and my black leathers didn’t help much with that. I wanted to fan myself, but it wasn’t in the Stoic Falchani Warrior Manual to appear weak or uncomfortable. Therefore, I sweated and suffered in silence. The grass was dead and the ground was dry and dusty beneath our feet. It made me wonder when the last rain had come.

"Thirteen of you?" The captain at the table had already counted us as Dragon gave him our information. He said we were of the Wildcat tribe, whatever that meant.

Veykan’s lending us his tribal affiliation; Dragon Taylor gave me mental details. If Dad used his, it might raise suspicions. Well, I could see how that might be a problem. Former Warlords who’d been dead to these people for thousands of years didn’t just pop in on a normal day.

"Are the females sufficiently trained?" The captain asked Dragon, squinting critically at Devin and me.

"I’ll match either against anybody here," Dragon replied, signing his name on the register. "They deserve the black they wear."

That sounded like a challenge to me, but then I wasn’t Falchani, so what did I know?

* * *

"You did not say anything about riding a horse." I was giving the horse the same look the horse was giving me—if horses are capable of incredulity. Drake stood at my shoulder, trying to convince me to get on.

"Haven’t you ridden a horse before? I thought you were from Oklahoma."

"I am from Oklahoma and believe me when I say that not all people in Oklahoma are experts on riding horses."

"You don’t think you can stay on?" Drew walked over, grinning as usual.

"I can stay on. I just don’t know what shape my ass is gonna be in when I get off." I slapped Drew lightly on the arm. He and Drake had dressed me that morning, showing me how to strap on my new blades, which were beautiful—the workmanship was amazing. I almost hated to use them; I didn’t want to mess them up. I also had throwing knives—three of them—in side sheaths. I’d never thrown knives and I always had my claws if I needed to slice something.

"We’ll take care of your ass," Drake’s hand was now on said ass. They’d seen to it the night before, too. "Now, get on your horse."

"Fine." I jumped onto the horse without using stirrups. Drake cleared his throat at my inappropriate antics. "Hey, you didn’t say how you wanted it done." I stuck my feet in the stirrups and nudged the horse with my boots, as I’d seen the others do. He moved off. Drake and Drew climbed into their saddles and came after me.