Page 188 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

The way he phrases it gives me the impression he’s not talking about their customs, but whatever ‘truth’ about my family he thinks he knows. “Now I’m really nervous,” I joke with a chuckle, but it falls flat, sounding forced. Tor seems to appreciate the effort, though, as he gives me a half smile.

“Tor, should we be concerned?” Vaeril inquires from my other side.

The question seems to offend the tribesman as he sits up in his saddle, looking even bigger than usual, his frown turning severe. “No, you will all be welcomed as honoured guests.”

“Let’s get this over with then.” I’m not sure I can stand the suspense of not knowing for much longer. Knowing there are answers waiting for me just on the other side of the rocky ridge before us is making me feel sick with nerves.Excited. I’m excited, right?I try to convince myself, but the twisting in my gut tells me otherwise.Why am I suddenly filled with dread?

In silence, we all turn our horses and start following the path once more. Tor is in the lead with me behind him. Vaeril follows me with Naril protecting our backs. We ride for about fifteen minutes before the first horn sounds. It’s loud, and I nearly topple from my horse as the deep, keening noise echoes from the rocks around us. It soon stops, and Tor doesn’t seem botheredby it, but as we continue, another one sounds. It’s eerie, like some giant creature calling for its lost mate, and it makes the hair stand up on my arms.

Feeling eyes on me, I glance around and see that Tor is watching me with a slight smile. “The watchers are signalling that someone is approaching,” he explains, as the noise starts up again, closer this time.

I swivel my head around quickly, as if I can catch sight of whoever is making the noise, when I hear Tor’s quiet chuckle. “I can’t see anyone.”

“They are hidden in the rock.” He gestures to the wall of rock around us, which is full of crevices and ridges, perfect for hiding in.

“It’s a loud noise for someone who is so well hidden,” Naril calls out dryly from the back of our convoy, and he makes a fair point. Why be hidden if you’re going to give away your position by making such a loud sound?

Tor grins now, but it’s not a nice smile. “If we were unwanted, they would’ve used a different signal.” I get the impression that if we wereunwanted, that this signal would be rough and unpleasant. “We are expected, and she wants everyone to know we are arriving.”

We all fall silent again as Tor faces forward, his tone not inviting conversation. I assume the ‘she’ he mentioned is the leader of the tribes. When he spoke of her before, I always got the impression he admired her, since he worked closely with her, but now I’m not so sure.

The cliffs on either side of the valley are narrowing down now, and just ahead, I can see what looks like a crude archway of stone. The rock towers so high above us that it’s blocking out the sunlight, and I can’t fully blame the cold for the shiver that racks my body, as there’s an eeriness about this place. My horse looks about nervously, so I lean forward and stroke her neckcalmingly, cooing softly. Her ears flick back, and I know she’s listening to me as she seems to settle.

Reaching the archway, I watch with bated breath as Tor enters on horseback, the darkness of the arch seemingly engulfing him.It’s just a trick of the light,I assure myself. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Vaeril studying me with an intense expression, and I know that if I said I wanted to go back, he would turn his horse around right now. Beyond him, Naril is somehow able to look both bored and alert at the same time.

Looking back at the ominous archway, I take a deep breath as my horse walks under the rock. Everything goes dark, but almost immediately, light returns as the cliffs open into a large clearing. Large, circular tents made from animal hides are dotted around the space, and as we follow a well-worn trail through the center of the clearing, I see tall, carved stones lining the way. The meeting place is much larger than I expected it to be, but then I suppose when it’s required for all of the tribes to come together, an enormous space would be needed. The tents are all spaced out and go on for as far as the eye can see, except I don’t see many tribespeople. There are a few who stop when they see us, making a symbol with their hands before following us towards the center of the clearing.

Tor is sitting tall in his saddle in front of us, and when he turns his head, his face is hard, and I’m suddenly glad he warned me that he would have to act differently here. A couple of people call out in a language I don’t recognise, and Tor greets them with a nod of his head or by raising his right hand in the air, his fist clenched, a gesture which they return with a triumphant cry. I refrain from looking over my shoulder to see if Vaeril is as confused as I am, and I’m grateful when he sends me a reassuring purr down the bond. It’s an odd sensation to try and describe, but it warms me from the inside and makes me feelstronger somehow. Sitting taller, I keep my gaze forward as we continue our journey.

The terrain of the cliff on our right is changing, and we seem to be going uphill slightly. Reaching a plateau, we come to a stop, and my eyes widen at what lies before me, a gasp escaping my lips. The tents are much grander here, and this is obviously some sort of meeting point. Large chairs and wooden benches are placed in a circle around a bonfire. A ring of tall stones is strategically placed outside of the fire, each one intricately carved, but that’s not what has me gasping. Just beyond the stones, the cliffside drops away, creating a vista point overlooking the rest of the mountains and showing the most beautiful view. I can see why this area was chosen for their meeting point and sacred stones. It’s enclosed, safe, beautiful, and it feels…magical.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

The voice catches me by surprise, and it’s one I’ve never heard before, but for some reason, I feel like it’s a voice I’ve known my whole life. It’s familiar, yet belongs to a stranger. Turning from the view, I realise with surprise that I’ve drifted away from the others. I hadn’t realised I’d moved away from them. Looking for the source of the voice, I see a woman standing by the entrance of one of the large tents facing the standing stones. A jolt of something goes through me as our eyes meet, and I instantly know who she is.

“High Chief,” Tor greets, quickly dismounting from his horse before crossing his arm over his chest and bowing slightly. He hurries over to my side and offers me his arm. I don’t need his help to get off my horse, but because I don’t know the customs here, and the woman who’s obviously the chief is watching me closely, I take his arm and climb down from my saddle. Once on solid ground, I take in the woman before me and can tell she’sdoing exactly the same—sizing me up. “Clarissa, this is High Chief Revna.”

She’s wearing an outfit similar to the men’s, with a leather breastplate fitted over her chest and hide pants. She’s muscled but slim like me, and she has the pale skin and dark hair of the tribespeople. This woman looks like she’s had many hardships in her life. Scars litter her skin, and as I look closer, her tattoos seem to wrap around them like frames, honouring her struggles as victories rather than hiding them as impurities. In her braided hair, she wears a headdress of feathers and ribbon, marking her status. Like every other tribesperson I’ve met, she looks intimidating, especially as she stares down at me, her dark eyes boring into mine.

Realising I should be bowing or something, I dip my head in a show of respect, and when I look back up, her eyes are sparkling with amusement and the corner of her mouth is twitching up into a smile.

“High Chief,” Tor calls again, gesturing to my elven companions, and I don’t miss the flicker of annoyance in her eyes before she schools her expression into one of neutral interest. “This is High Elf Lord Vaeril, Clarissa’s mate, and High Elf Lord Naril, her companion and protector.” As tribesman introduces them, they dismount and join me with Vaeril close at my side. I can feel how difficult this is for my mate through the bond, his instincts on high alert with all these people gathering to watch us. They might not mean us any harm, but the mountain tribes are an intimidating bunch.

“Mate and protector. Interesting,” the chief drawls, her tone dry as her eyes run over them, and I get the impression she’s less than impressed that they’re here. So much for Tor’s promise of ‘welcome honoured guests.’ Quickly dismissing the elves, she moves her attention back to me, her eyes brightening with an emotion I’m unable to place before it vanishes as she takes astep towards me. “Welcome home, Clarissa,” she starts, finally smiling. Her body language changes, and her face lights up. I get the feeling she doesn’t smile often, but when she does, it’s genuine. “As Torsten said, I am the elected high chief of the mountain tribesmen, but I am more than that.” She pauses, and I swear I see her hands tremble for a second before she balls them into fists and crosses her arms over her chest, except that can’t be right. This strong woman couldn’t possibly be nervous or scared. “Do you know who I am to you?”

“You’re my aunt,” I answer with certainty, and I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. Looking at this woman is like looking at myself in thirty years’ time. While I may be slighter in build, I have the same dark hair and eyes, and the same pale skin, all the things that made me stand out in Arhaven. My more delicate frame and high cheek bones must be from my father’s fae side, but the similarities between me and the woman in front of me is undeniable.

The leader of the mountain tribes is my aunt. Glancing across at Tor, I arch an eyebrow, silently telling him we’ll be having words later. He at least has the decency to wince slightly at my look before straightening when Revna glances over at him. When he said that my aunt was with his tribe, I assumed she was being protected by them. Had it crossed my mind that she was one of them? No. I’d not given much thought to what she would be like or held much hope that any of this would actually be true.

“How is this possible?” Vaeril looks as confused as I feel, Naril more so as he looks between me and the chief. More tribespeople have joined us now, making the large clearing suddenly feel smaller as they watch me. The group is made up of four males and two females, all of varying ages, a couple of whom grin over at Tor and start as if to greet him, but they stop when they see me.

“Is that her?” one of the males whispers reverently. He looks to be about Tor’s age and has shorter hair than the others, wearing it in a mohawk instead of the longer braided style they seem to favour.

One of the females punches his shoulder and gestures towards me. “Look at her, of course it is.”

Chief Revna watches them with a raised eyebrow and shakes her head before returning her attention back to me. “Let’s go inside where you can rest and we can discuss everything.” She gestures to the large tent she exited from originally. “I’m sure it has been a long journey for you.” She gives me a slight smile again before disappearing through the flaps of the tent.

Staring after her, I take a deep breath. A hand touches my back, startling me, but when I glance over, I see it’s Vaeril. I give him a tight smile, answering his silent question with a nod.I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.If I say it enough times, it makes it true, right?

---