Page 66 of Claimed By the Alien Barbarian

We took the path toward the village, her pointing out various plants and even identifying the creatures creating splashes in the ocean in the water below.

As we entered through the open stone archway, she tugged on my sleeve, pulling me ahead of Khol and into the shadows behind the wall. He was out of view for only a moment, but it was long enough for her to lean close and whisper.

“Tell Nevarn that Khol was Weela’s lover.”

Chapter 32

Nevarn

Isat with my brother in the central building where he conducted official business.

“You plan to travel to the Veerenad city to present the first draft of our treaty rather than send someone in your stead?” I asked, crossing one leg over the other.

“Yes, I’ll leave next week.” He leaned back in his chair. “This is a good time of year to travel.”

Even flying his ryvar, it would take him days to reach the city. He’d have to leave his ryvar some distance away. The Veerenad weren’t above hunting our large birds and Firion would never endanger his beast, Perrin.

“Do you have any suggestions for the treaty now that you’ve heard my and the other traedors’ conditions?” Firion asked.

“I wouldn’t give them that much territory. Cut it in half.” The proposal would give the Veerenads some land between here and their city for expansion, land that was considered Dastalon, though none of the clan lived there. All preferred island life over anything on the mainland.

“Why not give them this much?”

“Because they’ll fill that area and ask for or demand more. You know how often they hatch young, how quickly their population is expanding. They should consider stretching out in the opposite direction, not encroaching on our territory here.”

He frowned. “You think so?”

“If they ask later, you could grant them more at that time rather than now. Did you have a chance to speak to Xax and Aizor about their wishes for the treaty?”

“Only Aizor attended the clan gathering. Xax and his clan didn’t come.”

“Stop by the Indigan Clan on your way, then. I’m sure he’d like to have input. He’s interacted with them many times. He could give you ideas you haven’t thought of.”

Firion nodded slowly before grunting. “You’re right. This is why I wanted your input. I knew you’d have some excellent suggestions.”

My grandfather had never asked me anything. He was more interested in telling me what to do instead. Do this task. Settle in this house, not the other. Mate with Weela whether you want to or not. I’d felt I had no choice but to give into his demands. It was only when I was banished and no longer under his control that I realized I could act as I saw wanted, not as someone else believed I should.

That was part of the reason I had no interest in moving back here. I liked that I could make the decisions I felt were best for my clan.

However, because of my grandfather’s controlling behavior, I’d quickly formed a council with three of the males who’d left this clan with me. When I needed to make decisions, I sought their input. Often, one would see things in a way I hadn’t, and his advice would guide me to make a better decision.

“Anything else?” my brother asked.

“Have you reached out to the Browze Clan?”

“The desert people?” He frowned. “I sent word with a clan flyer, but they couldn’t track them down.”

“They’re a wandering clan, so I’m not surprised.” The Browze Clan traveled across the desert, carrying their homes on their backs and living with the oasis gods. I’d often thought about traveling to their land, of meeting and getting to know them, but I hadn’t. Too many duties to attend to within my own clan for something like that. “Too bad your male couldn’t locate them.”

“I could fly over the outskirts of their territory with Perrin on my way,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare try to cross the entire area, but I might see them and can soar down and ask.”

“No one dares travel across their territory without carrying lots of water.” The oases tended to pop up and disappear when needed based on the sand gods’ whim. I couldn’t imagine living with gods who didn’t support their clan, but the Browze people didn’t seem to mind. They were used to it, I supposed.

“I’ll venture as far over their land as I dare,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll see someone and can send word to their traedor.”

“Who is their traedor now?” I vaguely remember hearing their older traedor had died without an heir, leaving the clan to choose another.

“I don’t know. It would be good to find out.” His steady gaze met mine. “Any other suggestions related to the draft treaty?”

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