Page 73 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

“But he didn’t say they couldn’t have funeral rites.”

Erhi pursed her lips.

“They are people like us,” Shuree argued. “Wouldn’t you want our warriors to be shown the same respect?”

Erhi’s lips slowly widened into a smile. “Yes. Let us go now.”

Relief filled Shuree as she returned to the cart with Erhi. “Has the hole already been dug?” she asked the elder.

He nodded.

“Then Erhi and I will see they are buried properly.”

His mouth dropped open. “You can’t mean to give these filthy animals the funeral rites!”

“That is exactly what I aim to do.” She climbed onto the driver’s bench seat and took the reins from him. “You can help us.”

He jumped down from the cart. “I will not!”

She sighed. “Then please tell anyone who is looking for me I will be back shortly.”

Erhi climbed up beside her and it didn’t take long to find the hole. Shuree and Erhi lifted the legs of the first body and dragged it towards them. It was cold and stiff and when the face came into view, Shuree fought back the urge to wail. He was barely more than a boy, only a few years older than Sube who stood guard. He wouldn’t have even grown his first whisker. A carving of a wolf was pinned to his top, probably a good luck charm. Tears ran down her cheeks. Somewhere a mother grieved the loss of her child, a child who she would have tucked into bed only a few years ago.

After they lay the boy in the hole, Erhi stroked Shuree’s back. “He is with his gods now. Qadan will take care of him.”

She swallowed, not sure it would be much consolation for his mother. She avoided looking at the faces of the rest of the dead, the similarities of their clothing too close to their own warriors. How many Saltar men would be like these and never return home?

When they were all in the ground, Erhi lit a torch and wafted smoke over them, circling the grave three times while praying, sending them to the afterlife with love. “May Qadan guide you and may you ride the steppes endlessly.”

They covered the bodies in dirt.

Shuree was filthy by the time they finished, but her mind was calm. She had done the right thing. When she arrived back at camp, she cleaned herself and then made a round of the perimeter. They really were at a disadvantage with the warriors away. She was the only woman who knew how to fight. The communal tasks were still very much divided between men’s and women’s roles, but she knew of men who hated to fight, and she had wanted to be like her father from a very young age. It was another thing she’d tried to convince her father to change.

Shuree knocked on Maidar’s door. Most everyone gathered at her yurt as she had the largest space and lived alone.

“Come in!”

Shuree pushed open the door and, as she’d suspected, a dozen older men and women sat around Maidar’s table eating, drinking and doing their tribal tasks like embroidery or fletching arrows.

“Shuree, welcome.” Maidar held out her arms and Shuree placed her hands on the elder’s gnarled fingers. “What brings you here?”

Shuree smiled. “I am seeking advice.”

Maidar beamed. “Then sit. We can all offer advice, but whether it is any good is another matter entirely. Help yourself to food and drink.”

Shuree sat on one of the cushions next to the low table and placed a little cheese and meat on her plate. She wasn’t at all hungry, but it would be rude not to eat.

“What is it you want to know?” Maidar asked.

Taking a deep breath, Shuree said, “I am worried. I worry the raids are becoming more frequent and more violent; I worry they are now kidnapping our women; I worry our tribe is left undefended when our warriors retaliate; I worry we won’t have a tribe left if this continues.”

A fletcher looked up and then swore as he cut his finger. The rest of the elders stared at her, the weight of their gaze heavy.

“Do you not trust your father to lead us?” Koke, one of the most senior elders asked.

Shuree’s eyes widened. “No, it’s not that.” Bless the ancestors, she hadn’t considered they might see it that way. “I merely wondered whether there may be a different way, something Father hasn’t considered, a way we used to do things, a time when there was peace between the tribes.”

“You are right to worry.” Maidar glared at Koke. “All my children are dead because of the violence.” She glanced around the table. “All of us have lost at least one child.”

---