Page 108 of Blood Fist
Gustall glanced between Corric and Brune. “You two are the only ones here who have seen the walls. Would an attack be possible?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Brune looked down at the map. “I don’t have your kind of experience, but…no. I don’t see how.”
Corric nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “Perhaps if we had the resources to hold them. Keep them locked away until they starve. But we don’t have the manpower for something of that scale. Or the time.”
“He’s right,” Ridan agreed. “If Sinestrus is this close to breaking out, there’s no way Krait will sit idle. I’d rather be here to protect the mountain.”
That seemed to be the only thing they all agreed on.
Pushing off the table, Ridan rubbed his eyes until spots danced behind his lids. His decision to recall the farmers had been met with a lot of questions. Why would he pull them in when they were going into the lean season? He’d given them three days to harvest what they could. What they couldn’t would feed the animals. There was no way he would risk them so far from the clan, and he didn’t have the warriors to protect them.
The people of the Stone Blade obeyed his commands, but he could see the question in their eyes. He would have to tell them soon. Was there a way he could tell people who had been raised in relative peace that there was something unimaginable on the horizon? That the very thing they’d been conditioned to fear was happening? And that their chief only knew about it because he’d dabbled in thatvery thing.
Only a few months into his position, and he’d already destroyed the trust they had in him. But what was the alternative? Risking his people being unprepared? No, that was worse.
Not for the first time, he thought of his mother. She never seemed to falter. Her decisions were quick and sure. Chief Restrina never worried if she would be well liked. She did what she thought was right, and their people followed her.
A warm hand laid on his shoulder. Ridan opened his eyes to see Brune looking at him with concern. His eyebrows were drawn back to the room as he focused on Ridan. They hadn’t been this close since that night and Ridan had to fight the urge to drop into his arms, let them wrap around him again. Brune wouldn’t drop him. He’d press Ridan close and give him all the strength he needed.
But Ridan wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. How could he when he didn’t know what they were? Brunehadn’t quite rejected Ridan’s demand for mating, but he hadn’t initiated a courtship, either. He’d been angry about it. Ridan didn’tneedall of that formality. He wanted Brune, and Brune wanted him. They had something between them, something that transcended the uncertainty of the future.
He didn’t need it, but the longer he thought about it, he realized he wanted it. Ridan wanted Brune to come to him like his mother had done for his father. To hold his head high in front of his people and choose Ridan. Somehow, Brune had known that. He’d known just how important the honor, the tradition, was to Ridan and it only made him want his alpha more.
The tent had gone quiet with Ridan’s indecision. With Brune’s rocky scent in his nose, it made it difficult to bring his mind back to where it needed to be. Taking a final deep breath, he touched Brune’s elbow gently. Just a press of fingers to let him know he was fine.
“How will they free Sinestrus?” Osmond asked from where he’d been playing with one of his daggers, lips pursed in thought. “If they even get to the mountain. How will they let him free? He’s been trapped by Artrax for millennia. It won’t be as simple as opening a door.”
Ridan paused. He hadn’t considered what would happen if Kaldonea got through them.
“Maybe there’s something in the legend?” Brune suggested, looking around the room.
“The legend has been passed down from generation to generation,” Gustall answered with a sigh. “Details have been lost or changed with time. All we really know is that Artrax, along with a few other dragons, gathered our ancestors to fight Sinestrus in a great battle. In the end, Artrax gave his life to lock Sinestrus away in his final scale. Before leaving, the remainingdragons erected the mountain around the scale to protect it.”
Osmond nodded. “My mother told me it was the land itself that rose up in a mountain to honor Artrax.”
“My father told me it was the Elves,” Henroen said.
Ridan himself had heard several variations to the story. The core story stayed the same, but every family seemed to have their own details to throw in. It was part of what made the legend so fun to repeat around the hearth.
“What about the drawings?” Brune asked hesitantly. “The ones on the mountain. Didn’t your ancestors draw those?”
He had been preoccupied the last time he went up to the Shrieking Cliffs, but he remembered Brune looking at the drawings scrawled along the granite.
“They drew those to tell the story, right? So that it would never be forgotten?”
Gustall shrugged. “Possibly.”
“Why else would you draw something on the wall but to remind the future generations what they fought for?”
He had a point. And if they had done that, then it was likely it was as close to the truth as they could ever get.
Ridan turned to Corric. He still looked wretched, but his eyes met Ridan’s. “Find Halm and Derry. Take them to the cliffs. Get Ms. Learned to see them in person. Maybe he can find something.”
For a moment he thought Corric would fight him, but he nodded, blinking slowly. Sending Corric when he was clearly upset about something was a risk, but Jonen was out with Niklas seeing to the farmers, and he didn’t want him to be alone. Besides, Corric loved riding out to the mountain.
Corric ducked his head in deference before exiting, taking his bitter scent with him. Ridan watched his retreating back and tried not to second guess his decision.
“In the meantime, we need to make sure we have enough sentries out. If Kaldonea is coming, I don’t want to be surprised.” His counselors nodded in agreement.