Shea made a show of looking around. "Where am I to go?"
He glared at her, making it clear he didn't like her response but then dropped his arms and walked to the tent flap. Shea breathed an inward sign of relief. Another crisis averted. Maybe she'd make it out of this with her secrets intact after all.
"I'll be right outside."
Shea didn't respond. Only when the flap swung shut behind him did she allow the tension running through her to relax. Not by much but enough that she didn't feel like every muscle was wound to the breaking point.
Her ears strained as she listened for any sound indicating he might have changed his mind and was planning to come back. Moving quickly she flung off her clothes, nearly groaning in relief when it came time to unwind the bindings that kept her chest flat.
Angry red welts marked her skin from the uncomfortable but necessary wrappings.
She climbed into the warm water. This time her groan was long and drawn out. Her muscles immediately responded to the heat by loosening and letting some of the tightness float away. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy a luxury she hadn't had in months before grabbing the soap and making short work of cleaning off.
Every stolen moment enjoying the water meant a greater possibility of someone walking in on her. Truthfully, she shouldn't have even undressed all the way to climb in. Up until now she had contented herself with birdbaths where she took a rag and cleaned the pertinent areas. It allowed her to stay mostly clothed while getting clean enough that she didn't want to scratch her own skin off in disgust.
This was too big a temptation to walk away from though. She compromised by rushing through it.
She was just settling a clean shirt over her head when the flap lifted and Trenton ducked inside.
She fought the urge to spin around and bit back the scathing words on her tongue. This sort of thing was normal for Trateri. Objecting would just raise suspicions.
"It's time to go."
Shea's head bent as she fussed with the sleeves of her too big shirt, tugging at them so they lay just right over her wrists. The pants, too, swam on her and had to be held up with a tight belt. The previous owner had been several inches taller so she had rolled the hem to fit her height.
"Your clothes are too big."
Shea lifted her head and squinted up to see Trenton frowning at her. He pinched the fabric of her shirt between his fingers and pulled on it.
Shea slapped his hand and jerked away.
"They'll get in the way if you're ever attacked," he told her sourly.
Shea made a noncommittal sound and edged around him to pick up the green leather coat that designated her as a scout. It fit better than the rest of her clothes but not by much, having been made for a man with much wider shoulders than hers.
"You're not a scout anymore."
She growled and stalked out of the tent.
"You're one of Hawkvale's warriors now. You should be wearing his colors."
"Since I haven't been issued a new jacket, I'm forced to go with what I have," Shea snapped.
"Still-"
"Didn't you say we needed to go?" Shea interrupted, not wanting to hear about the jacket again.
He frowned at her, the bridge of his nose crinkling, and then grunted before turning and walking away. Shea followed, already irritated. Her anger level rose with every foot step until she was fairly simmering by the time they stopped in front of Fallon's tent.
He didn't wait to let her enter first but continued in before her, stepping to the side only when she followed. Two of the sides had been rolled up to allow light in and to take advantage of the nice breeze.
The space inside was huge not only in length and width but also in height. The gently moving ceiling was at least the height of two men, making the room even larger than the great room at Birdon Leaf.
An abundance of tantalizing smells greeted them and place settings had been set on two long tables. Normally, Trateri tended to perch on any available surface when eating, or if they were dining more formally, they sat on cushions and ate at low tables.
This table was normal sized, in the tradition of the Lowlanders, and had sturdy wooden chairs with low backs. For a normal sized man, the top of the chair would only reach his lower back. It wasn't much better than a stool.
Eamon, Phillip and Buck were huddled at the farthest end of a table. Shea headed straight for them, feeling relieved to see familiar faces. Buck and Eamon tried to keep the excitement they felt under wraps. Phillip was his normal indecipherable self.
"Where have you been?" Eamon asked as soon as she arrived.
She opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by Trenton. "He tried to leave on another mission."
"What?" Both Eamon and Buck looked at her like she had grown three heads.
She tried to speak but didn't get even a word out.
"What were you thinking?" Eamon asked.
"We just got back." Buck's words ran over Eamon's. "Aren't you the least bit tired?"
"Never mind." Buck waved away her response. "I'm being made a scout master. I'm getting my own team."
Shea couldn't believe her ears. The assignment of scout master was very competitive. Not every scout got the chance. Only the best
"That's great." She didn't have to fake the enthusiasm in her voice. It was great. Buck deserved it.
He grinned at her. "Not as great as this guy's news. Tell her."
She looked expectantly at Eamon whose grin nearly split his face.
"They're promoting me to the Western Wind Scout Division Commander."
She blinked twice, not quite believing she'd heard right. There were only five Scout Division Commanders in the Trateri army. One for each of the military elements. It wasn't just a promotion, it was an elevation in rank and status.
He'd have complete control in the way the scout units in his division were run. He'd be responsible for assigning units to missions, their training, everything.
"I don't believe it," she finally said.
"I know," he told her. "I didn't either, but the Hawkvale himself gave me the appointment. It's as good as done."
An awkward silence fell as they waited for her excitement.
The smile she gave this time was slightly strained, but she meant it when she said, "Congratulations. There's no one who could do a better job than you."
He gave her another smile which she returned.
She looked at Phillip, expecting him to tell her what he'd gotten.
He looked a little ill at ease as he said, "I'd prefer to keep what I received to myself for now."
She nodded. She understood. Maybe he was like her and would have rather returned his ‘gift.'
"What about you?" Buck asked.
"What do you mean?"
"We all got something. What did you get?"
Another silence fell as Shea wrestled with what to tell them. For some reason, she was unwilling to share her draft into Hawkvale's personal guard.
"He'll be one of Hawkvale's warriors," Trenton spoke up behind her.
A silence fell as she found herself scrutinized by Eamon and Buck. She gave Trenton a dirty look. He stared back at her unfazed.
"I'll be damned," Buck nearly whispered.
"I didn't think it was possible for someone who wasn't Trateri to become an Anateri Warrior," Eamon said.
"Hawkvale is making an exception in Shane's case." To Shea, he said, "You're the only one of your team the Hawkvale hasn't spoken to yet, and he wants that done before the meal so you need to come with me."
Every muscle on Shea's body locked, and she took a deep breath. She nodded and followed Trenton into the walled off portion of the tent. She braced herself as she stepped through, feeling the fabric drop behind her, cutting her off from the rest of the gathering.
The other side surprised her, and she stopped mid step. She looked around wide eyed. The Trateri's ability to adapt their surroundings to their specific taste and preference always impressed her. They had a way of taking what should have been a humble lifestyle and inserting into it a grandeur and elegance not often found in the Broken Lands.
Fallon Hawkvale's chambers embraced this concept so well that it was difficult to believe this space existed in a simple tent that could be packed up and moved on a weekly basis.
Tapestries alive with intricate embroidery were stretched across ornately carved wooden frames, giving the room the impression of painted walls. The sloped canopy of the ceiling had several fabric panels cut out to allow air flow to keep the space cool and fresh. In the possibility of rain or cold weather, each ‘window' had fabric that could be rolled over it to attach to the sides.
There wasn't just one large rug on the ground but several, each piled one on top of the other so when a person walked across it their feet sank into the plush fabric. It was soft and thick under Shea's shoes, leaving no impression of the uneven ground below. No bumps from rocks or clods of dirt marred the geometric designs and vivid colors.