Ilyenna hurried after them. “Where will you be working?” she whispered to Narium.
Narium glanced at the man before she whispered back, “In the fields.”
“Then where are the men working?”
“They’re gathering river stones.”
“To build what?” Ilyenna asked.
Before Narium could answer, Ilyenna bumped into one of the other women. All of them had stopped, their mouths set in grim lines. Ilyenna followed their gazes down the long road. A cluster of dirty, ragged women trudged toward them. One woman staggered and fell. A man rode up behind her and whacked her with a switch. She lifted her arms as if to protect her head, then lurched to her feet and scurried forward. Ilyenna’s eyes widened as she recognized her—Larina.
Cold fury burned within her. These were her people—her clanwomen. She recognized the others one by one. Jossa, Wenly, Kanni, Parsha, and Bet. Lowering her head like a charging bull, Ilyenna marched forward. A hand clamped down on her wrist.
Narium pulled her back and hissed in her ear, “You want to know what our clanmen have been building for these devils we call Tyrans?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Another tiam house. Did you really think Undon would settle for taking only you?”
Suddenly, Ilyenna couldn’t catch her breath. “How long has he been planning this?”
Narium shrugged. “Undon’s no fool. He knew the Shyle would aid the Argons.”
“From the beginning,” Ilyenna finished, answering her own question. Tears of betrayal filled her eyes. The group of Shyle women moved closer. Each was around the same age as Ilyenna. She didn’t want to dwell on the reason young women had been chosen. She tried to pull free, but Narium held her firmly.
“They might know about my father, my brother,” Ilyenna protested.
Narium’s grip only tightened. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Fear blossomed in Ilyenna’s breast like a thistle flower. Bratton and her father had been fighting Tyrans when she’d been taken. Had Undon simply waited for her to leave before killing them? Perhaps she hadn’t saved anyone. “Do you think”—she cleared her throat— “do you think they’re dead?”
The women next to her shifted to let someone through. Rone. He rested a hand on her arm. “Even Undon wouldn’t dare kill a surrendered clan chief.”
She watched as her clanwomen milled uncertainly near the barn, and suddenly she had a purpose. A clan. Tiams be strapped! She was still their clan mistress. “Make the roof of their house tight.”
Warily scrutinizing her, Rone nodded.
Shrieks erupted all around Ilyenna. The Tyran with the strap was using it on any tiam he could reach.
Gripping her skirt, Ilyenna dashed toward her clanwomen. Relief and hope crossed their faces when they saw her. “Ilyenna,” some of them cried.
Larina gripped her hand. “What are we to do?”
The other women voiced so many questions that Ilyenna could barely distinguish one from another. “Quiet. There isn’t time,” she commanded softly. Her eyes met Larina’s. The girl had a pained look Ilyenna had seen on the chronically ill. “Are you hurt?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Larina hugged herself tight. “I’m fine.”
“What happened after I left the clan house?”
Larina squeezed her eyes shut.
Bet answered, “They took everything they wanted. Killed or beat anyone who tried to stop them.”
“And my father and brother?” Ilyenna forced the words out.
“They were badly beaten, but still alive when we left,” Jossa said.
“How many of you are there?” Ilyenna asked as she began counting.
“Eleven,” Bet said. Her eyes took in Ilyenna’s ripped dress. “What’re we to do?”
Ilyenna wet her cracked lips and stepped closer. “For now, do what you’re told. If you don’t, you’ll be beaten.” Pain shot through her back. She tried to hold in her cry, but it came anyway. On her knees, she turned to see Darrien standing over her, strap in hand. “You dare keep Undon waiting for his breakfast?”
Casting a warning glance back at her clanwomen, she scampered away from him and ran. Humiliating as it was to flee from Darrien or his strap, she hoped her clanwomen would watch and learn to do as they were told as quickly as they could.
***
Metha kept Ilyenna busy with dishes and scrubbing until long after the plump woman had fallen asleep before the hearth. But at least Ilyenna had managed to find a forgotten, moth-eaten rag she could use in place of a clan belt. Moments after she left the clan house, Rone stepped out from behind a tree. He handed her another wrapped bundle.
“Did they feed you anything today?”
She shrugged. “Metha wasn’t pleased with my cleaning of the chamber pots, but at least I had breakfast.” She didn’t mention it had been a piece of moldy bread.
Opening Rone’s offering, she found an oatmeal biscuit and a boiled egg, but she hesitated to take it. “Is this from your own share?” If he gave this to her, he wouldn’t have enough for himself.
He kicked at the dirt. “No. It’s from the allotment given the tiams.”
“Thank you.” She took a bite of the egg. She’d give just about anything for a withered old winter apple right now. “How are my clanwomen?”
Rone glanced at her sideways. “The Shyle are a strong people, but they need you to reassure them.”
He opened the door to the women’s house, and Ilyenna surveyed the sullen faces. An even mixture of Shyle and Argon women.
Why has Undon taken three Argon men but no Shyle men? Ilyenna wondered.
“It isn’t right, Clan Mistress,” Larina cried. “The Tyrans had no cause to take even one tiam, and they’ve taken eleven of us.”
“To take a clan mistress or clan chief is unheard of,” Jossa put in, “and they’ve taken three and killed the other.”
More grumbles rose up. Ilyenna lifted her hands and said firmly, “I know, but there’s nothing we can do right now. The clan chiefs meet for the spring feast in a month. They’ll hear of our plight and force Undon to release us.”
Larina sniffed. “And what are we to do until then?”
Ilyenna looked into the women’s faces one at a time, making sure each of them met her gaze. “War and peace—opposite ends of the Balance. Make no mistake about it, we are in a war. Battles will be lost, but only when winning will cost more than can be gained. Keep together as much as possible. Look after each other.”
Kanni asked Rone, “What do the Tyrans expect of us?”
He stepped forward. “The men are gathering stones for a new tiam house. The women have been put to work in the fields. The rest of the Tyrans aren’t as cruel as Undon and Darrien, but try to avoid them. And Ilyenna’s right—it is best to stay in groups.” He eyed the women. “Especially you clanwomen. Some of the men have been . . .” He glanced at Ilyenna. “Unruly.”
The women lowered their heads. Larina gripped her overdress so tight Ilyenna wondered that it didn’t disintegrate beneath her clenched fists.
The door opened and a burly Argon slipped inside. “Men from the clan house are coming this way.”
Rone reached for the axe that was no longer there. He grimaced. “You women better get in bed. You’ll have less than two minutes.” He paused at Ilyenna’s shoulder. “I’ll not be far. Call out if you need me.” He joined the other man out the door.
The women scrambled to wrap up in their blankets. Rone had calculated correctly. No sooner had the last woman tucked the blankets around her than the door opened. Darrien stepped inside, a line of men behind him. His gaze raked across the women. Reaching the nearest one, he yanked off Jossa’s blanket. “Sleeping in our overdresses now, are we?”
“If Tyrans are going to barge in here, we certainly won’t be sleeping in only our underdresses,” Narium shot back as she clambered to her feet. Ilyenna and the other women did the same.
Darrien crossed the room to Narium in three strides. He lifted his fist. Narium didn’t flinch. He shook his head and dropped his hand. His eyes searched the room, stopping on Ilyenna. He pulled his axe from the loop at his belt.
Has he come to kill me? she wondered.
She wished Rone hadn’t left. The temptation to call for him nearly overwhelmed her, but she knew Narium was right. If Rone interfered, he’d be killed. No matter what happened, Ilyenna had to keep her mouth shut.
Besides, she’d been marked. Death would seek her at every turn. The question was, how many more times could she evade it?
Darrien casually tested the weight of his axe. “I have reports you had a meeting here tonight. What was said?”
Other Tyran men crowded into the room. Big, strong men with axes, against unarmed women. It would be a massacre. Ilyenna felt like she was suffocating. Some of the women exchanged terrified glances.
Darrien wandered through the room, staring the women down. “A good tiam answers when her master asks a question.” He paused beside Ilyenna, his shoulder brushing hers. “Shall I show them what happens when a tiam refuses to submit?” She clenched her teeth to keep from making a sound.
He gripped Narium’s arm. “Shall I start with you?” He shoved her toward the door. Narium stumbled and hit the floor hard. Darrien reached for her again.