“So he tried to drown you!” Rone roared.
Ilyenna shook her head. “No. He shoved me when I tried to hurt him.”
She finally allowed herself to look at Rone, really look at him. He was a good man. He might not love her, but he didn’t deserve her hatred. Neither did her baby. With that thought, the newborn flames of hate Ilyenna had nurtured toward him sputtered and died. She could only hope those same flames hadn’t charred part of her soul.
She hadn’t quite forgiven him. But somehow she knew she would.
“He let you go?” Rone asked, his brow furrowed.
Had he? Ilyenna got the feeling Darrien would never let her go. That she’d never be strong enough to completely free herself of him. Unable to stop herself, she reached up and cupped Rone’s face in her hand. “For now.”
He took her hand in his. “I’ll get you back. From now on, you stay inside the encampment until the Council meets.” He began pulling her toward camp.
19. The Link
Ressa stumbled into the tent. Behind her, Varris came in, holding a small tub of water. After she’d set it down, Ressa motioned for her daughter to leave them. The younger woman glanced at Ilyenna before moving to obey. Ressa inspected Ilyenna as if doubting her eyes. “He really let you go?”
“Yes.” Ilyenna stripped off her clothes and dropped them into the water Varris had brought. She pushed the clothes down to release the air, then began wringing out the salt.
Ressa crossed her arms. “I’m sorry. Rone was right. I shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.” Her lips pulled down into a severe frown. “I just wanted to give you a moment’s peace. I’m so sorry.”
“Rone didn’t want me to go?”
Ressa shook her head. “He started after you and I stopped him. When word came that the Tyrans had come, he took off after you.”
Ilyenna tried to smile, but her lips seemed to have forgotten how. “No harm done.”
Ressa nodded shortly. “Otec is here.”
“My father?”
“He’s asked to see you.” The older clan mistress seemed to be gauging Ilyenna’s reaction.
Ilyenna crumpled, her hands slipping to her lap. She watched the soapy water run down her naked thighs. “See me?” she said in a daze. “I can’t see him.”
Ressa lifted the tent flap and called for Varris to bring more water. “Your father has every right to see you. You can’t deny him that.”
Ilyenna swallowed to keep from crying again. “I can’t. I’d have to tell him I’ve shamed him. I can’t bear it.”
Ressa took over washing the dress, her hands sure and strong. “Under the circumstances, I think it best only you and I know your secret, at least until things settle.”
Ilyenna gaped at her. A clan mistress suggesting she break clan law? Varris brought in more water and left again. Ressa tugged the dress out of the soapy water and rinsed it in the fresh tub. “One thing about being a clan mistress as long as I have, I’ve learned that laws are created to protect people. If the law doesn’t protect anyone, it can be bent—or broken all together.”
She handed Ilyenna the soap. “Now clean yourself up. I’ve heard salt water is about as irritating as a dress full of hay.”
Using the cleaner water, Ilyenna reluctantly obeyed, moving in numb routine. When she’d finished braiding her hair, Ressa pulled out another of Varris’s dresses—this one much finer than the last, with embroidery around the hems—and pulled it over Ilyenna’s head. Then she stepped back, inspecting Ilyenna. “Well, I wish we’d had more time to fatten you up, but considering how you looked when you came to us, I suppose it’ll have to do.”
Ressa gripped Ilyenna’s hand and pulled her out of the tent, through the women’s side of the camp, and right up to Gen’s tent. “Husband,” she called. “I’ve come with Ilyenna to see her father.”
“Come inside,” Gen called back.
Casting Ilyenna a look that said she’d better follow, Ressa went in. Ilyenna shifted her weight nervously and glanced around, searching for some kind of escape. Her eyes locked with Rone’s, who was watching her from beside one of the men’s tents with a grim expression.
He might not know about his child, but he knew about their shared shame. He rose to his feet and came to her side. “We’ll face your father together,” he said. He took a step closer and whispered so softly she barely heard him, “But there’s no need to tell him yet. We’ll see what the Council’s verdict is first.”
Both Rone and Ressa were telling her to lie, and Ilyenna didn’t have the courage to tell either of them no, to face the consequences of what she’d done. Nodding, she followed him inside. Ressa raised an eyebrow when she saw them together.
Steeling herself, she forced herself to meet her father’s gaze. She barely recognized him. He’d aged fifteen years since she’d seen him last, the lines on his face cut deeper. Dark circles under his eyes made them appear sunken. His hair and beard were dull and in need of a cut.
He rose shakily from his chair beside the large table. “You look like your mother did after I brought her home,” he choked.
Did she really look as bad as a Raider’s slave?
Like he’d never done before, he gathered Ilyenna in his arms. “I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you, child. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. A father—a father should be able to protect his children.”
She shook her head, her face buried in his shoulder. “You tried.”
“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” He squeezed her and pulled her back. His shoulder was damp—her tears had come back and she hadn’t even noticed. “I want to know what they’ve done to you.”
She shared a glance with Rone before dropping her gaze to the crushed grass that made up the tent floor. “No, you don’t.”
“It can’t be worse than what I’ve imagined,” he replied dully.
Ilyenna closed her eyes. “I can’t, Father. I can’t.”
Rone rested his hand on Otec’s shoulder. “We’ll speak later.”
Ilyenna glanced at Rone in surprise, silently begging him not to tell her father what they’d done. Rone fidgeted under her gaze.
Her father patted her arm awkwardly. “You’re not a soldier. I shouldn’t ask you to act like one.”
Though she doubted he’d meant his words to sting, they hurt all the same. Clearly, he assumed she was too weak. Well, maybe she was.
“The other clanwomen?” he said.
“They’re all alive.” It was the best answer Ilyenna could give. “The Shyle, Father. Why didn’t anyone come to the spring feast?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “We’ve nothing to trade and no one to spare.” He seemed to shrink in on himself. “For five generations our family has kept the Shyle safe. And during my watch, we fall into chaos and despair.”
“Father, I—” she began.
He waved her to silence “Words, Ilyenna—they hold no comfort.” He turned to Gen. “How many clan chiefs have arrived?”
“We’re waiting for four more. Rumor is they’ll be here tomorrow or the day after.”
Otec nodded. “Have you spoken with Rim of the Cardell?”
Gen gestured for them to sit. Ilyenna settled herself next to her father. Before them was an enormous platter of cheese, early strawberries, and crackers. She couldn’t resist taking some. As she ate, she could hear the night’s festivities beginning. The air was already heavy with music, laughter, and the smell of beer.
Gen took a sip of his foamy ale. “He listened, but it’s clear he won’t commit one way or the other without speaking with the other clan chiefs.”
Otec rubbed his face tiredly, his scruff making a scratching noise against his callused palms. “First, the Tyrans will claim that Rone and I have no rights to sit with the Council.”
Gen set his mug down and leaned forward. “The Council will reinstate you. The real worry is how to right Undon’s wrongs without bringing on retribution.”
“Won’t they see their way to war?” Rone asked a little too eagerly.
Gen shook his head. “The Council is full of old men—High Chief Burdin the oldest of us all. And old men don’t like war. They’ll try to avoid it at all costs.”
Rone grumbled an unintelligible reply. Ilyenna suddenly realized she’d eaten every single one of the strawberries. Embarrassed, she clasped her hands to keep from eating everything else. “So what do you think they’ll do?”
Her father sighed.
Gen shrugged. “Try to right things without either side losing more face than they’re willing to give.”
Ilyenna rubbed her eyes tiredly. “And what of the people dead by Tyran hands?”
Gen and her father exchanged glances. “There will be an accounting.” Her father’s words hung heavy with promise.
“What accounting? Nothing’s going to bring them back.” Her throat burned with tears. She took a sip of beer to clear them out.
Ressa came to Ilyenna and gently tugged at her arm. “You men can work out your battle plans without us. Ilyenna and I are going to bed.”