Prologue
Charu paced the quarters given to him that morning. The plush surroundings befitted his station as an emissary for the Red Mountain Clan, yet the ornate woodwork of the Green Forest Clan failed to impress him. Each clomp his boots made on the oak floors only increased his anger, causing him to focus more on the time of night than the impending meeting.
The warchief rubbed at his smooth face with an open hand. He cursed, wishing he walked the granite floors of his home in Guaronope. "Do they not know how to work stone at all?"
Melat spoke in her calm tone. "Feruse's walls are made from stone, as are many of their buildings' foundations."
Charu threw up his hands at her. "Yes, and what walls! Barely eight feet. How do they expect to defend something a man could scale without even the use of a ladder?"
Melat shrugged. "I didn't say they were good at working stone. Just that they could do it." One side of her mouth turned up into a lop-sided grin. Instantly, Charu forgot his anger, enthralled by the woman's ever-seductive allure. He drank in her curves and smooth, brown skin. Her smile grew wider. "I know that look. You need to stay focused for when Jolnan arrives."
Charu frowned, remembering the true focal point of his anger. He started pacing again. "He's kept me waiting for over an hour. If we were in Guaronope, it would be different."
"But we aren't," said Melat. "Though it wounds your pride, you need to remember that. We need Jolnan to win over the council." She walked over and placed a hand on his arm.
Charu sighed. After becoming warchief of the Red Mountain Clan, he had planned to invade the Green Forest Clan with his army, and then move on to the other clans until all of Hesh bowed to him. But the Blue Island Clan had acted first.
"You're right," he admitted.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Be strong, but be respectful," said Melat.
"Let him in."
Melat opened the door and Jolnan strode through with chin high. Lamplight danced off his bare scalp. Dark green trousers and a white shirt hung loosely from his thin frame. He wore an odd smile that reminded Charu of someone recalling an old joke.
Jolnan gave a slight bow that Charu begrudgingly returned. "I apologize for my tardiness, Warchief. Duty called."
Charu gestured to a couple of chairs and the two sat across from each other. "Yes, especially in such troubling times."
Melat came over with cups of wine for each. Jolnan's gaze lingered on the woman's figure before accepting the cup.
After a long swallow, Jolnan set his drink down. "So, what did you wish to see me about? It's unusual for a council member to meet in private with an emissary the day before he is to speak before them."
Charu remembered Melat's warning. He set his own cup down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees with hands clasped. "How about we forget the formalities and get right down to it? I know the power you possess among the council and I need your help."
Jolnan raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Despite our differences, the Red Mountain Clan has always held a great deal of respect for the Green Forest Clan," lied Charu. "I hope the feeling is mutual."
Though Jolnan gave a slight nod, Charu noticed the lie it also held.
"Our clans must unite against a common enemy. The Blue Island Clan. They conquer the Orange Desert Clan. They form an alliance with the Gray Marsh Clan. Their warleader mysteriously disappears and his successor, his own brother, kills his father and gains command over the people." He paused. "If not for the change in weather and the mobility of the nomadic Yellow Plain Clan that delayed Tobin's victory over them, I have no doubt his armies would already be on your land."
