Chapter 13
Cosima
I wasn’t quite sure what was making Zsekhet worried, except maybe the prospect of morning sickness. I wanted to start assuring him that I’d be fine either way and that I wasn’t even pregnant right now, but a noise outside our door stopped me.
Springing into action, Zsekhet was next to the doorway, half crouched because of the low ceiling, and a pair of daggers in his hands.
I didn’t have any weapon of my own, so I made sure to quickly grab our things together and sling the satchel over my shoulder.
If we were getting fetched to see this King, we might not be returning to this little hut.
The scrape of something heavy being removed was loud, which made me realize that it had been oddly quiet out in the big cave for a while.
Before, the babble of voices, animals, and craftsmen at work created a loud din.
But it was quiet now, as if everyone had left.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
When the door opened, the light of many campfires still glowed around the cavern, but it was darker than before.
The male Naga that had opened the door was the same one as before, a guy with a hint of orange at the edges of his scales, and starburst bright orange eyes.
He was accompanied by half a dozen more warriors but they were hovering further back.
If I wasn’t mistaken, the expressions on their faces were a combination of fear and disgust. Yikes, now I knew how Naomi had felt when she’d been hauled through this cave.
“The King is ready to see you,” the orange-hued male said.
Though calling him orange wasn’t right, he was still predominantly red, it was just that he stood out among the crowd with those bright edges.
Hadn’t Naomi and Krashe had dealings with a male with his coloring out in the wasteland with the creepy robots beyond this mountain? I wondered if it was the same guy.
“Then we shall go,” Zsekhet said with a friendly grin.
His hands were already empty, but I hadn’t even seen him move to put away his daggers.
It wasn’t until I moved closer to him and Zsekhet curled his arm around my shoulder when we stepped out of the hut that I realized that I’d understood that orange guy while I wasn’t touching Zsekhet.
Oh, right. I’d forgotten that mating with a Naga meant you could suddenly understand their language, even when not touching. Vera said they called it a spirit connection but she couldn’t explain how it worked. We hadn’t thought to ask the Shaman, maybe he knew.
I kept my eyes wide open as we walked through the warren of little paths behind the orange male.
A whole array of spears was pointed at our backs, hostility pumping off our guards in waves.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, unease making my stomach clench.
I really didn’t like this situation but hopefully, that King would resolve it all.
I still figured that the fact that we hadn’t been killed on sight was a good sign.
The large round gathering place we reached was as empty as the paths we’d traversed.
Across from us stood a large wooden building that drew the eye from every direction.
It had a sloped roof of gleaming purple wood, and sculptures had been carved into the ends of the beams that supported it.
A double set of doors gaped open at the front, allowing us to glance into the dark interior.
I saw nothing but shadows and then with a lurch, I noticed a rust-brown smear along the edge of the door. Was that blood?
Our guide turned us to the left, angling us not towards that big building, but a small hut closer by.
That big building had to be an important place like a palace or a temple but the King was not there, like I expected.
The hut he was in was almost a hovel, with mud walls and a low ceiling.
There was no ornamentation and only a single lantern for light.
The King himself was also nothing like I expected.
A Naga small of stature with dull, dark red scales partially covered by a boring brown robe.
The brightest splash of color was in the scarlet sash he’d tied around his robe to keep it closed.
His black hair was in a tight braid, slick with oil or wax so not a hair was out of place around his stern features.
When he smiled at our entrance, he showed us that the top row of his teeth and fangs were missing, just an empty black gap.
I knew who this was; Naomi had described him to me in detail.
Aser, the right-hand man of Krashe, back when he’d been Warlord to the Bitter Storm Clan.
He’d also been the Naga that had led a group of warriors to our very door a few months ago, only for them to settle on an uneasy truce for now.
This was the male that Krashe supposedly had contact with from time to time, to debate how to solve Bitter Storm’s famine.
“Welcome to my humble home,” the male said in an ingratiating manner.
My skin prickled. This guy was bad news, really bad news.
For the first time since we’d been caught by these Bitter Storm warriors did real fear sing through me.
Until now, I’d had complete faith that we’d somehow make it out of here, that this truce would hold.
Meeting this King made me realize that we might not be getting the outcome we hoped for.
Zsekhet’s arm tightened around my shoulder as he ducked us into a slight bow in greeting.
“Thank you, Sir, for the kind hospitality.” I wanted to snort at how silly that sounded but I understood that Zsekhet was playing the game this Aser wanted to play.
What better person than a spy to negotiate our release?
We were ushered further inside and Zsekhet was forced to lower himself on his tail or risk getting his horns stuck in the roof.
The King was sitting on the dirt floor, which wasn’t even covered in flagstones like our previous abode had been.
I didn’t much feel like joining him there even though that did seem like the polite thing to do.
Thankfully, Zsekhet didn’t seem inclined to do so either.
“It’s no problem,” Aser drawled with a thick lisp, probably greatly exaggerated by his missing teeth. “You must have been terribly turned around in those tunnels down there. But no worry. You will be free to leave this cavern in a moment.”
That sounded promising, what was the catch?
Was he going to set us loose in the tunnels again, with no hope of ever finding our way out?
The orange-hued male was hovering nearby, the only male that had entered the little hut with us.
His expression was so grim that I did not dare to hope even a little that those words meant actual freedom.
“You are too kind. Thank you for honoring the truce you made with Outcast Haven.” Zsekhet dipped his head in thanks, his gold eyes like lasers, sharp and cunning as he appraised the King.
It had to be baffling to him to discover that a male had taken over the rule of this Clan.
I found it a little strange too but far less surprising.
All Clans as far as I knew were ruled by a Queen, and even, as in the case of Serqethos, when a Queen was killed, they let a female mature rather than let a male lead.
Aser narrowed his dark red eyes and cocked his head, his long black braid barely moving across his shoulder; stiff from whatever he’d put in it to make it look that slick.
“Ah, yes. We are very grateful for the instructions on how to make fields on the mountain to grow food. As we are grateful for the offer of meats in exchange for ores from our home.”
I didn’t know that those were the details Krashe had hammered out with this guy.
What did we need ore for at Haven? Was that all to help build new things?
The greenhouse even? But I felt a hint of excitement, if we could refine metals for metalworking, we could improve many things.
Like better arrows for bows to start off small.
We could make nails and hinges to improve the buildings that were going up outside of the Haven caves. The drying shed and the wall and gate for instance could be reinforced if we had such tools. I was almost salivating at the thought of being able to make a proper hammer.
None of that would happen if this Aser was as conniving and manipulative as I thought he was.
Krashe cared about feeding the young from his former Clan, he’d have given the plans to make terraces for food growing with or without something in return.
I had a feeling this Aser knew that and was taking full advantage.
Zsekhet nodded, “Yes, a good relationship between our peoples can be good for all of us. Our friends are already searching for us, they know where we went into the tunnels.” I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but Zsekhet had brought supplies with him that had come from the Shaman, so at least one person knew.
“As you know, Krashe is an excellent tracker underground. He will have already found our trail.” Zsekhet’s voice held just enough of a hint of warning to get the message across.
He was letting this Aser know that if he didn’t let us go, bad things could happen to that trade relationship or more.
Telling in no uncertain terms that our friends knew exactly where we were.
“So he is,” Aser nodded, “No need to explain that to me. I am aware of the complete situation.” He gestured with a hand and from behind me a hand shot out, grabbing hold of the strap of the satchel.
Zsekhet growled, a dagger swirling between his fingers which he lashed out toward the offender.
I fought for a moment to hold on to the satchel but it ripped from my grasp as the male ducked out of Zsekhet’s way.