I didn’t have to wait long, because he turned and gave me the full focus of his deep green-gold fury. His hand rested close to his knife as he gave a short bark of command to my captor. She released my arm, and I ignored both the pain and the desire to rub the area where she had touched me. Kael stepped in front of me, his face once again devoid of emotion. I had no clue what had been decided, and he obviously wasn’t going to give me any hints.
But then he grabbed my arm and glared angrily at the woman who had just released me. A glare that I had been the recipient of on more than one occasion.
“Are you hurt?” Kael asked. His eyes met mine and then flicked away toward the tall woman again. A second of regret flickered across his face. He continued to watch her as she moved to speak to his brother. I didn’t have to be a genius to figure I had just met Gwen.
“No. I’m fine,” I said stiffly. “Nice family reunion.”
Kael looked back to me and frowned.
We were moving, or rather being forced to walk, down a narrow ledge barely large enough for a horse. Kael walked in front of me, his head held high, though I knew he watched his clan members warily. He was tense. Everyone was tense. My only consolation was that I didn’t have to wear the stupid blindfold again.
But…maybe the reason I didn’t need to wear the blindfold was because I wouldn’t be alive much longer. My stomach plummeted.
I wanted to ask Kael questions, but when we had turned a corner and entered a cave, he shot me a worried glance. All questions died on my lips, and I started to look for an escape route. The cave was only dark for a few hundred feet as it emptied us into a deep large valley. Lush trees and a small winding river filled the oasis. On the far side were towering pagodas, barely discernible against the surprising green when all I had seen for miles was brown and parched. This was it—the hidden camp of the SwordBrothers. We had tracked through barren lands and shale mountains through a land of nothing, where no one wanted to live.
But in the middle of nowhere was life.
From the higher view point, I was able to see the difference in the structure and design of the buildings. Many were large, possibly homes meant to hold more than one family with a central courtyard. They had sliding doors covered in rice paper, which were currently opened. That must be for allowing a cross breeze and battle the heat.
The houses were built in groupings like the one I passed. Banners and flags of yellow and gold waved in the air and along the streets. We turned south down a packed dirt road, and I saw a high stone archway with two swords crossed above it, as if in battle. Through the stone arch, I saw what appeared to be a training arena. Bamboo mats lined the floor and racks of weapons were displayed. I watched with interest as two young men sparred, craning my neck to follow them. But we kept moving.
People heard our group returning and more gathered around to greet them. A few called out to Kael in recognition, but they soon dropped their hand and turned away—when they saw me. Loud whispering and murmurs followed us. We were led into the largest house. Kael stayed close to me, even causing others to step around him, as he patiently waited for me to enter the dwelling.
With Kael by my side I felt secure, so I entered, holding my head high. An old woman sat cross-legged on a mat, a small delicate tea set before her. Her eyes were closed in sleep or deep concentration. She didn’t move a muscle or even acknowledge the gathering now descended upon her.
Kael was the first to kneel before the woman. He bowed his head, touching the floor. Others followed, but I stood there awkwardly, unsure of their customs.
Instead, I focused on the old woman. Her long white hair, braided and draped over one shoulder, was a sharp contrast against the light blue of her wraps. I was fascinated by what looked like a silver sleigh bell attached to the white and gray trim on each of her sleeves.
“Would you like some tea?” She spoke without opening her eyes.
I really didn’t want any tea, but thought it would be impolite to say so.
“Yes, please,” I answered.
Her small arm slid forward out of her sleeve and reached for the handle of the white patterned teapot. She filled the ceramic cup to the brim with green tea, and I wondered how I would drink it without spilling any. I watched the bells on her sleeves. Her movements were not necessarily slow, just very balanced.