Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 14.2 Clan Meet

Chief Urlock started the day when the sun had just risen. While most of the vast town of tents slept from the previous night's celebrations Urlock walked with purpose to the tent of the man who presumptuously called himself King.

As if he is the Lord of all clans. Such arrogance.

Yet it could not be denied that he was the most powerful man on The Endless Plains. Leading Khashbal meant he controlled more warriors, and owned more herds, than any other chief - by a large margin. When thinking about who to approach first about Shaleh's hand in marriage, Pim had insisted that they start with the most powerful clan.

He knew that there would be a long line of people wanting to see the man, so he resolved to be first. When he reached the large ornate tent the only other people there were the two warriors who guarded its small flap-door.

"Your name and purpose?" asked one of them.

"I am Chief Urlock of Empa Clan. I come to put a question to King Kirill." How he hated to even use the word King out loud.

"You will have wait."

"So be it."

Waiting was one of the things that living on the Plains made people good at. He merely set his feet a shoulder width apart, straightened his back, raised his chin, and calmly looked forward without meeting the eyes of the warriors in front of him. He had expected to be made to wait, but being first in line meant the wait would be shorter.

As the sun rose, so did signs of life around him. People emerged to fetch water from the river, cooking fires were relit, food was cooked. Urlock's feet and shoulders grew sore from standing in one place for so long, but he was used to minor pain and easily ignored it. A line of other men formed behind him and still no one emerged from the tent. Urlock had expected nothing less than rudeness from a man who called himself 'King'. Finally the small door flap opened and one of the guards told Urlock that he could enter.

He had only exchanged words with Kirill two other times before. Once when they were both youth at a Clan Meet: Kirill had been a clever boy and a fast runner but as he was a few years younger than Urlock they had never competed against each other. In those days Kirill was merely the nephew of the Khashbal Chief. The second time they spoke was some ten or so years ago, shortly after Kirill had become chief himself. At that occasion he was simply one of many chiefs that came to wish the excited new Khashbal chief well. They had spoken only a few words and none of them were memorable. Kirill's rise to being Chief had been a surprise. The exact story of how it had transpired had not reached the Empa Clan, but the rumours ranged from him being chosen by his uncle, the previous Chief, in recognition of his cunning, through to him poisoning his uncle and taking his place. Urlock did not really care what the truth was, but he knew to be careful.

Urlock's eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the tent, and then his mind had to adjust to the changes in Kirill's physical appearance. Ten years ago he had been an eager, trim man with a sword at his side. Now he was extremely generously proportioned, lazing on a cushioned chair next to his short wife, with no weapon in sight.

"What brings you here this morning?"

"King Kirill, my name is Chief Urlock of Empa Clan." A worried frown creased Kirill's forehead and he quickly glanced at his wife who did nothing other than push her needle of yellow thread through the fabric in her hands. "And I come to put a question to you."

"Yes? Go on."

"I have a daughter that has reached marrying age. She is strong, healthy, beautiful, and knows what it is to be in the family of a chief. She will make a perfect wife. I would like to consult with you about finding a husband worthy of her."