the parapet that ringed the upper section of the wall. A guard waited at the top, keeping the ladder steady. She waved off his hand to assist her, and stepped out on the four-foot-wide catwalk.
“Ohhh, my.” She stared in wide-eyed surprise at what was happening on the other side. There had to be more than twenty tents of all sizes and colors dotting the field. People were hanging ribbons and lanterns between the poles. More people were darting between the tents, Mutah and humans alike. The smell of cooking food drifted up to her, reminding her that midday meal wasn’t too far away.
From her vantage point, Atty could spot six distinct banners from other compounds and Battle Lords. To the far right she spotted West Crestin’s flag, and she smiled. Right behind it was the familiar green flag of Foster City. At the sight of it, she made a note to seek out their old friend, Zane Batuset.
“What was your first impression?” a deep voice asked behind her. Warm hands circled her waist as he embraced her from behind.
“How many more can this area hold?”
Yulen rested a hand over hers where she was holding onto one of the poles for support. “We invited twenty-seven compounds altogether. Twenty-four responded. So far eighteen have shown up.”
“Eighteen? How many of them are Mutah?”
“Six, but there are at least five compounds that might not arrive before the summit begins day after tomorrow.”
“ If they decide to attend.”
He chuckled, agreeing with her.
“Why not hold off until they all arrive?”
“Because I’m not sure they will arrive. Their response was undecided.” He gave a nod in the direction of the tents. “At least the ones that are here are the ones I most needed to attend.”
They watched the frenetic activity for several minutes. Atty leaned against her husband, letting him support her as she felt a weariness slowly creep up on her. He was careful not to touch her back. Instead, he threaded his fingers through her loose hair. Playing with it, along with the spring breeze. His warmth and the gentle rhythm of his breathing soothed her.
“Atty.”
She opened her eyes, unaware that she had started to fall asleep on his chest.
“You need to rest.”
“All right, but answer me this.”
“What?”
They hadn’t moved from where they stood. Moments like this were rare, and in the past few days they had seen little of each other, even after dark. By the time Yulen was able to catch a few hours of sleep, she was already in medicated unconsciousness.
“All this activity. There’s more going on than just a meeting of all the Battle Lords and council of elders, isn’t there?”
For a moment, she would swear he tensed up on her. When he finally answered, it explained why.
“There’s plans for a party. A celebration. Several Battle Lords have decided that this is a momentous occasion, and want to make it a week-long event.”
“So, instead of three days, we’re looking at a week or more?”
“We’re making arrangements,” he assured her, kissing her on top of the head.
“How are we going to feed everyone?”
“That’s already been discussed. Every compound is sending out its best hunters to help gather.”
She motioned toward the distant courtyard. “Will the new area hold everyone?”
“If we need to, we can hold two or three encampments inside the main gates, and perhaps another couple beyond the shops. Don’t worry, Atty. I’ve spoken with every Battle Lord upon arrival and explained the circumstances. They’re as anxious as I am to try and come to some sort of peaceful agreement between the Normals and Mutah, as well as establish trade relations. Yes, there are some hold-outs, and several who feel that what we’re attempting to do is pointless. But the simple fact that they’re here to at least listen to what we propose is a promising step. Now.”
The comforting hand was removed. Atty looked up to see him smiling at her, but there was a serious glint in his
“Ohhh, my.” She stared in wide-eyed surprise at what was happening on the other side. There had to be more than twenty tents of all sizes and colors dotting the field. People were hanging ribbons and lanterns between the poles. More people were darting between the tents, Mutah and humans alike. The smell of cooking food drifted up to her, reminding her that midday meal wasn’t too far away.
From her vantage point, Atty could spot six distinct banners from other compounds and Battle Lords. To the far right she spotted West Crestin’s flag, and she smiled. Right behind it was the familiar green flag of Foster City. At the sight of it, she made a note to seek out their old friend, Zane Batuset.
“What was your first impression?” a deep voice asked behind her. Warm hands circled her waist as he embraced her from behind.
“How many more can this area hold?”
Yulen rested a hand over hers where she was holding onto one of the poles for support. “We invited twenty-seven compounds altogether. Twenty-four responded. So far eighteen have shown up.”
“Eighteen? How many of them are Mutah?”
“Six, but there are at least five compounds that might not arrive before the summit begins day after tomorrow.”
“ If they decide to attend.”
He chuckled, agreeing with her.
“Why not hold off until they all arrive?”
“Because I’m not sure they will arrive. Their response was undecided.” He gave a nod in the direction of the tents. “At least the ones that are here are the ones I most needed to attend.”
They watched the frenetic activity for several minutes. Atty leaned against her husband, letting him support her as she felt a weariness slowly creep up on her. He was careful not to touch her back. Instead, he threaded his fingers through her loose hair. Playing with it, along with the spring breeze. His warmth and the gentle rhythm of his breathing soothed her.
“Atty.”
She opened her eyes, unaware that she had started to fall asleep on his chest.
“You need to rest.”
“All right, but answer me this.”
“What?”
They hadn’t moved from where they stood. Moments like this were rare, and in the past few days they had seen little of each other, even after dark. By the time Yulen was able to catch a few hours of sleep, she was already in medicated unconsciousness.
“All this activity. There’s more going on than just a meeting of all the Battle Lords and council of elders, isn’t there?”
For a moment, she would swear he tensed up on her. When he finally answered, it explained why.
“There’s plans for a party. A celebration. Several Battle Lords have decided that this is a momentous occasion, and want to make it a week-long event.”
“So, instead of three days, we’re looking at a week or more?”
“We’re making arrangements,” he assured her, kissing her on top of the head.
“How are we going to feed everyone?”
“That’s already been discussed. Every compound is sending out its best hunters to help gather.”
She motioned toward the distant courtyard. “Will the new area hold everyone?”
“If we need to, we can hold two or three encampments inside the main gates, and perhaps another couple beyond the shops. Don’t worry, Atty. I’ve spoken with every Battle Lord upon arrival and explained the circumstances. They’re as anxious as I am to try and come to some sort of peaceful agreement between the Normals and Mutah, as well as establish trade relations. Yes, there are some hold-outs, and several who feel that what we’re attempting to do is pointless. But the simple fact that they’re here to at least listen to what we propose is a promising step. Now.”
The comforting hand was removed. Atty looked up to see him smiling at her, but there was a serious glint in his
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