“What would you propose we do?” someone asked.

“Has there ever been a gathering of the ten tribes of Rhora where we’ve discussed issues and tried to find a solution?” Shuree nibbled on the cheese.

“Yes, about fifty years ago,” Koke said. “It was a massacre. The khan and spiritual leaders of each tribe were supposed to meet at Lake Tolui, but the Marheg tribe ambushed them and slaughtered them all.”

Shuree felt sick. No wonder the tribes didn’t want to talk. She frowned. “Then how is it we have a good relationship with the Bulgat, Kharil and Horkham people?”

Maidar smiled. “It’s because of the marriages,” she said. “Before the massacre, your great grandfather married his daughters into those tribes. Afterwards their husbands became khans and they became tribal mothers. They arranged trade between us.”

It wasn’t something they could do now. She was the only daughter of the khan and she couldn’t marry into every other tribe. She shuddered.

“The Erseg tribe did something similar,” Koke said. “They have close relationships with the Adhan and Tungat tribes.”

Which left the three most western tribes as unknown. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Don’t like the idea of marrying the enemy?” one of the fletchers asked with a grin.

“There are too many to choose from.” The Erseg warrior who had collected his comrade popped into her head and she shook the memory away. One day soon her father would arrange a marriage for her. He might have already done so if she hadn’t protested against marrying the Bulgat khan’s son. He’d been an opinionated, self-aggrandising man who had fortunately offended her father after the match had been proposed. But perhaps a strategic marriage into one of the other tribes would be wise.

And maybe her father could remarry, take a wife from the Adhan or Tungat tribe, and Amar was yet to marry. That would start the process.

“Perhaps after we defeat them in this battle, the Erseg will be willing to talk,” Maidar suggested.

They’d shown no willingness before, so why should this time be any different? Shuree pushed away her plate, her food barely touched, and stood, despair still her companion. “Thank you for your time, and for your refreshments. I must arrange a replacement guard for Sube.”

She left the tent and strode over to her friend’s place. She wanted a guard who was well trained in fighting. “Vachir, are you home?”

“Come in.”

Shuree entered and found Vachir fletching a new batch of arrows. He had been injured in the raid and she was glad he had been forbidden from the retaliation. He hated fighting. His crooked grin eased some of her worry. “Tribal Mother, how are you?”

She sighed. “I am worried. How is your wound?”

“Bandaged and aching.” He pulled up his top to show the cloth around his stomach.

If the blade had gone much deeper, he would have died and she would have lost the friend who always made her laugh, and her sparring partner. “Are you well enough for guard duty?” she asked.

“The Erseg won’t attack again so soon.”

“No, but Sube is standing guard in case other tribes attack, and he is a little too young to do so.”

Vachir rose. “All right. I’ll take my things out to him. Perhaps he can help me fletch.”

“Thank you.” She helped him carry the equipment over to the boy. “Vachir will help you.”

Sube smiled. “Thank you, Tribal Mother.”

As she walked back through the camp, Badma hurried over to her, still as beautiful as she had been this morning, though worry creased her face. “Shuree, can you teach me how to fight?”

Shuree blinked and gave her friend her full attention. “Why?”

Tears glistened in Badma’s eyes. “I don’t want to be kidnapped during the next raid,” she said. “I saw you fighting, and I want to be able to defend myself and my sisters if the warriors are busy elsewhere.”

It was another way to strengthen her tribe, but there would be many who wouldn’t approve. She had pestered her father for years to learn and had watched all Amar’s training sessions, pinching his training sabre whenever she could so she could practise. Eventually her mother and Yul had convinced her father Shuree would be safer if she learnt the correct techniques, but she’d had to train inside, where no one else could see. Men were supposed to protect their women. “All right. Let me get my weapons. Meet me at the training grounds.”

“Thank you.”

When Shuree arrived at the training grounds a few minutes later, she found a dozen women of all ages waiting for her.

“They all want to learn,” Badma said.

Good. Her father had told her to protect the tribe and fortify the camp. This might not be what he had in mind, but it was time for change. “Let’s get started.”