The taller of the men looked up and frowned before saying something to his companion. They both went back to hacking.
Did they not hear her? It was possible. She was pretty high up.
She narrowed her eyes at them. Some of the clans tended not to recognize Shea yet. She wasn’t as well-known as Fallon and hadn’t been with him that long. She thought it more likely they had ignored her.
She debated leaving them to their fate. The old Shea wouldn’t have hesitated. She would have said their death was on their own heads if they chose to ignore her. Actions had consequences. New Shea was willing to give them a bit of reasonable doubt. These were her people if Fallon had his way. She needed to do her best by them even when it was a gigantic pain in the ass.
She grabbed the rope ladder she’d pulled up after her and tossed it over the edge, sending the secondary rope, which was anchored nearby, after it. Gripping the second rope with both hands, she hooked one leg around the thick rope and slid down.
Moments later she reached the forest floor. She released the rope and flexed her hands. They were a bit sore, but she hadn’t gone so fast as to rip skin off, which was a relief. Injuries to the hands, even small ones like rope burn, hurt like hell and made even simple tasks difficult.
She turned to the men. They had given her descent a sideways glance but hadn’t paused in their task.
Shea gave them a polite smile. “As I was trying to tell you earlier, what you’re doing is dangerous. It would be better to get one of the Airabel villagers to spot you. They have a lot more experience with the flora and fauna in this forest and will know if you’re messing with something that should be left alone.”
The men shared a look before continuing with their hacking. Shea took a deep breath then released it slowly. That answered that. They’d definitely been ignoring her earlier. Should she continue to warn them or leave them to it?
She ran a hand through her hair, leaving the half-tamed mess disheveled and sticking up in odd directions.
She studied the plant. It was possible it was harmless. If so, confronting them was pointless and could lead to trouble later. On the other hand, if she let them continue and they managed to disturb a sleeper vine, they might die. Then there would be all these questions and accusations about how she’d failed them.
It was so much easier when she kept her own council and didn’t care about getting along with the people she served.
“Are you really going to ignore me right now?” Shea asked. She pulled a face at her own stupid question. Of course they were.
She could try ordering them to listen, but she had a feeling that would make her feel even more stupid and ineffectual.
“Hey,” she shouted.
“What?” one of the men finally snapped.
“Did you not hear me? You’re hacking away at something that could kill you. Stop until someone can verify this is safe.”
“We got mothers. We don’t need the warlord’s bed warmer telling us how to do our job.”
Shea’s eyebrows rose. She wanted to say the sentiment shocked her, but it didn’t. She was only surprised that it had taken so long for someone to say something. It was a fact of life that people were going to assume what they wanted to.
Had she been someone different, those words might have hurt. Made her question her self-worth and position. The thing was, she’d earned her stripes through blood, sweat and tears. Her friends knew she wasn’t just some pretty face to warm the warlord’s bed. They knew what she was capable of. These men’s words said more about their little minds than it did her.
Though, she did wonder why they weren’t afraid to say such things to her. Most Trateri treated her like fragile glass, fearing word of their disrespect would get back to the warlord. He was not a man you wanted to make angry. She made a note of their clothes and the crest announcing their clan allegiance that decorated their backs. She’d have to investigate which it belonged to. She didn’t think it belonged to any of the ones she knew. Perhaps one of the newcomers?
Shea disregarded the first two things she wanted to say. There were entirely too many curse words and threats in them. After a moment, she disregarded the third response. It was still a little bloodthirsty.
“I know you didn’t show such blatant disrespect to someone who outranks you,” a woman’s voice barked from behind Shea.
The men snapped to attention in a way that was at complete odds with how they’d treated Shea.
Shea turned to find a shorter woman with dark brown hair pulled fiercely back from her face in several interwoven braids. Her amber eyes were flinty and fierce. There were three parallel scars across the line of her jaw. Her gaze flicked to Shea then back to the men.
“Who is your commander? Does he know the disrespect his men show their superiors?”
There was no answer.
“I’m sure Darius Lightheart or Fallon Hawkvale would be happy to personally discuss your lack—at length.”
The men glared at the woman. Shea eyed her as well, surprised at the unexpected interference.
The woman looked familiar. Shea could have sworn she’d seen her before, but she couldn’t have said where or when.
“I don’t speak just for my own amusement,” the woman said in an acerbic voice when the men failed to do more than glare. “Answer.”
“Our commander is Patrick Cloud.”
“Never heard of him,” the woman said. To Shea, “You?”
Shea shook her head. “Not familiar to me either.”
The other man looked impatient to have this over. “We’re out of Dark Cloud under clan Rain. We were told to clear these vines out to make room for sleeping quarters and storage space.”
The woman shot Shea a questioning look. Shea frowned and tilted her head in thought. Clan Rain. Wasn’t that one of the new clans? The ones discussed at the interminable meeting this morning? She looked around the area. This wasn’t either of the places they’d discussed hosting them.
It occurred to her that she should point that out. One look at the sullen faces before her convinced her to let someone else be the barer of bad news. She’d done all she planned on doing.
“We don’t have time to humor a mother hen,” the first man said. “We need this done by midafternoon so they can move some of the supplies in here before it rains again.”
The second man looked at the trees above. “This place seems to have no shortage of rain.”
A vine jerked. It was a small movement, easily missed. Shea’s gaze sharpened. Was that her imagination or did it really move? The vine looked different than the ones the Trateri had been hacking at—some of which were strewn about the ground—the violet two shades darker and edged in white.
It flicked again and then rose. The rest of the vines shifted as if disturbed by a strong breeze. Only there was no breeze. Several of the dark purple vines, thicker and a deeper color than the rest, parted the curtain. They were silent as they snaked across the ground.
“Look out,” Shea shouted.
She darted closer to the men, both of whom were just now realizing the danger they were in. A small vine closed around the tall Trateri’s leg and jerked. He screamed as it dragged him toward the nest of vines.
His friend tried to help, hacking at the rest as they swarmed across the ground to him. Shea drew the short sword Trenton insisted she carry and rushed forward.