With the slaver pit buried, their goods scavenged, and the camp dismantled, the Sentry force put torch to what remained. Flames consumed everything, and when the embers died, they raked the ashes deep into the soil.
By late afternoon, the Swiftwind caravan appeared on the horizon — a slow, steady column trailing a cloud of dust from the east. Dem waited while Telo stood before the Sentry force, who were formed in a tight, disciplined line.
"Our first action as a Sentry force went off without a hitch," Telo announced. "A few minor injuries, but we removed the slaver presence and freed a large number of innocents taken from their homes."
Dem pounded the haft of his spear twice against a rock. The sharp, echoing cracks drew glances, but he simply motioned for Telo to continue.
"For most of us, this was our first real conflict. The spears have been bloodied, and the arrows loosed."
Dem struck the stone again — two hard slams. A clear, almost ritualized gesture.
Telo nodded subtly. "I, for one, am proud of our result."
This time, when Dem slammed his spear down, a dozen others joined in — a sudden thunderclap of wood and metal that reverberated through the clearing.
Telo grinned. "This will be our way. Continue training. Those from Swiftwind — help your families settle before returning to duty. Dismissed."
Every spear slammed down in unison, ending the assembly with a roar.
Dem picked an area for his family's tent and began clearing it — tossing aside deadfalls, rolling rocks to the side, pulling up old brush and dry vegetation. He sensed Reyka before she spoke, the faint step and scent of jasmine giving her away.
"We found a usable wagon in the slaver camp," Reyka said as she approached, carrying a short brush blade in one hand. "And a few draft horses mixed in with their riding stock. The Sentry area is cleared out. Should we start preparing for supply routes?"
Dem shook his head. "Swiftwind will do the first supply run after they settle. We'll go with them, use the wagon to transport the injured to town."
"Tahoma, right? Nearly a day's ride." Reyka set to work at his side, chopping brush and branches he had already loosened.
Reyka worked steadily beside him, sweat beading on her brow, a few pale strands escaping her tight braid. She spoke without looking up.
"I was scared."
"Me too," Dem said with an easy smile, dragging a rake through the dirt to level the tent plot. He'd found it among the slavers' farm tools and put it to good use.
Reyka froze mid-swing. "You were?"
"Of course. Anything can happen in a fight — a stray arrow, a trap you didn't notice, or just carelessness. And as a force, we're still inexperienced."
Reyka wiped her brow on her sleeve. "Is that why you took out their commander?"
Dem grinned, ducking his head. "Got me figured out?"
He didn't answer the question, but Reyka studied him with an expression that was both guarded and searching.
"Your dosu doesn't like me," she said quietly.
Dem nodded. Ai and Tam could barely say Reyka's name without looking like they'd bitten into something sour.
"In the past…" Reyka hesitated. "I've been too willful. I walked over people when I wanted something."
A faint blush rose on her cheeks — remembering, no doubt, the knife fight where Dem had taken both her and Tier Whitehill apart with embarrassing ease.
"It may not matter, but… I'll apologize to Ai. And Tam."
"Growth is a beautiful thing," Dem said with a small smile.
Reyka's blue eyes narrowed, her blush deepening. "Are you teasing me?"
"No," Dem replied. "It's something the missionaries in Thaigmaal used to say."
He pulled out a small flask of highberry, took a long drink, and passed it to her.
Reyka laughed — a soft, pleasant sound like wind through leaves. "A street rat went to see missionaries?"
Dem nodded. "Twice a week. They'd give a loaf of bread to anyone who sat through their lessons."
Reyka leaned in, genuine curiosity on her face. "Religion classes?"
"Reading, math. Sometimes history." Dem shrugged. "I used to sneak away from my group to attend."
Reyka's voice gentled. "The ones you mentioned before? Brim and the twins?"
"You remembered," Dem said quietly. He paused before continuing. "They'd rob the bread from the other street kids who went. Brim would get angry if he caught me with them."
Reyka reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder — warm, steady. "Let's change the subject," she murmured. "Tell me again how beautiful I am."
Dem barked a laugh. "I never said that."
"Did." Reyka flicked her hair dramatically before breaking into laughter with him.
A short while later, the Swiftwind caravan arrived. Dem met with the Clan Chief and Huntmaster Dern before the clansfolk dispersed to begin setting up camp. He briefed them quickly on the location and the Sentry force's recent operation.
Huntmaster Dern's face split with a pleased grin. "Good that we didn't have to deal with this ourselves." He clapped a hand on Dem's shoulder. "Now that we're settled, I'll continue teaching you the spear."
"Of course, Huntmaster."
Dem followed Clan Chief Revan's gaze toward the river. "You're thinking something?"
Revan nodded. "This is the easiest river crossing for miles in either direction. Even then, it's risky for mounts."
Dern snorted. "Last time we crossed here, old man Noxil nearly drowned."
Revan studied the three river barges pulled up on the bank. "When we run supplies to Tahoma, let's buy strong rope. With pulleys, rope, and two of those barges, we can build a proper crossing."
Dem considered it. It would bring travelers — and coin — but also attention. "We'll shift the Sentry camp toward that area. That way you won't need to maintain a crossing watch yourselves."
"I meant to bring up security," Revan continued. Typically, clans kept two night watches — one for the herds, one for the perimeter.
"The Sentry force will handle perimeter watch," Dem said. "Swiftwind keeps watch on the herds. If we're called away, you'll need to resume both."
Revan nodded, satisfied.
"Dem!"
Yada and Gram waited until the two leaders moved on before approaching.
Yada immediately pulled him into a hug, patting his arms and head, checking him over as if expecting hidden wounds. "Were you hurt? Are you eating properly?"
Dem smiled. "No, and yes."
Gram's wrinkled face softened. "Don't coddle him so much, Yada."
"I've cleared a spot for our tent," Dem said, accepting one last squeeze before leading them. "Not much left but putting it up."
They followed him to the clearing, both nodding approval. Close to water. Sheltered by tall trees. On the outskirts for peace and quiet. Perfect.
On the far side of camp, the stables and herd barriers were being set up. Ai and Tam rode side by side, trailing two hundred cattle.
Ai's long hair was tied back in a bouncing ponytail. Her tanned face twisted in frustration.
"Why did I get herd duty today? I haven't seen my dasai in days! What if something happened?"
Tam shook her head, amused. Growing up without a dasai herself, she found Ai's sudden overprotectiveness endlessly entertaining. "Isn't Dem the best dasai? Don't worry so much."
"He is," Ai admitted… then stiffened, her face collapsing into a scowl as Reyka approached.
"What do you want, Frostridge?"
Reyka softened her posture — no swagger, no smirk.
"Tam… you were outstanding in this year's archery competition. Even though I tried my hardest, you still beat me. Thank you for pushing me to my best every year."
She bowed her head slightly.
"I apologize for not expressing my admiration properly."
Tam and Ai froze. Completely.
Reyka turned to Ai next.
"Ai… I wanted to say I'm sorry for my past behavior. Please accept my sincere apology. I will do better."
She bowed again, then walked away without another word.
Ai made a tiny strangled noise.
"…."
Tam blinked hard, tapping the side of her head like trying to shake water out of her ear. "Did… did that just happen?"
"We must be dreaming," Ai whispered, staring after Reyka as if she'd just witnessed a ghost apologize.