Nurlan buckled his scabbard tightly around his waist and inspected his reflection in a round piece of polished bronze.

"Why do you think Chumerra is calling you and the other senior warriors together?" Shaleh asked

"Defensive strategy, or raiding plans. Why else could it be?"

"I don't trust her," said Shaleh. "I don't like her."

"Neither do I, but I still have to go."

"Can I come?" Shaleh knew the answer but asked anyway. In the Empa Clan her father always allowed her to attend the raiding party gatherings.

"No," he smiled kindly. "You haven't been in our clan long enough, and you aren't one of the leaders of the raiding parties." He crossed over to her and kissed her on the forehead.

It still felt strange to have him so close but she was getting used to it.

"I will return shortly. You could visit my cousin's family if you get bored," he suggested.

After he left Shaleh counted to one hundred before picking up a bucket and stepping quietly out of the tent and into the cloud-covered moonlight. The bucket was part of the deception. If anyone asked she could say she was fetching water. She checked that Nurlan was out of sight. She felt a twinge of guilt that she was hiding from Nurlan what she was about to do, but she had to hear firsthand what was going on in the meeting. She had an ominous sense of dread that Chumerra was plotting something.

Shaleh slipped into the shadows behind the neighboring tent and quietly walked towards the sprawling stone building. She circled around the back of the building and crouched behind a tree. A solitary warrior was on guard. He hummed a familiar love song as he glanced aimlessly around. Peeking around the trunk, Shaleh surveyed the back of the building. There were only two options for gaining entry: the solid looking wooden back door, and a small window off to the side of the building that was slightly above her head height.

That looks too high to enter easily. The door it is, then.

After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality only five or so minutes, the warrior took a final look around the area and walked around the corner of the building. He was out of sight, but for how long? Shaleh grabbed her bucket and quietly padded over to the door. She quietly turned the handle but it refused to budge.

Locked.

Cursing silently to herself she ran over to the window. It was a simple open cavity in the clumsily constructed stone wall. The square opening was about the height and width of her shoulders. Faint yellow flickering light came from inside. She closed her eyes to focus on her hearing. She could hear nothing from inside the window.

She placed the bucket upside down under the window and stood on it. It held her weight. Barely. The extra height made all the difference. With a quiet exertion she pulled her eyes carefully over the lip of the window. The room was long and rectangular. Light from a flickering lantern hanging halfway along on the wall glinted off of a row of large prison cages. She could not see anyone inside. She lowered herself to the bucket to prepare herself. Looking around outside there was still no one visible but she could faintly hear the sound of the humming guard.

He must be returning.

She pulled herself up and was almost in when she realised the flaw - her bucket. Sitting upturned under the window was a clear giveaway. She lowered herself partway down and with the tip of her foot pushed it over. It rolled away.

The humming was getting louder.

She pulled herself up but her shoulders and arms were already tired. Thankfully the stone wall was full of footholds. She scrambled towards the opening.

The approaching guard was close enough that she could hear his footfalls from around the corner.

"Shh!" she heard from inside the window. She only barely suppressed a cry of surprise as a face of a middle-aged man appeared before her from inside the room. He grabbed her arms and pulled. With his help she squeezed through the opening and collapsed on the dirt floor beneath it.

The middle-aged man put a finger to his lips to indicate silence. He quietly moved to a cage that was adorned with surprisingly fine furniture and walked inside, closing the door behind himself. She flattened herself against the wall and listened. The humming outside stopped and she heard the faint sound of wood scraping on dirt.

"Lord Danat," the warrior called out, "have you heard anything unusual?"

"Like what?" the middle-aged man called back.

"I don't know. Anything. I just found a bucket laying on the ground out here. It wasn't here before."

"If you are thinking I put it there, I am sorry to disappoint you, I am in my cage."

"I know it's not you. Did you hear anyone pass this way?"

"People pass the building all the time. If you are worried that an enemy army has snuck up to invade us and have left behind a bucket you can rest easy. I heard no such army."

The guard chuckled softly. "A bucket wielding invasion would be a sight to see. Well, I wonder where it came from." In the distance Shaleh heard the sound of her bucket bouncing off the ground. Footsteps receded into the distance.

"Thank you," Shaleh whispered to the man in the cage. He was handsome for his age despite looking thin and wan. "Why help me?"

"I have so little to amuse me in here. Believe it or not it is rare that young women sneak in to see me." He smiled and put his hand to his chest and bent his torso in a respectful bow. Despite her pounding heart and nerves a smile sprang to her face.

"Please don't tell anyone I was here," she pleaded. There was something about his bearing she trusted. As she padded towards the door leading out of the room it struck her that there was something familiar about him. She cast one last curious glance at him. He smiled at her.

"Have we met before?" she whispered across the room.

He shook his head in denial. "I would have remembered."

"Curious."

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway beyond. Somewhere before her she could faintly hear the sounds of conversation. It was not difficult for her to follow them towards the throne room. The rest of the building seemed deserted. She found herself in front of a closed wooden door. The sound of voices and weak shafts of light leaked out of gaps in the wood. She carefully pressed an eye to the largest crack. Chumerra was in the centre of the throne room pacing a circle. Around her sat twenty or so of Khashbal's elite warriors. Nurlan sat with his back to Shaleh.

"...will join us or perish," Chumerra was saying. Yet again the woman looked a little taller, less bent over, to Shaleh's eyes. The dim flickering light was flattering to her, it made her seem less wrinkled.

"Too long have we been a small people, a petty people," she said with passion. A number of the warriors around the circle shifted uncomfortably at her insult of her own clan. "We scrap among ourselves like children, making each other weak but achieving nothing. Meanwhile, the Morcham to the west, and the great empires to the east, grow stronger each year. How long will it be before they look to us? We would be so easy for them to plunder. If they wished it they could wipe us out or enslave us in a single season. Our homes burnt, our horses stolen, our proud history ground into the dirt - this is the path that I see before us if we keep to our primitive ways." Some of the men nodded in agreement but an equal share frowned and looked sideways at each other.

She stopped her pacing and glared around the circle. "Do some of you disagree with my assessment? Or perhaps my authority to rule here?"

When no one spoke she continued. "We must gather all the clans of the plains under our banner. The time of small chiefs and smaller squabbles is over. The people of The Endless Plains can never be strong while we are constantly fighting amongst ourselves. But forged together, under a single mighty chief we can be a powerful force, a force to fear and respect throughout the world."

"Are you saying that you are that mighty chief?" Shaleh heard one of the men say. She did not recognise the voice or see who spoke.

"Yes." Chumerra answered simply. "I am the only hope for our people."

The arrogance of the claim visibly shocked many of the battle scarred men that surrounded her. Eyebrows raised on some while others frowned and glared. She seemed unconcerned, in fact she smiled broadly.

"You have no qualifications to lead us," proclaimed a man as he stood and took a step towards Chumerra. Shaleh could tell from his voice that it was the same warrior who spoke moments ago. He was a powerhouse of a man - strong, broad and grim. "I was away from Khashbal and the Clan Meet when you took the role of chieftain for yourself. I was doing what any of these men and women do willingly: patrolling our lands to keep our people safe. I have led our people into battle countless times and won many glories for our clan. If I had been here when you made your claim as chieftain I would have denied your claim. You have none of the knowledge or experience that I, or any of these men and women, have. I am sorry to speak so plainly to you. You stood by King Kirill for many years, but you are not fit to lead us."

"And you are?" she asked quietly. A thin smile curled the edges of her lips.

"Yes."

"Then challenge me."

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-Y. V. Qualls