Beng Shai had always known that the path he had chosen would be difficult. That he would never be at peace personally, even if he could manage to bring peace to the borderlands. He had known he would face opposition from his own family and clan, not just from the villages and their long-time enemies in the Camelia. He had known there would be betrayals and failures and many days when he questioned why he chose this path. He had known he would lose friends and loved ones.
He had anticipated all of that.
But perhaps what he had failed to understand was the level of difficulty of his task. The tribes were tired of fighting, especially the Bandri, who'd been fighting the longest and the hardest out of all of them.
But even with that exhaustion, even with the basic understanding that they were going to die out if they kept fighting like this, that every adult in the clan knew, they still insisted on fighting him every step of the way.
When he had a few precious seconds to sit and think about it, he wasn't tired of the task itself, of the work and the sweat, he was tired of talking. Of having to say the same thing over and over again to people he knew had heard him the first time and just didn't care enough to remember.
Or they smiled and nodded and agreed to his face, but none of it was honest.
Were the people of the Camelia the same?
He doubted it. The Camelia, with all its organization, regimented and wrapped in steel, there was no feeling there in that haunted place. Just stones on top of stone on top of stones.
Why would someone build a monstrosity like that? He had no idea. There was nothing that would ever convince Beng Shai to live anywhere but under the wide open sky and the sun. He didn't understand those people who crammed themselves into tiny places where they couldn't even stretch out their arms without running into something and claimed they were happy.
Happiness was a warm sun and rippling fields as far as the eye could see. A bright fire and family close by.
But as much as he didn't understand it, Beng Shai knew that it was too big to be destroyed. They had to learn to live alongside that world, or the tribes would be the ones to perish.
It was frustrating, too. The Lord of the Camelia was Beng Shai's age. They had both fought in the last war, and they had both lost their fathers to this long conflict.
Why then, couldn't he see the necessity of ending this conflict?
It had seemed so promising at first, after that meeting on Traveler's Hill. They were of an age and an understanding, and there had been progress there.
At least, Beng Shai had thought there was.
Then word had come this morning that the Crimson Army was on the march and the central and southern tribes were already under attack. He'd sent what help he could, but the Bandri had been completely unprepared.
Beng Shai had taken the Lord of the Camelia at his word, and his tribe had suffered as a result. His siblings were furious, especially those married to outside clans. Even his mother and grandmothers had expressed their disappointment loudly and at length.
It made him ache for the one who was gone. The wife he'd buried five years ago.
He'd loved her from the moment he'd set eyes on her, and bringing her back to his tribe to join his family had been the greatest day of his life.
They'd only had two short years together and no children to remember her by, but Beng Shai was never going to love another. He still fell asleep to the memory of her dark brown hair and wheat colored eyes, and the way both had gleamed in the firelight.
Their marriage had even united two warring northern clans, with her smaller clan joining the Bandri. Her brother was still one of his best commanders, though her other brother had disappeared years ago, and two of her sisters had married two of Beng Shai's half-siblings.
But she was gone now, the person that was supposed to stand beside Beng Shai and lead his people with him.
Now he was doing it alone.
Lord Ye seemed to have had better luck with his marriage. He'd married a warrior, according to the stories already traveling across the prairie. A powerful, inhuman one. Maybe that was normal in those stone cities, but it wasn't here.
There was no one with power like that among the tribes, and just the idea of her was terrifying. There would be no hope for peace when the Crimson Army had her at the head of it. The other tribes were already too afraid, and Beng Shai could understand. Some power was not meant to be used by men and belonged only to the gods.
His peace was getting further and further away with each day.
"Beng Shai."
The sound of his name startled him, and he turned to find Kai Low, his wife's remaining brother, frowning at him. He was younger than his wife and was terribly handsome according to the women of the Bandri, but he'd shown no interest in marriage or children so far. He kept his brown hair shorter than most, and it most often stuck out wildly in different directions, while the gold of his eyes stuck out against the facial tattoos of the Bandri.
"You're needed in camp." Kai Low said, voice tight and worried. Beng Shai had sent aid to the central tribes, including Bandri forces led by Kai Low. They weren't due back for another day and must have rushed to make it back a day early.
"What's wrong?"
"Just come with me." Kai Low muttered and turned and started back towards the camp without waiting to see if Beng Shai followed.
It spoke to how worried the younger man was about whatever it was that he was so blunt, and it took a lot to make Kai Low, who was a youngest sibling and free of most responsibilities, worry.
~ tbc