"These are my people," you tell Drazha. "Whatever Vanya may have told them, I am still their rightful leader. I know it, they know it, and Vanya…he definitely knows it."
Without another word, you stand and, leading your horse, walk into the camp. The warriors posted around the camp's perimeter don't recognize you at first—you're only wearing the simple tunics you bought from the farrier north of Anselm's Landing, after all—but they do recognize your voice.
"I have returned," you say. "Your chieftain, left behind in Anselm's Landing. I have come to reclaim my tribe and my place at its head."
"But," babbles the nearest warrior, "but you're dead! Vanya will want to hear about this!"
"I'm counting on it," you reply. "Now take me to him."
You allow the warriors to lead you between the rows of yurts, to the stone circle at the camp's center, where a familiar figure is in discussion with a party of your warriors. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Vanya turns to look at you. For an instant, you see confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. Then his jaw drops open, and he takes a hurried step backward.
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