On another level, he realized he had feared exactly that reaction. Would the rest of the villagers react the same way? He considered turning around and going home to Xona, but instead stood his ground and tried to make small talk. He’d never been in such a position before, but Ira had always taught him that politeness could smooth any situation. He wiped his shaking hands on his pants and inhaled through his teeth.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I understand our families have been close friends for several generations. I hope we can continue that tradition.”
“Pleased as well, I’m sure.” Ahren’s voice dripped ice, and Aibek wondered again what he’d done to offend her so quickly.
Finally, Faruz found his voice. “Ahren, a lovely name for a very lovely lady. I’m terribly pleased to have made your acquaintance.” He bowed over her hand. He either hadn’t noticed the tension in her meeting with Aibek, or he chose to ignore it.
She frowned. “Umm…pleased to meet you…sir? I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”
“I'm Faruz. Aibek and I have been friends since we were knee-high.” He hitched a thumb at Aibek, “and I couldn’t let him run off for such a fantastic adventure without me.” He grinned at Ahren, and Aibek thought she almost smiled back at him before she turned away.
“And we’re very glad you came along, Faruz,” Valasa boomed. “Come along, and we’ll get you all settled in your rooms so you can get washed up for dinner.”
His powerful voice startled Aibek, and he jerked his head back toward their host. The man called Valasa smiled and gestured for him and his friends to follow. They trailed after him as he led the travelers down the main thoroughfare to his home. He stopped several times to introduce the group to passersby, and Aibek realized the whole procession generated a great deal of interest among the villagers.
All of the older citizens gave a warm welcome to Serik and his companions, and most of the younger ones were intrigued by the entire entourage. Only a few showed any hesitation in welcoming the newcomers.
Aibek tried hard to remember everyone’s name but feared it was impossible. He would no doubt have to ask them all again when they next met.
How long will it take before I feel at home here? Not long, I hope.
Right then, he felt like a creature on display in the traveling zoo that sometimes visited Xona. All through the village, people stopped and stared as they passed. Several of the villagers they met commented that he looked like his father, which he found odd but gratifying. No one had ever mentioned any resemblance before, even though his father's brother had raised him.
As they walked through the village, Aibek realized they stood out among the crowd and didn’t look as if they belonged there. For one thing, the difference in clothing was evident to all and delineated the group as outsiders more clearly than anything else could.
The travelers wore loose linen shirts with brown leather breeches tucked into knee-high, black leather boots that were practical for walking long distances. None of the villagers wore anything made of leather or linen; they all wore clothing made of some fabric Aibek had never seen before, soft and flowing, which shimmered slightly in the sun-dappled lighting of the tree-top community.
The men wore loose pants of various colors that came all the way to their ankles with closely tailored shirts in a complementary color. They wore odd-looking slippers on their feet that could have been the same unusual fabric. Aibek wondered if they had heavier shoes, or even boots, for those times when they left the smooth wood of the boardwalks and ventured into the forest below. Some of the women wore pants similar to the men’s, while others wore long flowing dresses made of the same material, accented with lace and ribbons.
* * *
Faruz realized as he walked that he’d listened to Serik’s stories of the village without believing they could be true. He trailed behind their guide as they moved along the boardwalks, his eyes wide, staring at everything around him. This was the kind of place where fairytales happened. Twice, he walked into Aibek’s back when the entourage stopped, smacking his nose against his best friend’s sweaty neck. He couldn’t help it. He’d looked at Serik’s or Aibek’s back for the past twenty days—he was sick of that view. Plus, he’d never seen anything like this village. He’d never even heard stories of places like this. It was hard to believe it was real, though it was there in front of his face. He smiled, happy he’d come along. There was no way he would have wanted to miss this.
“Here we are.” Valasa gestured as they stopped in front of the largest home they’d seen. The building was enormous by Xona standards, though only a little larger than the houses surrounding it in the trees. A simple design in shades of green stone decorated the front of the building, shining like diamonds in the golden light of the sun. There were very few branches above them, so the house was fully illuminated by the bright afternoon sun. Faruz blinked furiously in the sudden brilliance and struggled to make out the details on the exterior of the home.
Before he could determine anything more than the pale green color and a vague geometric pattern, Valasa led them through the door and into the main rooms of the house. He continued up two levels of stairs and to a group of rooms clustered together on the third floor just above the staircase.
“You should all be comfortable enough here.” Valasa showed them into their respective rooms. “You’ll have to give us a little time to prepare a room for you, Faruz since we weren’t expecting you.”
He started to turn to Serik, then whipped his head back to Faruz. “But don’t let that bother you a bit; we have plenty of room and are extremely pleased to have you.” He walked a couple of steps farther down the hall and added, “We’ll eat in about two hours, so you all have some time to rest and wash up from your travels. Serik, your room is across the hall here, and it’s all set up for a nice soaking bath for you.”
Faruz blushed and ducked his head. “You don't need to go to all the trouble of preparing another room.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I can easily share with Aibek, really. We’ve been sharing space since we were infants.” Embarrassment heated his face. He hadn't been invited and didn't want to make more work for anyone.
“I wouldn’t hear of it. Your room will be ready in an hour or less, I’d wager since my wife has already started preparing it. I sent Ahren ahead earlier to tell the others we were on our way. Don’t worry about a thing, you’re very welcome here, and we’ll see to your comfort while you stay with us.”
Valasa didn’t seem to possess a normal speaking voice. His volume was overwhelming in the small space of the hallway, even with the bedroom doors open.
* * *
Aibek waited while Faruz thanked their host several times and ushered him into the room that Valasa had said was his. As he closed the door and looked around the room, awe muted him once again. The chamber was large and beautifully decorated without being fussy or ostentatious. The four-poster bed was hung with simple but heavy burgundy drapes tied back at the corners. It was at least twice the size of the bed he’d shared with Faruz at the inn only the night before. A mountain of pillows beckoned, and a thick golden quilt folded neatly atop the fluffy mattress promised warmth.
To the right of the bedroom was a small sitting room furnished with cozy-looking chairs and two matching tables carved to look identical to the railing of the boardwalk. It had a separate door that led into the hallway.
A soft mossy carpet covered the floor. It felt like heaven under his bare feet. Aibek and Faruz had both removed their boots at the door—it felt disrespectful to trample such a lovely room in booted feet. Aibek sank into the well-cushioned chair by the empty fireplace. The rich brown chair was covered in what looked like the same fabric the villagers wore. It was incredibly soft and felt luxurious under his hand.
“What is this fabric I keep seeing everywhere?” Aibek wondered aloud.
“Who cares about the fabric? We’re to live like kings here! I�
�ve never been in such a beautiful room before. This entire place is like heaven! And you were going to leave me behind. Why didn’t you tell me Nivaka was this lovely?”
“I haven’t been here since I was a baby, and I didn’t expect it to be like this, either. Come sit and we can relax for a bit before we figure out how to blend in at dinner,” Aibek mumbled, already drifting to sleep in the chair.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired?” Faruz shouted. “How could you possibly sleep right now? First, we have to find some clothes. You’re right, we need to blend in if we want to get to know everyone. Then, we both need to wash up and come up with a game plan for dinner. This whole place is totally unbelievable.”
Faruz babbled on, uninterrupted, while Aibek tried to stay awake in the chair.
Aibek thought he used too many superlatives but tried to tune out his overly enthusiastic companion. The hard traveling of the day combined with the sleepless night was too much for him.
Faruz chattered on and on about everything they had seen, finally catching Aibek’s attention when he exclaimed, “…and all the houses have fireplaces! I even smelled bread and sweets baking when we walked through town. I never expected there to be fires burning in the trees! I figured we’d be living on cold fruit and maybe bugs or birds or frogs from here on in, but the food smelled incredible. I can’t wait to see what they serve for dinner.”
The smoke coming from several chimneys in town had caught Aibek’s attention, too. Even that bedroom had its own fireplace. Were these people not worried that the entire village could catch fire and burn to the ground? After all, all of it was made of wood.
5
Welcome
After a brief moment, a servant boy came and led Faruz to his room. Aibek thought he would have a little time for a quick nap; however, the instant his friend left the room, a group of ladies entered carrying buckets of steaming water. They filled the tub in the small dressing room attached to the bedroom and arranged towels, a washcloth, and a bar of soap near the tub. As they were leaving the room, one maid pointed to a thick red pull rope tied to a ring in the corner and told him to ring when he finished so they could remove the water.
The soaking bath felt heavenly and eased his aching muscles. Hiking the hills, climbing over downed trees and stepping over large roots had left him sore, even in his excellent physical condition. He cocked his head and wondered how Serik was doing after their travels. The old man would surely be feeling it more acutely than he.
Aibek soaked until the water cooled, scrubbed himself from head to toe, and stepped out of the tub. For a moment, he felt guilty about the water dripping onto the thick green rug beneath his feet. He shrugged off the feeling and wrapped himself securely in the fluffy towel.
What am I supposed to put on now?
He had brought only two other sets of clothes, and they were nearly identical to what they wore when they arrived. He hadn’t thought of this when he was packing in Xona. He wished he had at least brought along one of his school uniforms; they were more formal and stylish than his plain traveling clothes.
His eyes scanned the room and arrested on a narrow door at the far end of the small room. Holding his towel around his waist, he crossed the smooth wooden floor to investigate. He hesitated when he reached the door.
Would he be trespassing if he looked inside? It felt odd to be a guest in a stranger’s home; he’d only stayed with family and friends before this journey, and had never needed to look for clothing in their homes. He stood before the door and stared at the wavy patterns in the smooth golden wood as he tried to determine the best course of action. Twice, he nearly left the dressing room for his knapsack. Both times, he remembered how he had felt during the afternoon's march through the town in his old clothes.
After a long while, Aibek shrugged. Noral had always told him to be bold and decisive.
What's the worst that can happen? Maybe it's a broom closet, but maybe it's storage for some of Valasa’s old clothes.
They’d be too big, but better than anything Aibek had with him. He tried the knob. It turned easily in his hand. When he pulled it open, the hinges protested with a soft squeak. It smelled like fresh flowers, not musty as he’d expected. Inside was a well-stocked wardrobe. He stood there for a long while, looking through the clothing and debating with himself whether he had the right to try something on.
Why am I so indecisive?
Noral had often scolded him for his hesitancy. He ran a hand through his hair and realized it was dry. How long had he been standing here? The door behind him whispered open, and he turned to see Serik silhouetted in the bright light from the bedroom.
“Well, go on then,” Serik shook his head. “You need to get dressed - unless you plan to go to dinner in your towel, sir. And I’m quite certain they have something special planned for this evening, so dress accordingly.” Serik was dressed as the villagers had been, in flowing garments of that same shimmery fabric.
The wardrobe contained clothing in every color and size, ranging from some tiny enough to fit a small child to others that would be too large even for their enormous host.
Aibek rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers. “What are these made of? And what do you mean they have something planned? I have no idea what’s considered appropriate.”
A hint of his anxiety leaked through in his questions, and his oldest friend smiled.
“This? It’s called zontrec.” Serik ran his hand over a shirt he had just pulled out of the wardrobe. “It’s made from the leaves of the shadow trees, the big whitish trees that support and surround Nivaka. When the leaves fall, or are blown down in a storm, they are gathered, washed, spun, and made into fabric for clothing and household goods.”
“With all the trees around, it must be a huge job to collect the leaves in the autumn. What if someone needs some new clothes and there are none on the ground? Do they pick some leaves?” Aibek continued to peer into the narrow closet.
Serik squeezed in next to him and hunted through the tightly packed clothing. “No, we never do anything to hurt the trees. We wait for the leaves to fall.” He spoke around the pile of shirts in his arms. The stack of garments swayed as he moved his head to talk.
“We keep a stock of leaves and fabric in storehouses near the outer edge of town. It’s the same with gathering wood: when a tree dies or gets struck by lightning, the wood is harvested and stored for repairs to the village boardwalks or buildings, and we plant a new tree in the same place.” He draped another shirt over his arm and continued. “The sap coats the wood and hardens as it cures. It's what makes the wood fireproof.”
Serik handed him a shirt and pants in the same style he had seen earlier that day. “Here, these look like they should fit.”
The shirt was a pale turquoise color, and the breeches were a much darker blue. Both of them fit Aibek perfectly, and he thought he had never worn anything nearly so comfortable. He tied the coordinating belt snugly around his waist to keep the pants in place, then looked around again.
Now, what about shoes?
None of the slippers in the small closet even came close to the right size. They were all far too small, and Aibek debated whether it was better to go to dinner barefoot or in his boots.
“Have you ever seen anything this soft?” Faruz came strolling through the open door, holding a pair of cream-colored slippers. “I finally found a pair of shoes that fit me, but my closet is full of these huge ones. They look closer to your size than mine.” He tossed the slippers toward his friend.
“These are perfect. I guess I don’t have to go barefoot to dinner after all,” Aibek grinned in relief as he pulled the second slipper into place. “Should I ring for someone to clear the tub away? We could all wait in the sitting room instead of this little room. It might be a bit less cramped.”
Faruz chuckled, and they filed into the much larger room. Serik pulled the rope in the corner before he followed the others out.
* * *
“How am I sup
posed to dance and act happy that Tavan’s dead?” The pretty young woman asked her friend. She tied the sash around her waist and smoothed her skirt over her hips.
Tamyr looked up, shook her head, and returned to the work of fastening the buttons of her own gown. Tonight would be hard for her friend, and nothing she said could make it any easier.
The pretty young woman continued. “We were supposed to be married this summer, before my condition was obvious. Our child would have taken his place as governor someday.”
She brushed her long hair into a simple style, then sank onto the chair near her bed. “What'll become of me, Tamyr? My father..." she trailed off, hiccupped, and started again. "He'll be furious when he finds out I’m with child. He never knew about my relationship with Tavan. We were planning to announce our engagement the week he died.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and sniffled softly.
Tamyr walked over and perched on the arm of her friend’s chair. She put an arm around the girl's slender shoulders and brushed the tears from her cheek. “We’ll figure something out. You’re strong. You’ll get through this. Maybe, once we get rid of the interloper and his friend, your son can still lead the village.”
The young woman sniffed and nodded. Squaring her shoulders, she stood and regarded her reflection once more. “It’s time to go. You’ll be there before the meal is over, right?”
Tamyr nodded and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll be there.”
The woman picked up the note she had written earlier in the day and tucked it into her skirt pocket. She swept out the door in a flurry of skirts. Fighting tears for her friend's pain, Tamyr stared after her for a moment. When she'd regained control of her emotions, she grabbed the brush and finished getting ready for the festivities.
The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set Page 6