And that was how Derian realized that they planned to give him a horse. He realized immediately that the gift was meant as compensation—for there could be no replacement—for dead Roanne, but nonetheless, he was deeply touched. There had been no reluctance in Varjuna's voice, only eagerness and enthusiasm.
Zira looked a bit more thoughtful, but that was only—as Derian learned a few moments later—because she thought Derian might be a bit too tired to ride well, and that he should wait until tomorrow to start testing possible mounts.
"After all," she said, "you don't need to rush. There are plenty of horses than can be loaned to you if you need to ride to the city. You want to make sure you're perfectly happy."
"And if you're not," Varjuna interjected, "as sometimes happens, we can let you exchange."
"But we don't want him disappointed," Zira objected, "nothing is worse than choosing a horse and having to trade. I remember when I outgrew my first horse. I had expected to keep riding her for years to come, then I shot up like a weed and we just weren't right for each other."
"I think I can manage a ride or two," Derian said, almost overwhelmed, "and I certainly won't be deciding anything today."
That satisfied both his hosts, and the next several hours passed quite pleasantly for all of them—and for the small group of grooms, trainers, and kidisdum who drifted over to offer comment and advice. They chatted about teeth (no one was in the least insulted when Derian checked the teeth of a horse he was interested in) and hooves and the merits of various types of saddles and stirrups.
It was during this fine muddle that Derian met Poshtuvanu, Varjuna and Zira's eldest, though introductions waited until they were well into a friendly argument over which types of hay were best. Later, the younger two sons—both near Derian's age—arrived. Everybody had their own opinion, and in the end Derian was rather relieved when the rattling of an iron rod against the sides of a wrought-iron triangle signaled that the time had come for horses to be brought in from pasture, for feed to be hauled to those who were remaining out for the night, and for any of the dozens of jobs that are repeated daily at a working stable.
Dinner that evening was a small, family affair, for though many people wanted to meet the foreign visitor, Varjuna had commanded that Derian be given a chance to settle in first.
"We wouldn't ask a new horse to run a race on his first day, would we?" he said, and everyone agreed with such immediacy that Derian wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been fed hot mash and had his ankles wrapped before being put to bed.
Dinner, however, was an excellent seafood stew served over a tiny white grain Derian had not encountered before coming to Liglim, but which apparently grew well where the weather was both hot and wet. A pale beer was served with dinner, and Derian had to remind himself to keep an eye on the unobtrusive way his mug was filled whenever its level dropped below half. There was fruit to follow, and, of course, honeyed nuts.
He tumbled into bed that night, still subconsciously weighing the merits of various horses he had ridden, and wondering whether he should choose a mare or a stallion. He knew he wanted a breeding animal. While a stallion could be set to several mares, mares were generally more even-tempered. He wasn't looking to found his own stable quite yet. He needed an animal to ride. On the other hand, Varjuna assured him that on the whole their stallions were tractable and some were even mild. One simply didn't force them into proximity with other stallions, especially around a mare in heat…
Somewhere in the midst of this, Derian fell asleep, and dreamed, unsurprisingly, of horses.
Derian didn't make his decision the next day or even the next after that. He found this gained him respect rather than making the others think him difficult to please or picky.
"Only a child or someone in great need chooses a horse quickly," Varjuna said. "After all, horses can live for many years. It is not a relationship into which one enters lightly."
Reviewing his options gave Derian ample opportunity to get to know the denizens of u-Bishinti. Since Varjuna and Zira had duties, that kept them from being Derian's guide all the time, Poshtuvanu was given the job. At first, Derian thought this was simply because of who his father was, but within a short while he realized that Poshtuvanu was knowledgeable beyond his contemporaries.
"It was either learn fast," Poshtuvanu confided in Derian as they sat on a fence rail surveying the same paint bachelor herd as the day before, "or disappoint both myself and my parents. As it is, I keep needing to prove myself over and over again."
"Do you want to be a kidisdu or an aridisdu?" Derian asked, knowing that specialization often came after a candidate had tried both courses.
"Kidisdu," Poshtuvanu replied promptly. "I'm more interested in the horses themselves than in the books of lore. Don't get me wrong. I'm very glad that animals can help us understand the best way to live in accordance with the divine will. It's just that my mind doesn't seize on all that stuff. Now, my youngest brother is another matter. I think he'll be an aridisdu."
One thing they did not do was haunt the pastures where the Wise Horses could be found.
"Everyone goes sneaking off to look at them when they're kids," Poshtuvanu said. " It's a rite of passage, almost, and the Wise Horses are pretty patient about it. However, once you're older, you realize it would be rude, like peeking in the windows of someone's house. The Wise Horses set a young stallion or two on watch, and messages are given to them."
"Your father took me up there pretty confidently," Derian said, kicking at the rail with his heel and wondering how much of his inability to settle on a new horse was due to the memory of Roanne—and how much to the memory of that one wonderful ride. After all, he'd had to make choices much more quickly at horse fairs and had never had any difficulty.
"Father probably had been granted an omen," Poshtuvanu said with the breezy unconcern that Derian was coming to accept on this matter. "In any case, if the watch stallion hadn't wanted to acknowledge your coming, the ikidisdu would not have pressed further."
"But," Poshtuvanu went on, giving Derian a strange, sidelong glance, "you probably know more about this than any of us."
Derian blinked.
"How could I? I'd never seen one of these Wise Horses until last night."
Poshtuvanu looked a bit nervous, like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
"Never mind," he said. "Forget I said anything. It's just that you're so good with horses I forget sometimes you're a stranger."
Derian didn't think that anyone looking at him—the one red head among all these dark ones—could forget for a moment that he was a stranger, but he accepted the apology in the spirit it had been offered, and politely changed the subject.
"So," he said, returning to well-trodden ground, "what would you pick, if all things were the same, a mare or a stallion?"
Chapter XIV
I had asked to see Ahmyndisdu Tiridanti," Waln said stiffly to Harjeedian. "She is not available," Harjeedian replied, smoothly. Although Waln did not invite him, he glided into the two-room suite Waln had occupied since the return of the Fayonejunjal. "Word of your request was given to me, and I am here to see what I may do to assist you."
Waln swallowed a snarl, covering his agitation by moving over to the tidy liquor cabinet and pouring himself a glass of the sharp white wine he was learning to enjoy.
"I understand that there was a reception a few days ago," Waln said, deliberately not offering Harjeedian a glass of wine. "A reception for those we brought from the north. I had thought I would be invited to such an event. After all, without my intervention, you would not have learned of their existence."
"The omens," Harjeedian said, "did not indicate that you were to be included among those entertained."
"Omens," Waln said, almost sneering. "Right. When will I see the ahmyndisdu again?"
"I am not privileged with such information," Harjeedian replied. "What about the other members of u-Liall?" Waln said, drinking half his wine in one deliciously cool
swallow, and filling the glass again. "They were glad enough to meet with me when the voyage was being planned."
"Then the omens indicated that such pleased the deities," Harjeedian said. He crossed to where water chilled in a sweating pottery jar and dipped himself a cup. "The omens apparently have not indicated that visiting with you is how u-Liall is to spend their time. Perhaps you might tell me what you would discuss with u-Liall, and I could seek solutions."
Waln didn't want to put his questions to Harjeedian, but since the alternative seemed to be not putting them to anyone, he began, though reluctantly. "First, I want to know how long we're expected to stay in this place."
Harjeedian looked around the spacious room.
"Are you not comfortable?"
Waln swallowed a rude retort, for in truth, he was comfortable. Along with Shelby, Rarby, and the other survivors of the shipwrecked Explorer, Waln now resided in a large building down near the harbor. Each man had his own suite of rooms. Servants brought meals and handled the cleaning. The men had been provided with a wardrobe in the local style. Last night there had even been entertainment—minstrels singing after the local fashion. However, the relative luxury of their situation could not change two things.
One, they were expected to work as tutors in return for their keep. Two, for all the mannerly words the Liglimom used to avoid discussing the matter directly, they were prisoners.
"The quarters are quite adequate," Waln said, careful to offer praise lest his jailers put him in a worse place, "but I find that I am not permitted to leave the building. None of us are."
"That is for your own safety," Harjeedian said. "The residents of u-Seeheera are not familiar with foreigners, and we have some legends that feature evil creatures that quite resemble you northerners. Perhaps these legends are remnants from the days before the deities blew the breath of Divine Retribution upon the land, when perhaps our founding nations were less than friends. Whatever the source, we do not think it would be safe for you to walk the streets."
Waln hadn't noticed any xenophobia on the part of Fayonejunjal's sailors, but then that venture would have been crewed with open-minded types—as had the Explorer. He put this aside for further consideration.
"Also, I find we are expected to work as teachers. I, myself, had at least three different men here today—all disdum. At first I thought they were making a social call, but I soon realized that they expected me to teach them Pellish."
Waln let creep into his voice a hint of his indignation that he, the anticipated new ambassador, had been reduced to the role of language tutor. Harjeedian seemed to miss the point entirely.
"Then you are not capable of teaching Pellish?" The aridisdu looked mildly puzzled. "I thought you quite passable—not equivalent to the minstrel, certainly, but then your training is different."
Waln swallowed a mouthful of bile at this insult so casually offered.
"That's another thing," he said. "Where is Barnet Lobster? Where, for that matter, are Lady Blysse and Derian Carter?"
Harjeedian's annoyance showed momentarily, but there was no trace of it in his reply.
"Of course you would be concerned for your fellow northerners, especially after you did so much to help bring them here." Again there was an implied insult in the silky words, a reminder that neither Lady Blysse nor Derian Carter would view Waln with any fondness at all. "They have been staying in Heeranenahalm, although all but Barnet have recently relocated."
Heeranenahalm translated as "City of Temples" and was, as Waln knew from earlier meetings, the district surrounding the towering step pyramid, a very exclusive area. His resentment burned brighter at hearing this, but not sufficiently to make him abandon his search for information.
"You said, 'until recently,'" Waln prompted. "Where are they now?"
Harjeedian apparently decided to humor him.
"Derian Counselor has been taken to u-Bishinti. Lady Blysse has gone to Misheemnekuru. Barnet Lobster remains a guest of the Temple of the Cold Bloods in Heeranenahalm."
Earlier, the fact that the name of the place where Derian had been taken literally translated as "the stable" might have fooled Waln into believing that the proud young king's counselor had been demoted to a mere a stablehand. However, Waln had been speaking Liglimosh long enough to know that while the "u" prefix literally translated as "the," it meant something more like "top" or "best" or "model." So u-Bishinti must be the most important stable, if not in the nation, at least in this area.
Waln felt a certain sour satisfaction when he learned that Barnet Lobster remained in Heeranenahalm, but his command of Liglimosh was not adequate for him to figure out where Lady Blysse had gone. Doubtless, he realized sourly, precisely what Harjeedian had intended.
Another little reminder to keep me in my place, Waln thought, and though his first impulse was to pretend that he had understood perfectly, he knew this was what Harjeedian would expect.
"I know that 'mishem' means 'islands," he said. "After all, I am an islander myself. 'Ne' indicates possession, but 'kuru' is beyond me."
Harjeedian's slight smile accorded Waln a point in this little battle of wills.
"It is a difficult concept to translate," Harjeedian said, "not knowing your culture. In a limited sense, it means 'safety,' but it implies more than mere physical safety. It means a safety that is defended by the will of the deities."
"We have something like that," Waln said. "It isn't precisely the same, but if a fugitive chooses to take refuge in the society chapter house, that refuge is granted and the society must be appealed to before the fugitive is turned over to authority."
"Is the society then more powerful than the law?" Harjeedian asked.
"No," Waln said bluntly. "If say a thief is fleeing the law, then he's going to find the society turns him over pretty quickly. A servant fleeing an abusive master, or a wife from a husband who beats her—even a child from his parents—can appeal to the society to help resolve the matter. There's law involved in those cases, too, but sometimes a person needs to hide first, then call on the law."
"Interesting," Harjeedian said. "Your societies then have real power. They are not simply social entities."
"I never thought about it much," Waln said. "Everyone thinks about the festivals first. Those are the most fun, but the societies do have power."
Harjeedian nodded as if making a note of this for later reflection.
"Your explanation of the society as refuge does help me," the aridisdu said. "The term 'kuru' is closer to this refuge as granted by a society than to mere safety, but in this case, the safety is granted—even assured—by the deities. If any trespass against kuru then the deities will punish that person."
"A sanctuary on an island doesn't seem like much good," Waln said. "How would a person who needs help get there?"
Harjeedian made an apologetic gesture.
"I forget that you do not know the history of those islands. The sanctuary is not given to fugitives, rather, the land is reserved for the sole use of the yarimaimalom. It is their sanctuary, and any human who violates it will suffer divine punishment—if the yarimaimalom do not resolve the matter first."
Waln had already figured out that the Liglimom were nuts about their animals, but he had to keep from gaping at the idea of giving over entire pieces of land to them. He might have asked more, but then he remembered why the situation had come up in the first place.
"But Lady Blysse went there. Isn't she violating that restriction?"
"Lady Blysse claims herself yarimaimalo rather than human," Harjeedian replied. "Blind Seer has accompanied her. The rest is up to the divine will."
Waln had the feeling that Harjeedian wasn't as comfortable about all of this as he pretended, but he was an astute enough trader to know when not to push his point.
"So both Derian and Lady Blysse have left u-Seeheera," he said, politely providing Harjeedian with an escape from this awkward topic. "Barnet's still here. Maybe we can visit."
"I shall
speak with him about the matter," Harjeedian said. "He, too, is very busy teaching."
Waln felt a little better about his own work if this was the task that Barnet—who after all was blood kin to King Harwill—had been set. Maybe it wasn't a demotion after all. In any case, he had a lot to think about now, and he was willing to bet that Harjeedian had told him a whole lot more than that pretentious twit Tiridanti ever would have.
"I appreciate your offering to ask Barnet," Waln said. "Those of us who survived the shipwreck are like brothers after what we went through. I've worried about Barnet."
"I am sure," Harjeedian replied ambivalently. "I must return to my own duties. Is there any message I can bring to Ahmyndisdu Tiridanti?"
"Only that I wish to continue to be of service to her and to the rest of u-Liall," Waln replied. "You have been a great deal of help in answering my questions."
"I am pleased to have been of service," Harjeedian said.
After Harjeedian had left, Waln moved to one of the outer windows. All the windows on the exterior of the building—as opposed to those that overlooked the interior courtyard—were small and narrow, meant to permit the circulation of air, but to shield the interior from the violence of the weather—or so one of the servants had said when Waln had asked. Waln still thought these small windows meant the building was intended as a sort of glorified prison, but he had decided not to say so.
Although the exterior window wouldn't permit even a child, much less a man of Waln's bulk, to climb out, it was sufficient for him to view the bay. He had remembered islands in the bay, but as they had not been much in use he had dismissed them from consideration, thinking they must be swampy or disease-infested.
Now he viewed the green masses with new interest, noting for the first time what seemed to be the ruins of buildings thrusting up here and there. Harjeedian had spoken of history. The buildings implied that before the islands had been turned into a preserve for the yarimaimalom, they had been used by humans. That meant there was probably fresh water, game, timber…
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