Darian grinned. “What about Darkstone?”
“His personality,” she responded promptly. “Pessimistic, unchanging, and cold as a stone. And believe it or not, he chose it himself. It was an affectation when he was young; he liked that particular aloof image. Now he couldn’t change it without more effort than he’s willing to put in.”
“Wintersky? Raindance? Summerdance?”
“All juvenile names; they haven’t gotten use-names yet, and their childhood names weren’t so silly they were in a hurry to lose them.”
“Hmm. Would anyone label me with a use-name that I don’t like, but am stuck with?” He could think of a number of unpleasant possibilities.
“People can try, but if you refuse to respond to their name for you, it’s considered good manners not to persist. You know the proverb - ’It isn’t what you call me, it’s what I answer to that counts.’ “ She nodded with understanding at his obvious relief. “As long as you feel you are Dar’ian and continue to respond to that name, no one will force you to accept another.”
At this point he certainly couldn’t foresee ever wanting to take a use-name. Not even if I were to do something really impressive.
“Do remember if you do take a use-name that, after you’ve had it for many years, it becomes a great effort to change it again,” she cautioned. “Usually something very dramatic has to happen before the change sticks in people’s minds. I can’t think of more than two or three people who’ve successfully gone to a new use-name later in life.”
By then, they’d reached the entrance to k’Vala, and they discussed when and where they would meet for his next lesson. Once inside the Veil they dismounted and thanked the dyheli for their help; Darian escorted his teacher to her ekele, one that was quite low to the ground, by Tayledras standards. There he left her in the hands of her hertasi helpers, and decided to see if Nightbird or Snowfire and Nightwind had eaten dinner yet, as he was in the mood for some company.
I’ll try Kel’s sunning rock, he decided. That always seemed to be the place one or more of them ended up.
Since he was in a very good mood, it came as an abrupt shock to him to walk straight into the middle of a fight between Snowfire and his beloved. He simply rounded a curve in the path, walked out into the open near the group of boulders that several gryphons liked to use for sunbathing, and there they were -
Oh-oh.
“ - and no one is going to dictate whom I talk to!” Nightwind said, clearly and precisely, just as Darian stopped in his tracks. Her eyes, dark with anger, were the color of a thundercloud and looked just about ready to produce lightning. Her hands were clenched, her knuckles white, and her posture as stiff as an iron rod. For his part, Snowlake was actually white with rage, his eyes had gone to a pale gray, and his jaw was set so hard that Darian expected to hear his teeth splintering at any moment.
It was even more of a shock to Darian since they were arguing in a place so very public. They’d argued before, even in his presence, but never where anyone could just walk into the middle of the spat.
They were both using those sharp-edged, oh-so-civilized tones that meant they were really, really angry. They were both so caught up in their fight that neither of them paid the least attention to what was going on around them; he could have been a leaf, for all the attention they paid to him. Kel, wise young gryphon that he was, must have fled the moment the fight began.
Darian was taken so much by surprise that he froze where he was - and it looked as though he wasn’t the only one who’d been caught off-guard and trapped by the altercation. Nightbird stood with her back to the trunk of a tree, looking very much as if she were bound there and not much caring for it, on the other side of the line-of-battle from Darian.
“Look, I told you what he said - and to my face!” Snowfire said between clenched teeth, his face set, his eyes blazing with white fire. “He’s lucky I didn’t call him out in front of the Elders for it! That’s reason enough for you to avoid him.”
“No, it isn’t. And who are you to choose my friends for me?” Nightwind shot back, matching him glare for glare. “I am not going to give up friends I’ve had all my life, just because you can’t get along with them! He was my scouting partner all the way from White Gryphon, and I’m not going to act as if he’s come down with spots just because you got your precious masculine pride a little bruised! You don’t own me, and the last time I looked, the Tayledras didn’t keep slaves!”
That was more than enough for Darian; he managed to catch Nightbird’s eye and made a little motion with his head in the direction of the path. She nodded violently and edged around her sister until she got clear of the pair, then made a dash for safety. He grabbed her hand as she reached him, and they both beat a quick retreat up the path.
“What was all that about?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot and felt as if they could slow down to a walk. “And how did you get caught in the middle?”
“Lessons with my sister, with Kel serving as the willing client,” she said, a little out of breath. “Snowfire came charging into the middle of it without so much as an ‘excuse me’ and began ranting about a friend of hers.” She paused, then said carefully, “And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not name names.”
He waved a hand at her. “Don’t worry, I’d rather not know!”
“Well, the fellow in question is pretty well known among the Kaled’a’in for saying stupid things without thinking and regretting it later,” she replied. “I guess that’s probably what he did this time. That, and I think there’s some jealousy there, too, since he used to be Nightwind’s partner, like she said, and the fact that she’d chosen to take someone else as her mate came as a nasty surprise.” Nightbird looked very, very worried, though she didn’t say anything more, and Darian had a fair idea why. She hadn’t seen her sister for four years, and probably thought this represented a truly serious rift between Nightwind and her mate.
“So he’s been brooding about it and maybe today he was out-of-sorts and he said something rude to Snowfire.” Darian nodded. “And I bet Snowfire was out of sorts, too, so Snowfire was in no mood to be forgiving.” He sighed, then smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t let this worry you. I’ve seen them fight before, you know. They don’t do it often, it’s always when both of them are on edge or feeling sensitive about something, and they always make it up afterward. Truly. Couples do this sort of thing; Nightwind says it’s because you can’t live life so much a part of each other without eventually doing or saying something that’s too irritating to ignore.”
“Really?” Nightbird lost some of that anxious look.
“Truly,” he told her firmly. “I’ve been caught in the middle of explosions just like that one. They’ll make it up. Especially if you can get whoever it was to come apologize. To both of them, if you can manage it.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “Why me?”
“Because you carefully didn’t tell me his name.” Darian was amused to see the expression on her face when she realized she was caught in a trap of her own making. “Besides, I’m not a Kaled’a’in, and I am Snowfire’s little brother. I’m expected to be on his side. You, on the other hand, can go tell this fellow that he’s a blithering idiot and deserves to have Kel drop him into the lake from treetop height, and get away with it.” He put a little coaxing into his voice. “Look, you all but admitted that the fellow deserves it, and you are awfully good at dressing fools down in a way that rubs their noses in it. You’re also awfully good at making them admit that they were idiots.”
“I am, aren’t I. I wonder if that’s an undiscovered power, the Gift of Insult.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then smirked. “You’re right this time. I’m the logical choice, and what’s more, I can make him feel so guilty about causing a fight at the same time I’m dressing him down that he’ll be begging me to help him make an apology.” She grinned suddenly. “I have every right to be the one to make him feel guilty, too - since I’m the one who got caught
in the middle! You know, Sister always says I know how to work people around so well I ought to become a kestra’chern instead of a trondi’irn. I just tell her that it would be no fun if I had to do it professionally.”
“There you go!” he encouraged her. “Tell you what, I’ll arrange some dinner for both of us, you go give him what he’s got coming, and then come meet me at the far end of the lake and tell me what happened. I promise to heap admiration upon you.”
“It’s a bargain.” She strode off, determination making her spine stiff, energy giving spring to her step, without looking back - probably because she was already rehearsing in her mind exactly what she was going to say. He chuckled a little, and went in search of food that would put her in a very good mood.
She liked finger-foods - because what she liked was variety without getting filled up - so he hunted in a couple of the places where hertasi put out dishes for those who preferred to “graze” for dinner. When one of the hertasi learned what he was doing, things became a little easier, and he waited at the appointed spot with a special basket with a warm stone in the bottom of it to keep the steamed dumplings, sausages, and spiced fish-cakes hot, and a second basket with a chilled stone for the sliced vegetables, dipping sauce, and special rolls Nightbird particularly liked, made of boiled grain, thinly sliced fish, vegetables, and spices all rolled in seeds. Sweet spring water in a glass bottle chilled in the same basket, and hot tea in a pottery jug stayed warm in the first basket. And when Nightbird arrived, looking just a little smug, he rewarded her efforts by opening both baskets, handing her a huge leaf to use as a plate, and giving her first choice. Wonderful aromas rose from the first basket, and the contents of the second had been so artfully arranged by the hertasi that she actually paused to admire the creation.
She went straight for the chilled grain-rolls, which was what he had thought might happen. That was perfectly all right with him, for he had no idea how anyone could eat the things; he helped himself to vegetables and steamed dumplings, and did not press her for details until after she’d had her first roll.
“Well?” he asked archly.
“He should be groveling in front of both of them now,” she said with supreme satisfaction. “And since they were already at the kiss-and-apologize stage when I left him with them, it should be even more gratifying for Snowfire. My sister will probably be exasperated with him, but she’ll forgive him, so all will be well.”
“I told you they’d get over it pretty quickly,” he reminded her. “Havens, with any luck, Snowfire and this mysterious fellow will actually become friends out of this.”
She nodded because her mouth was full, swallowed, and said, “That’s what I’m hoping, though it may actually take both of them trying to pound each other to powder before that happens. Why do some men have to be such idiots?”
“Ask Tyrsell,” he suggested. “Seems to me there’s a lot of king-stag stuff going on there.”
She snorted, and tried a dumpling for variety. “Well, I hope I never get caught in the middle of one of their fights again. It was so civilized, but so angry, it gave me chills! How can anyone fight like that?”
“I don’t know; I think it must be something they’ve worked out. It’s pretty astonishing to watch, actually; not pleasant, but astonishing. I’ve never seen anyone argue that way before.”
“Where do they get the self-control?” she asked, her brow wrinkling. “What have you seen them do?”
“It’s what they don’t do. They don’t call names or make personal accusations. They get what’s making them angry out first thing, and you’d swear that they’re a short step away from killing each other! But then, they get into why it made them angry, they actually take turns and try not to interrupt, and then - and I think this must be the important part - go into exactly how bad this made them feel. And at that point, the fire just goes out of the fight! They get things sorted out, then apologize, get things more sorted out - then things are actually better than they were before the fight, I think, because they’ve made another compromise with each other.”
Nightbird’s eyes widened at that. “My! I think maybe I’d better not get joined to anyone, after all. I don’t think I could manage that! It sounds like an awful lot of work to go through just to stay with someone.”
He licked his fingers clean of juice from a dumpling. “Maybe they couldn’t either, at first. I’m sure they had fights before the one I got caught in. I guess . . . if you’re going to get mad about something, it’s better to get it out than let it sit inside and steam.” He laughed wryly. “I tend to steam, and it got me in a lot of trouble, because things would build up and then let go without warning and I would really get it!”
She bit her lower lip. “Uh-huh,” she agreed. “That’s my problem, too. Maybe we’d better make a vow just to stay friends. I have the feeling that we could really do damage to each other, if we started getting really intimate then got angry with each other over something important.”
Oh, hellfires. But she’s right. If we started getting very, very close, that’s exactly what would happen. “Don’t make vows about the future,” he warned. “But you’re right, and we could make a pledge that we’ll try to just stay friends for that reason. Bargain?”
“Bargain,” she replied solemnly. “Besides, we’re practically related, and that feels too much like incest! Want to head over to Summerdance’s ekele and see what she’s doing? Maybe we can get a game-group together - or maybe you can get Firefrost to tell us some juicy old gossip!”
“Good idea,” he agreed, and in a short time they had polished off the last crumb and packed up the baskets to take back to the hertasi at Summerdance’s ekele.
When he returned to his rooms later that evening, it was with some surprise that he found Snowfire waiting there for him, sitting on Darian’s bed and sharpening one of his knives. Snowfire rose as soon as Darian entered and stopped short at seeing him there.
“I hope you’ll forgive my invading your rooms, but I wanted to apologize for making things unpleasant for you this afternoon,” Snowfire began.
“Accepted,” Darian said instantly. “It sounded as if you had plenty of provocation. But - ”
He stopped, not sure he had the right to make the observation that had just occurred to him.
“But?” Snowfire asked.
Darian sat down, feeling awkward. “Is it just me, or are people getting into a lot more quarrels here than we did out in Valdemar?”
“Hmm. Yes, and no.” Snowfire rubbed the side of his nose. “The thing is, the team we had put together - the team you joined - was made up of people who all knew each other well, well enough to make a lot of effort at getting along, but purposefully not so close that personal problems could arise. And we had a great deal to do, so we were often too busy to pick quarrels. Here,” he gestured, palms up. “Here there are a great many more people, and when there are that many people, not all of them get along, not all of them have the same opinions on important matters, and for that matter, not all of them agree about what an important matter is! So there are conflicts, which are going to cause factions and quarreling.” Now he smiled. “And, to my mind the most important factor, we all have a fair amount of free time! That’s time we can use to brood about wrongs, to decide we’ve been insulted - and to pick quarrels for no particular reason. I’m no less prone to that than anyone else.”
Darian had to laugh at that. “I guess that’s something all peoples have in common, then,” he agreed. “When there isn’t a crisis going on, there are going to be some people who want to make one; when things aren’t dramatic enough, they feel impelled to create drama. And the more stress you’re under, the fewer stresses you notice.”
“We’re no different from the people of your village in that way, little brother,” Snowfire admitted. “At least not that much different. At any rate, I am sorry you walked in on our argument, and so is Nightwind. We both owe you and Nightbird apologies and thanks for your constructive plotting. I’m
glad you’re picking up the hertasi habit of benevolent conspiracy. So again I apologize, and thank you for deciding to stay involved.”
“I’ll accept both only if you promise to try to remember that whoever it was is an insensitive moron - or at least he is according to Nightbird - and try to keep your temper next time.” Darian tried to look stern and Very Adult, but had a hard time keeping a straight face over this blatant role reversal.
Snowfire saw the joke and managed to act meek. “I will,” he whispered, bowing his head. Then he lost control and started laughing. Darian joined him.
“I will make that promise, but I have an ulterior motive,” Snowfire admitted. “Nightwind swears that if he does something like that again and I’ll just report it to her calmly, she’ll give him the tongue-lashing of a lifetime and I’ll get to watch.”
Darian made his eyes widen. “Oooh, I am impressed. Promise to tell me all about it, if she does! Or better yet, get her to invite me, too!”
“Now who has too much spare time?” Snowfire asked, slapping him on the back as he stood up. “Maybe I ought to ask Starfall to find you a fifth teacher!”
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