Kara was intrigued, but if Rishi had made his mind up, she knew he’d never tell her. Instead she let the subject drop, not wanting to spoil the moment. The crimson darkened to a deep carmine as the sun disappeared, and the swift curtain of night fell.
"Let’s sleep out here tonight?" Kara suggested. "Lemnas and Ostara will be up soon, and with both moons nearly full, it'll be like daylight." Even as she spoke the realization hit her; she'd been with the Maruts for a whole lunar cycle. She had learned much about the planet's indigenous people and understood how much more there was still to discover.
Rishi laughed. "If we were with our own family, I’d say yes, but Hitam would have the guards out searching for us. It’s safer not to displease the mountain overlord."
Why did they have to endure these continuous constraints? This Hitam was a tribal lord on a backward planet, but she was beginning to feel as if she were a rare animal he brought out to display his power. But she surrendered, knowing well enough Hitam would blame Rishi otherwise. They were too close to the Summer Meet, too close to seeing Ikeya and Yleni and the tribe again. Nothing should jeopardize that goal.
Chapter Nineteen: A Setback
Marut Proverb:
We are all hostages to those we love.
They closed the tent flap, sighing with relief after sneaking back into camp unnoticed. They'd barely caught their breath when Farah’s voice called them to come and eat the evening meal with Hitam. They rolled their eyes at each other, and Rishi squeezed her hand. “We have to eat anyway.”
Kara shrugged, and stood on her toes, kissing him softly on the lips. “As long as we have each other, I don't care what or where we eat.”
He pulled her close to his chest, smelling her hair for a minute then, taking her by the hand, led her outside.
Riders had been sent ahead that morning to inform the other leaders of the mountain tribes’ imminent arrival and the news of the disaster that had struck Taruba's people. One had returned, and the atmosphere in Hitam's tent was electric with anticipation as their journey neared its end. Hitam was expansive tonight. He’d ordered a special meal to celebrate arriving at the coast. He made jokes, his red mouth wide with laughter, yet nothing escaped his shrewd gaze. “I sent a messenger to your tribe,” he told Rishi, “but they haven’t arrived yet. I am sure when they do come, they will be overjoyed to learn of your survival.”
“You are, as ever, considerate of those under your shelter, Shanwatah Hitam.” Rishi was politeness personified.
Kara kept a straight face and focused on eating the sherbet balls. These delicacies, which she’d not tasted before, were made with fresh rueberries picked by the women from the clumps of small sturdy bushes decorating the grassland.
Farah had rejected Kara’s offer to help collect the berries, telling her the plants had thorns that delivered a blistering weal if you even got a tiny prick, and the women who picked them had been doing so since childhood.
Kara swallowed another sweet tart mouthful, and continued to listen to the conversation, impressed by Rishi’s calm responses when she knew he must be worried sick about his people.
“I will send you a message the minute your family arrives.” Hitam smiled magnanimously at them.
Kara's view of the northern mountain leader had changed from her initial indifference to active mistrust, and she couldn't wait to sit with Yleni and the boys around their fire preparing and cooking food in the evenings. Unlike here, where the Shanwatah offered every comfort possible—except their freedom.
After the meal, they'd barely entered their tent when a young boy came running with a message from Hitam for Rishi to attend him. Kara and Rishi exchanged looks. Questions—why hadn't he spoken to Rishi during the meal? Why let him go, then call him back? And the most obvious one—why just Rishi? remained unspoken.
“Perhaps he’s received news of Ikeya?” Kara removed her shawl.
“Stay here, you’ll be fine. If that’s what it is, I’ll hurry back.” Rishi left the tent, eager to hear if his uncle had arrived.
Kara heard a noise. Thinking Rishi had returned, she crossed the tent and opened the flap, but it wasn’t Rishi. Instead she saw two guards standing outside with their backs to her. Neither gave any indication they were aware of her presence. Her heart beat faster. This means nothing, she told herself. Hitam wants to make sure I'm safe while Rishi is with him. He’s just being careful. She wasn’t sure she believed it and paced restlessly around the tiny space, unable to relax. Each second seemed an age. Where was Rishi? Why was he taking so long?
When he came in, he put his finger to his lips and his expression was grave. “Everything’s fine,” he told her speaking louder than necessary while pointing outside where the men waited.
Kara nodded her understanding. “Oh, that’s good.” She gave a loud exaggerated yawn. “Shall we sleep? I’m really tired.”
“A good idea.” He nodded in approval and within minutes they'd snuggled under the blankets, and he whispered in her ear. “Hitam says there is no sign of Ikeya at all.”
Kara pulled back and looked at him. The deep line between his eyes worried her. “They’re still traveling?”
“Maybe, but Ikeya is always one of the first to arrive.”
“‘What else did he say?”
“Oh, he said there could be any number of reasons for their delay, and suggested another early storm had struck or they lost time searching for us.” Rishi’s expression darkened. “He’s probably right. They would have waited and searched for us. They may think we are lost for good.”
“Why are there guards outside? Do you think he’s lying? What can we do?”
“Nothing until we reach the meeting grounds. Once we're there, I can ask the other desert tribes if they know anything. The mountain tribes stick together, as do those from the plains, and we have strong alliances with the other desert tribes.”
Neither of them slept much that night. The next morning the two guards escorted them to Hitam’s tent for breakfast.
“Shanwatah,” Rishi began as the meal drew to a close.
Hitam held his hand up, and stopped him before he could say anything else. “I took you in and sheltered you both, and my responsibility is to keep you and your good wife safe till your own tribe arrives. But until then there are elements, even within my tribe, I have protected you from. You must know those difficulties will increase when we arrive at the Summer Meet.” His eyes moved to Kara then back to Rishi. “You are still free to walk about as you have been doing during your time with us. Let it rest there.” Hitam had spoken, and the subject was dismissed.
Rishi subsided. There was nothing else he could do. After breakfast was finished two different men escorted them back to their tent. Hitam wasn’t giving any opportunity for them to wander about as they’d done last night.
Soon the tribe had packed up and was on the move, their unwelcome companions walking close behind allowing no opportunity to discuss this new situation till they were alone in their tent that night. Today had been the final full day of travel—tomorrow they'd reach the Summer Meet and she’d be the first of her people to see all the different tribes from the northern continent gathered together in one place.
“What do you think Hitam is really planning for us?” Kara asked Rishi as they huddled, whispering to each other under the blankets that night.
“I've no idea, and I'm worried where Ikeya and the rest of the tribe are. We may be a smaller tribe than Hitam’s, but we are powerful, and Ikeya is a member of the Inner Council. He always arrives early because they have important matters to discuss before the other tribes arrive. Talks that include all tribal leaders are held later. It’s only Inner Council members who go to your people and discuss trade.”
“I take it Hitam’s not a member of the Inner Council?”
“No. But his rescue of us, and your appearance will be a big talking point. Many have strong opinions about foreigners.”
“Devils?” she whispered, remembering that sever
al had felt strongly enough they'd tried to kill her and Rishi—even though he was a Marut and one of their own.
“You will be the first foreigner ever to attend any of our Meets, but I warn you, the same debate of tradition and old laws versus change and innovation is going on but on a much larger scale among the tribes. When we found you, he saw an opportunity to change something.”
Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and an uncomfortable thought occurred. The next question was hard, and it might change her feelings for Rishi and about the Maruts altogether, but she had to ask. “When you found me, could you have taken me back home?” She had to know if Ikeya had made a calculated choice to keep her, putting her together with Rishi, hoping something would spark between them that could further his plans. Or had taking her with them been the only way to save her life? She shut out the awful memory of the bear, and the burning pain of its claws tearing her skin open.
“The poison in a kallin bear’s claws works fast, and without Yleni’s healing skills, you would have died.”
She looked at him for a minute before breathing out a sigh of acceptance. “What happened afterward between you and me wasn't planned?”
He gaped at her in astonishment. A stubborn look appeared in his eye, and he regarded her coldly for a second before understanding softened his expression. “No. Have no doubt or fear, gradhaig. No matter how much Ikeya hoped something might come to pass, this thing between you and me happened because it is meant to be. No one can arrange for two people to mind speak. Besides, we didn’t know how far behind the kallin pack was either. If they'd been traveling close behind that first one, none of us would have survived.”
There was a lot more going on here than she could have ever imagined. Instead of evolving from simple hunter gatherers, the Maruts had descended from a spacefaring species whose technology exceeded that of her people. Politics here was as complicated as among the colonists. Maybe even more, for the issues in question were ones opening serious cracks in their society, and dividing them into opposing factions.
The camp was buzzing the next morning. Hot cups of caj burned throats as they were gulped down too fast and breakfast was eaten in record time, with Hitam giving constant orders to a stream of messengers. None of the exchanges they heard mentioned Ikeya’s tribe, and the chieftain ignored them and Taruba, who had also become a regular fixture of the inner circle.
As the sun rose to its zenith, Kara shivered with expectancy as she walked beside Rishi, the satyr's rope loose in her hand. The sky above was deep blue; the sun heated her skin, and the wind from the sea cooled it. Accompanying their approach was the constant deafening crash of surf as the sea threw itself against the cliffs. She was the first colonist to witness this event, but she was no longer a critical scientist, an outsider. She'd become in some small manner through Rishi, a Marut, and the sense of belonging that came from her heart, not her head, gave her deep satisfaction. She was leaner, fitter, stronger, and healthier than she’d ever been, and could walk for most of the day beside Rishi now, despite her shorter stride not quite matching his. She breathed in the sharp tangy smell of the ocean and found the rhythm of upsurge, crescendo and retreat soothing.
Rishi strode beside her, turning often to check on their guards, then meet her gaze. Despite the unruffled face Rishi presented to the world, she knew he was buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing his family.
By early afternoon, they had crossed the last valley and Hitam’s combined tribes had lost their earlier cohesion. Those behind had caught up and spread out alongside the leaders in a wide extended line of people, carts, and satyrs.
When the long front crested the ridge, Kara gasped. The land sloped down a short distance to a wide generous plateau vibrant with a tapestry of vividly colorful tents stretching into the distance. From their vantage point, Kara could see that instead of each tribe setting up its own circle, each had an allotted place in one immense circle. She noticed gaps left for tribes like Hitam’s, Ikeya’s, and others who hadn't yet arrived. The tents were arranged around a large central space left clear for ceremonies and competitions. No one seeing this could call the Maruts primitive or their society chaotic and without social mores or structure. There was a great deal of activity with antlike figures scurrying here and there. Kara caught traces of sweetwood fragrance drifting on the breeze from the cooking fires, the smoke rising like offerings to the sky. She spotted several distinctive carts over to the left that looked similar to those used by the desert tribes. On the opposite slope, another tribe was making its way down toward its allotted place.
Hitam raised his hand, and the blast of a horn sounded as they began their descent to the plateau. Despite their numbers, the mountain tribes made an orderly descent with Hitam in the lead, and Taruba’s diminished tribe straggling along at the tail end.
Rishi scrutinized the tents below. She knew if he'd caught sight of his tribe, he'd have said something. This meant they still hadn’t arrived. As they descended the gentle incline, Rishi pointed, “'See how the leader of each tribe sets up their tent in the front row? That makes it easy for the leaders and chieftains to meet, and everyone can see who is allying themselves with who.”
Kara nodded. Rishi had a better grasp of the politics in his society than she did of hers. Plants and animals had fascinated her since she was small; people were complicated in ways she didn't understand. “Why aren't Taruba and the leaders of the mountain tribes in the front then?”
“In theory, the four leaders have equal status, but Hitam, as overlord, is letting them and everyone else see his power. They have places in the General Council, but they'll not voice any opinion different to Hitam's. Even Taruba has become his puppet. The rest of the people are placed according to status, with the warriors nearest the chief for protection in case a fight breaks out.”
“They have actual fights here?"
Rishi laughed at the indignation on her face. “Not anymore. In the old days the tribes fought many wars against each other, and leaders would challenge each other at the Summer Meet for territory with fights to the death. Now, exclusion for a generation is the consequence of starting trouble. Behind the warriors, the priests and healers, then the artisans, and finally the herders pitch their tents.”
The approach of Hitam’s guards interrupted her lesson in Marut history.
“Your tent is ready. Come,” the first man commanded.
They had little choice but to follow. Surprisingly, Hitam had ordered their tent placed in the third row behind his, and they found themselves surrounded by warriors. Hitam was keeping them close and making sure they would have no more opportunities to slip away. Not surprisingly though, their guards marched away, leaving them unsupervised. Hitam clearly thought it wasn’t necessary to assign them personal guards when they were in the middle of the warriors’ living quarters.
Before they had a chance to enter the tent, a messenger came running toward them—Hitam wanted to see them immediately. As they approached the chieftain’s tent, Kara noticed it was covered in even more elaborate richly decorated hides than when traveling and stood out amongst all the chiefs as the most opulent. She wondered why he felt the need to openly display his wealth. If he was truly influential, why wasn’t he on the Inner Council? Maybe the others didn’t trust his ambition either?
A guard ushered them inside to where Farah was helping Hitam dress in a richly embroidered crimson satyr hide jacket. The color suited the big man and made his presence even more noticeable. “Beautiful, eh?” he asked Kara as he noticed her eyes on the coat. “We dress in our finest clothes at these meets, looking to impress each other with our best outfits. Isn’t that right, Rishi?” Hitam knew that between them, he held the balance of power, and the younger man would defer to him.
“Yes, Shanwatah.” Rishi gave a small bow, a smile on his lips as he straightened. “It’s magnificent, don’t you agree, Kara?” He turned to her, his eyes twinkling. “Do they wear such finery in your home when they celebrate?”
“No.” She kept her expression submissive and respectful as she mentally compared celebrations at the colony with what she'd seen of Marut culture. Spacers would admire the ethnic craft work while, at the same time, thinking it a primitive trait to adorn the body in such a way. A good meal, some mild intoxication, time off from duties, pursuing an interest separate from work—that was a festival for them. “We are a plainer people,” she said.
Hitam smiled indulgently at her, but his eyes narrowed as he addressed Rishi. “I need your cooperation, young man.”
Kara sensed Rishi tense up.
“Anything I can help with, just ask,” he replied, smiling. “I am at your service.”
In spite of Rishi’s courteous response, Kara sensed the tension rippling under the surface.
“It’s just that, well how to put this in a way that doesn’t offend you and your wife?” He paused and kept them waiting for another minute or two before continuing. “You are aware, Rishi, that having your good wife here has disturbed the more, how shall I put it, conservative members of our tribe?”
Rishi stiffened visibly, and this time it was Kara’s heart that raced. What was he getting at? She’d received a few looks but there had been far more vocal opposition from Rishi’s smaller tribe. Maybe that was because Hitam didn't allow any difference of opinion in his tribe, whereas Ikeya’s leadership was more democratic?
“You may not be aware, my dear,” Hitam addressed Kara, “but the coming of your people began a division among ours which has continued to widen as time has passed. A number of the elders wish to change, progress cannot be halted, they say, and others are vehement in their determination to keep our traditional way of life. They say change doesn’t always mean progress.”
Veiled Planet (Hidden World Trilogy Book 1) Page 17