“Ask him,” Aras said quietly. “Ryo, ask.”
Drawing a breath, I said, trying to keep my voice level, “Warleader of the inKera, permit me to ask, have you heard ... anything of my family?”
Hokino’s eyebrows rose. “A curious question. You cannot expect word to have made its way here yet. Even if your mother would wish to send a reply to my wife, I doubt your letter has even come to her tent.”
I did not remember a letter. Or I did, in a way, now that he spoke of it. I could almost feel my hand on the stylus as I wrote down words, but I could not remember what I had written. When I searched Hokino’s face, I could see nothing of pity in him, such as any man might feel on hearing of such a great loss, even if it had befallen an enemy. I thought I should have seen it in his face, if my tribe had been destroyed and he knew it. But I could not feel relieved, only confused and angry.
Pressing all that down, I bowed my head again. “Please be generous, warleader. I swear before the gods, I have not brought this Lau into the winter country to act against the inKera or against any Ugaro. I know it may seem I must be lying to you and swearing falsely. If you believe that, you will be angry, as any just man would be, but you would be wrong.”
“It hardly seems fitting that an inGara warrior should come without leave into inKera lands, in such a way as this and in such company, and yet question my judgment,” he observed.
I bowed lower. “I meant no insult, warleader. I only meant to speak the truth. I know I am trespassing on inKera lands. I will not protest a beating if you consider my words insolent, but whatever your opinion of me, please do not beat my ... my companion. He is suffering enough from the cold.”
I had not intended to ask that mercy for Aras. I did not know why I had asked it. I breathed deeply, forcing myself to pay attention to this moment rather than the fear and confusion in my mind, and finished, “If you decide we should be put to death, I ask that you refrain. I ask that you take us instead to the lord of the inKera so that he may decide what is best to do.”
Hokino regarded me without speaking for a moment. Finally he said, “If you had intended to cast this important Lau warleader at the feet of the lord of the inKera, that might have won even a son of Sinowa inGara my brother’s good regard. But plainly that is not what you intended, passing so softly through this territory. I think if I took you to my brother, he would dismiss your words and put you to death. He might send your head to your people, but I think he would consider even that more generosity than you are due.”
I held out my hands in the gesture that asks for mercy. “Warleader, I swear I have done nothing to harm your people or any of our people.”
Hokino looked down at me for a moment in silence. Finally he said, “I wish to hear how you came here, and with such a companion. Then I will decide what to do.” He moved his hand, and some of the men began to bend young trees down to make a windbreak while others arranged kindling in the lee of the break and filled a small pot with snow to melt.
In a very little, we were all seated in a rough shelter, with two fires burning for warmth and bowls of rosehip tisane. Hokino did not give me a bowl, because one does not offer such things to a man one may put to death. But he gave a bowl to Aras, saying with an edge of mockery to his voice, “Tell him this is not a gesture of hospitality, inGara, but I don’t wish him to freeze to the bones before you tell me why he is here.”
I bowed my head in gratitude and said in darau, “He may kill you later, but for now he thinks you look cold.”
Aras accepted the bowl, bowed his head as I had, and sipped the steaming liquid slowly. His shivering began to ease.
“Now,” said Hokino to me. “Tell me.”
If I told him I had fallen into the power of a sorcerer, he would probably kill me. If I told him Aras was a sorcerer and that I wished to take him to my home, where I hoped to introduce him to my family, except sometimes I believed they were all dead ... if I told him that, he would certainly kill us both: Aras because he was a sorcerer and me because I was mad.
Beside me, Aras said, his voice rough with cold but steady, “Tell him an enemy of mine, a powerful sorcerer, wishes to use your people to create problems in the borderlands. Give him Lorellan’s name: that can’t hurt now and it might help. Tell him Lorellan wants to create a situation in which he may seize power in the summer lands. Realizing I might be able to prevent his design, he moved against me before I was ready to stop him. He outmaneuvered me, and was going to kill me in such a way that he might put the blame on your people, but you rescued me, Ryo. As I have been divided from my Lau allies, I hope to ally with whatever tribes of the winter lands I can persuade to help me. Though I am now at a serious disadvantage, I think the situation may be recoverable if the gods favor me rather than my enemy. If I win the coming struggle, all my allies on both sides of the river will prosper.” He paused, then added in a pained tone, “It’s true that if I fail, I can promise no such benefit. But whatever happens to my allies at home, at least any tribes of the winter country will be no worse off if they help me. I swear before the gods, I’ll do what I can to help them.”
I stared at him.
“Tell him,” he said. “Please, Ryo. It’s all true. He already knows a sorcerer is involved. You warned him yourself that might be so. He remembers that, even if you don’t.”
It was a good story. And it might be true. Probably at least some of it was true. I explained to Hokino inKera as Aras had explained to me. I fought back the confusion and steadied my gaze, but I could not tell what Hokino was thinking.
“Your Lau is very arrogant, for a man in dire need,” he commented. He looked speculatively at Aras. “A man who has been overpowered by a bitter enemy may well hope for mercy from one less bitter, but he should not offer gifts when his hands are empty. If a great sorcerer defeated this man, what good is he to anyone?” He glanced at me and added, “Do not answer for your Lau, inGara. I wish to know what he will say for himself.”
I had not known Aras could understand or speak any taksu, or if I had known it, that memory was hidden from me. But he met Hokino’s eyes and answered, speaking haltingly but without hesitation. “Maybe my hands empty. Maybe I offer only ... only empty breath. But if a man have honor, then if he take mercy, he give it back. Ryo inGara ask me mercy for you, warleader. I ask you same for him. You say no, I say inKera a people have no honor.”
I had no memory of any events such as he seemed to have in mind. Perhaps that was why I did not see those last words coming quickly enough to stop him from saying them. I could not apologize for another man’s words, but I immediately bowed low, hoping Aras would understand he should do the same. But he did not even lower his gaze.
All his movements unhurried, Hokino set his bowl aside and stood up.
Aras glanced at me, drew a breath, let it out, and visibly set himself to take the blow he had certainly earned. He did not look like a dangerous or an arrogant man. He looked cold, and older than his years ... if I knew how old he was. I seemed to know he had fifty summers and one, though I did not remember anyone telling me such a thing.
Hokino drew his knife, turning it in his hand to strike with the hilt rather than the blade.
I had not meant to protest: for what Aras had said, a blow was certainly the least he could expect in return. But when I saw Hokino did not mean to strike with an empty hand, I began to move, and when he swung, I was in front of Aras so that I would take the blow instead of him. Hokino was a man in the prime of his strength, and he did not hold back. I had not had time to brace myself and his blow sent me sprawling, completely off balance. For a moment I was blind from the shock of it, as will happen with a heavy blow to the face. But the pain was not the kind that signals a broken bone. Ugaro bones do not break easily. If he had hit Aras so hard ... once I had recovered somewhat, I pushed myself up to one knee and glared at Hokino. “Be more moderate, inKera! A blow is well enough, but if you hit a Lau like that, you might kill him. That would not be a just return for th
e words he spoke.”
He eyed me in return; a considering look. I realized he had wanted to find out whether I would take that blow for Aras, and he had discovered that I would. I was probably at least as surprised as he was. Especially since he did not seem surprised at all.
He said, that edge of mockery back in his voice, “Passionately spoken. Are you his dog, inGara, that you speak so vehemently in this Lau’s defense?”
I could not let that insult stand; not only would my pride not permit it, but also Hokino would certainly kill us both if he guessed from my silence that Aras was a sorcerer. Getting to my feet, I drew my knife and threw it into the snow before Hokino. “Bare hands, inKera,” I said sharply. “Unless you are afraid to fight me.”
I could not begin to match the warleader of the inKera in a fight: he had weight on me, and many seasons of experience, and this was inKera land besides, where he had the right to stand and I did not. But as I had no choice but to challenge him, I hoped that he might agree to bare hands. He would defeat me quickly, I had no doubt of that, and then he would certainly beat me severely, for the insult I had thrown in his face if not for the belief I had lied to him. But he had not denied the words Aras had spoken. In return for whatever I had done for Hokino or for his people, I hoped he might not kill me at once, but agree to take us to his brother, or better—and I should have thought of this at once—to Royova inVotaro.
But instead of stepping forward to take up my challenge, he picked up my knife and held it out to me. “Take it,” he said when I did not move at once.
So I knew he would not be satisfied with a beating. He meant to fight me with knives and kill me. There was nothing I could do except die with pride so he might send my head to my father.
My father was dead. Or alive. I could not tell. I shoved the confusion aside with all my strength and took the knife Hokino was still holding out to me. I raised it to guard myself. But then I lowered my knife again, holding up my empty hand to ask Hokino to wait. I spoke quickly and urgently. “I am no man’s dog, warleader. But I hope I may speak for a friend without scornful words being thrown into my face. Please do not put Aras to death. Please take him to the warleader of the inVotaro, if not to your brother. Please let him speak to Royova—”
Hokino held up his own hand to stop me. “Put it away,” he said to me. When I hesitated, he said, patiently, “Your knife, young warrior. Put it away. I agree you are not his dog. I apologize for the insult. I will take your blow for it, if you wish.”
I stared at him. Then I sheathed my knife and bowed my head. “I have forgotten your words,” I said. “They were never said.” Kneeling, I bowed to the ground at his feet. “Forgive me for the insult I gave you, Hokino inKera. I know very well you would never be afraid to fight me. I said it to provoke you, and I beg your pardon.”
“I knew why you said it. Any insult you may have given, I have forgotten. Sit down, young warrior.”
He was most certainly amused. I went as commanded to sit by the fire, beckoning Aras to come sit beside me, where it was a little warmer. He was shivering again, probably with cold, but perhaps with fear or shock. I could hardly call him a coward for that. My hands were shaking as well. I closed them into fists on my knees to hide this.
My brother would never have called a man a dog just to see if he would give a proud answer. But I could see Hokino had found out many things he had wanted to know, very fast. His men were settling around us, but not so guarded as they had been. They mostly looked amused. They had known all the time what their warleader was doing. I realized Aras had undoubtedly seen it in their minds. I had been the only one who had not guessed. I knew my face was hot.
Hokino came to sit across from us. He said to me, “Even though our people are enemies, even though you have brought this Lau warleader into inKera lands, I certainly cannot kill you. Even if I believed you lied to me in everything, throwing such an act in your father’s face would be foolish. Nor would I wish my brother to do such a thing. I have no wish for either of us to have to guard our backs while we face south.”
I bowed silently, acknowledging this, though I knew that Hokino would be able to justify the act to our king and to Royova inVotaro, and then even my father would have to agree I had earned the stroke.
Hokino certainly knew that too, but he went on. “I think if I took your Lau to my brother, Soro would kill him. I think Royova inVotaro would kill him slowly. Yet I thought when we met that you were an honest young warrior, Ryo inGara. Maybe you are lying to me, but I hope I am a better judge of men than that. I think it would be best if I gave you leave to pass through inKera territory. I will let your own people judge you. Perhaps your father will choose to kill your Lau. But perhaps he will choose to put a knife into his empty hand. I think I will leave that decision to the inGara and the lord of the inGara.”
This was much more generosity than I had expected. I bowed to the ground, staying with my face against the snow for ten breaths.
When I finally straightened, Hokino nodded to show he accepted my gratitude. He said, “I forgive any discourtesy you might have shown me. I remember perfectly well that you spoke for me and for my men when we were the ones who hoped for generosity. Your Lau had no need to remind me of that, nor to speak slightingly of inKera honor.”
I bowed low once more. This time Aras bowed as well. When he straightened, he said quietly in taksu, “I apologize for the insult, warleader.”
Hokino gave Aras a long, assessing look. “I forgive it. I would forgive you more than that. You suggest I should remember the mercy you showed to me. I do remember it, and return it now. I hope this is not a mistake. But I do not think it is.” He shifted his level gaze to me. “I do not know whether your Lau’s hands are truly empty, but I know he will never cross the Little Knife in those boots. He may have mine. You will need snow paddles as well. These you carry, you made yourself? They are disgraceful.”
Because of his great generosity, I was unable to take offense. Also because he was right.
He went on, “You had better take an extra blanket as well. Two blankets. A bowl for heating water. Willowbark. I think you have permitted your Lau to take a fever.”
I knew Aras had taken a fever. I had intended to collect willowbark when I found the chance. I did not say so. I said, “Thank you, Hokino inKera.”
“You may hunt within inKera territory; I give you leave.” He raised his voice slightly. “Though if you had a bow, that permission might stretch a little farther.”
There was almost no pause before a man stood up and came to lay his bow beside me, and with it a handful of arrows. I sat with my head bowed, not looking up so that I would not be taken as insolent.
The man nudged my shoulder, a little rough, but not unfriendly. He said, “My sister’s husband was badly injured in that raid. Your Lau’s healers saw to his injury, or he would certainly have died. As you would take a blow for your Lau, you may take the bow.”
“Thank you, warrior,” I said in a low voice.
Each of the other men brought something: a spare coat, warmer than the one we had; a packet of herbs for tisane; a thin skin for water, the kind one packs with snow and then carries next to the body so that the snow will melt. That was a welcome gift; water had been very short at times, as snow was hard to melt except when we halted for the night. Another blanket, which made three. A horn packed with moss in which to carry smoldering embers so that fires need not be started from nothing each time. A packet of meat.
“Beaver,” the man said, who laid down the packet. “He needs the fat.”
For each small gift, I gave quiet thanks. At the end, I bowed again with my face to the snow, gesturing for Aras to do the same. “Thank you,” I said to Hokino. “I will ask my father if he thinks it might be time to consider that inKera is no longer an enemy—if it so happens Soro inKera might wish for that.”
“Interesting days we have before us,” Hokino said. “My brother does not like your father much, inGara. But who knows what
might happen?” As he got to his feet, I straightened, though I did not rise. He stood looking down at me for a moment. Then he started to turn away.
Before he could, Aras said, in rapid darau, “Ryo, warn him Lorellan is almost certainly going to strike into the winter lands soon, if he hasn’t yet. I don’t know exactly what he intends, but I’m certain he means to take many Ugaro prisoners and use them somehow. Hokino must remember the man is a sorcerer, and trust nothing. Tell him to be careful and suspect anything that looks too easy.”
“He knows all this already,” I said impatiently. “Do you think we have no tales of sorcerers trying to do such things?” But I said to Hokino, “He thinks you may wish to watch carefully. He believes his enemy—our enemy—may soon try some sorcerous deception to make many Ugaro his fools or his slaves.”
“We will be careful,” Hokino promised. He glanced at the sky. “You have a little daylight left, and the Moon will throw down a good light tonight if the sky stays clear, though I think perhaps it may snow later.” He gave Aras one more long look, shook his head, and walked away, he and his, the inKera warriors melting into the trees before they had gone a hundred paces, leaving only tracks behind them. And the gifts.
-21-
I could hardly believe I was still alive. I could not believe that Aras was alive. I wished very much I remembered whatever had happened between him and Hokino. But I said what had struck me most in all of this: “He had not heard anything of my people. If you had murdered them all, he would surely have known.” Then I thought of my brother’s body, spread out in the snow—my father’s dead eyes turned up to the sky—in a rapid series of terrible memories, I heard my mother weeping, my elder sister wailing, saw my younger brother pinned to the snow by a laughing Lau soldier. I heard my little sister screaming—
“Ryo,” Aras said with quiet force. “If Hokino’s memories are true, you know yours must be false. Please, let me help you—”
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