I had to laugh. I looked from him to Garoyo, who was standing with his arms folded, looking severe. But now that I looked closely, I could see his amusement in the tilt of his head. “This is one of your friends,” he said to me. “Our sorcerer’s nephew put him with us—or us with him—because he is not afraid of Ugaro warriors. Etta explained us to one another. He can beat me in a fight with empty hands ... but not very often.”
I laughed again. “Geras, Suyet, do you also know my brother and sister?” I asked in darau.
“We just got here,” Geras reminded me. He looked my brother up and down and said to Suyet, “Wouldn’t take that one for a boy, would you?”
Suyet laughed.
Aras was smiling as well. “You did very well too, Troop Leader Geras. It was a hard task I gave you, and I’m extremely grateful you managed it.”
Geras gave him a slightly wary look and touched his heart again. “The scepter made all the difference, my lord. And your very clear instructions about what use to make of it.”
“It was rather abrupt, I know.”
“Everything was abrupt just then,” Geras said drily.
I had become impatient with all this. I said in taksu, “Lord of the inGara, this is Geras, and Esau, and Suyet. These are honorable and generous men. I am glad to say they are my friends.” Then, in darau, “Geras, this is my mother, Marag, singer of the inGara ... my father, Sinowa, lord of the inGara ... my brother Garoyo, warleader of the inGara ... my sister Etta, also a singer of the inGara. I wish for you to know them and for them to know you.” I thought of giving the names of the others of my people, but they were not my family and they might not wish it, so I did not.
Suyet bowed with a flourish, Esau nodded. Geras bowed to my mother, inclined his head to my father, smiled at my sister, and eyed my brother without favor. “This would be the brother who so bravely—”
“Geras! Do not say it,” I requested urgently. “My mother speaks darau; I would have to strike you for it, and think how embarrassed I would be.”
“Well, gods forbid you should be embarrassed,” Geras said, but he did not finish his comment about my brother.
My mother smiled at him. “I would not be so careless as to overhear any remark a friend of my son made about my son’s eldest brother, but this is still good advice. I am Marag inGara, daughter of Marag inKarano. If you should come into the winter country, any of you, you may use my name. Almost any tribe would offer you hospitality for my sake.”
My father had been considering Geras. When my mother had finished speaking and they were all still looking at her in surprise, he said to me, “This Lau is angry with your brother on your behalf, Ryo?”
I had known he would not have misunderstood that. I turned my hands palm up, conceding that this was true and requesting my father’s tolerance.
“So.” My father examined Geras again, his expression thoughtful. Geras met his gaze, growing still as a man will when he sees that another man, a dangerous man, might be his enemy. Suyet did not notice this, but Esau moved sharply to put himself behind Geras in support. But my father said, “I do not resent it. My son?”
Garoyo had been waiting patiently. Now he inclined his head. “I find no possible way to resent it. A friend is worthless if he will not take up a friend’s cause.”
“Indeed.” My father looked Geras up and down. He said to me, “I take your word that this is an honorable and a generous man. As he is your friend, he may say what he wishes and I will not be offended.”
I relaxed. “There is no trouble,” I told Geras. “My father approves of you.”
“Does he,” said Geras, his tone dry.
“No, you’re glad to hear it, believe me,” Esau muttered to him. “That’s a man to take carefully, so be polite, hear me? If he challenges you, step back and let me take it, but if you’re fool enough to give him a push, I swear I’ll let you get dirt between your teeth.”
I asked in complete surprise, many small things falling into place, “Esau, are you a sorcerer?”
He looked at me and then grinned, a swift flash of white teeth in his dark face. “Only very, very slightly, Ryo. I get little darts of emotion. If you can handle Lord Gaur, I don’t want to hear a single word about it.”
“No,” I said, still astonished. I thought of Aras telling me that about one Lau in fifty was a weak sorcerer. I should have guessed. I had known Esau understood more than most men. I said, “I do not mind it.” It was true. That astonished me as well.
Lord Aras cleared his throat.
At once Geras nodded and stepped back, and a man arrived to tell us the summer king was waiting for us and to take the ponies. Darra said gravely, in darau, “Take care: the white one is hard-tempered,” then slapped the stallion lightly on the muzzle when he immediately proved her warning well-given by trying to bite the soldier. The stallion laid his ears back, but desisted.
Now that the soldiers had drawn back, the townspeople could look openly at us, and many of them pressed forward to stare and then pressed back again when my father or Garoyo or any of us young men looked their way. My mother smiled kindly upon the Lau, who were mostly too cautious to smile back. But my sister was so obviously interested and friendly that some of them smiled at her. Darra inKarano, neither young enough nor old enough to set aside her dignity, pretended she was not interested and looked neither left nor right, but straight ahead, very regal, exactly like the king’s daughter she was.
This was a prosperous village, little harmed by the war. They were all wearing their best in honor of their king: fine cloth dyed in rich colors, with many blue and gold bangles for the women. Few were armed, except the soldiers. Whenever any of us young men glanced their way, never mind my father, the townspeople edged back. Pidila, I thought, but did not say. I knew it was not really true, but certainly it would be better if they learned not to show such obvious nervousness every time an Ugaro warrior turned his face their way.
“Well, Ryo, your people are intimidating,” Aras said, amused. “And the war is only just over, you know. I imagine they’ll calm down soon enough, as the inKera were apparently gentler with them than some of your people elsewhere. The gods guided me when I decided to spare Hokino and his people, that’s clear enough.” He gave me a close look. “Don’t fret, Ryo. You know Lau manners well enough. Stand up straight and look him in the face.”
Reminded, I said to my people, “We do not kneel. It is not expected.”
Aras added in taksu, “Ryo is correct: I will kneel, but none of you should. Please allow me to speak to my king first. It’s not something that can wait. Whatever happens, please believe that he understands the debt he owes your people. He will speak with you courteously and show you nothing but generosity. If some misunderstanding should arise, please be patient. He speaks taksu, but not fluently.”
I said, “I think we all understand, Lord Aras.”
“Yes,” he said. “I will also ask you all not to stare at Tasmakat-an any more than you can help. She won’t be offended, but she’s conceited enough already.” His tone was warm, not disapproving, and he added to me, “I think she’ll like your mother, Ryo.” And with only that much warning, he turned and led the way into the pavilion.
I said hastily, “He means there is a woman of the Lakasha-erra, of the country of the Son of the Sun. Try not to stare at her.” Then we were entering the tent, and it was too late to say anything else.
The pavilion seemed even larger from so close; the cloth even finer; the colors even more vivid. The summer king was alone except for the Lakasha woman, but no one could have mistaken him even in a crowd of Lau. As a king should be, he was very certain of his own authority. That would have been enough, even without the blue and gold of his clothing and the gold collar he wore, and the fine furnishings that filled the pavilion. He drew the eye even before the Lakasha woman.
Then Tasmakat-an caught the eye, and it was impossible not to stare. She was as much taller than a Lau as a Lau is taller than an Ugaro; and even more slender; a
nd where I could see it, her skin was so black it was like the starless sky. But she was swathed in a thick cloak of golden fur that hid everything but her long slender hands and her long graceful throat and her head, which was the chiseled, elegant head of a jackal, though not furred, but as smooth-skinned as her hands. Her ears were huge and upright, the edge of one pierced by many gold rings. Her skull was narrow and her muzzle sharp. Her eyes were large and oblique and had no white to them, only black against black. Perhaps the eyes of a jackal were like that; I had never seen one except in drawings, just as I had only seen Lakasha-erra in drawings.
It had never occurred to me I might ever see one of the jackal-headed people myself. Now I saw that a Lakasha woman could be as beautiful as an Ugaro woman or a Lau woman, even though she was so different. I had not guessed that from the drawings.
It took me at least a dozen breaths to make myself look away, glancing sidelong at everyone else to see how they were faring. I had at least seen the pictures, and I had recognized the name. I had thought no one could fail to stare, but I saw all the women had recovered more quickly than the men. My mother was looking at the Lakasha woman with calm interest. Darra’s expression was cool and remote, but my sister was smiling, tentative, but plainly longing to ask many questions. Tasmakat-an gazed back at Etta with her black, black eyes and smiled as a dog or a wolf might smile, her mouth open a little to show her sharp white teeth and her ears folded back in a friendly expression. I looked at Aras, but he did not seem concerned about the Lakasha woman at all. His attention was on his king.
The summer king had risen to his feet. He was older than my father. He might have passed through twice forty summers, or twice forty and ten, or more than that. With Lau it could be hard to judge. His hair was grey, his beard lighter grey, his eyebrows almost white, startling with his dark brown skin. He was not looking at us Ugaro. His attention was on Aras.
Aras moved forward three more steps and went to his knees, not in the Ugaro manner, but very upright, with his arms at his sides and his head up.
From the tales Aras had told me, I had expected a man both hard and ruthless. But I saw immediately that though the summer king might be ruthless or hard, he was not those things by nature, or not those things with Aras. He kept his face still, but he came forward and laid one hand on Aras’ shoulder and the other against his cheek. It was not an Ugaro gesture, but it was not possible to mistake it for anything but kindly meant. Especially when Aras closed his eyes and bowed his head. A tension I had not realized he carried eased away from him.
“Aras Eren Samaura,” the king said, his tone quiet.
“Soretes Aman Shavet,” Aras answered.
“It’s difficult,” said his uncle. “If there’s a single person anywhere in the summer country who doesn’t know now that you’re a powerful sorcerer, there won’t be in a month. Two at most.” He resumed his seat. He gave no sign for Aras to rise, and Aras stayed where he was. The king said, “No one has brought me a complaint against you, yet. But it’s certain to happen. How shall I answer that complaint?”
My mother had murmured a translation, and now my father said, his tone dry, “You should send that person to ask Koro inKarano, the winter king, for his opinion. You might say first that the winter king will take any blow struck against this sorcerer as though it were directed against himself.” My mother translated that as well.
The summer king looked at my father. After a moment he said politely, “I’m sure that’s good advice. I would be pleased to know your name and your tribe. I would be pleased to know you all.”
My mother smiled at him. She gave the names of all the men first because this was a moment for warriors. Then she gave the names of the women.
“An illustrious company,” observed the summer king. He said to Tasmakat-an, “No doubt you knew that.”
So did you, said the Lakasha woman. You did not need me to tell you these are all proud and important people.
I had known all the Lakasha-erra were sorcerers, but it had not occurred to me they spoke by sorcery, though I should have guessed it. Obviously that kind of mouth was not shaped for ordinary speech. Her sorcerous voice was as expressive as any ordinary voice: light and sardonic.
“True,” said the king. He said to Aras, “No doubt you knew the lord of the inGara would give me that advice.”
“Well, yes,” Aras admitted. “It’s been extremely clear in his thoughts; I could hardly have missed it. Your thoughts are much more difficult for me at the moment. I will accept your judgment, my king, whatever it is, but if you were to begin to make some decision that would unnecessarily make the trouble between the winter country and the summer country worse than it already is, I would strenuously object to that. I’m afraid a good many people are worried about that possibility, but I don’t believe it’s very likely.”
“No,” said the king. “I don’t think it’s very likely either.” He paused. Then he said gently, “Aras Eren Samaura, I am so very grateful you found a way to stop Lorellan. He could have done a great deal of damage to the summer country. What he did was bad enough. How many of my people are lying dead in the winter lands?”
“More than a thousand. I saved so few.”
“Those of us who survived, including me, you did save. Without your warning, the falling cold would have killed every Lau on that hill. Everyone knows it. You brought more than a hundred men back with you, I understand. How did you manage that?”
“Only by begging the Ugaro to protect those of our people that they could. You owe all those lives to the generosity of the Ugaro, not to me.”
“How did you ask the Ugaro to help our people, in that moment when the cold fell?”
Aras sighed. “You know how I asked. In the same way that I put into your mind that the cold was falling, so that you’d know to get clear. I think that’s the only oath I’ve broken. But I’ve put so many images into the minds of so many people, without the slightest pause to seek permission, to harm as often as to help ... I can’t begin to estimate how many times I’ve broken that one.”
“Yes,” said the king. He paused. Then he said, “In my judgment, every man who still stands among the living owes his life to you. Every man dead in the winter lands owes his death to Serat Aneka Tasaras, lord of Lorellan. Without your efforts, we would now be facing a much worse situation. I pardon you for everything you have done, and for everything you might have failed to do. I am exceedingly grateful you were willing to take the crime of oathbreaking on yourself in order to protect our people and defeat our enemy. For my part, I forgive it and I pray the gods will be generous. If anyone brings a complaint to me regarding your use of sorcery, I will hear them. If I think it fitting, I will provide recompense. I don’t intend to put that burden on Gaur. You may rise.”
Aras got to his feet. He said, “Thank you, my king.”
“I have no doubt of you,” the king told him. “You know that. Nevertheless, several intractable problems do revolve around you, I’m afraid.”
“I know. I don’t wish to complicate matters for you further than I already have. I could go to Gaur and stay there, if you prefer. Or I could go back into the winter lands. Though that would not be my first choice, especially in this season.”
“You survived ... what, fifty days in that country?”
“Something close to that, yes. Without the strenuous efforts of Ryo inGara and the generosity of the Ugaro, I couldn’t have survived one. It was a most humbling experience.”
The king considered him. The Lakasha woman wrinkled her muzzle and folded her ears back, exactly as a dog or a wolf will do when she laughs.
Aras smiled. “Yes, no doubt you’re both right. You probably have some idea how you’d like to handle this, Soretes. But if you prefer, my king, I could stay in the borderlands for some time while you consider what else to do with me. Someone needs to go east and west and be sure that everything Lorellan did here is put right. All the false memories he poured into people here should fade now that he�
��s no longer reinforcing them. But I’ve recently discovered that it’s possible to do so much sorcerous damage to someone that the unfortunate person is in serious danger of going mad—”
You did well in repairing the damage, Aras, Tasmakat-an broke in. Do you wish me to smooth out the fear that remains, or blur the edges of all the emotions attached to the memories?
I threw a fast, hard look at Aras, thinking very strongly that I did not want her to do anything of the kind.
The Lakasha woman said swiftly, Never without permission.
“For any Ugaro, you would need the individual’s permission, not mine,” Aras said in a mild tone. “You wouldn’t get it. They’re very slow to trust sorcerers.”
Not as slow as all that, said Tasmakat-an, her muzzle wrinkling again in amusement. And when they give their trust, they certainly seem to give it completely. Or that one does. I would like very much for you to show me all your memories involving recent events ... if you wish, and if the young man gives permission. She said to me, You will do very well as you are, but if not, I will show Aras what to do to help with the rest, and you may choose to permit him to do it or not, exactly as you prefer.
She was a sorcerer. She probably knew exactly what to say. But Aras did not seem concerned. I said, not very graciously, “I will remember.”
“In the meantime, if you don’t mind,” Aras said, somewhat forcefully, “One of us should make sure no one else has been left in that condition. Your assistance in coordinating our action against Lorellan was crucial, Tasmakat, and I thank you for that. I’d be even more grateful if you’d be so kind as to extend further assistance to remove any remaining influence he might have left behind in Avaras and in the south. But I don’t believe you would particularly care to remain in the borderlands.”
Tasmakat-an shuddered delicately. It is far too cold here, she agreed, tucking her long hands into the sleeves of her cloak.
“You have absolutely no idea,” Aras assured her. “Behave yourself, or I’ll show you those memories.”
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