Davon wasn’t convinced, and after the Aua’Catan had left them to themselves, Arianne shot him a meaningful look.
“You don’t believe them either,” she said. “I can tell.”
Davon shook his head. “I don’t. They dismissed what happened too easily. I think they’re hiding something, but since you and I have just recently progressed from reviled outsiders to barely tolerated guests, I think we shouldn’t press the matter further tonight.”
The cold deepened as the night took hold, and Davon rubbed his hands together. “Should we move closer to the fire, Arianne?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, opening the hide blanket and inviting him in. “It is more peaceful back here and I need to think. Is there any way we can help protect the Aua’Catan from the Creetisians?”
Davon scooted closer to her and wrapped the hide around his shoulders. “I don’t think so. If they remain hidden up here, they should do well. If we stationed guards or started commerce with them, it would just lead the Creetisians to them. If the Creetisians ever found Jun’Kal, I would rush to the Aua’Catan’s aid. I think I would be a much better King of Jun’Kal than I will be of Bittermarch. You do promise to force me into the outdoors from time to time, don’t you?”
“Yes, Davon,” she said, “we’ve been over this. I will go with you, and I will wear these delightful pants. You men have been quite sneaky in hiding their usefulness from us all these years.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think we are the ones that would object if women took to wearing pants or have been the ones concealing their usefulness.”
“Oh really,” Arianne replied, voice teasing. “I wonder why that is?”
Something cold tickled Davon’s nose and he looked up. Flurries of snow drifted down from the blackness above them, spinning in the warm light of the fire. All at once, the entire company of Aua’Catan rose up and cheered, jumping, singing, and dancing.
Arianne stiffened, face troubled. “What happened? Why are they celebrating?”
“It’s the first snow of the season,” Davon explained.
“They celebrate the arrival of snow?” she asked. “I can hardly abide winter. The Wasting Wind is awful.”
“I doubt they like the winter much either, especially up here, but the first snow is special to them. It’s how they marry.”
Arianne cocked her head. “How they marry?”
“Well, when two people are in love, they declare their marriage—their bond, as they say it—by sleeping together in the same tent on the night of the first snow. Tonight, as it turns out.”
“And that’s it?” Arianne said. “No ceremony or words or dinners or parties? Just sleeping in a tent together?”
“Not exactly,” Ki said, having approached unseen from the side. Davon wondered how long she had been listening. It was good to see her playfulness returning.
“How so?” Arianne pressed.
“Well, there is more than sleeping, Queen Arianne,” Ki explained, grin mischievous. “It is like your wedding and—what do you call it?—honeymoon?—rolled into one.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, the corners of her lips sliding upward. “It all sounds very…uncomplicated.”
“Yes,” Ki returned. “We explained this to the Brown Man earlier. You should bond her tonight, Brown Man.”
He coughed. “I, uh, well, that is not the way my people do things.”
“You are not among your people. You are with the Aua’Catan, and tonight those who love come together and bond.”
“But I don’t have a dwelling,” he said, mind hunting for some way to change the subject.
She laughed. “Yes, you do! We have always kept a dwelling for the return of the Khodo Khim. It is quite nice, fit for a man and his Queen. Look, Brown Man, I will pass on to you the wisdom of the Aua’Catan.” She bent down and took his face in her hands. “It is folly to remain cold when there is a fire to be made. You have won the war I saw inside you. Take the spoils.”
Ki walked away, throwing him a teasing look. Davon shook his head. Such an odd people with strange ways. He turned toward Arianne to tell her has much, but she was staring up at him with the blush of the firelight on her cheeks, the light dancing in her eyes. She kissed him.
“I have been cold for so long, Davon Carver. I don’t want to be cold anymore.”
More from Brian K. Fuller
The Trysmoon Saga
In the mood for epic fantasy? Check out The Trysmoon Saga, a complete four book fantasy series available on Amazon.com. Audio books available on Audible!
And for something completely different
The Pet Assassin, a modern satire sure
to tickle your funnybone.
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