“Don’t give her any–” Bar began as I knelt beside Arianne, sobbing in the dirt.
“–sympathy.” Bar sighed.
I gathered her close to my chest, her heavy mass of hair enclosing us both. Murmuring nonsense words of comfort in her ear, I rocked her tiny, shivering body back and forth. Tuatha, whining low, crawled into her lap. She clutched him tight enough to make him squirm and yelp.
“Come now,” I said softly. “He’ll find a mate, one who can give him what you couldn’t. Once he looks into her eyes, he’ll forget all about you.”
That brought a sharp snorting laugh from within the depths her tears. Pushing the heavy mass from her face, I lifted her damp chin to meet her swimming eyes. “He’ll forgive you, never fear,” I said. “You’ll always be his first love.”
Her sobs breaking amid sniffles and coughs, Arianne wiped her streaming face on her sleeve. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” I said, rising and hauling her to her feet with me. Tuatha, still captured in her arms, licked her neck. “I’m always right, you know. Now go back inside and clean up. After we break our fast with Li, I’m going to see Brother Lavi. I want you with me.”
She nodded, curtained by her midnight hair, and ducked under the tent flap Kel’Ratan politely held aside for her. Letting it fall behind her, he winked at me, yet his expression remained smooth and carefully blank.
Li took my hands within his strong, brown ones. “Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla, you are a woman fierce in her anger and more fierce in her love. Are you certain I cannot pry you from your prince?”
Silverruff growled. I shushed him with my hand to his muzzle, smiling up into Li’s laughing eyes. “My apologies, Clan Chief, but I am also fierce in my loyalty. I’ll never be pried from him.”
“He is a lucky man,” Li said, stroking his finger down my cheek. “Come, we must share salt once again.”
Gesturing for Rygel to get Arianne and follow, I permitted Li to take my arm. “Share salt? Your brother used that phrase.”
With the wolves tagging along, and Kel’Ratan and Corwyn at my back, Li led me toward his pavilion. Bar paced us, walking with a nonchalant air and gazing about the tribal camp a though quite interested in what he saw. His black-tipped lion tail lashed with more energy than nonchalance would allow. His ire was up and didn’t look to be coming down very soon.
The roiling dust from hooves and feet settled as the celebrants slowed their yips and wild shouts. Warriors walked their horses rather than galloped, still smiling as they compared Tor’s feat with their own first kills. Women and servants returned to their morning chores. Herd boys sent dogs after errant sheep, slapping long sticks against their bare legs. Camels raised heads with huge, brown doe-eyes, long lashes any girl would slay for, and spit their irritation at the commotion. Loose dogs approached as close to the wolves as they dared, barking.
“Yes, Ly’Tana,” Li said, finally shortening my title, “we tribal nomads center our culture around water and salt. Both are difficult to find in the vast desert, and neither a man can live without. We share salt with only our friends.”
“The laws of salt are inviolate,” Rygel said, surprisingly close.
I whipped my head around to see him just behind me, Arianne at his side. He, not she, carried Tuatha in his strong left arm, his right supporting her. Arianne offered me a wan smile, her magnificent grey-blue eyes weary but bright.
I returned her a quick grin before turning my attention to Rygel. “Illan is angry the Clan Chief offered us salt.”
“He wanted to see us turned away,” Rygel explained. “When Li offered the protection of camp and salt, he set his hand against you.”
“You cannot be slain, no matter what offense you might commit,” Li answered. “You accept salt, you are safe. The gods brook no breaking of the law of salt.”
“But–”
“A challenge of honor is not sealed under the laws of salt.”
“Makes me wonder if there’s another hand meddling,” Kel’Ratan ventured, his red brows furrowed. “Perhaps he/she/it planted the nonexistent insult in Illan’s head.”
“I can see it,” Rygel said. “Nothing else has worked thus far.”
My boys, on their horses and leading a saddled Mikk, galloped toward us. Mindful of the dust they kicked up, they stopped a short distance away to avoid cascading us anew with dirt and sand. They hadn’t just considered me, they’d also saddled Kel’Ratan’s bay and Rufus. While Rufus still owned his gemstone bridle, his gold caparison had vanished. He wore the fox fur and leather Kel’Hallan saddle Raine had used.
Tor, now grinning and full of new male pride, rode his grey mare with fresh assurance, his hand on his reins light and sure. Yuri and Yuras flanked him, as usual, grinning from ear to ear and cuffing Tor without cease. Left and Right scowled dangerously upon seeing how few men I had around me. As though I wasn’t protected enough by Bar, Rygel and all his power, Kel’Ratan, Corwyn, six wolves larger than ponies and a tiny but potent Tuatha.
“Gods above and below,” I swore. “I’m becoming seriously irritated with this moron.”
“Surely Brother Lavi can solve this,” Li said, extending his hand. “He is awaiting us.”
“Left and Right,” I snapped, commanding their immediate attention and stiff spines. “Why are you two not here guarding me? I might be killed at any moment.”
With quick salutes, they reined their black stallions in behind Kel’Ratan and Corwyn, Left, or was it Right? seized Mikk’s bridle from Witraz to drag him along. Left took Kel’Ratan’s bay in hand. Lightfoot and Dire, as silent as their twins, wagged brief tails to their comrades in greeting. With his reins on his neck, Rufus ambled toward Arianne, greeting her with a nudge to her cheek.
“Ah, where were we?” I asked Li, taking his arm again. “Oh, yes, taking one’s salt.”
Li’s wives and servants worked around a large fire before his pavilion, the aroma of roast lamb tickling my nostrils. My train of people, wolves, Bar, Shardon and horses caused no end of stares and pointed fingers. Dogs trailed behind, still barking, afraid to come closer. Children abandoned lessons and chores to pace us, shouting and calling questions we didn’t understand. This time, the wolves were not alone in the brave children’s quest to daringly touch; Bar was also so targeted.
“Ly’Tana,” he complained, when a strapping lad of about twelve stalked him, waiting for the moment of Bar’s inattention to rush in and tap him on the shoulder. “This . . . human is invading my personal territory.”
“Clan Chief Li,” I said.
He peered down, his brow quirked, furrowing his brow. “Yes, Ly’Tana?”
“While I understand your young men must prove themselves,” I said, gesturing subtly toward the boys. “They are irritating the wolves and Bar. Can you–er?”
Li scowled. Not at me, but at the long line of future warriors waiting their turn to show how brave they were. He barked harshly in his own language. Shocked, the young men gaped as they stared in consternation at their Clan Chief. One by one, they melted away, glancing back over their shoulders, kicking rocks and talking among themselves.
“My thanks,” I began.
“I must apologize,” Li said. “Again, my ways are not yours. They do wish to prove their courage. But to do so upon guests and friends is the worst sort of discourtesy.”
I smiled. “Guests of wolves and griffins are certainly not an everyday occurrence, sweet Li. I do thank you.”
“You are much too forgiving, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla.”
With the sun higher than I would have liked, Li at last sat back and sighed in contentment. “You must eat, little Ly’Tana,” he chided gently. “Or you will not have the strength to lead your tribe. Clan Chiefs must be strong.”
Though Li’s wives worked industriously to feed my band of warriors, wolves and a famished griffin, I only nibbled on a small hunk of cheese and a crust of bread. My gut roiled, needing not food but answers.
“Forgive me, dear L
i,” I replied, clasping his brown hand. “Please thank your wives for me, though I fear my appetite has fled. Until I know who is trying to kill me, then what good is food?”
“You are quite right.”
Li stood up and in his own dialect, courteously thanked his wives for their meal. They smiled and bowed, not just to their husband but to me as well. I curtseyed politely. I gestured toward the happy wolves and a satisfied Bar. “Thank you, your graces, for seeing to the needs of my folk.”
Li translated, bringing wider smiles and chatter in their language that blew right past me. I clapped my palms together in front of my chest and bowed to them. “May your gods favor you with good fortune and many children.”
Again, Li translated, his own grin open. His wives all but prostrate themselves at my feet, bowing and trying to imitate my curtsey. Baffled, I curtseyed again, wondering how long this would continue. Rygel stepped up to my ear.
“You just blessed them, Princess,” he murmured. “They think even more highly of you for having done so. Not many guests go so far as to bless them.”
“Just get us on the road to the monk,” I snapped under my breath, returning yet another curtsey to the happy women.
Fortunately, Rygel knew the intricacies of tribal appreciation. Halting, he spoke in their language, and gestured toward me. Li’s veiled and robed ladies nodded, their dark eyes shifting between Rygel, me and all the others in our party. With Li nodding to whatever it was Rygel said, Rygel managed to bring them to helpless giggles and go-away gestures. The pair laughed to each other and returned to their work of governing the servants into clearing the meal and the skeletal remains of ten sheep.
Li grinned. “Your healer has a gift of language,” he commented, steering me toward Mikk with his hand to my elbow. “He has charmed my women.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder. “Yes,” I replied. “He has some very interesting talents.”
I set Tuatha on the pommel of my saddle. Grabbing a double handful of thick black mane, I vaulted onto Mikk’s broad back. Li swiftly mounted his own small grey while Kel’Ratan, Corwyn, Left, and Right swung into their saddles. Rygel picked Arianne up by the waist, setting her onto Rufus before vaulting aboard Shardon.
My loyal three surrounded me; Silverruff on my right, Thunder on my left, and Digger beside Mikk’s head. I frowned, gazing at them. I glanced back at all the wolves: Nahar, White Fang, Little Bull, Dire and Lightfoot. Of course, Bar, striding just outside of Silverruff with his eagle’s eyes on me, cocked his head.
“What?” he asked.
“What is it?” Li asked at the same time, recognizing my hesitation.
I bit my lip. “What does Brother Lavi do for your people in return for his sustenance?”
“He brews talela,” Li answered, confused. “His talela is the best in the village.”
“I suspect so many visitors with griffins and wolves might cause the good brother to consume much talela,” I said.
Li glanced around, his brows hiked. “You may be right,” he said slowly. “Brother Lavi is a good man, but hardly a warrior.”
I snapped my fingers, twisting in my saddle. “All you wolves, except you, Silverruff, remain here. You, too, Bar.”
“I will not,” Bar hissed. “Where you go, I go.”
I turned on him, furious. “I will not have your presence cause the monk needless fear.”
I straightened, looking about me. A low line of dunes, sand shifting noiselessly down their flanks offered one huge griffin some cover. “Hide there,” I said, pointing. “Parallel us. You’re near but not so close you scare the poor man to death.”
“I’ll have you know–” he began, offended.
“Shut up and bugger off.”
Bar obeyed, trotting, wings half-furled and his lion tail lashing to the extreme, behind the covering dunes. Satisfied the rest would remain without objection, I gestured for Li to lead us. “Behind you, my dear Li.”
His white teeth in his dark face flashed a quick grin, but he offered no comment. Li nudged his grey into a lope. With Kel’Ratan on my right, Silverruff on my left, and Tuatha as ever on my saddlebow, I urged Mikk into line behind him. Arianne, Rygel and Corwyn followed while the twins brought up the rear.
Brother Lavi’s small tent sat by itself, like an abandoned pup, at the furthest southern end of Li’s broad camp. As it sat upon a shallow hill, he had an excellent view of the river valley and the village. A servant boy waited attendance, squatting patiently in the tent’s shade. A small but merry fire danced amid a circle of river stones, the odor of the monk’s breakfast of warmed bread and cheese still pervaded the air.
At the sound of hooves, a short man in homespun robes of tan and grey emerged from under the tent’s flap. A frayed white cord fastened the simple cloth to his thin frame, its tail dangling to his knee. While the priests who represented Nephrotiti to my people wore their hair as long as her warriors, Brother Lavi shaved himself bald. No tattoos, I observed with relief. He wiped his hands on a towel he then tossed inside his home, and stood waiting, expectant, his hands clasped before him.
Well behind his tent, three cauldrons over glowing coals belched out the noxious odor of half-cooked talela. Though the sour odor threatened me with a sneeze, Kel’Ratan and Silverruff openly gagged. It’s not that bad, I thought, ignoring the stinging in my eyes. Wooden barrels ranked in orderly rows behind the hide-tent fermented the already horrid mare’s milk into an alcoholic drink.
Before Li could offer assistance, I lifted my leg over my pommel, leaving Mikk to mind Tuatha, and slid to the ground. I adjusted my sword across my back and my dagger in my belt, stepping lightly and cautiously toward who I hoped was my savior.
Brother Lavi owned lovely hazel eyes and a pale complexion that refused to tan. Where the sun dared strike him, he turned a mild shade of pink. His bald pate gleaming under the sun, his pleasant, open expression turned to greet me kindly. Questions rose to his lips and hovered there, politely waiting.
I smiled in return, feeling relief that, Silverruff on my left and a brooding, frowning Kel’Ratan on my right, hadn’t disturbed Lavi in the slightest. A man at peace with the world around him and within himself.
As I drew close enough to offer him a tribal greeting, his eyes met mine. Instantly, his mild demeanor changed. His pink face drained of all healthy color. His pleasant hazel eyes widened in shock.
I hesitated. He stared at me as though I shifted shape from a woman to a daemon coughed from hell. His eyes bulging in his round, hairless head, the monk dropped to his knees. With his arms outstretched toward me in supplication, Brother Lavi fell headfirst, prostrate, in the dirt.
“Hail, Beloved,” he cried, his breath stirring the dust in brief bursts. “Hail, o beloved of the gods.”
Several long moments passed in which I tried to work words into my suddenly dry mouth. Opening and closing it did nothing to generate any sort of speech, coherent or otherwise. Fumbling about, I finally managed to squeak, “What?”
Kel’Ratan, his own blue eyes wide, his mustache flat for once, glanced from the prostrate monk and me and back again. Li, frowning, stood over Brother Lavi, his hand on his saber as though the monk had threatened me rather than all but offer me worship. Rygel, too, walked into my line of sight with Arianne beside him.
“What’s this?” Rygel asked. “Beloved?”
“I–I’ve no idea.”
The poor monk, looking as though he inhaled dust, at last moved me to find my tongue. “Please, good brother, cease this nonsense. Get up, I say.”
He rose, his robes, hands and face covered in sandy dirt. Flipping my fingers toward the grime encompassing his once pristine clothing, I said, “I pray you, good sir, tidy up. I had little idea you’d find dirt-diving appealing.”
His excellent white teeth gleamed in a flashing grin. “Forgive me, the shock of seeing you–may I–”
He turned and gestured toward his tent, “May I return inside and, er, tidy up?”
I nodd
ed, waving him off, my frustration and confusion mounting. With a quick bow, Lavi vanished into the depths. In un-Kel’Ratan like fashion, Kel’Ratan took my hand. “What’s going on here?”
Li shook his head. “This is most unusual,” he murmured. “Brother Lavi is the most sensible of people.”
Silverruff woofed. I glanced to Arianne for translation.
She shrugged. “‘The man is very happy’.”
“He is,” added Shardon, from his spot towering over Rygel.
My confusion intensified. What was going on here indeed?
“This is getting weirder by the moment,” Kel’Ratan muttered, cross.
Brother Lavi took less than four minutes to return, dressed in clean robes and his face wiped. This time, he offered me a traditional Mesaan bow, smiling.
“Forgive me, Beloved,” he said. “Where are my manners? Please, please, come sit. Please.”
Following his expansive gestures, I and Kel’Ratan gingerly sat on a wide log near his fire. Silverruff sat on the ground beside me, his muzzle on level with my face. Rygel, Arianne and Li also sat opposite, while Corwyn stood behind his charge, his hands behind his back at parade rest. Shardon, his mane cascading around Rygel’s shoulders, watched without speaking. Brother Lavi folded his legs on the ground before his tent flap and set his hands on his knees. Li remained standing near Lavi, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“May I offer you food, refreshment?” Lavi asked, glancing around, his head half-turned to call his servant.
“No, no,” I replied quickly. “Li’s wives are more than generous. I crave answers, good brother, more than anything else.”
“How may I serve you, my lady?”
Before I could speak, Kel’Ratan rushed in. “Why did you call her ‘beloved of the gods’?”
Lavi raised his brows, baffled. “Because she is.”
I choked on a short laugh. “Can you be more specific, please, Brother? I am not beloved of the gods.”
“Oh, but you are, my lady,” Lavi replied earnestly, gazing into my eyes.
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