by CJ Brightley
I nodded to Otso, and we went inside his tent to sign the final treaty. I’d almost expected something to go wrong at the last moment.
I presented him with wine, but he was eager to honor me now that we were signing the much-desired treaty.
He pressed the vile drink upon me despite my first refusal and drank himself, thinking that I mistrusted him. I finally drank a little to avoid offending him; that would hardly be a good start to negotiations. I didn’t fear poison; they had too much to gain through me and too much to lose by my death. I thought perhaps it wouldn’t affect me so much, since I was much stronger than the last time.
I expected him to sign with a smile, the quill was in his hand, but he stopped suddenly.
“I would ask a great favor of you before I sign.”
“What is it?”
“I ask that you take the first student now. You may choose your price for the cost of his food and lodging and for your trouble from my personal treasure. I ask that you take him to Stonehaven with you and keep him under your personal instruction. He should learn about your government, the structure and working of it, and the military code of honor. Your fighting arts. Whatever else you see fit to teach him. I want him to serve as your aloka.”
“What is an aloka?” I’d never heard the Tarvil word, but while the chief searched for an explanation in Common, Kyosti whispered in my ear.
“Sir, an aloka is a sort of apprentice, like an apprentice blacksmith or weaver. An aloka serves a Tarvil warrior, who acts as his sponsor and tutor. Competition for the positions serving the most renowned warriors is intense. He’s asking a great honor.”
I nodded, and addressed my next question to Osto. “Why to me?”
“He may be the next High Chief. His father died some months ago, in battle. He was nearly ready, but Elathlo is young.”
“His father was your son?”
“Yes.” There was grief in his eyes for only a moment. He was hardened, and sorrow isn’t something you show to an opponent. However friendly our exchange now, we were still opponents.
“You are chief. You could choose another who is already prepared.” At his sharp glance I added mildly, “It’s a lot of pressure for a boy. He may be happier with a simpler life.”
He straightened proudly. “He will not shirk his responsibility. He already has much support. His father was well-respected, and a strong warrior. Besides, it ss an opportunity to build friendship between our two nations.”
I wouldn’t have called the scattered Tarvil tribes a nation at all, but I nodded. “That may be so. I’d like to speak with him before I decide.”
In a few minutes he was ushered inside the tent. Pale, short and stocky, light brown hair with a reddish tint. The cut of his hair and the blue sash about his waist proclaimed his rank. His face was proud, but his eyes showed naked fear when he looked at me.
“How old are you?”
“Thirteen, sir.” He didn’t bow until Otso prompted him, and then he did hurriedly, as though he’d been so afraid he’d simply forgotten.
“What’s your name?”
“Elathlo, sir.” His Common was heavily accented but understandable.
“Do you want to go to Stonehaven?” It was unfair of me to ask him that while his grandfather watched. I wasn’t used to children then. Now I wouldn’t be so cruel.
He hesitated, glancing at the chief before answering almost in a whisper, “I do as Otso-ka wishes, sir.”
“He’s a good boy. Obedient and hardworking, with a quick mind.” His grandfather clapped one hand on his shoulder.
I studied the boy, who dropped his eyes to floor in respect and no little fear. “Look at me.” Pale blue eyes, intelligent enough. Terrified, but trying to hide it. If I towered over his grandfather, I must have seemed a giant to him. What would Hakan think of this? What would Riona think?
“How long?”
“I would ask you to take him a year, though if he disappoints you, you could of course send him back earlier.”
The boy drew a quick breath and bit his lip. An unpleasant prospect that would be, no doubt.
The silence drew out for a moment before I nodded. “Agreed. I’ll take him.”
The chief smiled in delight, but the boy bit his lip more fiercely, probably trying not to cry. Kyosti blinked in surprise but quietly added the additional provision to the treaty.
“What price will you take for his food and lodging?”
It was a great gesture of trust not to determine this before the agreement. Perhaps also a measure of his eagerness to have me take the boy.
“You asked it as a personal favor. I will take nothing. He will be my guest.”
The boy stared at me a moment from the corner of the tent before he slipped out, and the chief bowed low, though still with bad form.
“If it meets your satisfaction, we will deliver him to you tomorrow. He should have tonight to bid his family farewell.”
“Of course.”
We took the women back with us that night to our camp. Most of them preferred to ride alone, though at least one was quite terrified of her horse. I think she simply wished to not have a man’s body so close to her. I tried to be sensitive to such things. Several rode alone, several rode alone but with soldiers holding the reins of the horses, and a few rode behind suvari I selected. Most of the men were quite trustworthy, but I wanted men who also looked as gentle as possible.
It was not a long ride, but I expected the women were tired. Akio had some of the men construct a sort of privy, a small tent erected over a fresh new latrine for them. Women need privacy, especially in a camp full of soldiers. They were assigned two large tents, with men to stand guard at each corner. It did not need to be mentioned that harassment of them would not be tolerated.
When the Tarvil arrived the next afternoon, I was contemplating the wisdom of eating a bit of bread with some water to wash it down. Even the thought made me queasy. The Tarvil must have metal-lined stomachs. I’d been vomiting, or trying to anyway, at least twice an hour since the middle of the night. I vowed the education we’d promised them would include how to make a drink from something other than sour horsemilk. Grapes, barley, rice, anything would be preferable.
The boy had his own lanky horse, rawboned and skittish, which he rode well, and a pack on his saddle carrying what little he would bring with him. I thanked the men with him, and they nodded and rode away without a backward glance. The boy looked after them once, though, jaw clenched tightly and blinking a little, as if he was at the edge of tears.
I heard a few grumblings at his presence, but I led him to my tent first. “Make yourself comfortable. We will stay here tonight at least. Let me know if anyone troubles you.”
He kept his eyes down and nodded slightly.
“Look at me.”
He stared at me wide-eyed.
“You are my guest, and I command these men. You will inform me if anyone bothers you.”
He nodded.
“Excuse me.” I had to go outside to vomit again. Even water would not stay down for long.
“Sir?” It was Kudret. “Did you want to move out tomorrow?”
“Aye. Have the men get ready. Remind them also that Elathlo is my guest. He is to be treated with all due respect.”
He nodded. “Aye, sir.”
Elathlo was standing uncomfortably in the middle of the tent when I entered again.
“Don’t you have blankets and such?”
He ducked his head. “Yes, sir.” He pulled a single blanket from his pack.
“It’s a bit cold for one blanket. Is that all you have?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fine. You’ll take my bed. It’s over there. We’ll head south tomorrow morning.” I was a terrible host. I wanted to be kinder to the boy, but I didn’t really know how. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“No, sir.”
“Call me Kemen. We’ll be spending a lot of time together. I’d prefer to do it as friends.” I smiled at him
and took a sip of water. Would it stay down? I wondered for a moment. Then another sip. No, it would not. Even at the time I thought it rather funny. Undignified, but perhaps it helped him see me as I really am, every bit as frail as anyone else. I scarcely made it outside in time, leaning breathless with hands on my knees. I rinsed my mouth and spat out the water.
The boy’s eyes were wide. “Are you ill, sir?”
“Aye, a bit. Come, I’ll introduce to you to some of the men.”
He followed me quietly, bobbing his head in a decent imitation of an Erdemen bow.
“This is Toivo. He cooks for the officers. Stay on his good side and you’ll have a more pleasant journey.”
Toivo grinned. He has a good sense of humor, but he’s also a good man to have at your back in a tight spot. Handy with a sword and reliable. A good combination.
Elathlo’s question was so quiet I missed most of it, especially when Toivo shouted with laughter.
“What?” I asked.
The boy dropped his head and bit his lip.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you offended him, sir.” He regretted saying it, thinking I was angry, and I smiled as reassuringly as I could and clapped one hand on his shoulder.
“I did not. No, it isn’t his doing. When’s dinner?”
“Not long. Will you be eating any?” Toivo looked at me dubiously.
“I think not tonight.” I had to stop again, lean over and let my stomach determine if it had anything else to give up. It didn’t, though it tried valiantly. “You can send Elathlo’s dinner to my tent though.”
He nodded. “Aye, sir.”
“Why are you ill, sir?” Elathlo asked quietly.
“Kemen.” I corrected him with my eyes closed, still leaning over. Days without food are manageable, but lack of water affects the body more quickly. If I couldn’t keep water down soon, the journey back to Stonehaven would be more challenging. I couldn’t imagine how I survived it the first time, weak and sick as I was. Even when I was healing quite well, I was utterly, comically miserable.
“Kemen, sir.”
“It seems your chief’s idea of a good drink is a bit different than mine.”
He followed me back to the tent. I set up the low traveling table and a pallet for him to sit on for dinner, which came soon after.
“You’re not going to eat at all?” He poked at his stew cautiously.
“No. I doubt you have to fear the same reaction to our food though. It’s cooked well enough.”
“What is it?”
“Venison. Maybe some mutton, if there was any left.”
“It’s good.”
I grunted, though I didn’t mean to be rude. I let myself rest, head in hands and eyes closed. He was pleasant enough, eager to please and respectful. But what would Riona think? What would I do with the boy? Would he just follow me around? What would Hakan think?
“Sir? I mean Kemen. Should I take back the bowl?”
“Aye.” I walked him to the mess tent and then back through the fading light.
Kudret was waiting to change the bandage on my shoulder. When he asked if I was ready, he glanced at Elathlo, and I said that he could stay. I stripped off my shirt, sat on the floor of the tent with my legs crossed, and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. Kudret knelt behind me with the herbs and bandages on the low table beside him, the lantern close by so he could see clearly. I let my head hang down and closed my eyes while he peeled the old bandage away. I opened my eyes a moment and saw the boy’s feet move a bit closer as the bandage came off.
Kudret said very quietly in Common, “If you touch him, I’ll cut your hand off.”
“Kudret!” I spoke in Kumar, my voice sharp. “Elathlo is my guest, and I will not have him threatened.”
“Sorry, sir.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him bow a little as he spoke, in Kumar this time.
I sighed, and I felt Kudret begin to clean the wound, quiet and steady as he always is. “Thank you for your concern. But Elathlo didn’t do this.”
He hesitated and then said, “Can you be sure he means you no harm, sir? He is a Tarvil. Can you trust him while you sleep?”
“No one can ever be sure. All we can do is trust. If I wake up with a knife in my back, then you may have reason to mistrust him. Until then, I expect him to be treated as my guest. If not for his sake, then for mine.”
“Yes, sir.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
The wound was healing well. I’d spent almost a month in Stonehaven after the surgery, then three and a half weeks riding to Fort Kuzeyler and on to Izotz, then another three weeks between the parley with Otso and the signing of the treaty, for a total of nearly three months since the surgery. I was beginning to feel human again, aside from the illness from the Tarvil drink. My clothes still hung on me and I still couldn’t use my arm much, but I no longer used the sling at all.
“Kudret, Otso has no reason to wish me dead now, not by Tarvil hands anyway. They have too much to lose by my death. I don’t think you need to worry about him.”
“Yes, sir.” He spoke calmly, and I felt him relax a little. In a few more minutes, he was finished. I stood to bid him farewell, slightly dizzy with the lack of food and water, and I think he knew that when we clasped arms to bid each other goodnight. He asked me if I needed anything, but there was nothing he could do, and he bowed deeply on his way out.
I pulled the top blanket from my pallet and replaced it with Elathlo’s. It would be a bit of familiarity for him at least. Thirteen is very young. I entered the king’s service at fourteen, and though my skill was more than adequate, I wouldn’t have minded another year of childhood. I couldn’t blame the boy for his nerves. At least his Common was good; we wouldn’t have too much trouble communicating.
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I hope you’ll forgive me if I turn in early.” I spread my blanket on the ground. “Do you need anything? There’s water in the canteen there if you get thirsty.”
“Thank you, sir. Kemen.”
“Blow out the lamp whenever you want.” I fell asleep quickly, though I didn’t sleep well. I woke from thirst sometime when the moon was high and managed to keep a few sips of water down.
We woke early, and my attempt at breakfast was unsuccessful, though I did manage to keep a bit more water in me at least. Akio looked after the women, made sure they had breakfast and water to wash with if they wanted. I was more than grateful to hand over that duty to him. Soon I’d be riding toward Stonehaven. Riona’s smile beckoned, and I dozed in the saddle when my stomach would allow it. They ate lunch still riding, though I decided against it. I was half-dreaming of Riona, how she would smile at me, the way she walked, when Elathlo spoke for nearly the first time all day.
“Was it really the alamaa that made you so sick?”
“The drink your grandfather gave me?”
He nodded.
“Aye.”
“Why did you drink it?” He seemed utterly baffled. “Didn’t you have it last time, when you signed the truce?”
“Aye. I didn’t wish to insult your grandfather. The treaty benefits us both too much to cause needless offense.”
He bit his lip but ventured, “You might have told him it would make you ill.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Would he have believed me?”
He frowned. “Probably not.” Then he smiled tentatively. “A high price for a treaty, isn’t it? Was it worth it?”
“We’ll see. I hope so.”
35
Riona
Lani’s first time serving refreshments at a ball wasn’t going especially well. She was nervous, and had already nearly dropped one tray of pastries when some duke elbowed her accidentally. All the same, I didn’t expect what happened.
I carried a tray of wine glasses, and Lani followed me with a tray of cheeses on miniature bread slices as I wove through the crowd. I saw Lady Grallin out of the corner of my eye, speaking to one of her friends, Lady Ilara. I offer
ed her the wine, and she traded her glass for a new one.
Lady Ilara said to Lady Grallin, “It’s a shame Sendoa isn’t here.”
“Why?”
“I thought you liked him.”
“I like the way he dances.” Lady Grallin’s voice was snippily condescending, and I bit my tongue.
Lani smiled sweetly at them and offered the tray of cheeses.
Lady Grallin said, “He’s in the north again.”
“Pity, isn’t it?” Lady Ilara eyed her friend with a bit of what I took to be sympathy.
“Not really. That’s what Dari dogs are for. It’s what they’re good at. The pity is, it’s all they’re good at.” She took a sip of wine.
I barely suppressed the desire to spill the entire tray of wine glasses down her dress.
Lani flushed to the roots of her hair. “Lady Grallin.” Her voice was shaking, and I reached for her sleeve.
Lady Grallin’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Yes, girl? You wish to say something?”
“He’s an honorable man, and - “ Lani didn’t finish.
“He’s a dog. I’ve turned down five proposals in the past year, and when he was in Stonehaven he didn’t even come visit, although I did invite him.” She was seething, and even her friend Lady Ilara’s eyes widened. “I invited him for tea, and he didn’t even send his most humble and respectful regrets. Of course,” she sniffed, “I should have known as much. A dog can’t be expected to act like a man.”
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I reached for Lani’s arm again. She was shaking, and she pulled away from me.
“He’s not a dog! He’s the best - “
Lady Grallin slapped her hard across the mouth with a resounding crack. Lani’s tray clattered to the floor, cheeses flying everywhere. She staggered and then straightened, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping open in shock.
Lady Ilara pulled on her friend’s arm. “Come, Melora, let’s go.”
Everyone in the room was looking at us.
“You can have him if you want him, girl. It would be fitting, a servant and a dog.” Her mouth twisted. I swallowed hard. That was what I feared most, shaming him before the world when he deserved nothing but honor.