“I think I understood most of it,” he told me in taksu. “Your people are so much more violent than Lau, and then suddenly so much more generous. I understand what concerns you.”
“You did not mean suddenly. I think you meant unexpectedly.”
“Oh, yes, that’s what I meant. Ryo, it’ll take a long time to round up all those people. He’ll have time to think.”
“Perhaps that may be so.” I did not believe Aras was thinking now. I thought he was telling himself he had no choices, and I thought he would say that over and over to himself until he made it true. I did not say that. I wished very much I could ask my father for advice. Or better still, my mother. A problem having to do with honor should be laid before a respected man to solve, but a problem having to do with custom should be laid before a woman, especially a singer.
I wondered what Darra inKarano would have said on the matter. As the daughter of a king, she might have a different opinion about what was right to do when someone tried to murder a king.
In the distance, not close, wolves sang. I turned my head, listening. Their voices rose up into the sky, long cries at first and then shorter and deeper in pitch. Five wolves, six, seven. More than seven. At least eight. That was a strong tribe of wolves. It made me feel better to hear them.
“Wolves never attack Ugaro, right?” Suyet asked me. “How about a Lau who’s with an Ugaro?” He was smiling, but he was nervous too.
“No,” I told him. “They will probably hunt to the north and east. There are creeks there, and meadows, and young trees of the kind the small deer like to browse. The hunting will be better that way. But even if they came to this place, wolves would not be dangerous to a Lau who was with me.”
“Good to know.” He handed me two of the cakes. “Can I ask you something, Ryo? It might be offensive.”
I thought I knew what he wanted to ask. I said, “I think you may want to speak in taksu for this question. Recently someone said something regarding wolves that offended me. I do not think it is possible to be that offensive in taksu.”
He took some time over it. Finally he said, in taksu, “I know Ugaro approve of the white tigers and the small lions and the great bears. But wolves are the only ones Ugaro say are their cousins. I would like to know why Ugaro say this, if it is not impolite to ask.”
“That is not at all impolite,” I told him approvingly. “You asked that very well. You did not mean approve of. I think you meant respect.” The words were similar.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Respect.”
“It was still well asked. No one could be offended. We respect wolves because they are like us. They are children of the Moon, as we are, and sing to her as we do. They live in tribes that are families, as we do; and they care for each other, as we do; and they defend their lands against any trespass, as we do. But that is not why Ugaro and wolves each agree we are cousins and do not hunt each other. There is a story that explains that. I will tell it to you if you wish.”
“Yes, please, Ryo.”
I leaned against a convenient stone, looking up at the sky. The Moon was brighter now, though still turned partly to the far north. I wondered what might be happening there that had drawn her notice. Some of the early stars had come into the sky, brighter than usual, so I thought they too might be attending closely to the lands of the world. Across the river, the Sun had almost touched the far edge of the world; his light streaked the sky lavender and soft red. Some of that color was in the sky of the winter country too. It was a beautiful evening. Suyet lay back on his blankets and folded his hands behind his head, preparing to listen.
I said, “I will tell you this story in taksu, but tell me if you do not understand something and I will explain it. This happened long ago, so I will tell you how my people tell it, but perhaps not exactly as it happened. A boy was lost in the forest, a young child, too young, four winters, maybe five. He ran away, playing some game perhaps, and he could not find his way back, and his people could not find him. Sometimes this happens, and of course it is very bad. If the child is older, if it is the warm season, perhaps he will live and not die, but this happened in the middle of the long cold.”
Suyet propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me. “That’s not a very good beginning to this story, Ryo.”
“Be patient. The boy walked and walked, calling out for his mother, for his brother, for his father, but he went the wrong way. The tribe had been traveling, and he did not know the land there. He ran to get warm and then burrowed into the snow for shelter when he was too tired to run any more. He ran too far and burrowed too deeply. His people searched and searched, but they could not find him. His brother searched for a long time, but he could not find him either. Finally they knew he must have died and so they mourned and went on the way they had been going. But the boy had not died. He walked and walked, and then he came upon wolves.”
“Ah hah,” said Suyet. “I’m guessing they didn’t tear him to pieces and eat him.”
“They did not,” I agreed. “These were strong, brave wolves. Their tribe was strong, and of course wolves love the cold and the snow. They had killed one of the great deer and eaten all they wanted, so they were not hungry. Now they were playing and resting. The boy thought the wolves might kill him, but he thought they might not and he was too hungry and too tired to go farther. So he crept out to them, crawling on his hands and knees to show that he knew he was trespassing on their land. The lord of the wolves came and looked at him, and the other wolves came and looked. They saw he was a child. Wolves are generous to their young. They were generous now. They let him take meat from their kill—”
“Raw.” Suyet made a face.
“If you were hungry enough, you would be glad to eat meat raw. This boy was too young to make fire from nothing, so yes, the meat was raw, but it was food and he was grateful for it. He was very tired and very cold—even we Ugaro feel the cold sometimes—so he crept in among the young wolves and went to sleep. The mother wolf came and looked at him sleeping with her own children and her heart was moved to pity. By then the Moon had risen into the sky, and the mother wolf sang to her, a prayer for her to be kind. The Moon heard the mother wolf’s prayer. She leaned down and touched the boy, and when he woke, he was a young wolf, with strong legs and warm fur and sharp teeth.”
“I think I saw that coming,” said Suyet. “I don’t think I know prayer.” He sat up to poke at the fire.
“Prayer,” I said in darau.
“Oh, that makes sense. Well, that’s a good ending, though it’s sad the boy’s people didn’t know he hadn’t died after all.”
“That is not the ending. Let me tell you the rest.” I switched to taksu again. “For many years the boy lived as a wolf among wolves. When he was a lord of wolves himself, ruling his own tribe of wolves, he came one day upon three girls of his own people, his first people. That tribe had been traveling through that land and these girls had gone to find berries, which should have been safe, but a white tiger was hunting there.”
“Ouch. How many wolves would it take to face down a tiger?”
“No number of wolves could do it. The white tiger is the king of the forest. He stalked these girls. They did not know he was there, but the wolves did, because wolves always know where the tiger is hunting. They are too wise to challenge him, but they watch where he goes. But this wolf put himself between the girls and the tiger, and the girls ran away, and the tiger did not know whether to chase the girls or punish the wolf, so he hesitated. Before he could decide, warriors came, answering the cries of the girls, and the tiger may be king, but he does not like arrows, so he changed his mind and went away to hunt somewhere else.”
“Brave wolf. Brave warriors.”
“Everyone was brave that day. The wolf looked at the warriors and saw his own brother standing there, now a grown man. The warrior looked back at the wolf. He knew a wolf does not challenge the white tiger, certainly not to protect human girls, so he looked hard. He saw his brother behind the
eyes of the wolf. He went back to his tribe and told them what he had seen, and the wolf went back to his tribe and told them the people were his own. After that both Ugaro and wolves knew they had become cousins. That is why we are kind to one another.”
Suyet nodded. “That’s a good story. We call that kind of story, the kind that didn’t really happen, a folk tale.”
“It might not have happened exactly that way,” I told him. “It was a long time ago. But something of that kind did happen, or we would not tell the story. You should remember that wolves agree Ugaro are their cousins. We do not hunt them, but they do not hunt us either. If I saw a starving wolf, I would shoot a deer for him. If I were starving, I could go to a wolf kill and take some meat and the wolves would not try to prevent me. I have heard of such things happening.”
He tilted his head. He did not believe me, but he did not disbelieve me either. He said, “I expect if I were starving and tried to take meat from wolves, it wouldn’t work out the same way.”
“I would not suggest a Lau try that,” I agreed. I lay down on my back and listened to the wolves. They were farther away, not really hunting yet or they would not have been singing. There were at least nine. I said, “Thank you for coming with me tonight, Suyet. I would not ... I thought at first I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong.”
Suyet got to his feet and put more wood on the fire. Then he lay down again, looking at the sky and not at me. He said, “I think you should trust Lord Gaur. He’ll do the right thing.”
“The right thing for his uncle? Or the right thing for himself?”
“I hope he’ll find a way to do both.”
I hoped that too. But the way Aras had explained it to me, I could not see any way in which he could do something that would be right in both ways. I was silent for a little while. Then I said, “You should tell me a tale of the summer country. A folk tale. Something that did not really happen, or that you think did not really happen. Something with a kind ending.”
He smiled. I saw his teeth gleam in his dark face. “I can do that. Let me think.”
In the morning, I went with Suyet back to the barracks. I did not go to the house to find Aras. I was not certain what he was doing or thinking. I did not want to know, in case I argued with him. Arguing with a man too much will make him think he must hold tight to his first opinion. So I stayed with Talon Commander Sharet’s soldiers in their barracks.
The talon commander did not comment about this. He told me to go to the training yard and had me wrestle and then fight some of his men, the younger ones who had never fought Ugaro warriors. Wrestling is more like a game; fighting is more dangerous, even when knives are not involved. Someone can get hurt fighting even with empty hands, but it was not likely to be me, not against young men like these, and I was used to being careful when fighting young Lau. It was good for them to fight me. Fighting an Ugaro is not exactly like fighting another Lau, and the difference surprises them at first. They have to learn how hard an Ugaro warrior is to knock down and how difficult he is to keep down. They think they know how much stronger an Ugaro is, but they seldom truly understand that until they feel it for themselves. Their long limbs give them important advantages, but at first they do not know how to use that.
Eventually they learn how to do it. After he had watched me embarrass five young men in a row, Laraut, a man of Esau’s file, challenged me. He beat me twice. We had been learning from each other for a long time. The third time, I pinned him with his face in the dirt. He knew better than to keep fighting when I had him down, but he tried several things that might have worked if his opponent had been a Lau, to show the young men that none of those things worked against me. When he finally yielded, I helped him up and he clapped me on the back and said to the young men, “See what happens if you don’t use the leverage the gods gave you? Let an Ugaro get you down and you’ll never get him off. Too much weight and way too much muscle. Ryo hasn’t even got his growth. In five years, I won’t be able to put him in the dirt very often. In ten, not even Esau will have an easy time putting Ryo down.”
I smiled and told the young men, “Laraut is right. Fighting an older warrior is not like fighting me. A man ten years older than I am will weigh more than I do, and he will be stronger. You should ask Esau what happened when he taught my brother to wrestle. You must stay back and not let an Ugaro get inside your reach. With your long limbs, a blow has more force than your strength alone could give. You should use that. But it is hard to be fast enough, so you must practice for that speed.”
“We aren’t going to fight Ugaro hand-to-hand!” one of the young men protested.
“How do you know?” Laraut asked him. “I did once, and I’m still here to talk about it. Sneaky bastards come right out of the dark at you sometimes, on either side of the river. No offense meant, Ryo.”
“I take no offense. When did you truly fight an Ugaro warrior? How did you beat him?”
“Before your time. I was hardly older than this lot. I’ll tell you about it.”
Laraut bought everyone thin ale at the tavern in the middle of Tavas Sen and told stories about raids and battles and different kinds of trouble he had seen in his years with Lord Aras. I listened for some time and then, as the slow dusk approached, I stood up and walked back to the barracks.
The barracks was a large building, shaped like three sides of a square, with many windows on the outside and few on the inside. To one side, a big earthen yard stretched out. This was for training; that was where we had been fighting earlier. The stables stood past that, with wide pastures beyond for the horses. There were pastures on three sides of the barracks because the talon kept many horses. Sometimes they needed to travel fast and besides that the soldiers were trained to fight from horseback, with long spears and bows and sometimes a longer, heavier sword than the kind Lau use when fighting in their formations. I had learned a great deal about how Lau fight in the past year from watching this talon and other talons train, though there had been little fighting anywhere in the borderlands except sometimes against bandits. Soon this talon would probably go somewhere else, farther south. Among the Lau, small wars are common between one county and another, and even though Lord Aras could not leave the borderlands now, he might send his talons here or there to help deal with some problem.
The courtyard inside the arms of the barracks was for the women. That was cobbled. There were fountains there so that no one had to carry water from the river. There was a different fountain for the men, who did not go into the women’s courtyard. It was not until I had seen the structure of these kinds of buildings that I had realized how separately most women live from men among the Lau. I knew more of these customs now, but the separation still seemed very strange to me.
Many women were in the courtyard now, preparing food to take to the men. Some of these women were true wives, those the soldiers call jewel wives. Others were daughters of the soldiers. But most were talon wives. Ordinary troopers did not marry, but almost every file had a talon wife who took care of the soldiers, doing many of the tasks a wife would do. There is nothing like a talon wife among Ugaro, and I had never become accustomed to the idea, but those among them whom I knew best did not seem to mind it. I was not entirely confident I knew their true opinion, however. Lau women, especially those who have not come to their age, seldom speak freely to a man.
No other men came into the courtyard because the Lau consider this impolite. But the custom of men living apart from women was nothing I could take seriously, so I came through the courtyard when I wished. When I came there now, many of the women called out or waved to me. They were much more reserved in public, but this was their place and they did not take the same quiet manner here, or with me. A young woman named Sarai waved to me and called, “Ryo! Come lift this pot off the fire, please!” She was a jewel wife, the wife of one of the commanders for the talon, and so an important woman despite her youth. Among the Lau, a man does not speak to a married woman unless he is her close kinsman,
but this again was a custom I could not much regard and that the women of the talon did not much regard with me.
Sarai wanted to shift one of the very big pots in which the women cooked the cracked wheat and lentils that the Lau eat in great quantity. When a pot like that is full of cooked grain, two women together can barely lift it. I picked the pot up and carried it to the place Sarai wanted it, and then I lifted a barrel of ale to a low bench where it would be easier to tap. Sarai handed me a mallet, so I tapped the barrel for her. Then I did a few other things as one woman or another requested. The courtyard was hot because it gathered heat during the day and because of all the cooking the women did here. I did not comment about that, but a girl named Saheri, of about ten summers, a soldier’s daughter, brought me a dipper of water from one of the fountains and a cup of thin ale. I thanked her for her kindness, poured the water over my head, and drank the ale. She was nearly as tall as I was, but delicate as an aspen leaf. Lau children have no weight to them. I carried a pot across the courtyard for her and poured the cream it contained into another pot.
“Ryo!” called another voice, and I turned, unsurprised.
This was the reason I had come through the women’s courtyard. This was Lalani, who was the talon wife of Esau’s file. I knew I should have come to see her earlier than this, but I had forgotten to do it before I went across the river the previous evening and I had been too much occupied all day—or she had been, at the times I looked for her. Now, as she came up to me, I asked her, “Did Esau tell you anything?”
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