Tarashana

by Rachel Neumeier

  Rakasa shrugged, looking at Bara. To Ugaro, this was not an important question. He would not have counted the days.

  Bara said, “More than three twenties of days. Maybe four twenties of days. We brought two ponies each so that we could ride fast.”

  Aras said, his tone neutral, “This is indeed a long journey. Well. Have you have seen this Tarashana woman? Will you tell us about that?” Avila was not an entirely respectful term; it is a word we use for people who farm and have no cattle or horses. It means dirt people. Aras used the name those people called themselves.

  This time Rakasa’s shrug meant he did not know what to say. “That land is ... it is very empty. It is a sad place now. No one is there. The places the avila used to live lie empty. Their fields lie fallow and abandoned. We rode some days, west and then north and then east and south again, but all the land was the same: beautiful and gentle and peaceful and empty.”

  Bara nodded. “Few of us had been there before, but Garoyo said the sky made him uneasy. He said when he was there, five winters ago now, the avila were already gone then, but the uncounted stars filled all the vault of the heavens. Now, to the north, there is nothing. The sky is dark that way. Not dark as though clouds had come between the earth and the vault of the heavens. Dark as though the heavens were empty. Garoyo was not alone in finding the sight of that sky uncomfortable. I felt as though if we rode too far north, we might come to the edge of the world and fall off.”

  “We all felt uneasy,” Rakasa put in. He was not joking now. Both of them had become serious. “No one wanted to ride beneath that starless sky. No one wanted to come near any place where that sky might rule. Garoyo had intended to press much farther, deep into the starlit lands, but after we saw the dark sky, he changed his mind. No one argued otherwise. We were all glad to turn back toward the pass.”

  Aras asked, frowning “How many days' travel had you gone when you saw the empty sky?”

  The two inGeiro looked at one another. Rakasa shrugged, and Bara said, “We rode ten days, twelve, before we came far enough to see that. We pressed our ponies' harder when we returned. That was five days' ride.”

  “Five and half another,” Rakasa agreed. “Even when the black sky was no longer visible, no one wanted to linger.”

  “Yes. But at some time before you came back to the mountains and entered the pass, this Tarashana woman saw you and followed.”

  “An avila woman would never have been able to keep our pace,” Rakasa corrected him. “I think she knew we had entered her country, and hid herself near the pass to follow when we returned to our own. She tried not to be seen or heard, but Garoyo knew someone followed us.”

  “Did you know?” I asked him, mocking because from the way he said that, I knew he had not.

  Rakasa made a disgusted gesture. “I thought the feeling that something followed us came to me because the emptiness of the starlit country was so uncomfortable. I thought it was a feeling born of shadows and mist. Your brother was wiser. He said some of us should go on, talking and maybe quarrelling in loud voices. Some of the others did that, but Garoyo and Bara and I and three of the other warriors waited quietly for whatever was following. This woman came.” He paused again, opening his hands, searching for words. He and Bara exchanged a glance, so that I understood they did not know how to describe this woman. I wondered what Aras saw in their thoughts.

  Rakasa said finally, “She was so small, and so very frightened.”

  Bara nodded, picking up the story. “She is very strange, Ryo. Lovely, but strange. She has made designs on her face and on one of her hands, as the avila do, but neither your mother nor Rakasa’s mother nor the oldest singers of either of our peoples could say what those designs might mean. No one recognized those patterns.”

  Rakasa said, “Never mind the patterns, Bara!” He went on. “The tales we tell of the avila are true, Ryo: she shines with her own light when the light is dim, and her eyes are as changeable as the sky.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I have heard so.”

  “Of course you have; everyone has heard this is so, but it is different when you see it yourself. When she is afraid, her eyes become very pale, the color of the winter sky at dawn. The color is darker when she is less afraid, but I do not know what color her eyes might be if she were happy.”

  Bara picked up the tale again. “We did not need to think of tales of the avila to understand that this woman was afraid of us, but much more afraid of something else, something in the starlit lands. That was perfectly clear. We brought her into the winter lands, taking it in turns to carry her when the way became too difficult. We thought she might speak to the women even if warriors frightened her too much. But she did not say anything, even in the avila tongue. She would not speak to your mother or to Rakasa’s mother or to anyone. We decided maybe she cannot speak.”

  Rakasa touched the letter I still held. “So your mother wrote that letter.” He turned back to Aras. “Will you come? This avila woman is too frightened. The foremost singers of the inGeiro and the inGara, and the warleaders and the lords of the tribes, agree it would be good to know what frightened her and what happened to her people.”

  “I certainly agree this is a curious story.” Aras was silent for some time, running one hand slowly along the gold spiraling around his scepter. Finally he said, “I could write to my king and ask what he would prefer me to do. It would take several weeks or a month for that letter to reach him and as long again to receive a response. If I’m going to go, I’d rather not wait. The summer’s already well advanced in the winter country as it is.”

  I had not thought of that, though I should have. “Even if we leave at once, the warm season will be ending by the time we come to the mountains.”

  “Yes, exactly, so if I’m going at all, I’d far rather leave immediately; we’d have reasonable weather for the entire journey north, at least. The journey back ...” he made a face. “It’s possible I’d have to ask your people for shelter through the whole of the long cold and let the return journey wait until spring.”

  “We would make you comfortable. We could put a shelter inside another shelter, as we do sometimes when someone is very ill and suffers from the cold. But,” I had to admit, “you would probably be pent very close for a long time.”

  “Yes, it’s something to think about. I have to admit, Soretes would have every reason to be irate with me if I disappeared into the winter lands for most of a year without asking leave to go. On the other hand, I’m not much good to him now anyway, not until he decides it’s possible to recall me from the borderlands. There are any number of serious problems I should be dealing with farther south, but here I am. Stepping out of reach for some time might possibly prompt one or two troublesome factions to reassess the use he’s making of me. He might well find that useful.”

  I said, “Perhaps, as this is so complicated, you might do best to make your own decision in the matter.” I thought, with some force, that there were other important decisions he should make for himself as well.

  He pretended not to see that thought in my mind, saying merely, “That could be a defensible position. Though if some powerful sorcerer begins causing trouble somewhere else, he’ll need me. In fact, now that I think of it, he may well be waiting for that kind of problem to occur; that would give him an excellent reason to recall me. If something like that happens and I’m not here to be recalled ... that could be awkward.” He tapped his scepter into the palm of his other hand. “Still. I’m inclined to write to Soretes, point out that he’s been hoping for a chance to make amends to your king for the problems Lorellan caused, and let him know that I’ve gone to do that. I believe that would give him adequate reason to forgive me for taking such broad action. It’s a bit tricky. It’s not entirely legal for me to lay aside my scepter, but your mother’s right: I definitely can’t enter the winter country as a scepter-holder of the summer king without Koro inKarano’s explicit permission to do so.” He paused again, then sighed. “I’ll have t
o think about this. Trooper Rasas, please inform Talon Commander Sharet that I would like to see him immediately after breakfast tomorrow. Trooper Eroen, if you would kindly give the same message to Talon Commander Talat. Trooper Suyet, the same message, if you please, to Troop Leader Geras.”

  My guards all murmured my lord and hurried away—leaving me. I was not supposed to go about the town alone. No one considered this as important now as it had been: there were so many soldiers here, and so much time had passed since Lorellan had made trouble between Lau and Ugaro, that there was little chance any Lau in Tavas Sen would insult or attack me. The chance was even less that I would be forced to disobey Aras by injuring or killing a Lau. But the command still stood. Aras was either so distracted he had forgotten that, or he wanted me to stay here for this night. I said to Rakasa and Bara, “I will show you a place in this house where you may sleep. You will find it interesting.”

  “We will indeed,” Rakasa agreed, pleased. They were the sort of young men who were always interested in new adventures.

  “You can tell me more of the starlit lands and this avila woman,” I told him, not looking at Aras. “I would be interested to see that person and that country for myself.”

  “Yes, I already know your opinion, Ryo,” Aras told me. “Go away, and try not to dream too loudly. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  Two days later, it was decided: Aras would go into the winter country and see what he could understand about the avila and the starlit country. By the time he announced it, no one was surprised. By that time, everyone knew he wished to do it. The arguments in favor were good enough that his talon commanders had ceased arguing with him.

  But his talon commanders both wanted to come, with all their men—they at least wanted one or the other to come. To this idea, Aras responded, mildly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, no. I’m fairly certain Koro inKarano wouldn’t care to see hundreds of Lau soldiers riding through the winter lands, all the way to the foot of the great northern mountains. Besides, supplies would be a considerable problem if we tried anything of the kind; you know that. More than that, I depend on you to take care of everything here. I can hardly disappear into the winter lands and take all of you with me. Soretes would conclude I had abandoned my responsibilities entirely. I wouldn’t care to try to rebut that conclusion, as he would clearly be right.”

  There was a glum silence as both talon commanders conceded the truth of all these points. After long enough to make it plain that everyone knew neither talon could go, Aras went on. “Sigaur, I’d like you to take on the responsibility of tracking down and arresting everyone related to Kerren Rahavet. It’s an unpleasant job and I hate to ask it of you, but—” he spread his hands.

  Talon Commander Sigaur Talat shrugged. “Someone has to do it.” He was not a demonstrative man. He seldom spoke at all unless he had something to say. He had lost a hand many years ago in some battle or accident, but he was still a dangerous man with a knife or a sword; and he was a good warleader. His men respected him and tried hard to earn his regard.

  “Declaring the penalty and seeing it carried out is my responsibility, so you’ll have to bring them here, to Tavas Sen, and hold them until I return.” He turned to Talon Commander Sharet. “Rounding them up will take some time, Leonas, but I imagine you’ll need to hold them here for a while. Tavas Sen hasn’t the least need for a large prison, but extending the town further would probably meet with approval. Ask the headwoman what businesses might prove most beneficial to the town and build structures that can be converted to those uses later. Throw a palisade around the area—I trust inGara will permit timber to be cut—”

  “Yes,” I said. “Cut as you find necessary for all this building. If someone asks the timberers, they should say I said they could cut trees. They will want silver for the timber, or steel.”

  Aras nodded. “Thank you, Ryo. Trade at the customary ratio, finished steel for finished timber. We’ll take the palisade down later and find something else useful to do with the timber.”

  “Yes, my lord,” agreed Sharet. He knew perfectly well—we all knew—that Aras had decided on this trip partly so that he could avoid having all those people executed for a long time. But the talon commander did not show in any way that he understood this. He merely asked, “You’re quite certain you won’t take half a talon, my lord? Or at least a division? That’s not so many it would offend the king of the winter country, surely?”

  A division would be far too many. I did not have to say so. Aras knew it. “I won’t take anyone,” he said. “I can’t take enough soldiers to matter, so there’s no point in putting anyone else to the trouble.”

  “I don’t know that it’d be trouble, exactly,” Geras commented from his place by the door. “I expect it’d be an interesting journey.”

  He never spoke out of turn. He never said anything when Lord Aras was consulting with his talon commanders. Geras took his duty very seriously, and he was on duty now. But he now he went on. “My lord, if you can’t take a division, you should take a file. If you can’t take a file, you should still take somebody. A man or two won’t make any difference, unless it’s the day when a man or two make all the difference in the world. You don’t know which day that’ll be until you get to it. Could be that’ll happen somewhere along the way.” He looked at me. “How about it, Ryo? One or two men, how would that work for your people?”

  I was smiling. I said, “Would you like to come, Geras? I would like that.” I had an idea of how to do it so no one could possibly take offense. I turned to Aras. “If you brought soldiers for your own protection, that would offend the inGara. It would suggest you do not trust our friendship or our hospitality. But if you bring a woman with you, this will make it very clear you trust inGara hospitality. If one or two men escort a woman, that is different. Kinsmen are expected to escort a woman. Lalani speaks very good taksu. She would not be frightened of this kind of journey. I think she would be pleased to go into the winter country and visit my people.”

  “Lalani?” Geras said, at the same time Talon Commander Sharet said, “A woman?” They both sounded shocked. Everyone but Aras stared at me. I knew enough of Lau customs now that I was not surprised by their strong reaction.

  Aras had not been surprised. He was smiling in a pleased way. “That’s quite clever, Ryo. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  I explained to the others. “Bringing a Lau woman is reasonable because this Tarashana person is a woman. Besides, as so many of Lord Gaur’s people live in the borderlands now, it would be perfectly reasonable for a Lau woman to wish to arrange matters of trade between Gaur and the women of the inGara. If Lalani comes, then no one could be offended in any way if kinsmen escort her. One or two men would be right for that. Geras could come if he wishes. Suyet could come as well. He speaks good taksu.” I was sorry now that Esau had gone on this other mission. Although perhaps that was as well, as Esau was one of the Lau who was cursed with a little sorcery. His curse was so weak that it should not seriously offend anyone, except that any curse of that kind is very offensive until one becomes accustomed.

  Talon Commander Sharet said, “Well, I agree with Troop Leader Geras. One or two men would be better than none at all, no matter what excuse you have to use to take them. It’s just good sense to take a couple of men, my lord. You may not be going into battle, but any number of accidents could give you reason to be glad you’ve got—”

  “Enough, Leonas,” Aras interrupted him. “You may now stop arguing. Ryo is right, Troop Leader Geras is right, you’re right, and I’ll be happy to take two soldiers. Please ask Lalani to come see me tonight. If she doesn’t like the idea, we’ll think of something else.”

  “She will wish to come,” I said.

  “I suspect you’re right, Ryo, but I’ll explain what this sort of journey entails and make certain she’s as pleased by the idea as you think she’ll be.” Aras looked at Geras. “Troop Leader Geras, you’re married, yes? I only mention it because, as we’ve
already agreed Lalani may come, it wouldn’t be improper for your wife to accompany us as well—if you and she would wish it.”

  Geras shook his head. “I’ll ask her, my lord, but Aedani won’t want that. She’s settled here, settled and busy, and she’s not as young as Lalani—and when she was as young, she still wouldn’t’ve wanted to come along on something like this. Especially not if we’d be traveling in winter part of the time, as seems likely. Plus she doesn’t speak taksu. Anyway, our daughter’ll come from Gaur soon enough, with your family, and Dani’ll want to be here.”

  Aras nodded. Then he looked around at us all and said, “I think we’ve settled everything, then. We’ll leave in the morning, just after dawn.”

  I had known he had not meant to delay. But that was very fast.

  -5-

  At dawn we rode out of the summer lands and into the winter country: Lord Aras, and Geras and Suyet, and Lalani, and Rakasa and Bara, and I. We were certainly an unusual company. We all rode Lau horses. This was a new experience for Rakasa and Bara. Rakasa had been given a tall mare, an animal so dark bay she was almost black. Bara rode a dark sorrel gelding with a flaxen mane. All the horses were bay or brown except for Bara’s gelding and one red sorrel mare. Lau horses are almost always dark, just as Ugaro ponies are usually paler colors. My horse was another bay mare, not as dark as Rakasa’s, with a fine sloping shoulder and a smooth stride.

  It would be a pleasant and swift journey, on these smooth-gaited horses, especially in the warm season, with no need to seek shelter from the winds or wonder whether snow might begin to fall.

  We rode through aspens and birches near the river, and then through a wide belt of young spruce and fir, and across a wide meadow where pink flowers danced on long stems. The tall white lacy ones were only just opening now, but the yellow flowers had already mostly gone to puffs of seed.