Tarashana

by Rachel Neumeier

  I did not know the full tale behind the enmity, which went back a long way—not Koro, but his uncle, who had been our king before him, had set the ban. But I knew very well that no inTasiyo should have dared set foot on inGara lands. Even a boy of that tribe would not have been safe trespassing on inGara lands—even a woman would not have been safe. An inTasiyo warrior should certainly be put to death for that. I looked at Rakasa, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Bara said, “No inGeiro can possibly have an opinion regarding this matter, Ryo.”

  That was true as well. Finally I said to the inGara hunters, “I would prefer to take this decision on myself. Do any of you object?”

  They glanced at each other. They had been angry, but now that they knew this young man’s name, they were worried. These men had been perfectly ready to punish a trespasser, but they were not the kind of men who would take pleasure in putting anyone to death in the way prescribed by the terms of the ban. Tanoya said, “I have no objection if you wish to take the decision. I think none of us object to that.”

  I waited a moment, but none of the others protested. Finally I nodded and said, “I take this decision.” Then I said to Aras, “I know you will not wish to delay. Perhaps we may take this young inTasiyo warrior with us now, and I will decide what to do with him tonight.”

  “That’s entirely up to you, Ryo,” Aras told me. “We can rearrange the packs easily enough.” I could tell nothing from his expression.

  I said to the young man, “Stay there until a horse is ready for you. Then mount and ride with us. Do not offend any of the Lau. Do not offend me, either.” I added in darau, “This young warrior is a problem. Suyet may ask Rakasa to explain the matter. I do not want to talk to anyone.” Then I said to Rakasa, “I will ride in front now.”

  The afternoon was not so pleasant as the morning had been, at least for me. I rode well out before the others. Some of my attention was on the land and the forest, but mostly I was thinking. Some things were clear to me. Other things were much less clear.

  When we crossed a fast-running stream, everyone dismounted to drink and to refill waterskins. Tano inTasiyo went downstream a little way to drink because it would have been a serious insult for him to expect anyone of inGara to drink water after he had dipped his hands into it. An inTasiyo might not be permitted to drink at all from any stream that ran through inGara territory. Rakasa pretended not to notice the young man had gone to the stream. Bara glanced at me, but I said nothing. It was not an inGeiro warrior’s place to decide what insults inGara chose to ignore, so Bara stayed by his horse rather than ordering the young man away from the water.

  Tano inTasiyo did not look at anyone. When everyone mounted again, he came back and pulled himself into the high saddle and took his place in the line. He kept his gaze strictly on his horse’s ears.

  When the Sun had made his way low in the sky, I found a good place to camp, a small open space where a great tree had fallen, not far from a thin stream where we and the horses could drink. There was no grass there for the horses, but we had grain enough for now.

  I might have helped make our camp, but instead I sat on the fallen tree and considered the inTasiyo. He did not help with any task either. For him to touch anything that belonged to inGara would be an insult; his hand should be struck off for any offense of that kind. He knelt down out of the way, his head bowed. I saw how he watched the Lau through his lowered lashes as they cared for the horses and set up tents and brought water from the stream and made a fire. He must be very much afraid, but despite that, he was still curious. Aras started the fire, flicking a glance at the wood arranged on the cleared earth. Flames leaped up at once when he looked at the kindling there. I had become so accustomed to this that I would not have noticed except that Tano inTasiyo forgot himself, looking openly at Aras before he dropped his gaze again.

  Lalani brought out food: the last of the soft bread and freshly cooked meat, the last of the fresh fruit, some olives, soft white cheese. She put this out and everyone came to the fire to eat, but no one said anything. A murmur now and then, but everyone was very quiet. I stayed where I was. My stomach was too tight for me to be hungry. No one looked at me, except Suyet, who began to come over to where I sat but changed his mind, and Geras, who watched everything. He did not look happy. I was not very happy either and had nothing to say to him or to anyone.

  Lalani wrapped some of the spicy beef in a round of bread and stood up to take this to Tano inTasiyo. Bara touched her arm to stop her, saying, “One does not give food to an enemy.” She stared at him. Then she said, “It is my food and I can give it to whomever I please.” Bara looked at Rakasa, who shrugged. Then they all looked at me.

  I said, “Bara is correct to say this. But Lalani is more correct. A woman may do as she wishes in such matters.” Then I said to the inTasiyo, “If this Lau woman wishes to give you something to eat, she may, but it is not a gesture of hospitality from inGara.”

  He did not look up. He took the food Lalani gave him and said, barely above a whisper, “I thank you for your kindness.” She did not answer, but she brought him fruit: plums with black skin and red flesh. He ate some of the food she had given him, but slowly. One bite, chewed for a long time, and then a little pause before the next small bite. He ate half the bread and meat that way and set the other half aside. Every warrior learns to manage hunger and every discomfort, but I thought again that this young man was very thin. He must have been close to starvation for a long time to be so thin. Of course, he was a long way from the territory of his people. That might have explained this.

  Lalani brought me a plum too, the last one, saved back from the rest. I was still not hungry, but her kindness made me feel a little better. I ate the plum. It was sweet and tart at once. I went down to the stream and washed the juice off my hands. Then I came back to the fire. It was almost dark now. If the Moon had come into the sky, she was hidden behind the branches of the trees among which we camped. These were big firs and spruces and, down along the stream, protected by the folds of the land, aspen and birch and willow.

  I went to Aras, who was sitting on a folded blanket, leaning against a saddle. He looked up when I came to him, but said nothing. I knelt and said in darau, “I have been thinking many hard things of you because you would not agree with me about your law and your duty to your king and what you should do regarding that problem. Now that there is this problem and the matter is one of Ugaro custom, I see that your decision is more difficult than I understood. I was wrong, and I apologize.”

  He answered quietly, “I’ll accept your apology if you wish, but I don’t agree you have anything to apologize for, Ryo. You weren’t actually wrong. Sometimes there’s nothing right to do.”

  “My problem is not as difficult as yours.”

  “No, it’s not. But it’s difficult enough.”

  I nodded. Then I stood up and said in taksu to Tano inTasiyo, “Come here.”

  He stood up at once, came to where I waited, and knelt again, bowing to the ground.

  “What is your name?” I asked him. “Who are your people? How many winters do you have? Why are you here, trespassing upon inGara lands? You must know this is a very, very serious matter.”

  He knelt back on his heels, keeping his head bowed. “My name is Tano inTasiyo. My father’s name is Yaro inTasiyo. I have sixteen winters. I did not mean to trespass on inGara lands. I meant to raid the inSorako. But they almost caught me. They pressed me east. I could not turn back to the west; whatever I tried, I was forced farther and farther to the east. I came into inGara lands to escape them. But I did not mean to raid here. I knew I had come too far. I knew I had broken the ban. I meant to slip very softly through your lands and away again without drawing notice.”

  I asked, “Is that the truth?”

  He flinched at that. He said, his tone low and hopeless, “I am very sorry I lied to you, warrior. I beg your pardon. I deserve whatever punishment you will give me for it.” He did not make the gesture that asks for
mercy. Nor did he ask me to return his head to his father.

  I said, “I understand why you lied to me about your name. That was completely disgraceful, but I understand it. Lying about your age was worse. That was an act of complete cowardice. There can be no possible excuse for such a thing.”

  He bowed to the ground, pressing his face to the earth.

  “For the cowardice you showed in lying to me regarding your age, you should be beaten severely, if I do not cut out the tongue that spoke such lies. The feet of an inTasiyo that have touched inGara soil should be cut off. The hands of an inTasiyo that have touched any inGara possession should be struck off. The eyes of an inTasiyo that have looked upon inGara people should be put out. That is the punishment you deserve for trespassing here. For denying your people, after your death, your head should left to the ravens and the foxes.”

  He did not move. He knew all this.

  I looked down at him for some time. I did not look at Aras, but finally I went on. “I have recently suggested to someone else that he show generosity to an enemy beyond what any custom permits. I consider it fitting that I do the same now, to set the example I have asked this other person to follow. Therefore, this one time, I will merely beat an inTasiyo who has committed all these offenses. Twice forty.” For any ordinary offense, this would be extraordinarily severe, especially for so young a warrior. For the offenses this young man had committed, it was not by any possible measure severe enough. I did not know how I would explain to my father that I had set so light a penalty. But I had said what I would do. I could not change my mind now or that would be worse still.

  I did not look to see what the inGeiro thought of my decision. I looked only at the young inTasiyo. I said, “I will do it in the morning, when the light is better.”

  He whispered, his voice muffled against the earth, “I thank you for your extraordinary generosity, warrior.”

  I nodded, though he was not looking up and did not see me. He should be grateful. Any man in his position should be very, very grateful merely to be beaten for all these offenses.

  I could hardly see how a young man like this, who had been eating little for a long time and who would be in pain from a severe beating, could possibly make it all the way back to the territory of his people without being caught again by one of the tribes that lay between our lands. If he were caught by another tribe, he would probably lie again, as he lied to me. A young man will recover from a beating, however severe, but I did not know how he would recover from the cowardice that had led him to lie. A man who goes to the land of the shades with lies on his tongue cannot expect mercy from the gods.

  Of course, the fate of a cowardly and dishonorable inTasiyo warrior was not properly my concern.

  I said, “I will not bind you tonight. You will swear to me you will stay here and not try to run away. Swear that now.”

  A very slight pause. Then he answered, “I swear it before the gods. I will do as you say, warrior.”

  “Is that a lie?”

  He flinched.

  “You see how it is when you tell one lie. Who can trust anything you say after that? Look at me, Tano inTasiyo, and tell me again you will obey me.”

  That took a moment. I knew for myself that it takes courage to face a man who has corrected you for some shameful mistake, and I thought it must be worse when the correction comes from an enemy. But he pushed himself up and sat back again on his heels. The firelight showed me again how thin his face was, how prominent his cheekbones. I could not remember ever seeing an Ugaro man of sixteen winters as thin as this. He kept his gaze respectfully lowered. He said, “I swear before the gods that I will stay where you tell me and not try to slip away in the night.”

  I looked at him for a long time. Long enough for him to see that I did not know whether I should accept his word. That is what lies do. The color came into his face suddenly, and I nodded. Then I said, “You may go to the stream for water if you wish. Drink downstream of us. You may lie down anywhere you wish within this glade. If, despite your promise, you slip away and run, I will track you down tomorrow and put you to death in the way prescribed by the ban. Crossing into the summer country will not protect you from me. Nothing will protect you from me.”

  He bowed once more, then got up and backed away. He did not forget to collect the bread and meat he had not yet eaten before he retreated very quietly to the edge of the firelight. He did not eat anything more, not yet. He sat down there at the foot of a big fir where the lowest branches almost hid him from sight, wrapped his arms around his knees, and tried to be so still everyone would forget he was there.

  I went to the fire, sat down, and looked into the flames. At first no one else said anything. Then Suyet said to me in darau, “I’ve made a careful note never, ever to lie to an Ugaro, no matter what. If you ask me if I’m cold, I won’t politely say no.”

  Some of the tension eased out of my shoulders and back, and I managed to smile. “That kind of politeness does not offend, but yes, we think it is important to be honest. You knew that already.”

  “Not as well as I know it now,” he assured me earnestly. He explained to Geras, “Lying about his age might’ve got that boy’s tongue cut out. Ryo’s going to beat him. Same penalty as breaking out of your line, and I don’t mean in drill, I mean in battle.”

  Geras whistled. “That’s ...”

  “Very generous, in this particular case,” Aras cut in. “Amazingly generous.”

  “Is that what it is?” Geras leaned back against the fallen tree. “Never mind, then.”

  “I admit I don’t entirely understand why,” Aras said to me. “I gather the bad feeling between your people and his goes well beyond the usual.”

  I looked around at all the Lau, as familiar to me as the people of my mother’s camp, but foreign to the winter country and to Ugaro customs. I said, “I do not know the exact nature of the problem that began the enmity. It happened a long time ago, and the older people of the tribe do not like to speak of it. The inTasiyo insulted us in some very serious manner. We and our allies nearly began a war with the inTasiyo and their allies. The problem became so serious that the king at that time forbade any contact at all between our people. For breaking this ban, the young man should be put to a hard death. The matter is complicated, because if I do not put this young man to the death prescribed, then his own lord must do it, or the inGara may bring a very serious charge against the inTasiyo.”

  “But you aren’t going to,” said Suyet.

  “No. If I punish him in some lesser way and declare before the gods that inGara honor has been satisfied, then, as I am the son of the lord of the inGara, that is a decision that will hold. My father will not bring that kind of charge against the inTasiyo. This may prevent the lord of the inTasiyo from putting this young man to death, or it may not. That will be his decision.”

  “I see.” Aras was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I’m glad you don’t find it a casual matter to put a young man to death, Ryo, even when you think your honor as your father’s son means that you ought to. I’m not in any way offended by being asked to take your example. I don’t think it’s very likely I’ll find a way to follow it, but I hope I will.” His expression was hard to make out in the shadows of the trees.

  Rakasa and Bara had gone back into the forest a little distance, probably so they could speak freely about my decision without the risk of offending me. Now they returned. Rakasa carried our camp hatchet in one hand and Bara carried a birch sapling longer than his own height in the other, which he tossed to me. I caught it. He sat down a little distance away, and Rakasa sat down between us. “So,” he said. “I have no opinion on any matter concerning inGara honor, but if I may ask, Ryo, what explanation do you intend to give your father?”

  I took out my knife and began to peel the thin bark off the sapling. A proper whip is made of stiff leather, but we had nothing like that here. A sapling like this, with leather braided into the tip, would do. I said, “I will say I acte
d as seemed right to me.”

  Rakasa made a derisive sound. “I would not want to be in your place when you meet him.” Then he added seriously, “But I will say I was with you and I did not disagree. I do not look forward to being in my own place either, when I say that.”

  I looked at him.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps, as you do not intend to kill this young fool, he might live long enough to learn better. If he were a young inGeiro warrior, not that any inGeiro could behave in so shameful a manner, but if that should happen, I would be grateful if an enemy were generous to him.”

  I had not expected Rakasa to agree with my decision. His temper was truly extraordinarily easy. I said, keeping my tone as level and unconcerned as I could, “Someone among his people might be grateful.”

  “Perhaps,” Rakasa said. “Though his people seem careless to me.” He dropped his voice. “Careless at best.”

  He too was wondering how a young man this age came to be so thin, or perhaps how a young man came to be so poorly taught as to lie so egregiously. Careless was certainly the least one could say of this young man’s kin. That might explain why Rakasa had accepted my decision without protest. I nodded.

  “You truly believe the young man will be in that place in the morning?” Bara asked me. “He is a coward. He may fear the whip so much he cannot stay where you sent him, even with the death you described waiting if his courage breaks. If he were bound, that could not happen.”

  Bara was not wrong. That was a risk. But finally I said, “I have met many young men. I have never met one who wishes to be cowardly. Young men want to be brave and behave honorably and win regard. If that inTasiyo is given a chance to behave better, perhaps he will take it. If not, then he is not due the mercy I chose to show.”