My father raised his eyebrows. He said drily, “If you were inGara, I might call that insolence.”
“Lord,” Tano answered, bowing low. “Accept me as the least of your people and I will be glad to endure whatever punishment you consider just, for insolence or any fault.”
My father looked at him for some time longer. Tano did not move. Finally my father turned to me. “You did not punish this young man according to the terms of the ban,” he observed. “Even though he was inTasiyo at that time, you chose not to do so.”
“Yes, lord,” I agreed. “For the memory of mercy I was once shown by an enemy, I chose to show mercy to an enemy. I beat him severely and declared that this punishment satisfied inGara honor. If you say I was too generous, I will not protest your judgment.”
Another pause. After some time, my father said. “You were far too generous. But the gods despise ingratitude. No man would say otherwise.”
“Yes, lord.”
My father asked me, almost plaintively, “Why did you say you would deal with him as a brother, Ryo?”
I was very, very glad he addressed me by name. I answered as politely as I could. “I thought this the best solution to the problem he presented. I ask you to respect my oath, though I am very sorry that I have displeased you, Father.”
My father glanced down at Tano. He indicated him with a backhanded gesture and said in an indifferent tone, “This young man is an inGara now.” Then he turned to Aras as though entirely uninterested in any young man who might once have been a son of an enemy. “You were generous to come so far in answer to my request. The Tarashana woman is still alive, still with my people, and still silent. We have made a place for her a little apart because she is not comfortable among so many Ugaro. She has waited for many-many days; she can wait another day. If you will come with me, I think it would be good for us to go aside and talk.”
“Yes,” said Aras, the correct response to a request that was truly an order. He said to Geras, “You’re with me,” then realized he had accidentally switched to darau and shifted at once back to taksu. “Geras, please accompany us. Suyet, find out how to politely establish our people here. Ryo ...” Shifting back to darau, he said in a resigned tone, “I gather I should have asked your father’s permission before telling one of my soldiers to come with us. I suppose I’ll have to apologize; that certainly didn’t take long. If it’s not incorrect to request it, I’d like you with me as well or I’m likely to make some other mistake without realizing it.”
I could not help but smile. I said in darau, “He will tell you the offense was too slight to require notice.” Then I said in taksu, “It is right for the Lau to do as Aras commands. They are his people. He is their lord.”
“No one would say otherwise,” my father said, slightly impatient. “If there was any offense given, it was too small to require notice. My guest, if you will come this way. Ryo, you may come as well.”
I jumped to my feet and said hastily to Tano, “Go with Suyet, help him in whatever way seems useful.”
“Yes,” he said. He had not yet gotten to his feet. I could see he was still a little stunned to find that he had become inGara. I could hardly imagine what that must be like, but I knew my mother would take care for him. I went quickly after my father and Aras. Everyone who had gathered moved quickly out of my father’s way, lowering their eyes because they were not certain of his temper yet.
Though I looked for him, I did not see my own brother, my mother’s younger son, Raga. I had thought I might send Tano with Raga, trusting my true brother to make a place among the young men for this difficult oath-brother. I thought Raga might like Tano because my brother did not meet many young men as intelligent as he was. I thought Raga might be good for Tano because Raga had been far, far better taught. I had not seen my younger brother for almost two years; he would have sixteen winters now, so the two young men were the same age. But he had not come to meet me—or not yet. I hoped he was here somewhere.
Raga had become a man and I had not been here to tease him and challenge him to do foolish things and make certain he survived doing them. Though a young man who has decided to become a poet will seldom be as foolish as a young warrior, Raga had never been the kind of young man to refuse a chance to do something brave and foolish. I asked my father, “Lord, where is your youngest son?”
My father glanced at me. “Your younger brother and the eldest of your brothers are both in the small camp, Ryo, farther up along the roots of the mountain, where we have made a place for the avila. Raga finds this person interesting, though he has found no way to speak with her.”
“Garoyo is there?” I was surprised. I had assumed he would be out on the steppe, visiting one inGara herd and then another, riding widely and looking at all the lands that belonged to inGara. This was the season when another tribe would be most likely to raid for cattle or ponies, so the warleader of the inGara should be watchful.
“Yes,” said my father, following my thought without difficulty. “It is the fear of the avila woman that keeps your eldest brother close. She is afraid of us, but she is much more afraid of something else. We have seen nothing that concerns us. Our warriors watch the pass carefully and they have seen nothing. Even so, Garoyo thinks it best to stay close. Tokavo and Suroka and others of those warriors have taken the broader duties that would ordinarily fall to Garoyo.”
I nodded. Now I understood why my older sister had come to stay with my mother. I had not seen Tokavo’s wife among the women, but probably she was here also. Probably many of the women who ordinarily lived with a different part of our tribe had come here when their husbands and brothers took on a different kind of duty than they normally held.
We had come to my father’s tent. He put back the entrance, pegging it open, and ducked through. The rest of us followed, and I gestured to Aras and Geras that they should take places near the brazier that stood in the center of the tent. There were many cushions and furs, and someone must have run ahead to set berry liqueur over the brazier to warm and set out the small cups on the enameled table that stood to the side, because there were enough cups for everyone.
My father poured some of the liqueur into a cup with his own hands and offered this to Aras. He said, “I am grateful the scepter-holder and nephew of the king of the summer country answered my request to come. I know you have your own duties in the summer country, but this problem here concerns me more now than it did when my wife wrote to you. And it already troubled my thoughts then.”
“Yes,” said Aras, taking the cup. “I was glad to come, lord. I have been curious about the Tarashana and the starlit lands since your son told me that the people you used to trade with disappeared, but as I had many other concerns and the starlit country is so far from the summer lands, I put that curiosity out of my mind. But now I wonder very much what happened there.”
“I have sent for my warleader. I think it best you speak with him before you see the avila woman. You will wish to speak with my warleader first, and soon enough the Sun will step below the edge of the world. Tonight, I offer you the hospitality of my tent. Or you may raise up your own tent, as you prefer.”
Aras hesitated. I thought I knew why. My father considered it right to offer the hospitality of his own tent—but he would prefer that his guest who was a sorcerer raise up a tent of his own, preferably not too near. Probably that was confusing for a sorcerer who wished to do the right thing and not cause offense. I thought as clearly as I could of what he might do, and he said, without looking at me, “Thank you, lord. I am glad to accept your hospitality tonight. Perhaps, after I see this Tarashana woman, I will find it best to place my own tent there, near the place you have set aside for her.”
“After you have met this woman, if that seems best, you may certainly do that,” my father said calmly.
My brother Garoyo came in then. He knelt first to greet our father. Then, at our father’s gesture, he came to sit with the rest of us. As he was my eldest brother and my warl
eader, I poured some of the liqueur for him and knelt to offer him the cup. He gripped my shoulder briefly, took the cup, and sat down, acknowledging Aras with a nod and Geras with a glance. He said to Aras, “You will wish to see this avila—this Tarashana.”
Aras smiled, but he answered my brother’s restrained manner with restraint of his own and said merely, “Yes, warleader, but even though I have heard the tale from Rakasa, I would like to hear it from you as well. Please tell me briefly about this woman and how she came here.”
Garoyo tilted his head. “Do I need to tell you anything? Can you not see everything in my mind?”
“I would prefer that you tell me the tale, warleader,” Aras answered. “What I see in your mind as you speak will show me the ... the background for your words. But the tale will be much more clear to me if you speak out loud. Please tell me first about the starlit country.”
Garoyo nodded. “That is a sad country now. The land lies abandoned and lonely. The villages and farms of the avila lie empty. The wind blows through their homes. They left all their possessions and went away.”
“Yes,” Aras murmured. “I see how disturbing you found that empty country. The dark sky to the north ... that is even more disturbing, I agree. I am glad to see these things through your memory, warleader. Thank you for showing me. Will you tell me of the Tarashana woman now?”
“She followed us from her own country into the pass. When I became aware someone followed us, I was not certain what kind of person this might be. I did not think it would be an avila. The path through the mountains is challenging, steep, with little shelter, and this was before spring had come, so the winds cutting through the pass were fiercely cold.”
“Yes,” Aras agreed. “I have read descriptions of the Tarashana. I cannot imagine one of those people would find that an easy journey, not if your people find it challenging. But what other kind of person did you think this might have been?” He was leaning forward, interested in whatever my brother might say. Aras was the kind of man who might have been a poet if he had not been a warleader and a lord and a sorcerer; he always wanted to hear tales of wide travel and unknown marvels.
Garoyo shrugged. “Something drove the avila away, or killed them. I thought we might discover what kind of enemy had done this. But the roots of all these mountains go down into the land of the shades. The shades of the unsettled dead haunt the mountains. They are dangerous because they may try to steal the breath of the living. The taiGara drive them away from our lands, but the mountains that frame the pass belong to no one. I thought that was the more likely danger.”
Aras sat back, nodding. “Yes, I see. So, Garoyo, you sent most of your people ahead and you and a few others waited to see what kind of person followed?”
“It happened as you say. When we saw it was an avila, we came out to confront her. We saw she was one woman, alone. I was astonished. We saw she was afraid of us. I mean no insult to her when I say so. I say this so you will understand how it happened. She was afraid of us, but much more afraid of something else. She came directly to me and knelt, asking for mercy. She would not speak. We did not know then that she could not. I think she expected me to kill her, but she could see no better choice but to beg for mercy. I do not know any of this, but this is what I thought then.”
“So you bought her through the pass.”
“I wished to understand her, and I wished to know what had happened to her people. So we brought her through the pass. But in all the days since, she has not spoken. Half the warm season has passed, more than half, and still nothing has changed. She may be unable to speak; that is the thought of my father’s wife. To me, she seems to have decided she will not speak, but perhaps I am mistaken. She watches the pass. That is why we have set our camp here and stayed for all this time. We do not want to leave the pass unguarded.”
“Yes,” Aras said. “I see.” He was frowning. He asked my father, “I ask your opinion, lord.”
“She is certainly afraid,” my father answered. “When I have spoken to her, that is what I see in her. I see nothing else clearly. Avila are not a people I understand. This woman is frightened for some important reason, though I think she is also afraid of me.”
“Well ...” Aras considered him, his expression thoughtful. “You are the man who will eventually decide what should be done with a foreign person who is not one of your people and not precisely a guest of your people. And you are an intimidating man, Sinowa inGara. If I were in that woman’s place, I would probably be afraid of you. As I recall, I was.”
“You were never afraid of me,” my father said drily. “You are too arrogant to be afraid of anyone.”
Aras smiled. “I am not so arrogant as to contradict you while I sit in your own tent, lord, so let it be as you say. I would like to see this woman, but I think this is something best left for the morning. I would prefer the Sun be in the sky when I meet this person.”
“And perhaps the Moon, should she choose to linger,” my father said.
“Yes,” Aras agreed. “Tonight, I would like to speak to ...” he switched to darau. “To your mother, Ryo, if that’s not inappropriate, but should I say her name?”
“You may say her name, or you may instead say you would like to speak to my father’s wife,” I told him. “Either way, it is entirely appropriate that you should do so. Everyone would be surprised if you did not wish to speak to her.”
Aras nodded. He said to my father, “I would like to speak with your wife, lord. A woman, especially a singer, may have a different perception of this Tarashana woman.”
My father nodded. “My wife will invite you to eat with her tonight. She will be preparing food now. She will be pleased to speak with you. If you wish, my warleader will take you to my wife now. My younger son may remain here.”
So that was very clear. I shifted from sitting to kneeling. Everyone else stood up. Aras slanted a glance toward me, but said nothing. Garoyo said to me, “I understand you have acquired a new younger brother, Ryo. A young man who is now inGara, but who used to have a different name. I would not have expected any brother of mine to be generous to an inTasiyo. I will be interested to meet this young man.”
I bowed my head. “I hope very much that my eldest brother is not offended by my actions. I did not know the story behind that enmity, or perhaps I would have put an inTasiyo to death when the chance came to me, and taken his head to give to my father. But ...” I looked up again. “I mean no offense when I say that I am glad I did not know I should do that, Garoyo. It would have been a wrong thing to do. This young man has been badly taught. But he is learning better now.”
Garoyo looked at me thoughtfully. Then he nodded to our father and went out. Everyone went out, except my father, who raised his cup and sipped the sweet liqueur. I braced myself, waiting for him to say whatever he wished to say.
When he spoke, his tone was milder than I expected. “That will be why you chose to be generous, and then defended this young man even in the face of my anger. Because he has been badly taught, and you have begun to teach him better. Thus you have taken on a responsibility to him.”
I was far too surprised to answer.
My father set his cup down. “I am glad to know this. Now perhaps I understand why my son might make and hold to such an extraordinary decision. In what way has this young man been badly taught?”
“In every way, lord.” I thought about how to explain. “At first, I knew nothing of him except that he was a young man of an enemy tribe. A young man of little courage and less honor.”
My father raised his eyebrows.
“Yes,” I said. “I thought it as well to show mercy to this very young man. I am very sorry to have displeased my father, but ... a young man should be taught to behave properly, not sent to stand before the gods with lies on his tongue and dishonorable acts in his hands. If you will permit, I will tell you exactly how it happened.”
My father nodded thoughtfully. “I will listen, my son.”
I
told him everything. At the end, I said, “I know sometimes a father may dislike his son, but I had not realized it could happen that a father might hate his son and treat him as an enemy. I do not understand how this could happen.”
“I have seen it before. There are ways it can happen. But the problem is seldom allowed to become as serious as you describe.”
“I think my father is right to say that the inTasiyo are honorless people. But I think this young man can learn to behave properly. I think he will learn that.”
My father poured more liqueur into his cup and sipped it, very slowly, taking time to think through everything I had told him. Eventually, he said, “You think a young man of little courage and less honor may choose to behave properly. I am not certain this is so.”
“I think he sees now that he can learn to do better. What young man would not want that, once he sees that it is possible?”
“I have known one and another who would not want that,” my father said. “I do not imagine Yaro inTasiyo would ever have desired to know anything of proper behavior.” He was silent for some time. I said nothing. After a little while, he went on. “So. Perhaps you have made a mistake, my son, and this young man will prove worthless, or worse than worthless. But perhaps you are right and he may become an honorable and respected inGara warrior and never look toward his former tribe for anything. That is a different way to take a man’s son from him.”
I had not thought of it in that way, but I bowed to show I understood this idea.
“The young man is inGara now. I will expect him to behave properly.”
“I ask my father to teach him to behave before expecting him to behave as he should.”
Our eyes met. I did not look down. After a moment, my father said, “I will not need to teach him anything. His brother will do that. So. Tell me of your journey, Ryo. How does our land lie between this border of the winter country and the southern river? What people did you meet besides this young man who used to be inTasiyo, and how do the deer and the other beasts prosper upon the land?”
Tarashana Page 17