Royova answered formally, “All that you command, o king, I will do.”
Koro nodded. “Before you leave the inTasiyo lands, go up to their tombs. Take all the heads from the tomb that was carved most recently. Cast those skulls into the open for the beasts. If this is unjust to any of the taiTasiyo, then I regret that and I pray that the gods will be merciful to those shades. But I do not want the shades of honorless people mingled with those of their ancestors.”
“O king, I will do as you command.”
Koro nodded once more. He said, “Before you carry out these commands, wait. I may have something else for you to do first.” Then he raised his hands again and looked around at everyone, all the gathering. He called out, in a voice that everyone could hear, “I declare that the lands that once belonged to the inTasiyo are unlucky. For the coming year, no one will set foot upon those lands. Let no one hunt there. Any tribe may take the beasts that stray from that territory to any other, but no one should go into that territory to find ponies or cattle or dogs, lest ill luck follow them from that land to that of their own people. For one year, let those lands lie unpeopled. After this year has passed away, during the Convocation of the next season, which will be held there in the west, I will listen to anyone who wishes to risk taking on that ill luck. At that time, we will discuss how to divide those lands, and I will decide what is best to do in that regard.”
Once more lowering his hands, Koro turned at last to Aras. I steadied myself, resisting the urge to jump to my feet. I might do so soon, but the time was not yet. I knew that, but it was hard for me to wait.
Koro began to speak, and checked himself.
Or, no. Koro did not check himself. I realized that a heartbeat after he closed his mouth. I could hardly believe what I saw. I thought I must be wrong. But I was not wrong. I knew even before I looked at Aras that I was right. Then I looked at him, and knew for certain. He was gazing steadily at Koro, his manner almost like his ordinary manner. But beneath the stark, hard-held calm was something else: a bleak awareness of what he had done and that there was no way to undo the act.
I said softly, “Aras.”
He had been looking only at Koro. Now he blinked and looked at me. He shut his eyes, and breathed out, and bowed his head, pressing his hands first across his eyes and then to his mouth.
Koro took a breath. Another breath. Then he looked at Aras. He said, his voice level and dangerous, “You set your will upon me. I felt you do it.”
Royova had not realized this. Now he drew his sword, signaling to his warriors. All of the inVotaro near us drew their swords, enough men that Aras might not, should not, be able to put his will on all of them fast enough to prevent someone from cutting him down. But our king put up a hand to check them, and all those warriors paused, waiting for a different signal.
I waited as well, because there was nothing else I could do. My father rose to his feet, but he did not say anything. Koro gave him a glance and then looked away again, tacit permission for him to stand. Garoyo, beside me, set a hand on my shoulder. This made my breaths come a little more easily. I realized then that there could be some other kind of trouble, and looked for the other Lau. They were above, not far away. They had been sitting with my mother. Geras had obviously moved to get up, but Hokino, also in that place, had stopped him. I was very glad Hokino was there. I trusted him not to let this terrible problem become any more of a disaster than it was already.
For that breath or two, Aras had not answered. But now, perhaps realizing that no one was going to kill him immediately, he bowed his head a little more deeply and spoke. “Yes,” he said, very softly, not looking up. “It happened as you say. I did not intend to do that, o king. In the first moment, I did not even realize I had done it.”
That hardly made anything better.
He knew that, and finally raised his gaze to meet Koro’s hard stare. He lifted his hands as well, palm upward, in the gesture that asks for mercy. “I apologize, o king. I am ... I realize this was a terrible insult. I think I must have been ... all the things that have happened have been very difficult. I think I must have been far more upset than I realized. I know this does not excuse the act. I know there can be no excuse. I beg your pardon.”
Koro did not look away from him. “You used this kind of sorcery against Ryo inGara for a reason you considered good. Then you did the same against the warleader of the inTasiyo for a different reason you also considered good. Once a man finds one reason and then another reason to break his oath, he may find many other reasons to do it that seem good to him.”
“Yes,” Aras said. Now he sounded very tired. He lowered his hands and spoke quietly, his head bowed. “I think that is true, o king, but I did not think the reason good when I did it to you. I did not think at all. I saw that you might decide to put me to death, and I ... I reacted without thinking.” Now he looked up again, meeting Koro's eyes. “I am horrified beyond measure to realize that this is something I can do so thoughtlessly. I am not accustomed to acting impulsively, and this ... I know it was an unforgivable offense. I do not ask you to forgive it, but I ask, I most earnestly ask, that you set it aside. But if you order my death, I will not defend myself by means of sorcery.”
“No?” said Koro.
“No. I swear I will not. I have ... I have set myself better now. I will not permit myself to do anything of that kind again. I am certain I will not do it. But I ask that you make a different decision. It is not necessary to put me to death. You are not obligated to do so. You are not my king, and such an act may offend him, so I ask you earnestly to make a different decision.”
“You think your king would judge your act differently?”
“I think ... my king would not take the matter lightly. I am not certain what judgment he might make. I ask you to permit him to make that judgment, whatever it may be.” Aras paused, looking at him closely. Then he said, “I understand it is impossible for you to make any decision now, or trust any decision you might make. There is a Tarashana medicine that will make me sleep. Ryo has some of this medicine. I suggest you use it. Then you will know that any decision you make and any act you choose will be yours alone.”
Koro said, “Ryo.”
I had not realized Aras knew I had brought some vials of the Tarashana medicine with me from the starlit country. I had not thought of that since I tucked those vials into my pack. But now I seized on this suggestion. I could not bear to leave him, even for a moment, lest something terrible happen while I was gone. I said, “Tano. My pack, in my mother’s tent. Three flasks, glass, each wrapped in cloth. One of those flasks will be enough.”
“Yes,” Tano whispered. He jumped to his feet and ran up the hill.
Koro did not watch him go. He continued to look only at Aras. His expression was unreadable. I could very easily imagine his thoughts. Aras, who did not have to imagine them, knelt very still, his head bowed again. Neither of them moved or spoke. No one moved or spoke.
In a very little time, Tano returned. He came to me and put a flask in my hands. A narrow spear of sunlight came between the clouds as I took it, lighting the glass as vividly as a lamp and the wine to a shade deeper and brighter than the color of rubies. I rose to my feet, came forward the few steps necessary, and gave the flask to Aras. Clouds crossed the face of the Sun as I put it into his hands, so that now the wine seemed as dark as blood.
He took the flask, and opened it, and paused, looking at me. He spoke to me in darau, quietly. “Ryo ... before I drink this, will you let me apologize?”
“Yes,” I said, equally quiet. “I will hear you now.”
“Ryo inGara, I apologize profoundly for my offense against you. No matter the exigency, it was unspeakably wrong of me to force my will on you. I knew that at the time and I know it now. Such an act does not deserve forgiveness. Nevertheless, I ask—I beg that you will forgive me.”
I touched the back of my hand lightly to his cheek in token of a blow. “I already forgave the act. Now I also fo
rgive you. Should it come to that, I will pray the gods receive you kindly.”
He bowed his head. Then he looked up at Koro, switching back to taksu. “I apologize to you again, Koro inKarano. I deeply regret the act. I do not ask you to forgive me. I know I have no right to ask you for forgiveness.” He bowed in the Ugaro manner, touching his face to the earth.
“If you drink that medicine now, I will forgive the act,” our king told him.
Aras nodded. Lifting the flask, he hesitated for a bare instant. Then he drank all the wine, set the flask on the gritty soil where he knelt, and almost at once swayed, lifting a hand to his face. I caught him as he slumped, lowered him to lie down, folded his cloak around him, and tucked his hands beneath the fur to keep them warm. I stayed there, kneeling beside him, my eyes on his face. The hard-held calm had relaxed now into peace. A man should die on his feet, fighting. But if he could not die that way, then this was perhaps not bad.
“How long will he sleep?” Koro asked me.
I could not bring myself to look up. “Four handbreadths of time. Five. Probably not six.”
“Sinowa inGara, I will hear your opinion.”
My father stepped close to me, setting a hand on my shoulder. He said, “My son.”
Now I had to raise my eyes. Steeling myself, I did so.
“Ryo,” he said gently. “I think there is only one possible decision.”
I protested, “He checked himself. When I spoke to him, he at once ceased using his sorcery in this wrong way. “
“I saw this. That was not as bad as it could have been. But, Ryo, he should not have needed you to speak to him. No matter how difficult everything that has happened, he should have understood it before he acted.” My father paused.
I began to speak, but my father lifted a hand and went on, still speaking gently. “I know he has been an honorable man. I think he is still mindful of honor, or his last thought before he drank that medicine would not have been to seek your forgiveness. But if he wakes, what then? You heard him say he committed this act without thinking, without realizing that he put his will on another man until he had done it. My son, if this is the way in which the madness comes upon a sorcerer, better he dies now, while he is still an honorable man.”
I said sharply, “He was upset and frightened. Anyone would have been. He ceased at once when he realized what he had done. He knows the act was utterly disgraceful—he spoke the truth when he said his own act horrified him. I am certain this was the truth.”
“I think perhaps it was. But, my son, neither you nor I are sorcerers, to see into a man's heart; nor are we gods, to know what the days will bring. What if you are wrong?” My father help up his hand when I would have answered. He said, still gently, “Even if you are right, the matter is still one that must be taken very seriously. If another sorcerer did such a thing to anyone, to you or to me, to any Ugaro, far less our king, would you pardon that sorcerer? Would you argue that our king should pardon him?”
I had not thought of it in that way. I said nothing.
Finally, taking his hand from my arm and turning to face our king, my father said, “The best time to put a sorcerer to death is while he sleeps. There can be no better time than this. I will not protest that decision, if you think it best.” Then he said to me, “My son, you are a proud and honorable man and you know what your honor requires. But if the decision goes that way, I ask that you do not step in front of the knife.”
I drew breath to speak.
I did not know what I meant to say, but before words came to me, a different voice spoke above me, in taksu that was not very good. “I hope no one will say I should not step in front of the knife.”
-35-
I jumped to my feet, aghast. “Geras—” I began.
He held up a hand to check me. “Stop right there,” he told me in darau. “You know better, or you should. There’s no way.” He had come down the hill. Hokino had not stopped him. Hokino was beside him and a step behind, watchful, but plainly not inclined to intervene.
“Geras—” I began again.
“I know everything you’re likely to say, Ryo, so don’t bother.” He turned to Koro and said in his slow taksu, “My name is Geras Lan Karenasen. I understand what happen. What happened. I say it is wrong for the king of the winter country to judge Lord Gaur. I say it is right for Lord Gaur to go back into the summer country, to his own king. Let the summer king say what should be done. That is not right for you to say.”
I said rapidly in darau, “Tell him you mean no disrespect by saying this! Kneel and say so.”
Geras did not glance at me. Nor did he kneel. He stood straight in the Lau manner and said, “I mean no disrespect, o king, but what I say is right. This man is not yours to judge. I will step in front of any knife.” He looked at Royova, and then back at Koro. “I will step in front of his knife. I will fight him now. I say if I win—”
“You cannot possibly win against Royova!” I said urgently in darau.
Geras ignored me, continuing doggedly. “I say if I win, this shows the gods agree with my words. I say you should agree.” He thrust out a hand, pointing at Aras, glaring down at Koro from his greater height. “He do everything to protect your country and your people! If there is trouble now for him, that is why! This is not right, what you do! Judge your own people, but let Lord Gaur go to his own king.”
Koro inclined his head. He said, “You speak bravely. I take no offense at your words. If you consider it right to step in front of the knife, that is your decision. Should it happen in that way, I will pray the gods receive you kindly.” He paused, considering Aras, who lay unconscious and unmoving, his breaths coming slow and even, one after another, as they would until a knife stopped them.
Jumping to my feet, I said, speaking forcefully, but also as respectfully as I could. “O king, Aras committed a shameful act, but he stopped almost at once. He apologized, and he set himself into your hands. He suggested the medicine himself. This was not the act of a sorcerer consumed by madness.” I took a breath. Then I declared, “Geras is right in everything, and if you say otherwise, you are wrong. But he should not step in front of the knife. I will—”
Geras grabbed my arm, shaking me once, hard. “Keep your tongue between your teeth, you young fool!” he said furiously to me in darau. He turned back to our king and went on at once in taksu, standing straight and speaking to our king in the stiff way of a Lau soldier in that kind of moment. “I have more right than Ryo. I am older, and I am Lord Gaur’s man a long time, and I am Lau. I will fight Royova inVotaro. Let the gods show their opinion.”
“Bravely said,” said Hokino. “I agree with those words.”
“Yes,” said Garoyo. “I agree as well.”
“I agree as well,” said my father.
Royova said drily, “I certainly agree, o king. Plainly this Lau cannot defeat me unless the gods favor him.”
Koro looked at them all. Then he studied Geras for a long moment. He did not glance at me. Finally, raising his hands once more, he said, “I say that if this Lau soldier defeats Royova inVotaro, this will show that the gods agree that Aras Eren Samaura should go to his own king for judgment. If that happens, I renounce all right to judge this man for any act he has thus far committed. This is my decision.” Lowering his hands, he said to Geras, “Royova is correct: without the favor of the gods, you cannot win. If you lose, I will order your lord’s death. Should that occur, you may take his head to his king, if you live, so that you can explain to him how all this happened.” He added to Royova, “If you are able to refrain from killing this man, that would please me.”
Royova inclined his head. “In any fight, accidents may happen. But I have no wish to kill this Lau, whom I consider a brave and honorable man.” Drawing his sword from the sheath at his back, he walked down the lakeshore a little way, to a place that was level and big enough. There, he turned and waited, unmoved and unmovable, for Geras to face him.
“Geras—” I began, but then
I did not know what to say.
Geras touched the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it yet. He said to me in darau, “If it comes to that, look after Suyet and Lalani. Get them home, right? And try to get Suyet to believe nothing was his fault. That boy takes things way too hard.”
“Yes,” I said. “But, Geras—”
“So do you, come to that,” Geras told me, smiling a little. “Could be a lot worse, Ryo. We could’ve lost, you know, and all drowned in the dark. Or that wretched excuse for a warleader could’ve gutted you like a fish right here and got away with it. That didn’t happen, at least. This isn’t so bad. A man’s got to die sometime. Dying twice isn’t exactly what I’d’ve picked, but I’d rather face the toughest Ugaro warrior in the winder lands than the invisible spirit of a tiger, I’ll say that. Don’t let Suyet fight anybody, Ryo, and don’t you fight anybody either, not for me and not for Aras. He wouldn’t want that, and I sure don’t.”
I could not stop him. I saw that clearly. I did not even know whether it would be right to stop him. Reaching out, I gripped his wrists, as Lau soldiers sometimes do in greeting or farewell. Then I let him go. “May the gods be kind,” I said.
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