Almost as I thought this, he let go with one hand and struck me in the chest, one light blow, not fighting me, but I knew he meant he must breathe.
I was under ice now. I could not tell how thick it might be. If it was too thick to break, we would both drown. If it was not that thick but the fengol lay above the water, we would come out into the fierce cold, breathe that crystalline air, and freeze both from the outside and the inside.
Lord Aras hit my chest again, the same measured blow, carrying no more desperation than the first, but he would not be hitting me at all if he were not desperate. I went down first and found the bottom, hardly any distance below, and kicked up hard, my forearms gripped together above my head to deliver the hardest blow I could.
The ice shattered, and we came up into the air. I shook water out of my eyes, struggling to keep my head out of the water. Lord Aras coughed and choked and almost slipped down again, his hold loosening, but I gripped his shirt and turned on my side to pull him toward the shore of the summer lands. I had to break ice as we went, but here it was only a fingerwidth thick. Behind us, I knew it would be much thicker. I could not lift my head enough to look, but I knew we must have come halfway across the river—or a very little more than halfway. The air was quiet and frigid, but it did not freeze my lungs. I could not tell whether the cold hurt his lungs or not, but Lord Aras breathed in great gasps, not choking so much now, but shuddering with cold, unable either to cling to me or to swim on his own.
It would be unforgivable to let him drown now. I pulled his head up to my shoulder so I could be sure his face was out of the water, and struggled onward.
Then suddenly the air was warm, heavy with the scent of mud and cut hay and flowers. Even the water seemed not quite so cold, and my feet grated on the stony bottom of the river, and somewhere not far away, a lot of men were shouting.
I think I stopped there, in chin-deep water. But many Lau were splashing around me, reaching for Lord Aras and for me. On them, the water came hardly to the breastbone, not even to the shoulder. I had never felt the difference in height between Lau and Ugaro so clearly. I was shaking with cold and weariness, and though I did not recognize the men who took hold of me, I did not fight them. Lord Aras was no longer near me; I had lost track of him, and that made me anxious. I feared he might have drowned after all, or died from the cold though it had barely touched us. I looked, but I could not see him. After that, much was a blur to me. I knew when I was pulled out of the river. I sat on the soft grass at the verge, where the meadows came down to the riverbank, and coughed out cold water and breathed in warm air. My back burned where the cold had struck against my skin, but I could tell that its touch had not gone deep. Lau were all around me, but if they spoke to me, I did not know it. After a time they took me somewhere else and gave me something to drink. Then there a cot, and then I did not know what else might have happened.
-5-
I woke in a place I did not recognize. I was over-warm. I think that woke me.
I was in a room with stone walls and a smooth stone floor and a timbered ceiling. Even if the air had not been close and warm, I would have known immediately that I was in the summer country. My people do not build with stone in that way: we live in round tents lined with felt and softened with many furs and blankets, or on the steppe, we live in wagons made in the same way. Only our tombs are carved from stone.
There were no windows, but a lamp stood on a table and another lamp hung from a hook set into the wall by the door. Both were lit, so the room was filled with soft light. There was one door. It was closed.
I wore a long garment of undyed cloth, like a shirt that came down below my knees. I did not like the thought that someone, a stranger, a Lau, had stripped me and taken my clothing away and dressed me again, and I had not even known. I had not understood until then that I must have been unconscious for some time. The Lau sometimes use herbs to make a man sleep. I thought they must have given me herbs of that kind, and I liked that thought even less. I wondered what other things they might have done to me while I slept. I could feel nothing amiss. At least it felt to me that I had woken normally.
On the table, along with the lamp, I found a stack of folded clothing. Like the clothing worn by the soldiers, the shirt was dark blue and the leggings black. My back was still tender from the touch of the cold, but I had been right that the cold had not struck hard; I could bear the touch of the cloth against my skin even though the shirt was tight across my shoulders and chest. The sleeves would have been too narrow and too long, but I unlaced them and put them aside. The leggings fit better, though I had to turn them up. The cloth was light, but in this room, it was more than warm enough. Here, I would have been too warm even naked.
I tried the door. It did not open. Barred doors are another thing we Ugaro do not build into our tents and wagons. When I listened, I could hear clattering. Not violent sounds. I thought a busy workplace or hearth must be nearby. It was the sound of people, of life, of living. I felt better for hearing it, though I knew the people I heard were not Ugaro.
I sat down cross-legged on the floor with my back against the stone wall and closed my eyes. I breathed slowly and thought about what I had done. I had saved them all. All those Lau. If I had not given warning, they would have died there, in sight of their own country, frost glittering in their hair and their eyes. Of course, if I had kept silent, I would have died too. But my own death would have been a small thing set against the destruction of so many Lau soldiers and that clever, impenetrable scepter-holder.
It was too late to take back the act. Nor could I be sorry I was alive, even if warning the Lau had been a mistake. Even though I was now a prisoner in the summer lands. A captive may escape his captors, but seldom indeed will a dead man return from the land of the shades. If I had missed the chance to destroy a talon of Lau soldiers, perhaps, as Lord Aras wished to make use of me, a different chance might come at a later time.
Unless he had died. The Lau will die of cold an Ugaro would never notice, and the river had been cold even for me.
Perhaps I should hope he had died. Perhaps I had been a fool to save him. And yet, once it was too late for my silence to destroy the whole talon, I did not think that I could have let him die. He had been generous to me. Also, I felt I knew him, a little. Even less than I wished to be his captive did I want to be the captive of some other Lau warleader.
Many steps approached, and came near, and finally halted outside the door. I stood up. I heard the bar being drawn back, and at the last possible instant I remembered to stand straight and raise my chin.
The man who opened the door was older than any of the Lau I had met so far, with gray in his beard. He wore the same kind of badge Talon Commander Samaura had worn, so I guessed he must be of similar rank.
He looked me up and down with open interest. “So you’re Lord Gaur’s Ugaro,” he said. “On your feet already! The surgeons thought you’d be down for a bit yet, but Lord Gaur thought you might be up. He’ll see you now, if you feel well enough. You look a sensible young man; I’m sure you won’t give me any trouble.” He looked at me narrowly when I did not answer and added, “I’m told you speak darau, so speak up and give me a civil answer.”
I had been distracted by my relief at learning that the warleader had indeed lived, and I did not much like this man’s manner. Nevertheless, I answered obediently, “I do not intend to cause trouble, Talon Commander.”
The man nodded approval. “That’s the way! Good. I’m Talon Commander Harana. This way.” He stood away from the door.
I stepped through the doorway. Not at all to my surprise, more soldiers waited there—three men. I had heard more footsteps than only Harana’s. I could not tell whether I had seen any of them before.
Talon Commander Harana told me, “These men have been assigned to guard you against every kind of trouble. This is Troop Leader Geras, Trooper Esau, and Trooper Suyet.”
“Yes,” I said, acknowledging each man with a small bow as
each in turn nodded to me. I could not always read Lau expressions, but if these men resented the duty they had been given, I could not see that in them.
Trooper Suyet seemed young to me. He had no beard, but I was not certain how old Lau might be when they grew beards, if they all grew beards. Few Ugaro men do, and not until we are older. I thought Suyet was about my age. He seemed easy-tempered, smiling as he nodded.
Trooper Esau looked older than Suyet. He was short for a Lau. He had broad shoulders as well—for a Lau. He might have had a little Ugaro blood in him, though that is rare. He had a hard look to his face, but he nodded to me in a way that did not seem unfriendly.
Troop Leader Geras was certainly the oldest, though not old. I thought he was older than my brother Garoyo, though younger than my father. But Lau live longer than Ugaro, and age differently, so I might not have judged his age correctly. Still, he was clearly the senior, and probably the others would take their cue from him. He nodded to me and said, “If you would come this way, young lord.” He indicated with a gesture which way I should go.
I would not have expected to be called lord. I tried not to show that I was startled, but I felt my face heat and knew I had flushed. One of the many ways in which the world is unfair is that Ugaro have so much more difficulty concealing what we feel than a dark-skinned people such as the Lau.
The hallway went a short distance, turned, and came to a stairway. We turned left again at the top and came to an open door. The talon commander gestured to me to go through this door. Apparently he did not mean to come with me, which surprised me a little, though three soldiers were certainly an adequate guard. They followed at my back as I entered a large, narrow room, perhaps three times longer than it was wide.
The room was, of course, far too warm, but the Lau must not have thought so, for great fires burned in each of two fireplaces, one set into the wall at either end of the room. The other wall, across from the door, was nearly all windows. The shutters were open to let in the breeze. Through the window, I could see the Sun standing high in the sky and in the distance, fields of stubble where grain had been harvested. Far away to the west, purplish mountains rose up to the sky. Much of the tension that had tightened my stomach relaxed. The wide sky and the distant mountains made me feel better, even if I were no less a prisoner.
Then I looked the other way, to the east, and saw many, many tents. All the Lau in the world seemed to have gathered here. Even from just a glimpse of the edge of that camp, I could see that the talon Lord Aras had brought into the winter country had been only a small part of those here. Now I saw why he had felt he could risk so many men on a sharp, narrow raid against my brother and my people. My stomach tightened again. I had not known so many soldiers had come into the borderlands. They had probably been at some pains to disguise the fact. I wondered whether our king knew this; whether the warleader of the inVotaro, whom our king trusted to lead all the tribes in war, knew it.
Lord Aras was seated at a broad table, cluttered with many thick books and loose papers and scrolls. Some of the papers were weighted with smooth stones, others with a sheathed knife or a glazed bowl. He had glanced up when I came in, and now got to his feet. He moved a little stiffly. I could tell that his ribs hurt him. His breathing had something of the thick sound that indicates lung fever. Perhaps he was a little pale. It was hard for me to tell such things in a Lau.
I had been impatient and angry, with myself and with the Lau, when I had woken in that room. But now that I faced the scepter-holder again, that fell away and I felt uncertain and badly out of place. I remembered not to kneel, barely, instead looking him in the face. It was not my place to speak before he did, so I said nothing.
He looked at me carefully. Then he smiled and said, “You look well, Ryo. How is your back?”
Immediately I felt better. I had not realized how much I depended on any sign of goodwill from him. Still, I saw that it must be so for a man captive among enemies, and decided I need not consider this a sign of disgraceful cowardice. I moved my shoulders to show I could do so easily. “The cold did not strike deeply, my lord. In another day, perhaps two, I will not feel it at all.” I hesitated. Then I added, keeping my tone level, “I think I slept much longer than such an injury would cause.”
“You were dosed with poppy,” he told me readily. “Our surgeons were afraid to work with you unless they could be certain you wouldn’t wake abruptly and violently. Please don’t take it as an insult. It wasn’t meant so. I’m sorry I wasn’t available to ensure you were treated with more courtesy.”
My anger eased. Lau cowardice was not an insult to me, though it spoke poorly of the surgeons. I could hardly be offended that Lord Aras had not prevented them from giving me their herbs when I knew he had been unconscious himself. I said, “I have forgotten the offense, my lord.”
He smiled at me. “Thank you, Ryo. The physicians said you were healing well. A Lau whose skin had been frozen like that might die. The skin would turn black and peel away, leaving raw flesh that would be susceptible to fever. I understand that your skin was already healing by the time they examined you. I don’t believe I had quite realized the extent of the Ugaro resistance to cold.”
I nodded. “I did not know you Lau could not swim in cold water.”
He glanced down, then up again, meeting my eyes. “You’re quite right. The men I lost nearly all died because the cold drove the strength from their limbs. I would also have drowned if you hadn’t hauled me across the river. I would have mistaken my own capability to withstand the cold. I did mistake it.” He paused, looking at me. After a moment, he said, “I lost sixteen men and more than thirty horses. But without your warning, I would have lost them all.”
I could not say that I wondered whether I should regret that warning. I said, because I know it must have been one of those lost, “I am sorry about your horse.”
“Thank you, Ryo. So am I. He was a fine animal. I was very fond of him.” He paused to clear his throat. “Nevertheless, I’m exceedingly grateful that our losses were not much heavier. I realize I should now release you to go back to your own people. That would be the least I should do in return for your warning. Unfortunately, I don’t find myself able to do that. I’m sorry, but you are too great a potential asset for me to return the debt I owe you as I plainly should.”
It had never occurred to me that he might let me go. I felt his words like the stroke of a knife: a cut too sharp to feel at once, but one knows pain will soon follow the blow. I bowed my head deeply to acknowledge his words, but also so that I could take a moment to compose myself. When I knew my expression showed nothing, I looked at him again. I spoke the truth. “My lord, I did not expect you to release me. I was given to you. You may do anything with me that you please.”
He looked at me searchingly. Then he said, “Well, that may be, but you’re not only a tuyo. You’re also my guest. I don’t want to weigh you down with chains or set you under close guard; I owe you far better treatment than that. I would like to treat you, in fact, far more as a guest and far less as a prisoner.” He paused. Then he said steadily, “Ryo, I want you to take oath to me. I want you to swear that you will hold yourself under my authority and obey my orders. I’m not familiar—”
Urgent shouting and pounding steps interrupted him, and we both turned toward the door. Though the sheathed knife lay near to his hand, Lord Aras picked up his scepter instead. I took several steps to the side, my hand going to my belt where my own knife should have been, though of course I had no weapon. The three soldiers closed up around me, their backs to me, their hands on the hilts of their swords, and I understood, with some surprise, that they had been told to protect me against any threat as well as to protect their own people against me.
A voice, raised in anger, snapped, “Lord Kasurat, your behavior is outrageous!” Then, hard on that exclamation, a handful of Lau surged into the room. Two handfuls. More than that. Eleven men in all, and most of them seemed to be shouting. One was Talon Command
er Harana, who said in a hard, angry voice, “My lord, it would’ve taken violence to keep them out, and tempting though it was, I thought I’d better leave it to you! Say the word and I’ll gladly have the whole lot of them thrown out! Or whipped into the street!”
Six of the other men wore a different badge, green instead of the brown and blue that had become familiar to me. But one man wore no badge. His clothing was all black, like Lord Aras, except with less gold thread and with the garments cut in a more flowing style. Also, he wore three rings and two armbands, each of gold set with green stones. This, I surmised, was Lord Kasurat. He was the one doing most of the shouting. One of the words he shouted was certainly Ugaro. I looked past the men guarding me, toward Lord Aras.
The warleader lifted his eyebrows. Then he lifted his scepter and cracked it down across the surface of the table. Even in that large a room, even with the shutters open, the sound was like a thunderclap. The silence that followed was immediate and startling.
Lord Aras said in a mild tone, “Karoles, thank you so much for escorting Lord Kasurat up to see me. I don’t quite see why you felt it necessary to invite his entire retinue, but no doubt it seemed sensible at the time. Lord Kasurat, may I inquire as to your concerns?”
The other lord sputtered for a moment. Then he jabbed a finger at me and snapped, “That is an Ugaro! You brought one of those savages into my house!”
Tuyo Page 5
