Tuyo

by Neumeier, Rachel

  This time, my guards did not come with me. I knew that was because of my oath. Geras did not shut the door behind me, but left it open and stood in the doorway, his back turned to the room. I knew by this that he did not trust my oath entirely. I pretended not to think of any of this.

  Lord Aras had been seated at one of the small tables, where a map had been laid out, but he stood up when I came in. An Ugaro lord would never stand to greet a guest; he would expect a guest to kneel and bow in respect when he came into his presence. I made myself stand straight and look the warleader in the face.

  “Ah, Ryo, good,” said Lord Aras. I heard again the slight thickness in his voice. I was certain he suffered from at least a little lung fever, though he was pretending he did not, as he pretended I had not cracked his ribs. He said, “Please step over here and look at this map.”

  I obeyed. The river was shown clearly, all its bends and twists for a long distance, with the southern borderlands and some of the lands to the south. But the winter country was nearly blank. I looked questioningly at Lord Aras.

  “I’m going to send Talon Commander Samaura west tomorrow, with three talons,” he told me. “I will then take the greater part of my people east, upriver, toward Dumau Sen, and then Erem Sen beyond that.”

  “These are the towns that were burned,” I said, to show I was attending.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “A man called Marotau should have been in command of our forces in the area. I hope he’s still alive, because a good many things might become clear if I have the opportunity to meet Lord Marotau and ask him one or two questions.”

  Something about the way Lord Aras said this made me look at him. “You think this man is the sorcerer?”

  “If he’s still alive, I think he may be. I believe the sorcerer must be one of the lords of the borderlands, and for certain reasons Marotau is high on my list. If he’s dead, that will also tell me something useful.”

  I nodded. But I asked, “If he is a sorcerer, will you not put yourself at great risk if you confront him? What if he makes you his fool or his slave?” After I spoke, I realized this might be taken as insolence and added at once, “I do not mean to be disrespectful, my lord.”

  Lord Aras smiled. “I don’t think you could be disrespectful if you tried, Ryo. You’re an extremely polite young men. We would say, his dupe or his thrall.” The darau terms were almost like the taksu words, but not quite the same. I nodded. Then he went on, “The Lakasha-erra possess certain ... tools, let’s say ... that reduce that risk. My king long ago negotiated the use of those tools on my behalf, as I needed to be able to face the occasional Lau sorcerer, so I think he’s unlikely to be able to do that. You know of the Lakasha?”

  I had been staring in surprise, but now I collected myself and answered, “I do, my lord, from the tales I have read. These are the people who live in the land to the south of the summer country, where two Suns rise and set: the first Sun and also his eldest Son.” I could not help but add, “The tales that describe that land and those people are true?”

  “Yes, they are. I’ve been there.” He coughed a little from the thickness of the lung fever, but smiled again, his attention turned inward toward memory. “It’s a most astonishing land. The Lakasha are exactly as described: beautiful and terrifying.”

  I wished I could see that country and those people with my own eyes. According to the tales, it never rains in the land of the Son of the Sun. All that country is endless golden sand running out as far as the eye can see, with no forests or meadows at all. I could not imagine a land like that. Nor could I easily imagine the Lakasha. The people who live in the land of the Son of the Sun are strange and elegant and dangerous. They are even taller and more slender and darker-skinned than the Lau, but they have the heads of jackals. They are all sorcerers, many very powerful. They are said to make vast gardens in the desert by use of their magic, and to build great shining palaces as high as mountains for their rulers, who are giant lions with the heads of men and iron teeth. Those people are far away and they cannot bear cold, so no matter their power, they do not concern Ugaro, but I could readily believe that they knew ways to brush aside the work of Lau sorcerers.

  Lord Aras added, “Regardless, that’s my problem, Ryo, not yours.” He turned back to the map. “Now, this land along here must belong to your inGara tribe. I know the names of a few other tribes here to the east, but I would like to know a good deal more about the tribes here, and about the way the land lies to the north along this part of the river.” He paused, looking at me. Then he said gently, “I did tell you I meant to make use of you, Ryo. If necessary, I’ll do my best to defeat your people so decisively they cease all hostilities against the borderlands, but I’d rather persuade Koro inKarano to come to terms without either side suffering defeat. I hope that taking the sorcerer off the board will make that possible.” He paused. Then he asked, “Is it unreasonable for me to wish to know the names of the tribes I’m facing?”

  I could not say it was unreasonable. Everything he said was reasonable, but I still did not want to answer him.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Ryo, as yet you’ve hardly had time to find your feet. I’m perfectly aware that I’ve pushed you very hard today. I realize you might be feeling ...”

  A slight pause as he searched, I presumed, for a polite way to say vulnerable. Or perhaps fragile. I could hardly see any acceptable way to finish that sentence. So he would not have to try, I said, “I am perfectly well, my lord,” and picked up a stylus lying by the map. With this, I began to sketch the winter country onto the map. I drew in the rough extent of inGara lands, and inGeiro beyond that, and then inKera, and some of those farther east. Each of those tribes held lands that ran far to the north, so each territory was shaped like a wedge, with the narrow end running against the river and the broad end reaching into the steppes of the high north.

  Lord Aras studied the map, frowning. “I imagine all these tribes are currently under the command of the warleader of the inVotaro. Royova inVotaro. Is that right?”

  I was surprised he would know that name. I said, “Yes, my lord. Though I think this is not the same as saying your talons are under your command. But in war, the lords and warleaders of these tribes permit themselves to be guided by Royova inVotaro.”

  “Yes. And inVotaro is the warrior tribe, correct? They serve your king, Koro inKarano, almost as a standing army?”

  I knew the words he used, but I was not entirely certain of their meaning. I said, “The inVotaro have no lord of their own, but look to Koro inKarano for that kind of judgment. All the inVotaro are warriors. They have no craftsmen or herdsmen among them, and no women take that name, for the inVotaro seldom marry. When they do, their wives and daughters take the inKarano name and place their tents among those of the inKarano. Perhaps this is what you mean by a standing army.”

  “I think it’s close enough, though not exactly the same.” He turned back to the map, tapping the map just north of Dumau Sen. “What can you tell me about the inKera?”

  It seemed reasonable to me that Lord Aras should know the nature of his opponents, so I answered without hesitation. “That is a strong and honorable tribe. Soro inKera is their lord. Everyone respects him, though he is a hard-tempered man. He quarreled with my father, so our tribes are enemies, but the enmity is not bitter. An ally of ours would not wish to face you, my lord. But the inKera will care nothing for a tuyo given by the inGara.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Can you tell me about the inKera warleader?”

  I could not think of any reason I should not, so I answered, “That is Hokino inKera, Soro’s brother. I have not heard anything to his discredit. People speak well of him. He is said to be a shrewd man of steady temper. I am not surprised Dumau Sen could not stand against him.”

  “Will he wish to strike more deeply into the summer country, now that he’s once broken through our defenses at Dumau Sen?” He indicated one town and another, farther south, near the southern edge of the bor
derlands. “Kosa Sen or Lakana Sen?”

  I considered this. “I have never heard anyone call Hokino rash, but he probably would not hold back if he saw a reasonable chance to win honor in that way.”

  “Can you guess regarding the tactics he, or any Ugaro warleader, might use when striking that deeply into the summer lands?”

  I thought Hokino and his warriors would slip quietly across the river and then travel south very fast, probably jogging through the night. They would come hard against a town at dawn, burn the buildings, kill the cattle or drive them away, destroy the granaries, and kill any townsmen who resisted.

  After that they would all run for the river, in small groups or each one alone, before Lau soldiers could possibly come up in their formations to answer the raid. Lau soldiers would search ... but they would not spread out very widely, because the Lau do not like to come against Ugaro unless the numbers are very much in their favor. They have reason for their cowardly way of fighting: one Ugaro warrior will never hesitate to face two or three or four Lau soldiers, and our bows are better as well. So although some of the warriors would be discovered, most would probably manage to get back across the river. They would boast all year of their exploits.

  I did not say anything of this. I said, “I am not a warleader, my lord. Hokino inKera is said to be a shrewd man. He will not strike in a stupid way, but I do not know what he will do.”

  Lord Aras said, “We lost nearly a full talon at Dumau Sen. I’m not entirely certain how that happened, but I suspect your people provided some sort of tempting bait and ours broke their formation. Then, of course, the town was burned and the cattle driven across the river. But these early reports suggest that many of the townsmen were permitted to flee, especially the women and children. Is that characteristic of Hokino?”

  I was surprised he needed to ask that. I told him, “Few warriors of any tribe would strike down women and children unless a war has become very bitter. I have heard nothing that suggests the inKera would do such a thing without cause. My mother respects the wife of Soro inKera, though she is his third wife and young. My mother respects the wife of Hokino as well. Some years ago, when a woman of the inGara met an inKera man at the Convocation and wished to go to the inKera, my mother told my father she did not disapprove, though we were already enemies.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Your father was guided by your mother’s opinion regarding an enemy tribe?”

  I could not help but smile at that. “Everyone is guided by my mother’s opinions about everything.” After a moment, I added, “Though he values her advice, my father would not lightly bring my mother near contested territory. Especially not after your soldiers came too near our people, pursuing my brother and our warriors. He will have sent my mother and the other women north, out of your reach. Perhaps there is a different word in darau for the kind of wife a man sends out of danger, rather than brings with him into a place where battle may come.”

  “Ah.” Lord Aras was looking at me, his expression thoughtful. If he was amused or offended, I could not tell it. He said, “Geras is married, isn’t he? Many troop leaders marry; marriage is thought to settle a man, and their wives are useful in managing the thousand auxiliary tasks necessary to support a standing army. Or, I should say, useful in managing the talon wives, who are so necessary in those tasks. I’m not certain your people have any such, ah, institutions, as you don’t have standing armies. Ordinary troopers are not allowed to marry, but they may have talon wives. These women cook for a file, or two files, sometimes more. They do the washing and help with many other tasks. But I don’t believe they are like wives as Ugaro understand the term.”

  I was beginning to doubt that any Lau’s wife was like an Ugaro’s wife, but I did not say so. I thought the soldiers should cook for themselves and not bring their women into dangerous places. I did not say that either. Maybe it was different when so very many soldiers came to a place. This was something I wished to think about before I said anything about it.

  Lord Aras was also silent for a little while, thinking about other things, his eyes on the map. He said after some time, not looking up, “Many of the townspeople of Erem Sen were slaughtered, Ryo. Including many women and children. Or so early reports claim. Can you comment about that?”

  I looked at the map as well. “That would probably have been the inYoraro. I do not know them as well, for they are neither allies nor enemies of inGara. But the ordinary acts that occur during a war would not be enough for a tribe’s warriors to behave in that way. I think the people of Erem Sen must have offended the inYoraro in some important manner if anything of that kind occurred.”

  He nodded slowly. “I hope we’ll find that the first reports were exaggerated. Well. We’ll ride east tomorrow morning. Early. I have one or two ideas that might help ... re-shape the problems we face, perhaps.” He looked over at me and added, “I think I’ve enough to consider. You may go if you wish. I’ll speak to you again tomorrow.”

  I was glad to be dismissed. I felt the day had been very long, and if I could not be among my own people, then I wanted to be alone. But I turned back before I reached the door and said, “You should rest as well, my lord. The lung fever will cling if you do not rest enough.”

  He glanced at me sharply. Then he smiled. “Thank you, Ryo. My physicians tell me so as well, but they assure me the fever’s grip is easing. I’ll rest soon.”

  I nodded and went out.

  The room to which my guards took me then was not the windowless room where I had woken, but a different room again, on the highest floor of the house. This was far above the ground, a level with only two rooms. I was meant to stay in the smaller of these rooms, I gathered, and my guards in the larger.

  My room held only a bed and a small table. The bed was heaped with blankets, though I could not imagine even a Lau would need a blanket in such warm weather. Or perhaps they might: a fire had been left burning in a small fireplace. I shoved the logs apart with my foot and smothered the flames with ashes.

  The room was not uncomfortable, if the walls had not been stone and if the warmth had been less heavy. It was a corner room, so there were windows in two of the walls. The windows were high and the walls sheer, but I suspected that despite my oath, someone would be watching to be certain I did not try such a thing.

  One of the windows faced north. The shutters were open and the breeze came from across the river, still carrying a hint of the chill of the winter lands. That was welcome. The other window faced east, toward the field where the Lau tents stretched out in endless order. I preferred to look north instead. But when I looked down the green slopes and across the river to the snowy forest, the longing for my mother and my mother’s tent, for my brothers and my younger sister and my own people around me, rose up so strongly I could not bear to look any longer and turned away from that view.

  Sighing, I lay down on the bed. I closed my eyes to help myself think, but my thoughts went first in circles and then down into darkness, and I slept.

  -8-

  In the morning we rode east, away from Tavas Sen. Six talons traveled with us. Of the talon commanders, I knew Harana and made careful note of Ianan, the man who commanded the talon to which my guards belonged. He was lightly built even for a Lau, with a thin, high-boned face and a straight mouth. His manner was serious, even somber. I could not read his expression when he looked at me, but he spared a small nod for my guards before mounting his horse and riding away to join his talon.

  I rode near Lord Aras. He sat his horse with his back straight and his hands quiet. I thought his ribs still hurt him, but he hid it well. His mare, a beautiful deep-chested blue roan, had probably been chosen for her exceptionally smooth stride rather than her color.

  Two talons were mounted; the other soldiers walked. Those did not walk each at his own pace, but in strict order, one file of eight soldiers after another in neat rows, each man setting his foot down exactly in time with all the rest. If a warleader tried to make Ugaro walk in t
hat way, the warriors would stop listening to him and choose a different man to lead them. But the Lau soldiers did not seem to mind it.

  Behind the men came wagons, drawn by heavier horses. Women drove the teams and walked beside those wagons, so that was the same as among Ugaro, though the wagons were nothing compared to ours. We live in our wagons, those of us who live in the high north, and they are made to be beautiful and comfortable. Lau wagons are much rougher.

  I followed Geras’ glance as we passed the wagons and saw his wife Aedani driving one of the wagons. She was smiling in our direction, but neither of them lifted a hand or so much as nodded to the other as we passed. Of course a respected woman will be restrained in her manner, but none of the young women or girls waved either, and that was different from the way it would have been with Ugaro.

  At first we followed the river road, but soon took a smaller, rougher track that bore more to the south. We passed many fields that had been left fallow and many deserted farmhouses. Some had been burned, even those farther from the river. As dusk came to the summer lands, we camped in the midst of the fields. Many of the Lau brought out light coats and put them on. Suyet did. I raised my eyebrows at him. I was still too warm even now that the Sun had stepped below the edge of the world.

  “It’s chilly,” he told me. “Everyone agrees except you.”

  I would have been glad to argue this, but then a soldier came to tell me Lord Aras had sent for me.

  When I came to his tent, he stood up to greet me. “Ryo,” he said to me with a little nod. “As my guest, you’ll eat with me when that’s possible.” Food had been brought: bread and a kind of thick soup made with fish. He said, “I’d like to know much more about the winter country and about your people, but this isn’t an interrogation. Don’t answer anything if you’d rather not. Ask me anything that occurs to you; I’ll answer if I can. I know your oldest brother is the inGara warleader. Will you tell me something about your other siblings?”