Tuyo

by Neumeier, Rachel

  “Have they?” my father asked Royova.

  The inVotaro warleader sighed. “Yes. If all this is true, then I have probably sent many of my own warriors into that danger. Also many of the inYoraro and the inKera—”

  I straightened. “The inKera?”

  “The inKera are our enemies,” my father said, frowning at my reaction.

  “Yes,” I acknowledged, though in my surprise and dismay, I had actually forgotten this. “But Hokino inKera is a brave and honorable man. He was generous when he came upon us in the forest—”

  My father held up his hand, stopping me. “You met the warleader of the inKera in the forest?” he asked. “In their own territory? While you were mad, and in company with a Lau sorcerer who is also a warleader and the arm of the summer king? What explanation could you possibly have offered Hokino inKera at such a moment?”

  My face grew hot. “I did not mean to meet anyone until we came to inGara lands. My carelessness was disgraceful, lord. I had no choice but to ask him to believe that I had not brought the Lau warleader into the winter country for any disgraceful purpose, even though I could not explain anything. I am still astonished he believed me, but Hokino inKera was extraordinarily generous to me—to us both.”

  My father frowned at me. Then he said to Royova, “What happens to an enemy tribe is of little concern to inGara. But recently I have decided I might consider a request to cease enmity with the inKera should such a request come to me. Tell us what has happened.”

  Royova nodded. He said, “In addition to inKarano and inVotaro, we gathered six tribes to strike against the borderlands at Erem Sen and east and west of that town: inSeniko, inTerika, inYoraro, inKatara, inGerenaro, and inKera.”

  This made sense to all of us who knew those tribes and the way their territories lay.

  “I was first among the warleaders there. At first my strategy seemed good. We began at Erem Sen. We lured Marotau and his soldiers into the winter country and killed them all. Then we destroyed the town. I meant for the Lau to come in force to that area. But they delayed. I grew impatient and suggested other towns that might be destroyed in the same way.” He looked at Aras. “Now I think your enemy wished me to provoke your people. I think he caused this delay because he wished Ugaro to burn more towns. If he wished that, he succeeded. Of the towns I meant to destroy, only Kosa Sen and Loran Sen remain undamaged. I think that was your doing. I think your enemy had his way elsewhere.”

  “Our enemy. Yes, warleader, I think everything you say is correct. Loran Sen was defended successfully?”

  “It was.”

  Aras sat back, nodding thoughtfully. He made no further comment, but asked, “What happened after that?”

  Royova considered him. Then he said, “Eventually, as I intended, many-many Lau crossed the river into the territories of the inKera and the inYoraro. I had set my own warriors to support those tribes. Tirowa inYoraro and Soro inKera should have sent me word of their victories; or if our strategies had gone badly, they should have sent word of that. No one came. I sent men to see. Some of those men returned, but others did not. Then at last warning finally made its way to me: word that a sorcerer might be using this war for his own purposes. I think now that warning came too late. The sorcerer had already come upon us.” Royova paused again.

  I asked quietly, “This was the warning that Hokino inKera brought? Had that warning been delayed in some unusual manner, warleader? I would have thought it would come to you much faster than that.”

  Royova gave me a long, measuring look and then a slow nod. “It had been delayed by ordinary problems ... or I thought so then. Now I wonder if the man who brought that warning might have been the sorcerer’s fool.”

  Aras said, “This is not unlikely. That tactic was one our enemy used against me.”

  Another nod. “I was considering what I should do next. Then word came from Lutra inGeiro, regarding another sorcerer here. So I came to see. Now I understand better what our enemy wishes to do. I thought I was drawing many Lau soldiers into my trap, but I think now I sent many Ugaro warriors into his trap. I think he means to use them in such a way as to create bitter feeling among all our tribes. Some he will use to inflict atrocities against the summer country, creating bitterness there as well.”

  Aras sighed. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Yes, warleader, I think this is exactly so. Certain things that have happened in the summer country over the past few years make far more sense to me now. He means to use your people to make the southern counties support his war. I am sure he means to unseat my king through, no doubt, a complicated series of machinations.” That word was in darau. It was not a common word. I said in taksu, “Schemes.”

  “Yes, thank you, Ryo. Schemes. He probably first means to use your warriors to destroy my own soldiers. Too many of them know about him, and he will fear I am not dead and might return to challenge him. He will have difficulty enthralling—enslaving—them, and even if he does enslave them, I may be able to free them if I can come near them. Therefore they will be a danger to him. He will want to kill them all. I hope he may not find this as easy as he hopes, but he will probably try.”

  “Some of your people will have escaped when he ambushed us,” I said. I was asking for reassurance, but I made my words confident. “Geras will have escaped, and some of the others. Talon Commander Harana knows some of this, and he will have learned more. He will be careful. Lorellan will not be able to do as he wishes.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right,” Aras said gently in darau. Then he switched back to taksu and went on, his manner once more calm. “If Lorellan can take the borderlands, he will not need to enslave many southern Lau in order to seize power more broadly. After what he has arranged, he expects to be acclaimed. But I think he plans more widely than that. The things Darra inKarano heard explain glimpses I saw in Lorellan’s mind. I think he means to harness the dedicated strength of the summer country to drive your people far into the north. He will claim your forests for the summer country, possibly forcing the river itself to shift north. I expect he intends to trade timber to the country of the Son of the Sun ... well, that is not important now.” Aras paused. Then he said, “I think he need not have everything as he wishes. But striking at him will be difficult. Among other problems, it will be difficult because if anyone but me comes near him, he will see that person’s thoughts. Yet in order to destroy him, we have to lay plans; and to carry them out, we must face him.”

  He was right. Whenever a powerful sorcerer made this kind of trouble, someone had to risk everything to come near enough to kill him. My stomach tightened at the thought of any Ugaro warrior, perhaps someone I knew—my brother, even my father—making that attempt and failing. Being brought before Lorellan. I tried not to imagine that, but the images were hard to push out of my mind.

  For the first time, I realized that I would never have the courage to risk such a thing myself. The mere thought sickened me: a powerful, appalling wave of nausea. Lorellan had taught me fear, which I had known, but I saw now I had allowed him to teach me true cowardice. I would never have the courage to go anywhere near him. If I realized he was approaching, if I feared he might seize my mind, do to me again the things he had done before, I would forget everything else and bolt for the high north, where no Lau could follow.

  I did not want to believe this of myself. But I knew it was true. I lowered my eyes, drawing a slow breath as I struggled with this new knowledge.

  “Stop!” Aras said to me sharply in darau. “Fear is natural. But if you had to face him again, you would do it. Don’t condemn yourself for cowardice now, in advance of a trial you haven’t faced and wouldn’t fail.”

  I stared at him. Then I said coldly, “My mother speaks darau.” Darra also spoke darau, but I was far too embarrassed to say that.

  “Your mother knew what you were thinking almost as clearly as I did. She couldn’t speak to your fear because she isn’t a warrior and it’s not a woman’s place to correct you in matt
ers of courage or honor.”

  My mother was pretending to be lost in thought about something else. My sister had turned to Darra, and they were speaking quietly to each other, pretending they were not listening. This did not help at all. “It is not your place to correct me either,” I reminded Aras, even more coldly. “You no longer hold authority over me.”

  His head went back a little. He had forgotten this. But he said, every word sharp and precise, “I have the right of a warleader to correct a warrior, and the right of an older man to correct a younger, and, Ryo, I am not going to keep silent when you are that badly mistaken.”

  Though I had not realized I was going to move, I found myself on my feet. Aras did not flinch, though his mouth tightened. He said, still in darau, “I will not apologize. You may strike me if you wish.”

  I stared at him, now truly furious. “You know I will not strike you!”

  “I can’t be sure when you’re this angry. I’m fairly certain your people would say I had earned a blow, and I don’t think I would be able to disagree.” But then he said more gently, “Ryo, this is a young man’s mistake. If you were older, you would know better. If this concerned someone else, you already know better. Do you think your brother would feel differently in your place? Geras? Even Esau? Would you accuse them of cowardice? Would you doubt they would each do whatever they had to do, if they came to the moment? Think of Suyet. If he thought he was too afraid to face some trial, you would tell him what I’m telling you now. It’s wrong for you to judge yourself by so harsh a standard, especially one you know is false if it’s set against anyone else.”

  He was right. I could see it when he said it that way. Sitting down again, I said in taksu, not very graciously, “I take no offense.”

  For a little space, no one said anything. Royova watched Aras, his expression thoughtful. I remembered that he, too, might speak some darau. If he did, I did not want to know it. I did not look at anyone. My sister got up and came to sit beside me. She leaned her head on my shoulder. That made me feel a little better. She said, “If you go to face our enemy, I wish to go as well,” and that made me forget about myself completely.

  “No,” Aras and my father said together, in exactly the same tone. My father raised his eyebrows, and Aras flung up his hands in complete exasperation. “I cannot help it! Very well! I apologize, lord. I had no right to speak. If you wish, I will take your blow for it.”

  “Your nature is not that of a humble man,” my father observed. “No rebuke would teach you to be humble. You are not inGara; I am not responsible for your manners. I believe I will not trouble myself.”

  Aras smiled, but then he bowed his head. “You are a generous man, Sinowa inGara. I am glad of it, because I have a suggestion you will not like.”

  My father’s eyes narrowed, but he said, “I will listen.”

  “I sent my nephew—a talon commander, an important warleader of mine—west. This was many days ago. He was to take three talons, set himself in the way of Ugaro raiding parties and looking for certain signs that might indicate a sorcerer had been putting his will on people in that part of the borderlands. He had a list of names—well, that is not important. Some days ago, I sent men of mine to him with information and advice. Now I would like to send someone again. This must be a person who speaks good darau. Someone intelligent and brave. Someone willing to permit me to set a false memory into her mind—”

  “Oh!” said Etta, sitting up straight. “You mean me! I would not be afraid of that!” She turned eagerly to our father. “I would—”

  “No,” he said flatly. Now he was not amused at all. His shoulders and back had tightened. He was angry, but he did not move.

  My brother frowned, but said nothing. Royova inVotaro watched my father, his expression unreadable. My mother merely waited, perfectly calm. I thought this suggestion must have surprised her, but she did not show that. Darra inKarano tried to put on that same imperturbable air, but she was not old enough to show that unbroken serenity. The suggestion had distressed and angered her. I said, not quite looking at Darra, “When Aras does such a thing, it is not the same as when Lorellan does it. The false memory would not hurt Etta.”

  “It would not hurt her,” Aras agreed. “But the lord of the inGara is not afraid I would hurt his daughter that way. He is afraid something else might happen that would hurt her.” He looked steadily at my father. “Sinowa inGara, there is no safety in life or in living. But right now, any Ugaro woman who goes to my nephew may be safer than any woman who stays anywhere in the forests, even as far north as this. I need someone to carry this message for me. Who else would be a better choice?”

  “I would do it,” I said, glancing back and forth between Aras and my father. I feared my father would declare himself bitterly offended; I did not know what might happen then. But neither of them even glanced at me.

  “I need you for something else,” Aras told me, but even then he did not look away from my father. “Lord, I would not suggest this if I thought it was too dangerous. Her eldest brother could go with her to protect her from the dangers of the winter country—”

  Garoyo began to speak, but Aras lifted a hand with such authority that he checked himself, though he frowned. Aras had already forgotten again that he held no right to command, and his gesture had been so assured that for that instant my brother had forgotten it as well. I knew our father had not. But he only listened, his eyes hooded, as Aras went on. “Garoyo could make certain my own men were there before Etta crossed the river. He could go into the summer country with her. There, he would protect her from any offense and she would also protect him from any misunderstanding. My nephew would make certain that no one insulted your daughter. He is an important asset. It is time to bring him into play.” He used a darau term from sestaket for that last phrase.

  I said, “The moment is upon us when we should take up the knife left ready to the side.”

  “I understood,” my father said shortly. He had never looked away from Aras. His stare was hard.

  “I would not expect anything else,” Aras said. “I would not protest. But will you consider my suggestion?”

  “I think,” said my father, “that you are not very accustomed to offering suggestions.”

  Aras blinked. He drew a breath, let it out, and bowed to the floor. “Lord.”

  My father said curtly to Royova, “You and I should talk.” He jerked his head at Garoyo as well, stood up and walked out.

  Royova barely smiled. He said to Aras, “Not remotely humble.” Then he stood up and followed my father. Aras straightened slowly, gazing after them.

  My brother glanced at me, but he said to Etta, his tone resigned, “Try not to seem so enthusiastic. That is not at all appropriate.”

  Our sister only laughed. “I would like to see the summer lands and the Lau,” she told Garoyo. “Do not scowl so! I know this is important! You do not need to say so!” Garoyo tilted his head skeptically, but his mouth crooked out of its stern expression. Etta went on earnestly, “I would not embarrass our father or our people. Tell Father I would not! I speak very good darau, you know I do, and I am not afraid of our sorcerer.”

  “You are not afraid of anything,” Garoyo said, his tone dry. “I do not need to tell him that.” He got to his feet and went out, walking quickly to catch up with the older men.

  Aras sighed, a long breath, and pressed his hands over his eyes. He said in darau, “You might have corrected me before it was too late, Ryo.”

  “My father is not irretrievably offended,” I told him. “Did you think so?”

  “I couldn’t quite tell. He’s furious. I don’t blame him. I shouldn’t have proposed anything of the kind ... at least not today. But tomorrow would have been no better, and the days rush past ... I’m surprised he didn’t hit me.”

  “My husband feared that if he raised his hand, my son might put himself between you. He would not risk such a thing before the witness of Royova inVotaro,” my mother explained. I looked at
her in surprise, but she went on, her manner perfectly serene. “Darra, what would you say to your father if my daughter took this false memory and went into the summer lands, as our sorcerer suggests?”

  Etta stilled.

  Darra considered her folded hands. She said eventually, “I would tell my father that Marag inGara approved, so probably it was not a terrible idea.” She glanced at Aras. “I would tell my father that this sorcerer is far too arrogant to be false-hearted, that a man who wished to deceive would be more circumspect. I would tell him that the sorcerer is forceful in correcting mistakes, and that his judgment seems good to me.” She glanced at me and then away again. I knew she was thinking of what Aras had said to me about courage. I looked away, my face hot.

  Darra pretended not to notice. She said, “I think I might say that Ryo inGara has been changed by the things that have happened to him, but that a man is changed by everything important that happens. I think I might say it is too early to know whether the change is a good thing or a bad thing.”

  I had not expected her to say that last part. I could not declare she was wrong, but I had to make a sharp effort to stay where I was rather than jumping to my feet and walking out.

  “Perhaps both,” my mother suggested. “As is often true for important changes that come to the heart.” She picked up the pot of tisane and offered it to Aras. “Do not fear my husband,” she said. “That is not something I would say to an Ugaro warrior, but I do not think you will be offended.”

  “I cannot imagine I would be offended by anything you say, singer.” Aras held out his bowl and allowed my mother to fill it.

  “My husband is swift to anger and his anger is slow to ebb,” my mother told him. “But he never permits his anger to rule his hand. Let your heart be calm, and tell me of your nephew, and your people, and your country.”

  That was when I knew my father would permit my sister to go south, with my brother to escort her. I was grateful because it meant neither of them would go east, toward Lorellan.