Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  At that moment, Korram appeared over the top of the hill and hurried down the slope toward them. His face was bright and his gait eager.

  Thisti jumped to her feet from where she had been stringing flowers together in a chain and ran toward him. “Korram! You’re back! Can we come see the Lowlanders now? I’ve been waiting and waiting!”

  Korram laughed as he approached. “They’ve been waiting and waiting to see you too. I’ve told them all about you, and they’re eager to meet you.”

  Thisti’s eyes grew round. “Me?”

  “Well, all of you.” Korram glanced at the others. “First, do we have anything to trade? They’re preparing fruit and vegetables for us. Surely we have meat to spare, or lumjum?”

  “The meat and lumjum are for our supper and to eat while we travel tomorrow,” Thont objected. “We don’t have much extra.”

  “But we can spare them if we’re getting food from the Lowlanders in exchange,” Grandmother pointed out. “Get them ready, and we’ll bring them to trade.”

  Reluctantly, Thont bent to pick up the bag containing their food. “They’d better give us something we can actually eat if we’re going to hand over all this,” he grumbled.

  “What about the goats?” demanded Ernth. “Did the man agree to give them back?”

  Korram laughed. “Absolutely. And wait till you see them!”

  “Are they healthy?” Relth wanted to know.

  “Oh, yes. Healthy and fat. Come on, bring the food and come see.”

  “They’re eager to meet me, and I’m going to look extra pretty,” Thisti announced importantly. “Mother, can you fasten my flower necklace for me?”

  “Stop jumping up and down, then,” Charr ordered, bending to help her with the flowers. Ernth knew his older sister didn’t share her young daughter’s excitement. None of them did.

  Thisti ran in circles around the others as they rounded up the goats and called to their horses. “Let’s go, let’s go,” the little girl cried eagerly. Darting over to Korram, she seized his hand and began to tug him up the hill. “I can’t wait to meet your Lowlander friends. Do you think they’ll like me?”

  “I’m certain they will,” Korram assured her, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the others were following. “You’ll have to tell them all about yourself.”

  It was hard to goad the goats along without their spears, but Korram was adamant that they had to leave their weapons behind. Ernth hoped the Lowlanders would be unarmed as well.

  Slowly, their family climbed over the top of the hill and started down the other side. The Lowlander village looked just the way Ernth remembered it. The little buildings surrounded by rows of bushes; the apple trees, already dotted with fruit even though it was earlier in the year than the last time he had been here. But now there was a whole crowd of Lowlanders waiting between them and the first house.

  Involuntarily, Ernth’s fingers curled more tightly in Hungry’s mane. Were they armed? He didn’t see any bows this time, but you never knew.

  “Look at all the goats!” Relth exclaimed in wonder.

  Ernth blinked. How many goats had been in Otchen’s family’s flock? He couldn’t remember exactly, but definitely fewer than twenty. How many were there now? Nearly twice that, from the looks of it.

  “There are so many of them,” Thorst exclaimed, voicing everyone’s thoughts. “They’re letting us have all those?”

  “They are indeed,” Korram assured him. “The villagers have put a lot of work into caring for the flock over the last two years, hoping all the while that someday they’d be able to return them to their original owners. They’ve fed them, protected them, and bred them carefully so there would plenty more than they started with. Now they’re eager to give them back to show how sorry they are about what happened to Jenth and as a first step toward reconciliation.”

  Ernth stared. Of course it made sense that the flock would have grown, but it hadn’t occurred to him that it would be this big. Too many goats were too much work to guard and care for, so his family – and everyone else he knew – kept only enough to supply the milk their family needed. When any extra ones were full grown, their meat became part of the winter supply and their skins were used to make clothing and tents. He had never seen any single flock this large, nor had it occurred to him that one of such a size could exist.

  “Imagine what Otchen and his family will think,” he found himself marveling out loud.

  His sister chuckled. “They won’t believe it! They would have been amazed to get any goats back, but this many? They won’t know what to think!”

  Her husband grinned. “They’ll have all the meat they can eat this winter, that’s for certain!”

  “And the whole family will be able to travel together again,” Ernth finished. Although anyone who had been Accepted could choose to travel with someone else, it was rare for an entire family to split up the way Otchen’s had had to. They must have missed each other terribly this year.

  “You see, the Lowlanders really do mean well,” Korram, still in the lead, told the rest of them over his shoulder. “They’ll miss all the milk they’ve been able to enjoy over the last couple of years, so this is a big sacrifice for them, but they were glad to do it when I told them you’ll take the goats back to their rightful owners. Don’t forget to thank them and tell them how much Otchen and the others will appreciate it.”

  The two flocks mingled with bleats of greeting while the humans on either side eyed each other more warily. At the front of the crowd of Lowlanders, Ernth caught sight of a figure he recognized instantly. The man stood twisting his hands together, obviously nervous. When his eyes fell on Ernth, he froze.

  For a moment the two of them stared at each other, everything else forgotten. Korram was saying something, making introductions, but Ernth could focus on nothing but the man who had murdered Jenth.

  Hesitantly, the Lowlander stepped forward, and Ernth could see his hands shaking. “Listen, I-I’m so sorry about the girl,” he half-whispered. “So terribly sorry. It was an accident. I know it was my fault, but like I said in the note, I never meant to kill anyone. I have four daughters of my own, and I can’t imagine how I’d feel if any of them –” He broke off and swallowed hard. “Anyway, it’s good of you to come back and be willing to trade and all, after what happened. I hope you’ll take the goats to her family and tell them how sorry I am.”

  It was hard to hate someone who looked so genuinely miserable. His voice shook the way little Sench’s did when he was about to cry. Could this really be the same man who had shouted threats and shot at them?

  “I’ll take her family the goats,” Ernth told the man stiffly, not sure what else to say.

  “And your shoulder? I hope it healed all right. I’m real sorry about that too.”

  Ernth shrugged. “Shoulder’s fine. I’ve got a scar, that’s all.”

  “My friends have brought you some gifts in token of their goodwill,” Korram announced to the Lowlanders. “They thought you might like some freshly-caught fish and some rabbit and lumjum.” He gestured for Thont to bring the bags over, then paused. “Do you know what lumjum is? I didn’t at first. They can explain how to cook it.”

  Several of the Lowlanders stepped forward to receive the food, murmuring thanks. Thisti, who had been staring around wide-eyed at the crowd and the buildings, suddenly gasped, her attention caught by the sight of a child about her own age appearing from between two of the adults.

  “Look, everyone!” Thisti exclaimed, pointing. “It’s a little girl, just like me!”

  The other girl, evidently the man’s daughter, slipped her hand into her father’s and gave Thisti a shy smile. “Hello.”

  “I didn’t know Lowlanders have children just like regular people,” Thisti exclaimed, and nervous laughter rippled among Lowlanders and family alike. She pushed through the goats and stepped right up to the other girl. “I’m so excited! My name is Thisti, and today I went fishing with my mother and caught two fish
, but one was too small so we threw it back. I like lumjum cakes and pink flowers and rabbit-fur clothes, and I’m good at somersaults as long as the grass is soft. I have a little brother who likes to follow me around, and my father is going to make us both new shoes for the winter, and someday when I get Accepted I’m going to have the most beautifulest horse in the mountains.” She paused for breath. “What about you?”

  The other girl giggled. “My name is Enna and I’m seven years old. Today I helped my mother make bread and iron the clothes. I like apple pie and hair ribbons and my doll that Grandmother made for me, and I’m good at hide-and-seek. I have three big sisters and all of them are bossy, and I’m gonna get new shoes for the winter too. And someday I’m gonna be a teacher and then all the other children will have to do what I say.”

  Thisti turned back to her parents. “Did you hear that? She’s not dangerous. And she’s got a grandmother too!”

  “Our cat has five kittens and they’re fun to play with,” Enna ventured. “Do you want to come see?”

  Thisti’s eyes widened in delight. “Can I, Mother, Father, please?”

  Thont frowned. “Where are they?”

  “In a basket on the porch.” Enna’s father pointed to the building nearby.

  “All right,” Thont told his daughter reluctantly, “but stay out where we can see you.”

  The two little girls ran off together, Enna in her long dress and pigtails, Thisti in her speckled goatskin tunic and breeches and dark matted hair. After a moment’s hesitation, Sench uncorked his thumb from his mouth, pulled his hand out of his mother’s, and started after them, calling, “Wait for me! I wanna play with the kittens too!” Most of the adults smiled after them.

  “We, uh, have a few things for you as well,” Enna’s father ventured, taking a sack from the woman beside him. “Some potatoes and string beans from our garden.” Hesitantly, he held it out to them.

  Ernth wasn’t sure what potatoes and string beans were – some disgusting sort of Lowlander food, probably – but his sister stepped forward and took the sack.

  “And we brought walnuts,” a woman put in. At least those were familiar.

  “And some corn,” added another man, indicating a basket at his feet.

  Several of the Lowlanders handed them bags or little bundles of food, which Ernth’s family accepted with awkward nods or words of thanks. It was oddly unreal to see Lowlanders giving them things without asking for anything in return; odder still to see their nervous smiles and attempts to be friendly.

  “Since it’s getting toward evening, why don’t we milk the goats and then all have supper together?” Korram suggested with far too much enthusiasm. “We could build fires right here and have a big cookout. It would be fun!”

  Nobody else looked quite as excited at the idea as he did, but many of the Lowlanders nodded. Ernth and his family exchanged quick glances. “We’ll vote,” Grandfather decided.

  “We really should do this,” Korram pressed, his voice lowered so only the family would hear. “It would be a shame to leave when things are going so well. Besides, then you can show them how to cook the lumjum. If they know how to prepare it, they’ll probably be willing to trade for more the next time you’re in the area.”

  “And we need them to explain how to cook those things they gave us,” Grandmother pointed out.

  They voted. Ernth was the only one who said no, mostly because he felt they all expected him to. But it was a halfhearted no. Even he had to admit that there were good reasons to stay.

  Immediately, Korram took charge, telling everyone what to do and how to arrange the cooking and sharing. At his instructions, Lowlanders hurried to their homes and returned with pails, since Ernth and his family hadn’t brought their milking pouches. They worked together to milk the goats from both flocks, and then the milk was shared out among all the children and everyone else who wanted some.

  In the meantime, others lit fires and set out the food that had just been traded. There wasn’t enough for everyone, but many of the Lowlanders went off to fetch their own food from the buildings, bringing it out to eat with the rest of the group.

  It was strange seeing so many cooking fires so close together as dusk fell. Ernth had never eaten supper with more than one or two other families at a time except at the Mid-Autumn Gathering.

  Thisti and Sench begged to sit with Enna and several other Lowlander children at the next fire over, and Thont and Charr joined them to keep an eye on their son and daughter. The Lowlander children’s parents introduced themselves, and one of them asked what it was like raising little ones in the wilderness. Soon the adults were conversing, if a bit stiffly.

  At Korram’s urging, the rest of the family reluctantly divided up to join Lowlander families at different campfires. Ernth found himself sitting with Thorst and Relth and their baby among a dozen strangers. Though some of them were trying hard to be friendly, he could tell most of them were as uncomfortable with this arrangement as he was.

  The Lowlanders brought out pots and pans and demonstrated how to prepare the items they had brought. Thorst and Relth listened carefully and asked questions, and then Thorst explained the various ways to cook lumjum.

  That’s what I’ll eat tonight, decided Ernth, who didn’t care for the look or smell of the Lowlander food. But he did join the others in cracking walnuts between rocks and munching them while they waited for the fire to burn down to coals and for everything to finish cooking.

  Full darkness had fallen by the time the meal was ready, and the sound of conversation drifted over from around the hillside. Korram moved from fire to fire, sitting down at each just long enough to accept a few bites of food and compliment everyone on their cooking skills. He told jokes and asked questions to get conversations going, and as soon as people began talking more freely, he slipped away to join the next group.

  The family lingered in the village until late that night, much later than they usually stayed up. They added more wood to the fires and sat around them, just talking. Ernth, who had nothing he particularly wanted to say to any of the Lowlanders, eventually got up and wandered around to see what the others were doing. But most of his family members had finally gotten involved in conversation and were answering questions about life in the mountains or asking about Lowlander customs they had always wondered about. Somehow, sitting together in a fire’s circle of warmth while the sparks drifted up toward the stars seemed to have made everyone more comfortable. Even Ernth had noticed that in the firelight the Lowlanders seemed almost like regular people.

  The children were dozing in their parents’ laps when the family finally rose to wake the sleeping goats and prepare to leave. Ernth overheard his father promising one of the Lowlanders that they would return to the village with more lumjum the next time they passed through the area. Thisti, he noticed in the firelight, now sported a pink ribbon tied around her hair. Her friend Enna was wearing the chain of flowers.

  As they turned to go, the man who had killed Jenth came up to Ernth with a bulging sack in his hand. “Some apples for you,” he offered with a tentative smile.

  Ernth didn’t smile back, but he decided it couldn’t hurt to take the gift. And to thank the man with a nod.

  Part 2: The Rite of Acceptance

  Chapter 9

  Korram was exhausted after their late night, but there was no sleeping in when you had goats to milk. It felt as though he had barely fallen asleep when he awoke to the sound of voices and realized that Ernth – and probably everyone else – was already up. Reluctantly, he pushed aside his goatskin blanket.

  Last night had been a tremendous success – more than worth any amount of drowsiness today – and he was proud of himself for making it happen. Briefly, he wondered if his father would have been proud of him too. He knew Mother would be, when he told her about it someday. Perhaps Arden would even write a song about the beauty of new friendship between former enemies.

  But for now there was an extra-large flock of goats to mil
k and a long day’s trek ahead. There had been no sign of assassins, and none of the villagers had mentioned sending word to Rampus. Perhaps his messenger hadn’t made it this far into the Impassables. But it would still be wise to leave the area just in case, Korram thought. Yawning, he crawled out of the tent.

  He helped with the milking and then joined the others around the fire as they divided up the milk. There was something about the way the others looked at him over the tops of their pouches as they sipped that told Korram they had been discussing him again.

  “Last night was a new kind of experience for us,” Ernth’s grandmother Carch told him finally. “What you did was impressive.”

  Korram shrugged modestly. “Making peace between Mountain Folk and Lowlanders is exactly the sort of thing I plan to keep doing when I’m king.”

  “If you succeed, it would make a big difference in our lives,” Ernth’s aunt, Silanth, put in. “We’ll tell our people about it when we see them all.”

  “And the time has come,” went on Carch, “to tell you more about that event. We’ve decided for certain that we’re going to bring you with us.”

  At last! Korram grinned in delighted relief. He had passed their test! Now all he had to do was talk the rest of the Mountain Folk into joining his army.

  But when he saw the others’ serious faces, his grin faded. There was something they hadn’t told him yet. Their expressions suggested that they were about to reveal a big secret, perhaps one that no Lowlander had ever been told before.

  “We will come together with the rest of our people,” Carch informed him, “at the Mid-Autumn Gathering.”

  Everyone turned to look at Korram, as if watching for his reaction to a startling revelation. “Do you mean all the Mountain Folk will be meeting together in Mid-Autumn?” Korram clarified.

  “All of our people,” old Carch confirmed, nodding.