A man hurried past, an opaque outline. She waited. His footsteps faded. Sighing, she began to catch her breath.
Two hands closed on her shoulders.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
"Mistress Lerina," a familiar voice said. "What are you doing here?"
She turned and recognized the ruddy face of Barr, a gamekeeper, one of her father's men. The pounding of her heart eased.
The sounds on the path returned.
"Ascot!" Barr shouted.
"Ho?"
"I've found her."
Soon the heavy figure of Barr's son emerged out of the fog. Lerina recognized the shape of her pursuer.
"Thank the rythni you're safe, miss. Your uncle has been very worried."
"Come," Barr said, squeezing through the trees onto the path. "Let's be on to the hold."
The bearlike form of Ossatch Elb-Aratule loomed above her. Though Lerina had reached her adult height, she still felt child-size when confronted by him, especially when he assumed a mood of disapproval or anger, which was most of the time. As her family's eldest male, he was accustomed to obedience. She tried to draw herself up tall, earnestly missing the presence of her father, her first, and best, ally. An ember cracked loudly in the fireplace of Garthmorron Hold's great hall, where Barr and Ascot had escorted her as soon as they had arrived. Ossatch was the chamberlain and virtual lord of the manor when Lord Dran was absent.
Her great-uncle held forward her overtunic. The dip in the ocean hadn't quite washed out the bloodstain. "Where did this come from?"
"What were you doing in my room?"
"Don't be impertinent. If your mother were alive, she would have been frantic with worry – you gone all day with a murderer on the loose. You are my kin – I should know where you are at such times."
"I pricked my breast this morning with a kitchen knife. Would you like to see?"
Ossatch's expression blackened. "Answer my question. Where were you?"
"At the beach. I'm old enough to look after myself, Uncle." They had had arguments like this before.
"The oeikani the man rode was found not far from the hold. I'll not have my niece about until I'm convinced it's safe. You'll remain in the cottage tomorrow."
"But – "
"No, Lerina. I have spoken." He turned and stalked off, the echo of his footsteps measuring the sinking of her heart.
V
OMI ANDPEYRI SERVEDthe twins a porridge made principally of millet and goat's milk, together with a small platter of dates; to drink, a choice of very strong coffee or either of two wines, one of the grape, the other of the pomegranate. The meal seemed strangely soft, but the twins did not complain. They were grateful not to have to deal with heavy foods yet. They ate only a little of the porridge, but over a long period of time made generous use of the liquids. Plain water, for some reason, was totally absent.
"Maybe tomorrow an animal is slaughtered to honor new husbands," Fumlok suggested, as if to excuse the fare. "No time tonight. And to butcher is man's job."
The wives served the meal and remained unobtrusive, usually concealed behind a cloth purdah that segregated the tent into rough halves. The younger members of the family appeared not at all. For the moment, this social distance comforted the twins. The language barrier preserved them from the embarrassment of communication.
Fumlok stayed with them but didn't eat. Alemar suspected sharing food would create some sort of social debt the translator was reluctant to incur. Fumlok utilized the time to explain the implications of Elenya's lack of soul, a process hampered once again by his difficulty with the High Speech. He seemed unable to apply the subjunctive case, impeding his ability to convey abstract concepts. He tended to use the present tense regardless of what the context required. After most of an hour, however, the twins managed to distill out a rudimentary understanding of Zyraii mythology.
For as long as the tribe remembered, their dominant religious order, the Bo-no-ken, had taught that God created men and gave them souls as stakes in the Bu, the great game of life. A man sharpened and advanced his soul by conducting himself with honor, by contributing to the tribe's welfare, and/or by using his wisdom effectively. If he played the game well enough, after death his soul would pass to a new body to play the game again. If he dishonored or wasted a lifetime, he would return as a worm, animal, or other creature and endure whatever punishment in these forms that God willed, until he could become a man again. Warriors who died in battle, before they had lived enough of their lives for fair judgment, would automatically be reincarnated into a newborn of the same social status and similar physical abilities.
As for women, they were created merely to produce more men and to raise the children so that men, the players in the Bu, would be spared this burden, which might distract them from the real tasks. Females had no souls, and it was not appropriate that women should participate in any activities that would interfere in the Bu, and inadvertently lessen a man's chance for a good incarnation.
Thus, the Ah-no-ken, the religious order responsible for the daily affairs and conduct of the people, forbade to women the teachings of history, the pursuit of theology, and professional crafts not associated with homemaking. Most of all, they were forbidden to be warriors.
"So, a male spider has a soul, but I do not," Elenya stated wryly.
"I always thought something was missing," Alemar said.
She poked him in the ribs.
Rubbing his side, Alemar asked Fumlok, "What happens to a woman if she does kill a man in combat?"
Fumlok licked his lips. "Such a thing never happen before. But…they think of something."
"I'm sure they will," Alemar said. "But I don't understand the reasoning. Why should a man be any less a warrior because his sister carries a sword?"
Fumlok scratched his ear as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. He attempted to answer the question from a different angle. "Men are given a great challenge by God, but He also provides us with gifts to help us. For sake of man, woman is created – to soothe, to feed, to propagate. Women are given only the one life. They are not knowing the completeness of being. Men must remember this and be grateful to Him. A woman's life must not be wasted – she is the seed of more life and the measure of a man's success. To let a woman die before her time is to spit at God. Zyraii know that women are sacred, so women do not need to carry weapons to protect themselves. This cannot change. Women must not be endangered in raids." For Fumlok, the speech was eloquent; Alemar suspected he was paraphrasing.
Alemar sighed. "This is not what people in my homeland believe."
"Your people are wrong," Fumlok replied. It was the first time the little man had seemed certain of anything. "They know it in their hearts. Do you make soldiers of your women?"
"Not often," Alemar admitted. "But they are permitted to protect themselves. My sister would have died before now otherwise – today, in fact."
"That was a mistake. If she dress as a woman, she is not attacked."
"What does it matter who's right?" Elenya said sharply. "We're in trouble, and it's too late to do a thing about it."
"No, you are safe, maybe."
Eyebrows raised on both twins' faces. "What do you mean?" Elenya asked. The comment had seemed all the more intriguing because, at last, Fumlok had addressed Elenya to her person.
"This morning, Lonal save you by invokingniutap. It is adoption ritual. War-leaders have right to do this. If a widow is made in battle, the killer should take care of her. Niutapalso brings new blood to T'lil."
"How can you trust us?" Elenya interjected.
Fumlok held his finger up. "War-leader takes risk. He is responsible until elders accept his choice. Later, you are educated, and you are blamed if you disobey. For now, Lonal is embarrassed if you offend the laws of the So-de'es. His honor is dirtied. This is bad to happen at this time."