Tarashana by Rachel Neumeier (little red riding hood ebook TXT) 📕

when he needed me, that I had run away and left him to die. I knew that when I met him, I would see that memory in his face.

Aras breathed out, a slow breath. This time he said nothing.

I thought now I should have cut my hair after all. At least then Raga would see the memory was as bitter for me as it must be for him. I touched the hilt of my knife as I walked. I could still do it, though waiting this long to acknowledge a disgraceful act was shameful in itself.

“It would upset him,” Aras said, his voice soft.

“Do not show me that you see my thoughts,” I snapped. I had ceased to mind this, but I did not like it now. I added, cruelly, “Do not advise me regarding matters of honor.” I meant to hurt him, and was ashamed of that, but not as ashamed as I should have been because I also felt he deserved to be hurt. I knew Aras saw all those thoughts too. He said nothing.

Then we came to the village. This path was lined with the kind of trees that dripped with radiant white flowers; the fragrance came to me, a little like honey. The earthen houses spread out around us, easy to mistake for gently rolling hills, but surrounded by gardens and fruit trees. Here and there, Tarashana people went about their ordinary tasks. I saw Ugaro people among the Tarashana, not in the fields or gardens, but weaving or making rope, preparing food or carving tools out of wood.

Ugaro are not avila, not dirt people. We do not tend fields nor grow crops. At most, our herdsmen may throw out the seeds of the grasses we prefer to grow where the herds of our cattle or the steppe deer have grazed too much, then keep herds away until the new grasses have grown up. But my people are not accustomed to sitting idle, either, and their pride would not suffer taking food from avila with no return. I was not certain why I felt better to see Ugaro going easily among Tarashana, but the sight pleased me.

Fields spread out all around the village, with curving orchards between each field and the next. Many Tarashana people tended those orchards or worked in their fields, bringing the land back to fruitfulness after its long time fallow.

The village itself had been heavily planted with the flowering trees the Tarashana like so well and plant near all their homes. There were so many of these trees that it seemed we walked through an open woodland, where many slender paths led to small clearings, each with its gently rounded home that seemed part of the earth. Here and there a bird fluttered, or a small animal like a squirrel whisked up a tree. We passed very few people. These were Ugaro, who glanced at us and then politely away again. They knew there had been trouble between Aras and me, and would not put themselves into that trouble unless they had some important reason to do so. We say a quarrel will grow big enough to fill all the eyes that look at it. People look away so that a problem will not grow bigger than it must. Probably they also knew Hokino had put himself between us. When a warleader moves to deal with a problem, other people step out of his way.

Near the edge of the village, there was a place where three houses ran together, with a garden where they came together. The place was comfortable and pleasant, as everything the Tarashana made was comfortable and pleasant. The taut anxiety that thickened the air here could hardly be set against the Tarashana.

Geras and Suyet were sitting close together in the center of the common garden, on a wide woven mat spread on the ground. Coals glowed in a firepit near them. Lalani sat beside Suyet. Her arm was around his waist, and her cheek rested against his shoulder. Suyet had put his arm around her, too. Garoyo stood beside Geras and Hokino beside Suyet, making certain both soldiers stayed where they were. Even from a distance, I could see that Suyet was anxious and unhappy. Geras’ expression was set and hard, and that was worse. I saw at once that Suyet did not really believe I might kill Aras, but Geras was certain I would do it—he thought I had done it, and that they only waited to hear it was finished. He might set the fault for the act against me or against Aras or he might not set the fault against either of us, but he thought he had failed in his duty. He took fault to himself for that. Anyone could see it. Certainly I could see it.

The young men sat in a similar group, but a little distance away. Normally young men who had no important tasks would be challenging one another to spar or to some other kind of contest, or they would go hunting, or race their ponies, or something else of that kind. Now, all three only sat quietly, waiting. Arayo was making or mending something of cloth or leather. His head was bent over that small task. Raga was gazing into the firepit, his manner unhappy. Tano looked at his hands where they were folded on his knee.

Iro stood a little apart from the others, leaning against the bole of a tree at the mouth of another of the sheltered paths. He saw us first—he had been watching, and he was not concerned with the Lau soldiers. He did not move or speak, but his glance flicked from me to Aras. He did not smile, but he met my eyes, nodded, turned, and walked away, down the path.

I knew he would be going to my sister, to tell her I had come back, if she were close