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

a sign to Tano to take his brother and follow my father, but I stayed where I was, beside Aras, upset and worried.

Aras appeared calm, but I knew he was concealing tension, perhaps fear, perhaps pain. The thoughts of everyone near us must hurt him. Though he hid this well, I could see the tension in his hands, in the set of his mouth. He said, “Ryo, you had better go.” I knew this was true. I had to go, and soon. But I still hesitated.

My mother came to us. She said to me, “Go, my son.” Then she said to Aras, “If you wish, you may come to my tent.” She included all the Lau with a small, graceful gesture. “All your people may come. I and other women wish to hear more of the woman’s part of this story.” She smiled at him, her manner exactly as always. “Or, if you prefer, we may speak of unimportant things.”

This offer, made in this way, at this moment, was much more important than her words suggested. Once everyone saw that my mother did not regard Aras with disfavor, they would begin to think perhaps his act had not been as offensive as it seemed at first—at least not so offensive as to be unforgiveable. Aras probably understood this. He did not smile, but he bowed his head and said, very politely, “Marag inGara, I thank you for your kindness, and your extraordinary forbearance. I would be glad of the chance to answer any questions you may ask about anything that happened.”

Now I could go. Turning, I jogged after my father.

The distance to my father’s tent was not great. He had not waited for me, but he had not been hurrying, so I did not come there too much behind the others. I went into the tent, not permitting myself to breathe quickly. Tano was already kneeling, his head bowed, in the place appropriate for young men, near the entry. He did not look up when I entered. His younger brother knelt behind him, as a boy that age should. He was perfectly still. Someone had taught him to be quiet. I went forward, knelt in the appropriate place, and bowed. Then, straightening, I waited.

My father ignored us all, arranging the coals in the central brazier and setting water to heat. After a little time, Garoyo came into the tent. Our father sat back, looking at him, and said, “The inTasiyo will probably attempt some attack against our people or against our herds. I think Yaro inTasiyo is certain to strike against us in some way. He will care nothing for the ban, especially as his people have already been ruined. He may try to strike at me or at one of my sons, but I think he is most likely to strike against my wife or one of my daughters, or perhaps, if he cannot come close to these women, some other inGara woman. What precautions have you set into place against this threat?”

I had not thought of this appalling idea, but Garoyo merely inclined his head. “Lord, I have instructed your wife and my sisters that they are not to go anywhere beyond our camp without at least two warriors to accompany them. I have given orders that no woman is to leave our camp without a warrior to accompany her; not even to go to the camp of an allied people; not even to the lake for water. I have asked your wife to instruct the women to move every tent and wagon close together. I have also set men to watch the perimeter of our camp, with orders not to permit entry to any man or woman they do not know, unless I personally give leave for that person to enter. No inTasiyo woman or man is to be permitted to come into our camp unless you give leave.”

“Good,” said my father. “I approve all this. The herds?”

“I have given orders to mingle our herds with the beasts inKarano brought with them. I know the inGeiro have done the same. That will provide more eyes to watch over all the animals. Even inTasiyo warriors should hesitate to attempt any act against the beasts if they must come against inKarano warriors to do so.”

My father nodded curt approval of all these precautions. He turned at last to Tano, “How old is this boy? What is his name?”

Tano looked up, but carefully, through his lashes. He answered very softly, “He has nine winters now, lord. His name is Ensu.”

My father studied them both. “You told me this boy has been taught nothing useful. You told me he has no worth to anyone.”

Tano raised his gaze at this, then caught himself and lowered his eyes again. “Lord, I said this, but I hope perhaps he may learn better.”

My father studied them both. Then he said to Garoyo, “Perhaps some respected warrior among the inGara does not have sons to teach. A man without sons might have room in his tent for a boy. In the tent of such a man, perhaps even this boy might learn all the things he should know.”

One corner of Garoyo’s mouth had tucked up just a little. He answered gravely, “I have no sons, lord. Now that Arayo inKera is a man, I have room in my tent for a boy.”

My father said, his tone stern, “Arayo inKera was well taught. Even before he was given to me, his father taught him everything a boy should know. Perhaps this boy is not worthy of my son’s attention.”

“He belongs to the inGara now,” Garoyo answered. “All inGara boys are worthy of the attention of the inGara warleader.”

My father nodded. “So. That is true, my son. Very well. You may take this boy into your tent if you wish. Take him away now. I will expect a good report