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

not irredeemable. He should not be cast out of the inGara. He should be beaten very severely.” I met my father’s eyes and added, “But please, lord, not today.”

My father smiled slightly. He said to Tano, “My son is remembering a day when he was your age. He earned two beatings that day, one from Garoyo and one from me. Twenty strokes, and then twenty and ten.”

I could not help but smile as well. “Yes, that was what came into my mind. I am unlikely to forget that day.” I added to Tano, “I deserved both those beatings. In some ways, I was a much more difficult young man than you are. I thought I was right about everything. This is a problem you do not have at all. But it would never have occurred to me to bring a false charge against any man for any reason. That is a problem you have.”

“Yes,” he said, bowing his head to me. He said to my father, “I would be grateful if my punishment is only a beating, lord, however severe.”

“Yes,” my father said. “You should be. The cuts on your back should be fully healed in seven days. When those days have passed, bring me a whip. Ryo will show you the kind I mean. I will beat you in front of everyone, so that everyone understands inGara does not take lightly the fault of sly dishonesty.” He added sternly, “You will stand properly, not as you did today. You will stand straight and demonstrate a warrior’s courage.”

“Yes,” Tano whispered. Then he said properly, in a clearer voice, “Yes, lord.”

“It is easier when the whip is not held by an enemy,” my father said more gently. “You will stand as you should.” Then he spoke sternly again. “During the coming year, if any respected warrior corrects you for anything, you will bring me a whip and explain your fault. If the fault involves any kind of dishonesty or slyness or dishonorable action, I will beat you again myself. If you act in any dishonorable way that no one sees, you will come to me in the same way and explain your fault. If you are not certain, you will come to me and ask for judgment. In a year, if this is still a problem, if I have come to believe you cannot learn to behave as you should, I will put you to death or send you out of the inGara or make whatever other decision seems necessary. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Tano said, subdued. “I will do as you say.”

My father nodded. He looked at Tano for some time, consideringly. Then he said, “I do not think I will have to make any decision of that kind. I think in a year you will not be the least of my warriors. I think you will earn everyone’s respect and good regard. When you have as many winters as Ryo has now, I think you will have become a warrior who brings honor to the inGara. When you have as many winters as my older sons have now, I think younger men will look to you to set the example for how a man should behave, and they will be right to do so. Perhaps I am wrong. But I do not think this is likely. Go to Garoyo. Do as he tells you.”

Tano was staring at him, utterly astonished. After a pause, he blinked, bowed low, rose to his feet, and went out.

My father looked at me. I bowed, and straightened, and waited for him to speak. He sighed. Then he said, “Be certain that in seven days the young man is able to stand perfectly. He must not fail.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“He is very intelligent, and he makes decisions quickly. That is a good thing and a bad thing.”

“Yes, lord.”

“His brother is too young for bad teaching to have ruined him. The boy will not have this kind of trouble.”

“No, lord. I think that is not likely.”

My father made an impatient gesture. “Say what you wish, Ryo.”

I laughed. This was not properly respectful, but I could not help it. I said, “My father knows exactly how to handle young men. You have given Tano a standard he would rather die than fail to meet. He will do exactly as you ordered, no matter how difficult that may be. I told him to be strict with himself, and for me he tried to obey. But for you, he will do better than try.”

“I could be wrong in my judgment.” But my father was smiling a little himself.

“You know you are not wrong. The eagle favored him. In making certain this young man becomes a warrior any man must respect, you will please the gods. Our people will be lucky in the coming years because the gods will return to us the generosity you extend now to a young man who was the son of a bitter enemy.”

My father said mildly, “You were the one who first chose to be generous, my son. If you were right, I would be wrong to choose otherwise.” He paused. Then he said, “There are times I wonder whether you may be too generous. But I have no opinion regarding certain matters, and I will not ask any questions regarding those matters.”

Now I did not feel like smiling.

“Sit,” my father told me. Rising, he took up a jar set ready to the side and poured the dried plums and crystallized honey and dried mint into the boiling water set over the brazier. The sweet, mingled scents rose up, comforting in their familiarity. It was not proper for him to take on such tasks when a son of his was present, but he did not even glance at me. I stayed where I was, thinking of different things. When the tisane was ready, he