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

Lutra inGeiro was not present, though I knew I was not mistaken about her tent. Surprisingly few people were present. Perhaps they had gathered here last night, and meant to gather again later, but for now the large space was not at all crowded. However, Darra inKarano sat on a flat cushion, across from Lalani, with—to my surprise—a sestaket board between them. Lalani was teaching Darra to play sestaket. Lalani had hidden her deadly skill with the game behind a friendly smile. Suyet was telling Darra what moves she might make, but although he was not bad at sestaket, Lalani would certainly take all of Darra’s pegs if Darra trusted Suyet’s advice. Geras, reclining on one elbow, was watching them, smiling indulgently. He had probably made the board and the pegs.

Beside Geras, watching with interest as Suyet explained how to count out the possible outcomes in order to decide which moves might be best, sat Elaro inPorakario, with Raga close beside him. I had hoped my younger brother might be here, but I had not guessed the poet from the east might have come as well. But Darra was here, so of course that was not surprising. I thought I had caught my first reaction quickly enough that no one saw me frown.

I did not see Aras anywhere.

“Ryo!” Raga called, jumping up. “Will you join us? This is a game that I think few Ugaro would like, but it is interesting to learn.”

“Only poets and women count fast enough and accurately enough to play sestaket,” I told him, smiling. “I know the game, but I do not play it.” I added to Darra, “No one who plays Lalani should wager anything important.”

“We are playing for honey cakes,” Lalani told me, smiling. “I like honey cakes the way your people make them, Ryo, but I made enough of them myself last night that I think I can promise I will not win them all.”

I greeted my mother respectfully and nodded to Siwa inKera. Then I stole a honey cake from the basket beside Lalani and sat down beside Darra to eat it. Glancing over the board, I warned Darra, “You have let her take too many of the short pegs. You are thinking of the tall ones as more important, but from what I have seen, I think this is rarely so.”

Darra surveyed the board with a dissatisfied air. “I think you could be right, Ryo. Fortunately, I also made many honey cakes last night. We decided we would all use the last of our honey because of the feast tonight.”

A feast. This was a good idea. I glanced at my mother, certain she had suggested this. She was speaking to Siwa inKera and watching the sestaket game, pretending not to notice the game with the knives, but she smiled at me.

Darra had sounded far less displeased that I might have expected, but then, sestaket was not a game that mattered to her. I stole another honey cake—from Darra’s basket this time—and reclined on the rugs to eat it. “You made the board and the pegs,” I said to Geras. “But where did you get the wood?”

He nodded toward my mother. “A chest of drawers your mother decided she didn’t like, Ryo. Nice inlay, I expect it belonged to some lord first, but the drawers were sticking. The damp cold here’s got to be tough on wood. We got to talking about games, see, and Elaro there, he said sestaket sounded a bit like a game they play in the east, except our version’s got more counting and fewer blood-curdling threats, I guess, so I said I’d make a set if they wanted to try. I did warn ’em Lalani’s going to win all their cakes, and everything else they want to wager too. Even with Suyet to help your lot with the counting.”

I was smiling. Even Elaro’s presence could not irritate me this morning. It helped that the poet was sitting with my younger brother, not beside Darra. “Where is Aras?” I asked. Wherever he had gone, I was surprised Geras had not gone with him.

But Geras only nodded to the other side of the extended tent. “Asleep. Tough night, I guess.” He lowered his voice. “Lots of people arguing all evening, and I figure plenty of ’em went on thinking lots of loud thoughts all night. Sometimes sorcery’s got to be like people pelting you with rocks. Big rocks, last night, I guess. By dawn everybody had mostly quieted down, at least around here. Just at sunrise, your mother sang a song that seemed, I swear, to work on him just like a lullaby, and off he went.”

“The song to the Dawn Sisters,” I said. “Yes. I taught him that song.” Now I saw the shape Aras made, buried amid the furs on that side of the tent. I could very easily imagine the thoughts many people had been thinking last night. I thought Geras was right: many of those thoughts had probably struck him harder than physical blows. I said, “Perhaps everyone will soon become accustomed, as they see my mother does not fear him.”

Geras gave me a shrewd look. “Yep, pretty sure that’s why he’s here. Pretty sure that’s why she arranged a feast for tonight, too.”

“This could be so,” I agreed. She and Darra had probably arranged this between them—and Siwa—and Lutra—and no doubt the women of various other tribes. But I added, “There are always many feasts during the Convocation. Prosperous tribes wish to demonstrate their generosity, and less prosperous tribes that may be short of stored foods need that generosity. This is a time when the people of tribes that have not been led as wisely may ask to come into a more prosperous tribe.”

Tano missed the cowhide target. Worse, the knife he threw did not strike