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

is trouble now for him, that is why! This is not right, what you do! Judge your own people, but let Lord Gaur go to his own king.”

Koro inclined his head. He said, “You speak bravely. I take no offense at your words. If you consider it right to step in front of the knife, that is your decision. Should it happen in that way, I will pray the gods receive you kindly.” He paused, considering Aras, who lay unconscious and unmoving, his breaths coming slow and even, one after another, as they would until a knife stopped them.

Jumping to my feet, I said, speaking forcefully, but also as respectfully as I could. “O king, Aras committed a shameful act, but he stopped almost at once. He apologized, and he set himself into your hands. He suggested the medicine himself. This was not the act of a sorcerer consumed by madness.” I took a breath. Then I declared, “Geras is right in everything, and if you say otherwise, you are wrong. But he should not step in front of the knife. I will—”

Geras grabbed my arm, shaking me once, hard. “Keep your tongue between your teeth, you young fool!” he said furiously to me in darau. He turned back to our king and went on at once in taksu, standing straight and speaking to our king in the stiff way of a Lau soldier in that kind of moment. “I have more right than Ryo. I am older, and I am Lord Gaur’s man a long time, and I am Lau. I will fight Royova inVotaro. Let the gods show their opinion.”

“Bravely said,” said Hokino. “I agree with those words.”

“Yes,” said Garoyo. “I agree as well.”

“I agree as well,” said my father.

Royova said drily, “I certainly agree, o king. Plainly this Lau cannot defeat me unless the gods favor him.”

Koro looked at them all. Then he studied Geras for a long moment. He did not glance at me. Finally, raising his hands once more, he said, “I say that if this Lau soldier defeats Royova inVotaro, this will show that the gods agree that Aras Eren Samaura should go to his own king for judgment. If that happens, I renounce all right to judge this man for any act he has thus far committed. This is my decision.” Lowering his hands, he said to Geras, “Royova is correct: without the favor of the gods, you cannot win. If you lose, I will order your lord’s death. Should that occur, you may take his head to his king, if you live, so that you can explain to him how all this happened.” He added to Royova, “If you are able to refrain from killing this man, that would please me.”

Royova inclined his head. “In any fight, accidents may happen. But I have no wish to kill this Lau, whom I consider a brave and honorable man.” Drawing his sword from the sheath at his back, he walked down the lakeshore a little way, to a place that was level and big enough. There, he turned and waited, unmoved and unmovable, for Geras to face him.

“Geras—” I began, but then I did not know what to say.

Geras touched the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it yet. He said to me in darau, “If it comes to that, look after Suyet and Lalani. Get them home, right? And try to get Suyet to believe nothing was his fault. That boy takes things way too hard.”

“Yes,” I said. “But, Geras—”

“So do you, come to that,” Geras told me, smiling a little. “Could be a lot worse, Ryo. We could’ve lost, you know, and all drowned in the dark. Or that wretched excuse for a warleader could’ve gutted you like a fish right here and got away with it. That didn’t happen, at least. This isn’t so bad. A man’s got to die sometime. Dying twice isn’t exactly what I’d’ve picked, but I’d rather face the toughest Ugaro warrior in the winder lands than the invisible spirit of a tiger, I’ll say that. Don’t let Suyet fight anybody, Ryo, and don’t you fight anybody either, not for me and not for Aras. He wouldn’t want that, and I sure don’t.”

I could not stop him. I saw that clearly. I did not even know whether it would be right to stop him. Reaching out, I gripped his wrists, as Lau soldiers sometimes do in greeting or farewell. Then I let him go. “May the gods be kind,” I said.

“We can all pray for that,” he agreed. Then he took off his coat and tossed it aside, drew his sword, and walked down the short distance to face Royova.

For a long moment they stood like that, facing each other. Royova was so big a man that he was only a little shorter than Geras. His reach would be a little less, but probably he weighed almost twice as much. He had fought with this kind of long sword all his life. He had killed many strong warriors in this way, never by holding his place in a formation, with companions holding their places beside him so that he could not go forward or back or in any direction, but must stand in that place and hold the line.

Geras could not possibly defeat him.

The Moon was not in the sky. The Sun stood high, throwing down spears and shafts of brilliant light past the clouds. That kind of light confuses the eye, dazzling one moment and dim the next. The pebbles of the lakeshore would roll underfoot, not good to fight upon, but equally bad for each man. The air was cold, but not too cold. So far as I could tell, Geras was not shivering. Probably he was too tightly focused to feel the cold. His length of limb was even more apparent now that