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

say. I nodded. He touched my shoulder, gestured to Tano, and they walked away together, up the hill, leaving me alone, waiting for Aras to wake.

 -36-

Aras woke not long after that. Another hand of time, perhaps. Probably not more. As he had done the first time, he woke almost as quickly as he had fallen asleep. He stirred first, breathing more deeply, tension coming into his hands and arms and face. Puzzlement followed, as he opened his eyes and found himself here, at the lakeshore, beneath the sky. Then awareness came to him, and memory. By that time, he had pushed himself up to sitting. I gave him the bowl, filled now with clean water, and he drank a little and splashed his face, collecting himself. He looked at the sky, judging how much time had passed.

Finally he looked at me. He began to speak, and then changed his mind.

“I will explain how it happened,” I told him. “I know this is clearer for you than if you only looked into my mind. That is still true? That is not different now?”

“I understand what you're asking. But yes, that's still true.” He hesitated. Then he said, speaking haltingly, “The act was ... horrifyingly easy. I had no idea that kind of sorcery could become something so ... impulsive. Now that I understand this, I'm sure I can prevent it from happening again. I don’t ... I feel ... I truly don’t believe anything has changed in an important way.”

He meant, in himself, in his nature. I nodded to show I understood this. I hoped it was true. I believed it was true. Probably it was true. Nearly true.

That was not a doubt I wanted him to see in my mind. I set it aside almost before it came into my thoughts. There were many other vivid things to think of, so that was easier than it might have been.

He was going on. “I must admit, I’m even more surprised I woke up this time. After I was so utterly, incalculably stupid as to defend myself by sorcery rather than rhetoric, I thought Koro would almost certainly decide to put me to death.” He rubbed his hands across his face, then paused, looking at me. His eyebrows rose. “Koro did decide to put me to death? Wait: Geras fought Royova? And won? How? Yes, please tell me everything.”

I stood up, offered him a hand to rise, and said, “My king commanded me to bring you to him when you woke. We will walk as I tell you, because I do not think it would be wise to disobey Koro now in anything.”

“No,” he said fervently, taking my hand and letting me lift him to his feet. “No, indeed. The gods have already been kinder than I deserve ... I gather that’s perhaps literally true?”

I told him everything. We did not walk quickly, and the story took less time to tell than seemed possible, so there was no need to hurry the tale. After I had finished, he walked with his head a little bowed, thinking. After a little while, he said, “Ryo, before I speak to him ... tell me if you can: will Koro's position be weakened now because of my act? Or because he permitted himself to be guided to spare my life?”

These were very good questions. I had not thought of this possible problem, but I was not surprised Aras had thought of it. This was the kind of question a king's nephew would learn to consider. I considered it now. Finally I answered, “This may be so, but I think it is not likely. Everyone must agree that the gods set their hands between your life and our king's anger. No one can doubt this. Also, everyone knows a sorcerer's influence fades with time, so even those who would like to set themselves against our king would have difficulty arguing that he has been irretrievably compromised by your act.” I added, “He may order you to go back to the summer lands and forbid you to return to the winter country.”

The corner of his mouth crooked up. “Yes, that does seem quite possible. I would certainly accept that pronouncement.”

“I have no doubt you would be pleased to accept it,” I agreed drily.

We had come into the midst of the inKarano camp by this time. No one came close or even looked directly at Aras, or at me. Everyone knew exactly what had happened, even those who had been too far away to see everything.

When we came to Koro’s tent, I halted, because our king had not commanded me to come there, only Aras. All the sides of the tent were down, but the entrance was pegged open. Plainly Koro was waiting. I suspected that everyone else had gone. The lords of the tribes would not want to come near a sorcerer. Few of them would want that. Perhaps my father was still there, or Soro inKera.

The clouds had mostly passed away, and the Sun, high above, poured his light upon us. His strength here was nothing compared to his strength in his own country, but anyone could feel the change in the air that meant the season was turning.

Aras looked up at the Sun, not blinking and squinting as an Ugaro must before that brilliance. Moving a step away from me, he held out his hands, palm up, his narrow, elegant face still tilted upward toward the sky. He stood that way for a breath and another breath. Then he sighed, and lowered his hands and his gaze.

“Go,” I said softly. “Try to remember to show a humble manner.”

His smile was brief. “I know that’s good advice. That should be easier today than it generally seems to be.” He walked away from me, came to the entry of the tent, and ducked low to