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

and walked to the horses without looking at anyone. Everything was ready. The horses were saddled and waiting. I mounted my gelding and said curtly, “I will ride in front. He will come with us.” Then I rode out of the clearing, north.

I did not want to stop that day. But eventually we came to a place with good grass and I could not pretend it would not be sensible to pause there, where we could rest the horses and let them graze for a little while. I slid off my gelding’s back, slipped his bit, and sat on the grass nearby, watching him graze and thinking about certain things. The Lau took out some of the hard cracker they eat when traveling, when there is no chance to make or buy bread. Lalani brought me a piece of the cracker, and I took it without speaking to her, only nodding my thanks. In a few days we would run low on travel rations and we would have reason to hunt. I would be better pleased with meat, however much the Lau preferred bread.

Tano inTasiyo ate his cracker quickly, with less of the caution of someone who has recently been near starvation. He was not wearing his shirt. His back was still very red, the welts swollen, many now showing white edges. Probably he would not want to wear anything against his skin for at least two more days.

He had moved stiffly, dismounting, and Rakasa had said something to him. After that he had done better.

There was no water in this place. Everyone brought out waterskins. Tano flinched, startled, when Rakasa nudged his arm and offered him a waterskin. He took it hesitantly and drank some of the water, and looked uncertain whether to give the skin back. Rakasa was not inGara, so the insult would be less, but no inGeiro would want to touch anything after an inTasiyo touched it either. Rakasa gestured that he should keep the waterskin and walked away. Bara gave him his own waterskin, and Rakasa drank from that one instead.

Aras turned up beside me. I had hardly noticed him approaching, but I was not at all surprised he had come. He stood easily, looking away to the north. His manner was relaxed, but his mouth was a little tight. “Do you have anything you wish to say to me?” I asked him.

Now he turned and smiled at me. “No, not especially. The day’s improving, isn’t it?”

It was not. Clouds were coming in from the northeast. By the look of them, they would thicken. Probably it would rain before dawn tomorrow. Already the breeze smelled damp to me. But I said, “Perhaps it is.”

He touched me on the arm, a friendly gesture, and walked away again.

After a little while we went on. I rode some way in front, my bow in my hand, and was pleased to find a chance to shoot one of the small deer when she unwisely broke cover not far before me.

That evening, we camped in a rocky place high up on a ridge above the forest, where the breeze would keep away insects and there was space for us to spread out. There was enough grass to keep the horses content, and they would not want to go down from the ridge into the forest, so they had been turned loose to graze.

While everyone else set up our camp, Tano stayed to one side, very quiet. He looked at me now and then as the meal cooked and the Sun strode into the west, throwing his light back against the thickening clouds to the north and east. Quick glances, toward me and away again. Finally Rakasa lost patience and told him, “If you have something to say to Ryo, stop hesitating and go to him and say it.”

The young man flushed and bowed his head, then came to me and knelt at a small distance, waiting for me to give him permission to approach. Everyone pretended not to watch him or me, which is a pretense at which Lau are not so practiced as my people.

I nodded to Tano to show he could speak to me if he wished, and at once he rose, came closer, and knelt again. I thought I knew would he would say. I thought he would thank me very humbly for my generosity and ask me—if I did not seem angry—whether I might let him go soon. I was only surprised he had not waited until after we had eaten the evening meal. But perhaps he did not expect to be given anything to eat.

He did not say that. Instead, he bowed low and said, “I apologize for my cowardice, warrior. I am very sorry to have made ... made such a display of myself, and I beg your pardon.” He took a breath, and added, not looking up, “I deserve punishment for it.”

I was completely taken aback. I glanced past him, at Rakasa, who shook his head, raising his eyebrows. Finally I asked Tano, “What cowardice?”

He flinched as though he thought I were mocking him. “I could not stand properly.”

This surprised me again. I thought of one reason and another he might have said such a thing; one reason and another he might have come to me in this way. A young man who has just taken one beating will hardly ask for further punishment unless he thinks he has no choice. But perhaps all the reasons I thought of were wrong. Finally, I said, “You did well enough. I saw no evidence of cowardice.” Looking beyond him, I asked, “Rakasa?”

“My opinion is the same,” he said promptly. “I did not see cowardice this morning, and I hardly think I could have missed it. Bara?”

Bara was standing nearby, his arms folded, frowning. He said in a curt way that was not like his usual manner,