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

She tipped her head to blow in his palm and nudged him, hoping for a little piece of bread or dried fruit. “I will have something for you soon,” he told her. He accepted a leg up to the high saddle and nudged her to the side, to go around the camp toward the pasture. Other boys were taking the other horses in the same way.

By that time, my father had come the last of the distance. I went to him, knelt at his feet, bowed, and finally straightened to look him in the face.

“My son,” he said formally. “Welcome.” Then he said, much less formally, “Ryo,” and touched my cheek lightly. He turned his hand palm up, giving me permission to stand, and I rose and stepped out of the way.

Aras came forward and knelt as I had done. His mouth was a little tight, probably because there were so many people here and everyone was thinking very many things very emphatically. But when he straightened from his bow and met my father’s steady gaze, he was smiling.

“My guest,” said my father. “Lord of Gaur, scepter-holder of the summer king. I suppose you are still a sorcerer.” He spoke clearly, making certain everyone nearby could hear him.

“Lord,” answered Aras in the same way. “Yes, that is so.”

“But you will not use any forbidden acts against any person of inGara.”

“No, lord. I have sworn the strongest possible oaths before the gods that I will never do such a thing. I swear that again now. I will not harm anyone of inGara by means of sorcery. I will not set any false memory into anyone’s mind unless I have permission to do it. I will not bring anyone under my will, nor in any way cause someone to act or refrain from acting by means of sorcery. If I break this oath, may the Sun turn his face from me and destroy me.”

My father waited a long moment to let that oath stand in the quiet. Though there were so many people here, everyone was silent, showing respect for that vow and confirming that they had heard it spoken.

Finally my father said, “Aras Eren Samaura, you are my guest, and welcome as a friend of the inGara people. You have had a long journey to come here, answering my request in the most generous way. Accept inGara hospitality for as long as you wish to remain.” He signed permission for Aras to rise and looked expectantly past him at the others.

“My people,” Aras said, and named them as they came forward. The soldiers knelt. Of Lalani, Aras only said, “It seemed possible a woman’s opinion would be desired in this matter.” She lowered her eyes modestly.

“That could be so,” agreed my father. “I am certain my wife will be pleased to greet this young woman.” He glanced at my mother, now standing to one side among the other women. I could not see my younger sister anywhere. I was sorry for that, but it did not surprise me because I knew she would be with the inGeiro. Probably she was not too far, only on the other side of the lake, and would come soon—or I might go there to greet her.

But I saw my eldest brother’s wife, Nisig. She held a new baby, in a sling over her shoulder, as women carry very new babies. I had not even heard Nisig carried another child. She had three daughters already; perhaps this was a son. If that were so, Garoyo would surely be pleased. He cherished his daughters, but a great warrior should have sons.

My older sister was also here. I had not seen her for a long time; her husband, Suroka, was a friend of my brother Tokavo. Most often they traveled together, with another of inGara’s herds. But there she stood, looking at me, her head a little on one side as she did when she thought perhaps a young man had been up to some foolishness, but was ready to be amused by it. She was much older than I, thirty winters and four; her youngest son had two winters now, but her oldest daughter had as many winters as my younger sister, my mother’s daughter, and had already married.

I had not been here to see Nisig’s last baby born, nor this new one. I had not seen Tasig’s son begin to toddle, nor my niece marry, nor my younger sister become a woman. Seeing my mother and my sister and my brother’s wife now made me feel how long I had been absent from their lives.

“I offer Lalani Tasananet the hospitality of my tent, or she may raise up her own tent beside mine,” my mother said warmly. “She is my guest, and welcome among the inGara. Her kinsmen may take places in her tent or elsewhere, as they see fit.”

“I am happy to find the singer of the inGara so generous to a woman of a different people,” Lalani answered in her excellent taksu. “I have heard many stories of Ugaro women from the singer’s older son, but I have never heard any story as an Ugaro woman would tell it.”

My mother laughed and held out her hand. “There are many stories I will tell you,” she promised.

Lalani went to her, glancing at me to be sure she should. My mother touched the back of her hand when she tentatively offered it, then drew Lalani to stand beside her. They were so very different in every way, for a moment I worried Lalani might feel too far out of place, but she smiled down at my mother and then flashed a swift, delighted grin at me and I knew she was not at all discommoded. I should have known she would not be; she was always fearless. I signaled to Geras that they could rise. I had forgotten