Tarashana Rachel Neumeier (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📖

come to him first. This man might have owned perhaps twenty and ten winters. That man, Soro turned away, saying, “A warrior who has come to his full strength should be old enough to know he follows unworthy men. You should have gone to a different lord long before this.”

The man bowed silently, rose, and walked away. He did not go back among the inTasiyo. He picked up a bow and walked away, not toward the lake where all the wagons and tents were set, but into the steppe. Three more men picked up bows; one rolled up a blanket with a craftman’s tools laid out on it. They walked away after the first man. Two women went with them, quickly snatching up bowls and blankets and hurrying to follow. The steppe in winter is difficult land for people afoot, especially when many people had been hunting small game near this place for many days. But they would probably survive, if they were careful and did not meet serious mischance.

Another man went, not to Soro inKera, but to Royova inVotaro. “Warleader,” he said, kneeling, and laid his sword at Royova’s feet. “I can fight,” he said, bowing his head. “Try my skill, warleader. I will be loyal.”

The inVotaro is a tribe all of warriors. Men are not born into the inVotaro, for if they marry, which is seldom, their wives take the inKarano name. But the inVotaro do not lack for men. They take those who are too quarrelsome for an ordinary tribe, or who cause trouble in other ways. Royova inVotaro would know very well how to deal with a man who might have bad judgment, or might have lacked the courage to defy a bad lord, or who might have disgraced himself in some other way. He said to the man, “You are inVotaro now. If you live another year, you may be worth something. Do not try my patience for that year.”

The man picked up his sword, rose to his feet, and moved to stand among the inVotaro. Seeing that, three other men, younger, also moved to offer their swords to Royova

When quiet came again, perhaps one out of four of all the inTasiyo were gone. They had become people of other tribes, or they had walked away. The lord of the inTasiyo, Duryo, was sallow with shock and dismay. Yaro inTasiyo was not like that. His expression was calm, but his eyes were flat with hatred. He was looking at my father. All this time, as so many of his people deserted the inTasiyo, Yaro had not looked away from him once.

My father returned that look as steadily. He knew inTasiyo had been destroyed. They both knew it. Everyone knew it.

Koro raised his hands to reclaim everyone’s attention. Then he said, “A charge has been set against the inGara. I will consider that charge now. Sinowa inGara, have you anything to say regarding this matter?”

My father faced him. He said, “I think everyone knows what happened here. The actions of inGara warriors are my responsibility. I will accept whatever judgment you see fit, o king.”

Koro nodded. He said, “This young inGara warrior acted disgracefully. As the inTasiyo warleader already punished his act, I declare the matter settled. I dismiss the broader charge.”

My father inclined his head. Yaro began a furious protest, but Koro held up his hands for silence. He said in the same level tone, “If you wish to bring a formal charge against another tribe, do that before you deal out punishment yourself. I dismiss the charge. The ban holds. For the remaining days of the Convocation, or for as long as inTasiyo exists, I forbid any contact whatsoever between inTasiyo and inGara. Should inTasiyo have any allies, I forbid the people of those tribes to quarrel with inGara or with the allies of inGara.” Our king did not appear to notice the burning look Yaro inTasiyo bent on him. Koro merely looked around, marking where everyone stood. Then he turned his back, dismissing the entire incident. He said loudly, “Let all those who went into the land of the shades come into the camp of the inKarano and tell me of all these important events. I wish to hear how everything happened.” Then he walked away, toward his own camp.

I threw a swift look toward Tano, but he looked well enough. Tired, from the drawn look of his face. Contained. He stood firmly, his shoulders straight, one arm around his younger brother. He was looking at me, but when I met his eyes, he dropped his gaze at once.

So. Still, I thought he had not done too badly, considering what—I was absolutely certain—he had meant to do.

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We did not go back into the inGara camp, but farther south, to the place where the inKarano had camped, close to the edge of the lake. It was not a long way to walk, but certainly more than long enough for everyone to think about what had happened. Tano walked behind my father, his gaze lowered. His brother clung to his hand, walking very close to him. It is not really proper for a boy of eight or ten winters to hold tight to his brother; a boy that age should straighten his shoulders and pretend he is not afraid. But Tano did not push him away or correct him, and everyone pretended not to notice.

Suyet came to walk beside me. He said, “I think I got most of that, Ryo. Pretty brutal, not that I’m saying they didn’t deserve it. What’s going to happen to them now, the ones that are left?”

“I can pretty well guess one thing that might happen,” Geras put in. “You better watch your back, Ryo—and your father better watch his. You put an enemy up against a wall like that and likely enough you’ve got yourself a problem. Even after you