Tarashana Rachel Neumeier (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📖

The two inGeiro looked at one another. Rakasa shrugged, and Bara said, “We rode ten days, twelve, before we came far enough to see that. We pressed our ponies' harder when we returned. That was five days' ride.”

“Five and half another,” Rakasa agreed. “Even when the black sky was no longer visible, no one wanted to linger.”

“Yes. But at some time before you came back to the mountains and entered the pass, this Tarashana woman saw you and followed.”

“An avila woman would never have been able to keep our pace,” Rakasa corrected him. “I think she knew we had entered her country, and hid herself near the pass to follow when we returned to our own. She tried not to be seen or heard, but Garoyo knew someone followed us.”

“Did you know?” I asked him, mocking because from the way he said that, I knew he had not.

Rakasa made a disgusted gesture. “I thought the feeling that something followed us came to me because the emptiness of the starlit country was so uncomfortable. I thought it was a feeling born of shadows and mist. Your brother was wiser. He said some of us should go on, talking and maybe quarrelling in loud voices. Some of the others did that, but Garoyo and Bara and I and three of the other warriors waited quietly for whatever was following. This woman came.” He paused again, opening his hands, searching for words. He and Bara exchanged a glance, so that I understood they did not know how to describe this woman. I wondered what Aras saw in their thoughts.

Rakasa said finally, “She was so small, and so very frightened.”

Bara nodded, picking up the story. “She is very strange, Ryo. Lovely, but strange. She has made designs on her face and on one of her hands, as the avila do, but neither your mother nor Rakasa’s mother nor the oldest singers of either of our peoples could say what those designs might mean. No one recognized those patterns.”

Rakasa said, “Never mind the patterns, Bara!” He went on. “The tales we tell of the avila are true, Ryo: she shines with her own light when the light is dim, and her eyes are as changeable as the sky.”

I nodded. “Yes, I have heard so.”

“Of course you have; everyone has heard this is so, but it is different when you see it yourself. When she is afraid, her eyes become very pale, the color of the winter sky at dawn. The color is darker when she is less afraid, but I do not know what color her eyes might be if she were happy.”

Bara picked up the tale again. “We did not need to think of tales of the avila to understand that this woman was afraid of us, but much more afraid of something else, something in the starlit lands. That was perfectly clear. We brought her into the winter lands, taking it in turns to carry her when the way became too difficult. We thought she might speak to the women even if warriors frightened her too much. But she did not say anything, even in the avila tongue. She would not speak to your mother or to Rakasa’s mother or to anyone. We decided maybe she cannot speak.”

Rakasa touched the letter I still held. “So your mother wrote that letter.” He turned back to Aras. “Will you come? This avila woman is too frightened. The foremost singers of the inGeiro and the inGara, and the warleaders and the lords of the tribes, agree it would be good to know what frightened her and what happened to her people.”

“I certainly agree this is a curious story.” Aras was silent for some time, running one hand slowly along the gold spiraling around his scepter. Finally he said, “I could write to my king and ask what he would prefer me to do. It would take several weeks or a month for that letter to reach him and as long again to receive a response. If I’m going to go, I’d rather not wait. The summer’s already well advanced in the winter country as it is.”

I had not thought of that, though I should have. “Even if we leave at once, the warm season will be ending by the time we come to the mountains.”

“Yes, exactly, so if I’m going at all, I’d far rather leave immediately; we’d have reasonable weather for the entire journey north, at least. The journey back ...” he made a face. “It’s possible I’d have to ask your people for shelter through the whole of the long cold and let the return journey wait until spring.”

“We would make you comfortable. We could put a shelter inside another shelter, as we do sometimes when someone is very ill and suffers from the cold. But,” I had to admit, “you would probably be pent very close for a long time.”

“Yes, it’s something to think about. I have to admit, Soretes would have every reason to be irate with me if I disappeared into the winter lands for most of a year without asking leave to go. On the other hand, I’m not much good to him now anyway, not until he decides it’s possible to recall me from the borderlands. There are any number of serious problems I should be dealing with farther south, but here I am. Stepping out of reach for some time might possibly prompt one or two troublesome factions to reassess the use he’s making of me. He might well find that useful.”

I said, “Perhaps, as this is so complicated, you might do best to make your own decision in the matter.” I thought, with some force, that there were other important decisions he should make for himself as well.

He pretended not to see that thought in my mind, saying merely, “That could be a defensible position. Though if