Tarashana Rachel Neumeier (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📖

to explain that they should stay with Lalani. Both Geras and Suyet moved to stand behind Aras instead. Everyone saw that. But there was nothing to do for that now, and my father showed no sign of offense, so people should make allowances for a difference in courtesy and not assume they meant to imply they did not trust their lord to inGara hospitality.

This left Tano inTasiyo, who did not come forward, but knelt where he was, bowed to the ground, and stayed there.

“Who is this?” my father asked me. He was already beginning to frown. No one would behave so humbly unless he knew he would not be received as a friend.

My stomach had been tight already. Now the tightness became worse, but I tried not to show that. I answered, “Lord, this young man is a son of Yaro inTasiyo. He was foolish enough to trespass upon inGara lands. He has been punished for this act, and he has sworn now to obey me as though I were his oldest brother and his warleader. I have taken him into my honor and sworn to conduct myself toward him as I would toward a younger brother. I ask my father to respect my oath.”

A silence had come down upon the whole gathering before I had finished speaking. Everyone stared at me and at my father and at Tano inTasiyo. Older people hushed younger, and so the stillness spread, until even the youngest children fell silent. My father’s expression had not changed, but something had changed. The stillness that had come into his face was wider than anger. For a long time, at least forty breaths, he did not move or speak.

Then he finally said, “My son has sworn to deal with a son of Yaro inTasiyo as a brother?” There was no anger in his voice either. The tonelessness of his voice was deeper than anger.

I said, “I am aware that I may have been more generous than my father would approve. Nevertheless, I ask my father to respect my oath.”

“I think,” said my father, still in that toneless way, “that my son would do better to show more wisdom in his decisions. An oath may sometimes be so ill-advised that it becomes dishonorable to hold to it.”

I knelt at once and bowed. “I am very sorry my father disapproves so strongly of my decision in this matter. Yet even so, I ask him to respect my oath.”

My father began to speak.

“Lord,” Tano said. He spoke clearly, though he did not lift his gaze. “Your son misspoke. I have no father. I have no people. I ask—I beg—that the lord of the inGara permits me to come among his people as the least worthy of all inGara warriors.”

I had not expected that at all. Perhaps I should have: certainly this was something that would make my father see him differently; but if I had considered the problem until the stars fell from the sky, I would not have thought of it. Yet as soon as the words were set into the air, I saw I should have expected nothing else. I did not know what my father would say. This was the humblest manner of petition, but in any petition of this kind, the lord of a tribe may respond as he chooses.

My father still showed nothing in his expression, but after a long moment, he said Tano, “My son seldom misspeaks so severely.”

“His words were true once,” Tano answered. “But now I have no father and no people. I have no hope unless the lord of the inGara decides to grant my request.”

“I think perhaps a young man need not be entirely without hope if my son has decided so irrevocably that he should deal with him as with a younger brother.” My father’s tone was sardonic now rather than flat. He had been as surprised by that request as I had been—more surprised. Now he was beginning to think of this problem in a different way. I straightened, the tightness of my stomach easing.

“I misspoke,” Tano said at once. “I know Ryo inGara will deal with me far more leniently than I deserve, so I know I do not need to be afraid of anything. Even the anger of the lord of the inGara does not frighten me.” He was pale, so anyone could see he was afraid despite his words, but he spoke steadily.

There was a silence. “Come here,” my father ordered him at last. “I wish to see what manner of young man asks for the favor of the inGara.”

Tano rose, walked forward, and knelt again, this time directly before my father. He did not bow, but looked up, as he had been ordered to do.

“You have the look of your father.”

“That may be; I would not know,” Tano replied. “If I had a father once, I have forgotten him. I remember nothing of any people before I came into inGara lands.”

Another pause. Finally my father said, “What would you bring to the inGara people if I grant your request?”

“Nothing of any value, lord. I would truly be the least worthy of your warriors. But if you grant my request, I would be loyal. And if you chose to be so generous, that might prevent trouble between a respected inGara man and his son.”

My father raised his eyebrows. He said drily, “If you were inGara, I might call that insolence.”

“Lord,” Tano answered, bowing low. “Accept me as the least of your people and I will be glad to endure whatever punishment you consider just, for insolence or any fault.”

My father looked at him for some time longer. Tano did not move. Finally my father turned to me. “You did not punish this young man according to the terms of the ban,” he observed. “Even though he was inTasiyo at that time,