He crossed a gray sandy beach to an outcropping of darker stone. There he moved unerringly to a place where the rounded stones were interspersed with tide pools. The thin sun of autumn had not much warmed the water, but cold as it was, I am sure it was still much warmer than the waves that crashed and rolled against the outer beach.
He sat down heavily on a throne of stone and grunted as he tugged off his new boots and peeled down the woolen socks. My feet had never seemed so far away from my body as they did when he bent over his huge belly to reach them. He had to hold his breath, for the action pinched his lungs. He tossed both boots and socks casually to one side and then sat up with a groan. He took a long breath and then slowly lowered his feet into the water.
His foot basin was a tidal pool, fringed with dark seaweed and mysterious with foreign life. As his feet entered, the flowers on the bottom of the pool abruptly closed and retreated to their roots. I had never seen such a thing happen and was startled, but Soldier’s Boy only laughed with pleasure and lowered his feet into the icy water. The cold was a shock and he gasped and lifted his feet, but then dipped them in again and then out. After several such treatments, the water did not seem so cold, and he lowered his feet to soak them. He sat staring out over the moving water. Then he spoke aloud. “We could be very powerful.”
I became small and still, a rabbit crouching in the underbrush, pretending to be invisible.
“If you joined with me willingly now, I do not think there is anyone who could stand against us. Know that if you do not willingly join me, eventually you will still become a part of me. Bit by bit, I expect you shall erode and dissolve into my awareness. What will you be a year from now, or five, Nevare? A discontented memory in the back of my mind? A small touch of bitterness when I look at my children? A pool of loneliness when something reminds me of your sister or your friends? What will you have gained? Nothing. So come. Be a part of me now.”
“No.” I thought the word at him fiercely.
“As you will,” he replied without rancor. He turned his head and looked back toward the market stalls. He widened his nostrils and took a deep appreciative breath of the salty air and of the mouthwatering food smells that rode on it. His mouth ran with anticipation and he gave himself over to thinking of roast pork so tender it would fall from the skewer, of crisply browned fowl cooked with sea salt and stuffed with onion bulbs, of apple-bread thick with nuts and dripping melted butter. He sighed happily, enjoying the anticipation, relishing even his hunger. Soon he would eat. He would eat with great pleasure, savoring every bite, knowing as he enjoyed the taste and the aroma that it was contributing to his power, to his well-being, to his reserves of strength. He contemplated the coming meal with a simple and joyous satisfaction that I don’t think I’d ever taken in any experience. I knew a moment of greenest envy, and then my small emotion was washed away in his leap of pleasure.
His wait was over. Down the beach, leaping impatiently ahead and then doubling back, came Likari. He capered like a dog enjoying a long-promised walk. His trading must have gone well. He wore a peculiar cap, red and white striped, with a long tail. At the end of it was a set of bells that jingled as he pranced. Behind him came two young men. Between them they bore a long plank as if it were a stretcher for an injured man. Upon it were bowls and cups and covered plates. At the sight, Soldier’s Boy swallowed and then could not help but smile. Behind the food bearers, walking more decorously than Likari, came Olikea. She had sold off her Gernian dresses, and wore now a long loose robe of bright scarlet, gathered with a sturdy leather belt. The belt was studded with silver, and at every stride, black boots trimmed with silver flashed into view. Behind her came three servants bearing her day’s purchases. Soldier’s Boy watched with pleasure as the parade drew nearer.
He was not alone in his anticipation. Great gray gulls, on seeing the approaching food, circled overhead, tipping their wings to hover over it. Their raucous cries filled the air overhead. One, bolder than the rest, swooped in to try to steal from the feast bowls, but Olikea gave a shout and sent him fleeing.
Likari spotted him and ran ahead, full of smiles. He reached Soldier’s Boy, dropped down to the ground beside him, and breathlessly said, “We bring you a feast, Great One!”
The boy had not overstated it. By the time the men carrying the stretcher of food reached them, Likari had set up stones to support it. The men carefully lowered their burden and then stood back from it. Olikea had arrived by then. She paid them off and dismissed them with a flourish, telling them to return later to retrieve their master’s dishes and cutlery. The other serving men set down their burdens. Olikea dismissed them as well, telling them to come back later to assist us in carrying our purchases back to our camp and to bring a beast to pack the kegs of oil. Only one she kept, telling him to keep the gulls from troubling us as we ate. As the rest trudged off down the beach, Olikea sat down gracefully beside our makeshift table. Soldier’s Boy had eyes only for the steaming vessels of food and the tall glass flask of deep red wine, but my mind was chasing itself in circles. I had always thought that beyond the mountains, our king would find only primitive tribes to trade with. But here we were sitting down to a rustic picnic served on glass and ceramic dishes brought to us by servants of some master who operated a food booth. I felt anger at myself that I had so misread the Specks and their trading partners. The culture and civilization on this side of the mountains might be vastly different from Gernia, but I was coming to see that it was no less sophisticated and organized. I’d been blinded, I decided, by my attitudes about technology. These people who walked naked in the forest and lived so simply by summer enjoyed all the trappings of a different sort of civilization in winter. Obviously these people had followed a different path, but my assumptions that they were lesser, that they were simple primitive folk in desperate need of Gernian civilizing, reflected only my own ignorance.
My musings did not distract Soldier’s Boy from his meal. Rather, it was the other way. As the covers were lifted from the dishes and the aromas wafted up, his anticipation welled up and drowned me. My thoughts were tossed and turned in his sensory enjoyment of the meal, and at last I surrendered all thought and simply let myself focus on the experience.
It had been so long since I had eaten without guilt. Before the magic had infected me, at the Academy, food had simply been sustenance. Most of it had been simple and honestly prepared, good in its own way, but certainly no one had taken care to make it enjoyable. At its worst, it had been bland and edible. At its best, it had been tasty. Before that, at my home and at my uncle’s home, there had been well-prepared meals, and I recalled hazily that I had enjoyed them, and had even looked forward to some favorite dishes.
But never had I sat down to a sumptuously prepared meal, a meal tailored especially for me, and immersed all my senses in it as Soldier’s Boy did now. I did not know the names of the dishes, and many of the ingredients I could not identify. That did not matter. To begin, there was a flesh dish, bite-sized chunks of meat cooked in a ruddy sauce. This was ladled up and served over a steamed black grain. The grain was chewy and added a nutty flavor to the dish. It was presented to Soldier’s Boy with golden sliced fruit swimming in its own juices and sprinkled generously with little pink berries that I did not know. The fruit was sweet, the berries sour, and the syrup that surrounded them was touched with mint. A large glass goblet of what he thought of as forest wine was poured to accompany it.
And that was only the first course.
Some dishes I knew. The fragrant freshly baked barley bread, the thick pea soup, a whole roasted fowl stuffed with the onions that he had scented earlier, a rich yet simple cake baked from sugar, eggs, and a golden flour, sliced apples baked with spices and sweetened with wild honey, and little speckled hard-boiled quails’ eggs. Likari shelled these for him, dipping each one in a sprinkling of spices before passing them to me. They were heaven, each a small package of piquant flavor.
Soldier’s Boy groaned with delight, loosened the white belt, and waited while the final dish was prepared for him. He had eaten without thought, without concern for what that much food might do to him or what others might think of his appetite or his greed. Yet it did not feel like gluttony to me. He had eaten as a child eats, with pleasure in the textures and the tastes of the food.
I envied him so much I hated him.
By the time they were finishing their meal, the sun was sliding down behind the mountains. The water had crept closer to the shore and was lapping at the rocks. The lower tide pools were already covered, and it seemed that with every breaking wave, the ocean crept closer to us. I’d read of tides, but never really seen one turn before. The oncoming water, venturing so steadily closer, filled me with a strange uneasiness. How far would it come? Soldier’s Boy did not share my worry. Olikea was ignoring the advancing water, scanning the beach behind us. Likari, sated long before Soldier’s Boy was, had left the table and was frolicking at the water’s edge. As each wave came toward him, he would race along its white foam edge, splashing in it.
Soldier’s Boy surveyed the emptied plates and flasks with satisfaction. Then he gave a great yawn. “It is nearly time to go,” he told her. “The tide is coming in.”
“Let us linger just a little—Oh! Here they come!” The sudden smile of anticipation that lit her face puzzled me. Soldier’s Boy’s gaze followed hers. Someone, or several someones, were approaching us carrying lanterns. The lights bobbed and swayed as they came nearer. I thought it would be the servants come to reclaim their master’s serving plates and vessels. Olikea reached up and smoothed her hair and sat up a bit straighter. I recognized the grooming of a woman who expects important visitors. I wondered if Soldier’s Boy did.
As the lanterns drew closer, I could see that they were carried on poles. Two boys held them aloft, and walked to either side of a plump young woman. A boy in his early teens walked behind her, carrying a wooden box. We watched them come, and as they drew nearer, Olikea frowned. “She’s little more than a child,” she said, displeased. As they got closer, she added quietly, “This is not what I expected. Let me be the one to speak to her.”
Soldier’s Boy made no response to that. Neither of them stood, but Likari came hurrying back to us to gaze curiously at the approaching procession. I think that Soldier’s Boy shared with me the deep comfort of a very full belly. He was thinking more of a good sleep than he was of anything else. He continued to watch the emissaries as they approached but did not stand or call out a welcome. Olikea, too, waited in silence.
“Who are they?” Likari demanded.
“Hush. They come from Kinrove, unless I am mistaken. Likari, say nothing to them. Only I am to speak.” Her wine cup still held a few swallows of wine. She lifted it in one hand and leaned across the “table” to ask me, “Are you full, Great One? Are you well fed?”
“I am that.”
“Then I think we are finished with our trading here. Tomorrow we will journey home to my lodge. All that will make you comfortable awaits you there.” She spoke these words in a clear and carrying voice that was certain to reach the ears of the approaching people. She glanced at them and then put her gaze back on me as if they were of no concern to her at all.
They stopped a short distance away. The girl cleared her throat and then called out, “Olikea. Feeder of the Jhernian Great One! We come as messengers and gift bringers, but we do not wish to interrupt a meal. May we approach?”
Olikea took a small sip from her wine cup and appeared to consider the request seriously. Then she replied, “My Great One says that he is sated. I suppose you may approach.”
The lantern bearers advanced, and when they were close to our impromptu table, they halted and wedged their poles into the rock. The light from the lanterns swayed and leapt over us. Wickerwork enclosed the lanterns and cast strange shadows over us. The plump girl approached. She was dressed all in white, and her robe and shoes were immaculate. Her smooth black hair was drawn back from her face and held in place with several dozen ivory pins. She was a Speck, but the uneven lighting from the swaying lamps made it hard to see her markings. She lifted her hands and splayed them on her breast, revealing over a dozen sparkling-stoned rings on her fingers. She nodded her head in a formal greeting to us, fluttered her hands in the Speck gesture of subservience, and then spoke. “Word has reached Kinrove that there is a new Great One at the Trading Place, a man never before seen, and from a people long judged to be our enemy. This is a surprise to all of us. This has filled the Greatest of Great Ones with a desire to meet him. And so I am sent to offer the new Great One an invitation to visit the camp of Kinrove and his feeders tonight, to accept his hospitality and to exchange what news there may be. His feeder is invited also, of course. The feeders of Kinrove send to her these gifts that she may be pleased with them and persuade her Great One to come with us tonight.”
The girl made a gesture and the young man came forward. As he came into the light, I saw that he was round-faced and heavy-bellied. His legs and arms looked soft and rounded rather than muscled like a man’s. He approached Olikea, and then sank slowly down before her. Olikea said nothing. The boy made an elaborate show of opening the chest. Once it was open, the woman approached. She lifted out a lacy veil edged with tiny chiming bells. She displayed it to Olikea, shook it to make the bells ring, and then folded it and offered it to her. Olikea accepted it gravely but still said nothing.
Again the girl reached into the chest. She brought out simple wrist bangles. At first glance I thought they were metal, but they clacked softly against one another as the girl displayed them. They were wood, then, but made from a wood so black that it resembled stone. There were six of them, and again the girl offered them to Olikea. Olikea held out her arms and sat without comment as the woman slid three bracelets onto each of her wrists.
The final treasure to be displayed was wrapped in a very finely woven mesh of reeds. The girl lifted it from the box, drew a small bronze knife from a sheath at her hip, and cut the mesh away. A tantalizing aroma rose from it. Soldier’s Boy could smell almonds, ginger, honey, and rum. Or something very like rum. The girl offered the cake to Olikea, saying, “These are baked once a year and mellowed with liquor for a year. They are special, cooked only for Kinrove’s enjoyment. He sends one to the new Great One and his feeder as a welcome gift.”
The cake that Olikea received was the size of a dinner plate and flat like a griddle cake. With her eyes on the girl, Olikea broke the dark brown confection into two pieces. She presented one to me, and then sat back in her place. She took a bite of the dark rich cake, chewed and swallowed it slowly, and then took another, and finally a third. After she had swallowed her third bite, she looked at me and said quietly, “I judge it safe to eat and flavorful, Great One. Perhaps it will bring you some small enjoyment.”
No change of expression passed over his face. He lifted the aromatic cake and took a bite. As he chewed, a symphony of flavors spread out on his tongue and filled his nostrils. In my whole life, I had never tasted anything as delicious as that cake. Sweet mingled with spice and tamed the heady taste of the liqueur that had mellowed it. The almonds had been ground to powder to produce such a fine texture. It literally seemed to melt away on my tongue. After I swallowed, the taste of it lingered, not just on my tongue but as a perfume in my nostrils. It was delectable.
Olikea was waiting. After she saw Soldier’s Boy swallow, she asked with feigned anxiety, “Was it acceptable, Great One? I hope it did not offend you.”
He did not respond immediately. When he spoke, it seemed he had considered his words well. “I am sure Kinrove enjoys such things and expected that I would like them as well. It was a kind gesture of him.”
This faint praise seemed to rattle the girl. She had been watching their expressions closely. I think she had expected them to praise the cake rapturously and was puzzled that they had not. So was I. It seemed an ungracious way to receive a gift. I was embarrassed at his churlishness, but Olikea seemed to expect it. She turned back to the girl and said, “My Great One is not offended by this token. He understands that it was sent as a sign of friendship.”
The girl and the boy exchanged glances. The lantern bearers shifted their feet and then stood silently. I listened to the rising evening wind. It stirred the loose sand of the beach. Behind us, the swelling tide was venturing closer. From the direction of the Trading Place, I saw other lanterns approaching. Those, I surmised, would be the ones coming to clear away our plank table and the bearers who would carry our purchases for us.
It seemed to me that the silence stretched too long before the girl spoke. “Would you care to accompany us to the camping place of Kinrove? He has many rich and wonderful foods to share, and offers you a place to soak in hot water, scented oils and men skilled in applying them, and soft beds with warm blankets for the night.”
Olikea was still. Then she turned to me, leaned closer, and asked softly, “Would the Great One be pleased by any of these things?”
Soldier’s Boy considered. To all outward appearances, he was calm, but I felt the quick energy that swirled through him. “I can accommodate Kinrove,” he said at last, as if he were granting the man a favor rather than accepting a graciously tendered invitation.
Again the young envoys exchanged looks. After a moment, the girl turned back to us. “We will return to him, then, to let him know you will be coming. We will leave a lantern bearer with you, to guide you to us at your leisure.”
“As you wish,” Olikea said. As if they were already gone, she turned her face away from them to look only at me. After a moment, she lifted her cup and drained off the rest of the wine. She appeared to be steeling herself to something.
Kinrove’s envoys retreated a short distance, briefly whispered together, and then departed. A single lantern bearer was left behind. He waited respectfully out of earshot.
“Shall we go to the camp of the Great One?” Likari finally asked them when he could no longer stand their continued silence.
“Hush, foolish one!” Then Olikea spoke on in a lowered voice, “Of course we will! This is a great opportunity. Do you know how long Jodoli waited before Kinrove sent for him? Over three years! And Nevare has been invited on the first day of his first visit to the Trading Place. That is unprecedented.”
The boy leapt up and kicked his feet in the air. “Then let us go!”
The scowl Olikea gave him would have curdled milk. “Sit down!” she hissed at him. “And do not move or speak again without my leave, or you shall be left here for the night to wait for us to return. This is not a time to appear foolish or eager. We must not be incautious. Kinrove is a man to fear. What he wants, he takes. Do not forget that. We have no cause to love or trust him. And he has begun his courtship of Nevare’s friendship with a veiled insult. Nevare is a Great One, Likari. Yet Kinrove sends messengers who are barely more than children, not even his lesser feeders, to give us this invitation. And they speak of Kinrove as the Greatest of the Great Ones, as if all must acknowledge that without discussion. All this he does to assert that he is above Nevare.”
Likari had sunk down onto his heels. He looked from me to his mother and scowled. “But all say Kinrove is the largest Great One who lives, perhaps the largest Great One who has ever lived. All respect him and acknowledge his power.”
“But that may soon change!” Olikea insisted, and she smiled. She looked, for that moment, like a woman who contemplated vengeance. “Look at Nevare. He eats without effort, for pleasure, not even forcing himself. And he grows quickly. Think how short a time it has been since his skin hung slack on him and he was almost too weak to move. Look how much of his weight he has already recovered. The magic has blessed this one. Already he is greater than many of the Great Ones from the other kin-clans. Surely you have seen how Jodoli looks at him, knowing well he will be supplanted by Nevare in less than a year. If our kin-clan turns to him, if he is fed on the best foods, on the foods that nourish his magic, I think that in less than two years he can equal Kinrove, and perhaps surpass him.
“So we do not go to Kinrove now, shaking our fingers in humility and groveling to him. No. We go to let him see that he has a rival, and to demand his respect from the very beginning. Nevare must bear himself as a contender if he is to be seen as one He cannot be seen as desiring too much what Kinrove offers him. He must accept it as if it is natural and perhaps less than what he expected.”
“But—but the food, and the steaming waters and the oil rubs and soft beds!” The boy spoke in a longing whisper and his mouth hung half ajar with wanting.
“We will go. We will enjoy those things, but we will not appear surprised by them or appear to enjoy them too much,” Soldier’s Boy directed him.
Olikea suddenly looked a bit less pleased. “I am not sure we should take him with us. The boy is too young for such things. And there are dangers in Kinrove’s camp, sights that I do not think he should see. Perhaps it would be best if he remained here. When the servants come to clear the dishes—”
“Likari will go with us. And he will be seen as one of my feeders, and treated as one of my feeders, with honor and respect.”
“What will they think of you, having a youngster in such an important position?” Olikea objected.
“They will think,” Soldier’s Boy replied heavily, “that I am a Great One who does things differently. One who has a different vision and would lead the People in a new direction. Now is not too soon for them to become accustomed to that idea.”
The tone he used effectively put an end to the conversation. Olikea sat back slightly and considered me as if she had never seen me before. Perhaps, I thought to myself, perhaps she knows now that it is not Nevare she speaks to, no matter how she names him.
The table servants reached us. We rose then, but slowly, stretching and telling one another what an excellent meal we had enjoyed. Olikea was very particular as she spoke to the servants who would carry our possessions. They had brought a beast of burden as she had charged them. It was a strange animal to my eyes, dun colored, with toes rather than hooves, a skinny body compared to a horse, a drooping sad face and long flopping ears. I heard her call it a quaya. When she was satisfied as to how they had loaded our possessions, she left them and walked ahead to our lantern bearer.
“You may guide us now,” she told him.
He gave us an uncertain look, as if he could not decide whether to be haughty or humble. When I got closer to him, I realized that although he was as tall as a grown man, he was still a youth. Soldier’s Boy frowned. Olikea was right. There was a slight insult in that they had not sent any full-fledged adult with the invitation.
Our bearers had brought their own lanterns, so Olikea deigned that Kinrove’s lantern carrier would walk well ahead of us. I think it was so that she could converse freely without worrying that he would eavesdrop.
He set an easy pace, perhaps because he was accustomed to the unhurried gait of a Great One. We followed, and once we had left the loose sand of the beach we struck a surprisingly good track. It was level and wide enough for a cart, let alone pedestrians.
“Are not you going to thank me?” Olikea asked after we had gone some small ways. Likari had fallen behind, fascinated with the quaya and its handler, so they had a small measure of privacy.
Her tone had made it plain that he owed her thanks for some special feat of cleverness. “For what would I be thanking you?” Soldier’s Boy demanded.
“For making Kinrove take notice of you so swiftly.”
Soldier’s Boy felt a prickle of surprise. “It was my intent that he notice me. For that reason only, I came here to trade.”
“And not because you might find yourself shivering in the cold as soon as the rains of winter began, of course!” Then she dropped her sarcasm and said, “No matter what you brought to trade, Kinrove would have remained aloof to you. No. It was not what we traded with or what we bought, but what we refused to trade that brought this swift invitation to meet him.”
He did not need to think long. “The Ivory Babe. The fertility charm.”
Olikea smiled smugly in the darkness. “Kinrove has six feeders. Six. But of them, there is only one who has been with him since the beginning of his days as a Great Man. It has taken her much work to remain his favorite and to keep his attentions to herself. But Galea grows older, and she has never borne him a child. She knows that if she does not soon produce the baby that he desires, he will turn to another feeder, to see if she cannot serve him better. She grows desperate with her need to become pregnant in order to keep his favor.”
Soldier’s Boy slowly processed this thought. “So we are invited tonight not because Kinrove wishes to meet me but so that his feeder can find a way to persuade you to give her the Ivory Child.”
“So she thinks!” Olikea exclaimed happily.
“I do not wish to part with that item,” he told her firmly. “It means much to me.”
She turned to look at him in the dim and shifting light cast by the lantern bearer. Soldier’s Boy glanced at her and away. “It would please you if I bore you a child?” she asked. Her delight was evident in her voice.
Soldier’s Boy was startled and spoke perhaps more harshly than he intended. “It would not please me to trade away something that Lisana treasured as much as she treasured the Ivory Child. It was important to her. I would keep it to honor her memory.”
Olikea took half a dozen more strides in silence and then said with sharp bitterness, “It would serve you better if you learned to value the efforts of a woman who is here rather than preferring your memories of someone who is a tree now.”
I heard the hurt behind her harsh words. Soldier’s Boy heard only the disrespect to Lisana and the other tree elders.
“I suppose you must strive to be important now,” he said sharply. “For you know you will never earn a tree for yourself.”
“And you think that you will?” she retorted angrily. “Remember, at the end, a Great One is at the mercy of his feeders. Perhaps you should seek to build a bond and some loyalty, so that when your time comes, there will be someone to take your body to a sapling and fasten it correctly and watch over you until the tree welcomes you.”
That was as savage a threat as any Speck could ever offer to a Great One. I felt his shock that she would dare say such a thing reverberate through our shared soul. I would have, I think, sought to mollify the woman, as much for the deep injury she obviously felt as for my own future well-being. But Soldier’s Boy said only, “You are not my only feeder, Olikea.”
They both fell silent. Darkness was closing in around us now, making it difficult to see the terrain we crossed. We followed the beach, but our path gradually led us farther and farther away from it until the crash of the incoming waves was a muted whisper. Our trail took us up a gentle rise through an open field, and still not a word was spoken between the two.
So it was that they were at odds as we approached Kinrove’s encampment. I had pictured a campsite with tents and cook fires. When we crested the small hill, what we looked down on was far more like the temporary encampments that a military force on the move might set up. It was a small town of folk, with a perimeter marked by torches and straight streets between the sturdy pavilions. It was also, I perceived, a substantial walk away, and even though our journey would be downhill, the darkness was deepening every moment and my legs were already weary from the long day of standing and walking. I could feel Soldier’s Boy’s displeasure at the situation. A sound like distant music, oddly muffled, reached us.
A few more steps, and the sensation was not mere displeasure. A sudden wave of dizziness swept over him, followed by the clench of nausea. He groaned suddenly and halted, swaying. Strange to say, the lantern bearer leading us had already stopped. Even as Soldier’s Boy took long, deep breaths to counteract his queasiness, the man lifted his lantern and waved it in three slow arcs over his head. Then he grounded it again and waited. The vertigo swirled Soldier’s Boy around again and then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. Soldier’s Boy took a deep gasping breath of relief and next to me Olikea did the same. As he recovered, a question came to me, one that I thought desperately important. I pushed it strongly at Soldier’s Boy. “He guards his boundaries. Why? What does he fear?”
I could not tell if I’d reached him or not. He made no response to me.
For the first time, our lantern bearer spoke directly to us.
“Kinrove’s guardians will admit us now. Kinrove, Greatest of the Great Ones, will quick-walk all of us to his pavilion.”