Previous Chapter Table of Contents Next Chapter
Topiara - Chapter 14
Winter visitors in a remote Kauwlut camp were a rarity, an event that brought even the frailest band member from his tent to greet the newcomers' entrance to the circle of tents. Jilan envied Lyara's relaxed expression and could only hope that his apprehension did not show to an extreme. His fears were only partially mollified by the open and friendly expressions on the faces of the camp spectators as the two of them rode slowly by, and Jilan had to force himself to keep his eyes glued to Lyara's back and not look about wildly for any signs of his lost cousin.
Guided by Topiara's continuing directions, Lyara rode slowly and steadily to the center of the circle of tents to where she now knew would stand the tent of the camp leader. The flap of the large tent was pushed aside, and a young boy stepped regally out, followed by another youngster who looked about the camp curiously before focusing on the riders approaching. Lyara felt Topiara jolt her with a stab of warmth as she recognized the second boy as the goal of the search, Sidon; and she was quickly grateful that Jilan's face was hidden from the pair in case he also reacted visibly.
Lyon-Khan folded his arms across his chest and waited as the regal young woman drew her mount to a halt and dismounted before his tent. He carefully schooled his expression into one of neutrality and non-surprise, knowing that the entire band would observe his every action and judge his readiness to lead. Even now, they were closing into better hear and observe.
"I bid you welcome to my camp," the young leader said loudly, waving his hand in a circle as if introducing the entire band. "We are of the Khan clan in this circle, without grudge or dispute with any other clan." He folded his arms again and waited for the woman to play her part in the introductions.
Lyara threw her furred cape back, despite the chill wind, and exposed the braided silver belt about her waist. "We are of the . . ." Topiara spoke quickly in her mind. " . . . Chivan clan, seeking no dispute nor carrying a grudge against any other clan. Your band honors us with your welcome." Lyon-Khan nodded seriously and acceptingly at the use of the High Tongue; the sight of the silver belt had identified the woman immediately as one of the High Clans, as Topiara had informed Lyara she was.
"Your slave may dismount in safety and tie your ponies with ours," the young leader finished the traditional words grandly, "and then he can bring your belongings into my tent. The midday meal is not yet served, and you would honor my fire to be my guest."
Lyara turned and nodded at Jilan to dismount, noting that he had indeed recognized his cousin but managed to keep it mostly hidden from any but herself. His mouth moved in the ghost of a wry smile meant only for her, and then Jilan took Surefoot's reins from Lyara and went to do as he had been di rected.
"I see that I am not alone in owning some of the Pride of the South," Lyara commented regally as she followed the Kauwlut leader into the warm dimness of the horse-felt tent. "I hope yours has served you as well as has mine."
Lyon-Kahn smiled at the obvious class-consciousness of the High Clans, at once glad that his own has often made a practice of accepting slaves into the clan instead of forcing them to remain at a low station their entire lives. "Indeed, High-born, this slave has served my clan well in the little time he has been among civilized men." He looked over at Sidon indulgently, noting that the lad had understandably become very intent in watching the older Talandri slave at work; and Lyon-Khan sighed as he tugged on the boy's sleeve to bring him further into the tent to shut out the chill breeze.
He motioned his guest to the pile of folded blankets that functioned by day as seats. "I am Lyon-Khan, oldest son of Kyboy-Khan. We see few of the Highborn on the plains these days, especially during the season of the snows. May I ask your name and why you have sought us out?"
Lyara settled herself down on the soft blankets. "I am Lyara-Chivan, and I am on my way to join with my father. My slave and I were separated from the rest of my party by the last storm; and our coming to your camp was purely by accident, although a fortunate one."
Lyon-Khan frowned. "I know of no one traveling the plains now; surely I should have been informed to watch if some one so High-born were out at this most dangerous time of year."
Lyara fixed the leader with a steely stare, inwardly shivering at this first challenge to the story Topiara had instructed her to tell. "We did not expect to still be astride our ponies this late, and there has never been a time when the Chivan have had to beg permission to travel Khan lands at any time of year." Were the words not Topiara's, Lyara would have refused to address the formidable young man in such an arrogant fashion; but Lyon-Khan seemed satisfied at both the tone and wording of her answer as he motioned for her to partake in the meal one of the women brought into the tent even as they spoke.
With his challenge met satisfactorily, Lyon-Khan settled back to eat his meal in typical Kauwlut silence and study the stunning visitor carefully. The fetish she wore looked both new and well-cared for, something he had thought lacking in the High Clans lately; few of those from the west cared to be visibly loyal to the Wolf-Faced One unless they were mystics, shamans or healers. Lyara seemed tall for a Kauwlut woman, and that height seemed to augment the regal deliberateness of her movements. Lyon-Khan found himself wishing that she were not so old that she could no longer be considered a possible mate, for this woman would be the first he could present to his father that would have been seriously considered.
By the time Jilan scratched at the tent flap, there was only a scant bowlful of the spicy stew left; and he took the offered bowl from the young Kauwlut leader with eyes lowered and retreated to a spot near the opening where he squatted back on his heels in the manner Lyara had described carefully to him. He had held his breath while accepting the bowl, for Sidon had been in the line of sight of the Kauwlut leader; and, had the boy made any excited gestures toward him, Jilan was sure the sharp eyes of the Kauwlut would have noticed it.
As it was, Sidon had quickly determined that it would be best for him not to show that he had recognized one of the newcomers for fear that Jilan too would be taken away. Hard as it was, the boy forced himself to pay close attention to the woman who had accompanied his cousin into camp, finding it difficult to understand that Jilan had become the companion of a Kauwlut as well. When Lyara, feeling the boy's gaze on her, lifted her eyes to look at him directly, she felt a shock travel from her breast where Topiara hid through every atom of her being. Sidon only knew that the woman's gaze had touched off a fit of shivering in him; the visitor may have been Kauwlut, but she was there to take him away.
The exchange had not gone unnoticed by Lyon-Kahn. "You seem fascinated by my slave-boy, Lyara-Chivan."
"You see much, Lyon-Khan," Lyara replied, having to force down her astonishment and make her tone one of haughtiness. "I find it hard to believe that such a fragile-looking Southerner can survive on the plains; this one hasn't stopped complaining for days." She stabbed her index finger in the general direc tion of Jilan. "Does yours complain so much?"
"Not at all. In fact, I've not heard one complaint from him in all the time he's been in my camp." Lyon-Khan found himself proud that he could tell the truth about the boy to a Highborn without betraying that the boy was defective.
Lyara raised her eyebrow in a mild display of haughty amazement, remembering the many facial expression of Dynia and how she had used them. "Indeed, Lyon-Khan. He must be one of the very few wise enough to know when to keep his mouth shut." She marveled at the ease with which she had managed to turn the topic of conversation from herself to Sidon, and gave the boy what she hoped was an appraising stare. "It would be a pleasure to have a slave who did not complain, I think. Have you consid ered selling him?"
From his place by the opening, Jilan choked quietly on his stew; and Lyon-Khan stared at the visiting Highborn woman in amazement and shock. The young Kauwlut looked at his prize, both with pride and a little apprehension, then shook his head. "Surely you jest, Lyara-Chivan. What could you want with one so small and, as you mentioned, fragile on such a strenuous trek as yours?"
Lyara took the heavy pouch of specie from where it hung on her belt, glad of Topiara's informing her that the Kauwlut used stolen Talandri specie as well as their own coin in purchases. "I assure you, Lyon-Khan, I spoke no jest. Name your price for the boy and you shall have it."
Sidon looked from the pouch in the black-haired woman's hand to his captor, hardly daring to breathe. This was a gesture he totally understood - the woman meant to buy his freedom. As Lyon-Khan turned to look at him yet again, Sidon care fully allowed his features to not show any sign of his excitement.
"I will have to consider your offer carefully, Highborn," Lyon-Khan answered finally. "This one has been . . . an unusual asset to my camp, and I'm not so sure that my father would approve of my disposing of him so quickly if he knew the circum stances of that service."
Lyara replaced the pouch on her belt, trying not to let any of her disappointment show on her face. "Since I will be spending some time in your camp, at least until this cycle of storms has passed over us, I see no reason to try to hurry your decision. I will be content while you consider."
Lyon-Khan sighed in relief, happy that he had bought himself time to confer with the shaman about the wisdom of the offer and whether it would be better in the long run to sell the boy to one who would be able to possibly put the boy's talents to good use for the Kauwlut people on a larger scale. "It is settled then. You will consider this tent your home for the next week or until the cycle of storms ends, and I will give you my decision at a time prior to your leaving my camp." He rose and signaled for Sidon to accompany him. "I will make arrange ments for my substitute lodgings now while your slave unpacks your belongings. If you should have any needs, I will be with Cloud-Rider, our shaman."
Lyara put her finger to her lips and peeked out the tent flap to check that Lyon-Khan had indeed moved away. Then she turned to Jilan, finger still on her lips to urge him to speak quietly. "Speak Kauwlut," she warned sternly. "They will not try to listen unless they hear a word of Talandri."
"You don't think for a moment that we could simply buy Sidon's freedom, do you?" Jilan sounded amazed and hopeful. "They've taken good care of him; he's grown since he was stolen."
"You may begin with this pack," Lyara said loudly in case someone was listening. Then, she whispered, "Your cousin has already proved his uniqueness to them, Jilan. I saw that as Lyon-Kahn and I spoke. It may be that we can buy him back, but I have a hunch that we will have to steal him back in the same way he was taken to begin with."
Jilan scowled as he went about the task he had been as signed by his "mistress." "I never imagined we'd be able to get him back any other way," he grumbled.
Lyara cocked an eyebrow at him. "Listen, if I could find a way to get Sidon that would not involve causing a dispute, I'd jump at the chance. The Kauwlut love to barter; just about as much as they love a good fight." She gave him a cautious smile. "From now on, whatever I say, go along with it. If I say you complain a lot, do so and loudly. I have an idea, but for it to work I'll need your complete cooperation no matter what."
"I'm not so sure I like the sound of that."
"I'm sure you wouldn't if you knew. Now, if you please, I think it's about time you start complaining."
"I don't see where you have any problem, Leader," Cloud-Rider said after taking a long draw of smoke from his pipe. "In fact, selling the boy might just solve your dilemma of what to do with the boy."
"It just seems to have happened too quickly," Lyon-Khan said, pounding a frustrated fist on his folded knee. "An un known member of another clan comes riding into camp in the middle of the snows with a Talandri slave, and within an hour has made an offer for my own captive. Something isn't right."
The shaman shrugged. "The High-born wears the braided belt of a High Clan, and we knew for a fact that there are none but Kauwlut who possess such items. And don't tell me you haven't taken a fancy to something in one of your visits and spoken up directly to try to acquire it." At Lyon-Khan's sheepish expression of admission, the old man nodded. "I thought not. Besides, you have the High-born's agreement to remain in camp for the rest of the storm cycle; it should give you the time to get a better feeling for her intentions."
"I still don't like it."
"Face it," Cloud-Rider said gently, "You don't like the idea of losing the defective healer. I've watched you these last few days," the shaman said, brushing aside the young man's abortive efforts to argue. "I know that you have long looked for someone you could consider as a younger brother, slave or not. But you know as well as I that your father would never consider taking a defective Talandri into the clan. The best you could hope for would be that he would allow you to keep the boy for the time being while he decides what to do with him."
"I stole him," the young Kauwlut complained softly but firmly, "and he's mine!"
"A good leader has to learn when it is prudent to make sacrifices," Cloud-Rider said somberly. "Take the time you have been given, assess the situation and then make your decision accordingly. And remember, Lyon-Khan, what happens during this leadership test of the snows may influence the course of the rest of your life."
Previous Chapter Table of Contents Next Chapter