CHAPTER 2 Learning to Walk the Plains of Tarc
Obi took a deep breath, then let it out explosively, without singing. He really didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure they were safe yet...they hadn't reached the next clan, who was supposed to be somewhere between neutral to set against the Lord of Tarc and so therefore an acceptable clan to run to...and they were supposed to be making the evening report. It would normally be okay to postpone the report a few hours even, if necessary, but not tonight. Not when he'd heard in the middle of the night she'd seen his death in a night terror, and that she'd been having nightmares in general since he'd been in Tarc. Ilena would think he was dead, and everyone would be angry with everyone again. Really, what was Master thinking? He wouldn't go back for Ilena, he'd go back to hit Master in the head to get his brain functioning again. He was here for Ilena, but he'd trusted all of them with her so he could do his job.
Obi sighed and put his chin on his knees. He was holding his golden-green cloak around his body, his knees pulled up to his chest, resting on the ground so his horse could rest a bit. The horse was also sitting, it's cloak keeping it camouflaged as well, though the Tarc horses were already pretty close to the color they needed for it. So far Ilena's idea had been working. He'd been passed, though not overly closely, at least five or seven times since they'd run from the clan this morning without being seen. He'd sat through about a half-hour of the clan council when they started going a direction he hadn't liked. He'd tried to carefully steer them to proper thinking and they'd sneered at him and decided they'd push that button, since he'd shown it to them. That wasn't going to fly, so he'd just up and boldly told them what they should be doing if they were right thinkers (rational, normal, sane humans who wanted to have decent relations with other humans). They laughed at him, called him names, etc. At that point Petroi had whispered to Justinian, at their tent, to start packing. It fell apart quickly after that and, even though he hadn't wanted to, it ended up with Obi walking out of the council with Thayne and Petroi at his back. They had just enough time to pack it all up, when the bondsmen - the warriors of the clan - had decided to come see what they were up to.
One thing had led to another, and, as kind of expected since this was one of the Lord of Tarc's allied clans, they'd ended up running for their lives while being chased by all the bondsmen. They'd practiced enough before coming that they knew generally what to do. This was the first practical run of it, though. It hadn't gone as bad as it could have. It's just that every time they tried to use the code to find the next clan by communicating with the Child in it, this clan would show up in their area to hunt for them again.
Petroi's comments that sound travelled very well across the plains had been rather of an understatement, really. When he sang the slightly louder long-distance communications, it rang in the air like a small crystal bell had been struck lightly but clearly. Even though Ilena had tried to make it a combination of sounds that were familiar to Tarc, because it was strung together like words it drew the attention of anyone with an ear to listen and hear it. Since they were being hunted there were lots of ears looking to hear them.
Right now, Obi was torn. He wanted to experiment with something, and he'd told the others he was going to go off and to listen for him. He'd come as quickly as he could if it drew enemies again. But he also wanted to get off one message back to Ilena to let her know he was alive and would contact her late. He wasn't sure he'd have the time to do both unless he moved again in between. Finally he turned just enough to be looking back towards his companions and used the local language to talk to them. He'd gone far enough he should have to use the long distance one. The local languages, not too dissimilar from each other, were whispered at a frequency of singing that most people didn't hear. His theory was that if the song was heard more clearly, then the whisper should be also. Perhaps they could use the whisper as if it was the song.
He listened closely. Sounding as if it was the wind in the grass itself, the answer came back. He asked another question, and whispered it just a little louder. The response back was a little clearer to hear. Of course, now the real test was, would it draw the enemy? Would they hear that level? He and the others wouldn't know. They always heard it now, that level of the whispered code.
Listening, he heard a different song from the south, but it was faint enough he couldn't catch it. He sent south, requesting they strengthen it just a bit, and listened again. Father. In three more hours, if … do not find you, they will … you have ..ched the ..ext clan. The wind stole a couple sounds away.
Obi relaxed in relief and sent back in the whisper, Thank you. Can you send to Ilena that we will be late to contact her, but we are alive?
Yes, Fath...
Two birds with one stone and they were likely to survive. This was much better. Obi crawled to his horse and climbed on his back, laying down as close to his neck as possible. He gave the silent command for 'up', and the horse was on its feet and they were moving back towards Obi's companions. He whispered the news back up to them and let them know that he was coming.
-o-o-o-
So...the whispers go as far as the song and the song... even that quiet? ...Must go directly from clan to clan, then. Ilena was pinching her lip. They were in council in the cool fall night air on the platform on the north wall that had been built for them to communicate from up to Tarc. Because the majority of them could speak it, they had a translator from the code to Clarinees here at this end - Henry this evening. It was good practice for those learning it still. Zen had learned the previous code, but they'd changed it just before the incursion into Tarc so the Lord of Tarc wouldn't know they were coming. Liam was new to it all. The garrison commander had requested that two of his officers learn it as well, and Zen had agreed. That way they could communicate with the garrison if things fell apart. Ilena found it extraneous, but then she already knew Zen found Liam extraneous. That had been her exchange.
When he'd come to her to confront her about it again, she'd hit him on the head with it - figuratively and politely - since he'd missed it the first time. She'd also apologized again for not letting him know ahead of time. Then she'd taken the opportunity to dig into him to find out why he wasn't letting it go. While one of her post-graduation degrees was manipulation and social motivation, psychology was a natural off-branch from it she dabbled in when she needed to deal with such issues. At least it helped him to finally get to the heart of the matter that he'd had opened the night before by Mitsuhide, from what he'd said. Even princes with experience in strategy and small scale battles and internal conflict get stressed out about wars with other kingdoms they suddenly have to handle on their own for the first time.
For the most part, Zen had known instinctively that his hand-holder was Ilena, King Izana having made this war Zen's test, but he'd forgotten to let her do it consciously. They planned together and organized the schedule for the day together, but he hadn't been coming to her to admit his insecurities so she could tell him if they were baseless or important. So he'd just been worrying about all of them all on his own. Once that was figured out, he'd apologized and said he would come to just visit with her more often for them to talk, just the two of them, particularly when he felt the worries come on again.
Forgiving him for not letting everyone tell Obi she'd needed specific support was a little harder, for not just her, either. The Immediate Family present still had him in punishment, and Ilena was already including Liam in the Immediate Family for all he still had a lot to learn. Immediate Family had always meant 'Mental and Emotional Supporter for Mother', not just staff. She was Mother - the support and light of a great many people who had only darkness in their lives until she'd found them, done what little she could to help them see the light or step out of the part of their lives that made it dark. The whole point was because she needed it, too. She'd had so much darkness growing up that she had learned it was better to help others to see the light. Then they were more likely to help you remember to look for it as well. That had won her devoted people who were more than happy to help her gather information, and some were even willing to go do crazy stuff for her every once in a while, or even dangerous things she wished she didn't have to ask them to do but couldn't do herself. ...Like this war.
She had over three thousand Children here in northeast Wilant and in Tarc just on this war itself. She had no idea how she'd managed that number, but they were from both the nightlife and those who were normal (mostly) and worked in the light of day. In the end the numbers for the war were probably slightly weighted heavier night House than day Family, since it was the nightwalkers who were used to hit and run tactics and assassination - that being their night jobs. Still, that was a lot of people to gather under her in about ten years, and there were even more that weren't here.
It probably does. Kids, speak up. You should have told us this before. ...Sorry Mother, Father. It does. That is why so few of us are necessary. Obi's scolding was immediately followed with the response to it, indicating the next messenger over had answered it so that Obi had also heard it.
Ah, I see, Ilena said. I 've actually been thinking of a solution to a separate problem that we might be able to use for this one as well. I want more people available to protect Obi in the field, like for days like today, and to hopefully help me sleep better. If they were there, we could drop it down to the local completely and only use the long distance when necessary, or when you're protected. I also would like to use the codes, either one or both, when we aren't communicating normal or emergency...it can even be old codes to keep things confusing...to add to the rumors the All is restless and considering becoming corporeal. Specifically, I'd like to send out squads now instead of having everyone come with us when we go up from here. I've already begun to send them, when Obi left the first clan.
The discussion lasted nearly two hours as they hammered out the details, both to her suggestion and to how they would move forward nightly to help her manage her terrors. It was a late night for them, but it was the best time to council. The Tarcs slept hard, except the herdsman and if he called everyone was trained to awaken instantly, and they were superstitious about the night wind. They all set up their tents with the doors towards the center of the encampment the same as the horses stood in the herds to keep warm and protected.
When Obi had heard that at the first clan after they'd set up on the outside of the encampment on the south side with the door facing south and away from the center, he'd been surprised, then apparently shrugged and said he did things differently. He wouldn't budge, even when they finally told him it was to prevent the madness the night winds brought. He'd smiled at that and said he was fine with it. Ilena had laughed at him for being 'natural' yet again. It was just more proof, only from a Tarc perspective, that they were wild - not calmly normal like everyone else. The superstition made it perfect for communications in the Department of Intelligence across the distance.
-o-o-o-
Justinian was walking the tents of the fourth clan. They had arrived shortly after breakfast. Obi, Petroi, and Thayne were in the council tent testing the clan and being tested. Just in case, they weren't going to set up the tent until after. Their horses were grazing outside the clan encampment, still burdened. Obi had decided, after their discussion last night, to change how he did things, even though it went against Tarc tradition. From now on, they would arrive in time for the council meeting. If all went well, and they were invited to, they would then pitch their tent. If they were invited but not sure all would go smoothly they would either give their regrets, or just wait to set up the tent until evening. They would also take down the tent before going to eat breakfast. Ilena had warned them that it might be necessary, but they hadn't remembered.
Justinian had let them know last night that he had all of the interior packed by the time he got the warning they were going to run, but with only him to take down the tent, he hadn't even finished untying the wall before the rest had come. The slightly longer delay from all of them having to take down the tent had meant the bondsmen had arrived on the scene before they were gone. If they were already gone, then they had that much more the head start. To have been able to walk out of the council tent, whistle for the horses, mount and ride would have been better by far...and if they had been chased out of the council tent with swords drawn, they would likely have met a much sorrier end.
Justinian's job, while they were in the council, was to walk the tents to learn what he could, both about the Tarc people and about the particular clan they were in. He walked very quietly up to the two young boys who had caught his attention. He was only wearing his Kir'nah braid. He had learned that more than that and the youngest and slaves wouldn't talk to him. He crouched down behind the boys, who were trying to peek under a tent wall. His shadow fell on them and they finally realized he was there. They jumped and turned. Justinian held his finger to his mouth to keep them quiet and smiled at them. Then he picked them up, one in each arm and carried them off, though to where they could still see the tent. He slipped down into a cross-legged sit, still holding them, and sat one on each knee. "What were you looking for?" he whispered to them very quietly. "What's in that tent? Can I see it too?"
One little boy had the courage to whisper in his ear, covering his mouth with one hand, what they had been trying to see. Justinian nodded soberly. It was good to know, but not something he wanted to see, so he asked what some of the other tents held. The only obvious tents in the encampments were the council tent, the dining tent, the clan head tent, and his wives' tent. At the last one, there was always someone on guard at the door. The boys each pointed to tents around them and whispered to him what was in them - or at least what they believed was in them. He had learned that it was rather hit and miss with little boys, but they knew what should be in tents and that was just as much information. When he had gotten all he was going to get, he whispered that they should be more careful to not get caught next time, or he would have to tell the council he had caught them this time, as well. They clapped their hands over their mouths and nodded. He put his hand over his mouth as well and they nodded and ran off. That was the sign for, we won't tell.
In his information gathering, he used his ears first, and now that he had a new way to listen he heard more than he would have. He was surprised that the level at which the Department of Intelligence whispered communications was at was also a level that sounds came on that wouldn't otherwise when spoken at a distance. When his ears couldn't tell him any more, then he moved to people. He liked to start with the youngest he could find. They always had interesting things to say, and when handled right would assume you were young like they were, particularly when he only wore the Kir'nah braid. That meant he was still a young man, the P'rathna had taught. He was small and slight enough to look young, for a Tarc. They didn't bulk out until in their twenties. The second set of people he went looking for, to ask benign questions to, were the oldest - the usuri.
Usuri seemed to mean 'grandfather' or 'old man', but was almost a title. They were too old to fight or do much physical labor, and he knew a number were in the council tent as advisors, but there were always a few outside the tents. Sometimes they were on the edges of the encampment where it was quiet and they could hear and feel the wind. Sometimes they were in the center, holding lessons for the boys still too young to enter the council tent. Usually there were three that could be found. He'd learned that one was almost always hidden where he could keep an eye and ear on any slaves or servants, making sure they weren't getting into trouble. He'd gotten a scolding from that one two clans ago and had to do some fancy apologizing to get out of it. He'd learned something useful from that, though, and the others had been using it. He had explained, using his youthful disguise, "I'm sorry. I'm still young and trying to understand. Have I acted wrongly?"
The usuri had paused and then explained exactly what he had done wrong and the typical consequence for doing it, but hadn't applied it since it had been his learning experience. That implied that next time he would be punished for doing it, so he hadn't done it again. When he'd explained it to the others that evening at their conference, Master Obi had looked thoughtful. He apparently used it himself later after making an intentional error, not related to law. He had received the same response, and also had received a very interesting look before it had been explained. Petroi and Thayne had tested it out at separate times as well, and had received the same responses.
Master Obi had explained his theory as they were riding between clans. "I think it is because they wonder if I'm the Marluk'. If you remember from the lore, the spirit of 'right thinking' becomes corporeal, but that doesn't mean he knows how to live the life of a man, the same for those spirits who come to support him. They've only lived the lives of spirits. For us to ask, as if we are really youths, politely, and listen earnestly, and then follow what we've learned, I think for them is one of the signs we might be newly corporeal. That look they give, I've seen it on the faces of the P'rathna who follow us, when we've done something that might be proof of it."
Thayne had nodded slowly. "Yes, I've seen it then, too." He'd looked behind them briefly. "I wonder if he survived the third clan?"
"He did. He isn't going to fight with them, just let them tell him stories," Mister Petroi had said blandly. The P'rathna with them had decided that it would not be good for him to actually be with them, after the reception he'd gotten at the first clan, that was even an ally of Ilena's. He'd stayed back one day and was following after them, visiting the same clans and listening to their stories about the four of them. In this way he hoped to also hear what they thought about them as the Marluk' and his companions. Master Obi was okay with it. It meant one less variable, and it meant one more way for the rumors to spread. If he showed up after they were gone and asked if the clan thought he was the Marluk', then they would wonder it all the more themselves.
Justinian was just as happy to have one less person to clean up after and more room in the tent, like the rest of them. He also wasn't sure the P'rathna would have understood too well when Master Obi kissed him on the top of the head as a reward. Remembering that made Justinian sigh. For some reason, while everyone else had managed to get away from getting that reward from Master Obi, he got it all the time. Since he was the manservant it was hard to figure out how to tell him to stop. Not that he couldn't put up with it. He'd put up with a lot in his life and these almost thoughtless gestures were not the worst, nor most embarrassing, by far. Master Obi did keep them reserved for more private times, thank goodness, like when it was just the four of them in the tent or on the plains, but Justinian wouldn't be surprised if it kept going that he started forgetting to do that, too. He'd wanted to ask Mistress Ilena while they were at the garrison, but there hadn't been a good time that he'd remembered, and now they were on the plains he didn't want to ask through the communication line. It seemed both too embarrassing and potentially damaging to Master Obi's reputation. But...with a month of practice and familiarity...maybe he should ask at least...oh, no, not Mister Petroi. Thayne then.
Thinking these gloomy thoughts, Justinian almost ran into another person. He quickly helped the male slave to rebalance so he didn't fall and apologized for not paying attention to his footsteps. The slave gave him a strange look, then a different one. Justinian looked at him for a moment. "Ah...don't men usually apologize for their mistakes?"
After a moment of blinking, the slave answered, "It's not needed for an apology to be given to a slave...though I'm grateful."
Justinian had been right. That was the cause of the first strange look. The second one was the other one - the 'are you a corporeal spirit servant of the Marluk'?' strange look.
Justinian tried another experiment. "All men are placed on the earth to serve in one way or another, even the clan lord serves the clan and all in it. Are not all men who serve willingly and obediently worthy of kindness and gratitude?"
That got him the look he expected. He bowed slightly and walked off. He'd gotten into trouble that other time for talking too long and overly friendly with a slave, asking questions about the clan. He'd been told that it meant that he was a spy trying to get information about the clan, rather than a guest only. It was sad and made his information gathering more difficult. He could only talk to a few and it had to be like this - just a few words exchanged to get what little information he could. Or, like in this case, spread the rumors and if possible the ideals the Clarines people held. The Tarc needed to grow up a little and become a more mature people if at all possible. It would take a long time, though, maybe even generations, but if he could help start it, he would have made a contribution he could be proud of. He would have to remember that slaves found gratitude and kindness to be significant in their lives. That might help them later, if they could find opportunities to use that to their advantage.
The usuri Justinian found was willing to teach him. While he could have sat in the council with his Kir'nah, it didn't seem surprising to the usuri that he sought them out instead. Maybe it was because he wasn't of the clan, and maybe it was because they were lonely. Or they wanted gossip to talk about, too. He let a few things escape that wouldn't say he was a corporeal spirit of the lore, but which the usuri might repeat later as potential evidence he'd thought it. He would listen in the evening, when the people talked most together, to see if that was why they were willing to teach him...if he was still here in the evening.
"Jus-tin-i-an." It floated across the air. We're staying the night and will leave in the morning. Come help set up the tent.
"Ah, I'm sorry. I've been called." Justinian rose from the ground and bowed slightly to the usuri who nodded politely back. Justinian trotted back towards where they would set up the tent. That was easy to do. He just followed around the outside of the tents until he reached the southernmost part and whistled for the horses. While they arrived, he carefully checked the ground for ...well, there were no sticks in Tarc, and almost no rocks to speak of. He had found nests of various birds, however. It had surprised him the first time to have a bird go flapping up in his face in a sudden burst of powerfully beating wings. He'd jumped back, but gotten a bit of a scratch on his cheek from the sharp forewings. He had carefully moved the nest out of the way of the placement of the tent and looked for more nests. He did that now, carefully so as to not get hit by wings again. When he didn't find a nest, he motioned the first pack horse over and started untying the sticks that made up the walls. That made him pause and wonder where the Tarc got their sticks from. He'd have to ask the usuri next time he talked to one. That would make them wonder for sure. He smiled slightly at that thought.
"Hey, your smile stuck again," Thayne teased as he reached for the pile of wall sticks.
"No, I just put it on," Justinian said, not bothering to remove it just yet.
"Why's that?" Thayne asked as Justinian followed him. Mister Petroi hoisted the roof sticks up on his shoulder behind them. Thayne and Justinian set up the wall. Mister Petroi and Master Obi did the ceiling.
Justinian held on to the first stick of each side of the door as Thayne walked backwards pulling on the opposite side. The wall unfolded and stretched out into a circle of crossed sticks pinned together until it was tightly set open. As they worked, Justinian answered with what had caused it and Thayne grinned at him. "Yup. That would set them over, wouldn't it? I've been wondering where they get the metal. I wonder if it's the same place?"
"The mountains, most likely," Master Obi said as he walked through the door and to the side of the tent wall near Mister Petroi.
Mister Petroi nodded and hefted the roof sticks up onto the wall as Justinian and Thayne held it steady. The pile he had thrown unfolded like a fan as it went. Master Obi caught it with a long pole and pulled backwards towards the other side of the wall. Mister Petroi kept it balanced on his side and helped it to unfold into a circle held in the center and pinned the rest of the way around with cross beam sticks. It was quite a bit larger in diameter than the wall and the sticks stuck out pretty far.
Justinian set the door poles tightly in the ground and called the second pack horse. He pulled off the roof cloth and carried it to Mister Petroi. While Master Obi kept the ceiling sticks as steady as he could, Mister Petroi billowed the roof cloth on top of them. Justinian held the cloth and fed it over the sticks while Mister Petroi dragged the cloth past him and up onto the sticks. When Thayne could grab an edge, he also pulled on it. Master Obi had to lift the cloth over the center where the center stick ends tended to grab it. He pulled it onward a bit, but not enough to make the sticks shift from being centered on the wall. Once they had the roof settled on the sticks and the center ends sticking properly out the hole in the top, Master Obi pushed with his pole on the center and the rest of them reached up for the ties. As soon as the center was at the right height, they lashed the ties attached to the roof around the ceiling sticks and the top rail of the wall sticks. As quickly as they could they worked counterclockwise, tieing them on and setting the smaller support sticks that had flopped down when the circle had been lifted on the top rail as well. That spread out the wall until it was tight. It wouldn't fall now, and it didn't need to be staked. The tension to keep the whole tent up was in the construction and weight of the roof. There were no stakes and lines to trip over in the whole encampment, unless the spring storms were coming. Then there were stakes and lines that could be used to tie the tents to the ground so they didn't get blown away. The four of them didn't need them. This was fall.
Thayne, who was now closest to the pack horse, collected the wall cloth while Justinian trotted back to meet him. Master Obi set the pole up inside on the top of the wall to be the support for the chamberpot area and came out to get that cloth wall. As Justinian tied the door end of the wall cloth to the top rail, Thayne trotted around the outside of the wall, letting the wall cloth loose as he went until he reached Mister Petroi, now at the center back. Thayne stayed there to start tieing and Mister Petroi carried the rest of the wall back around to the door. The four of them spent the next little while quickly tying the wall up, then rejoined each other at the door.
The second pack horse was relieved of the floor by Master Obi and he and Petroi rolled it out while the rest of them took the bedding and clothing bags off the third pack horse. Once that was inside and all the beds rolled out, each doing his own because that was the fastest way they'd learned, Justinian went back out to the fourth pack horse and took off its burden of the kitchen and household items. Thayne and Mister Petroi hunted for dried horse dung for the fire, not the best source, but what the plains held. Master Obi dug the small circle they would need for the firepit, piling up the dirt around the edges of it to contain the fire to some degree. They had learned they would have to be very careful to not let the entire plains catch fire, and they were always watchful for sparks that got loose, to run and stamp them out immediately.
Once the fire pit was dug, Master Obi took up the water containers and whistled and his horse came. He gave it the sign for 'where's water?' and the stallion nodded. Obi climbed on his back, still saddled at this point, and they trotted off. They could have used the well that the clan was encamped around, but they had learned from the P'rathna and the Children that some of the clans were now using the excuse that if a guest used their water and supplies they had to stay and pay for it with their own effort - that is, they were making them stay as reluctant bondsmen. It went completely against clan tradition and was being used by the Lord of Tarc's allies to inflate their numbers. It was making it difficult for the other clans to increase in strength in another way - when a Kir'nah was ready for the Manak', he had to leave his clan, unless the clan lord gave him a wife. Most of the time that only happened if the Kir'nah was his own heir, or had displayed particularly high wisdom or strength and he wanted to keep him.
The Manak' was the braid of manhood. It meant you had a wife and had bedded her. It meant you were capable of wise thought and careful reasoning. It meant you had to spread your blood to other clans to tie them together with bonds of marriage. And it meant you could vote in the lower council of the Marluk'nak'. They didn't set law, but they did pass judgements when necessary. They could also have their voice heard when a law was proposed in the Marluk'nak' or grand council of both the lower and upper councils that occurred once a year for a week. The more Manak' a clan had, the greater its strength and power in the Marluk'nak'. Thus, the allies of the Lord of Tarc were trying to increase their power in the lower court by going against clan tradition in this way. So far, the neutral clans had been angry about this practice and had confirmed it, when asked, as a 'well-spoken rumor'. Obi had decided to get around it by using as little of the clan supplies as possible.
They would have to be present at the dinner. It was the special 'gift' of the clan to the guests that the All required. Rumor was going around, though, that those clans were now also ignoring that tradition and including the guest dinner in the list of reasons to make the Manak' candidates stay. Obi had commented that if that was true, they would just have to run when confronted with it, since there was no way they were going to stay in any clan. He was also hoping the fact that they were coming as a Candidate Clan Head, and the Seconds of another Candidate Clan Head they wouldn't be expected to stay in the same way.
The Candidate Clan Heads, or two Seconds if that person couldn't go themselves, were tested by each clan in the clan councils for their capacity for wisdom, right thinking, and an understanding of the law. The testing went both ways. The Candidate Clan Head was looking for who would be an acceptable ally and who they might be enemies with. They had to have a majority be allies in order for them to be accepted at the Marluk'nak', since after they presented their proof that they could be a clan lord, the other clan lords voted as to whether they would allow it or not. At the moment, that was problematic because the Lord of Tarc had the majority - five out of nine clans. By the time of the vote, it wouldn't matter. They would have removed the Lord of Tarc and it would be evenly split. They only needed to win over one ally. They hadn't at the last one, so now they had three more tries. It went without saying they couldn't lose any of the neutrals at all, but so far Master Obi, Mister Petroi, and Thayne had all been highly impressive in the clan councils.
Justinian's face set in fierce pride. He knew they weren't putting on a front to win votes or popularity. They really believed in thinking rightly, applying wisdom, and finding the right balance between justice and mercy. He'd sat in the first several clan councils and knew it for himself. Suddenly a finger was under his chin and was lifting his face up.
"Ah! Don't change expressions. I want to see that one." Justinian sighed to himself and obeyed. Master Obi's orders were orders. He was supposed to teach him that, especially when they shouldn't have been given. A Lord had to learn when orders were and weren't appropriate. This was not an appropriate one, but he knew Master Obi wouldn't understand it on his own. This was just him being him.
Before he could get kissed for being proud of his companions, he let the expression go and frowned. "Why?"
"Because you don't have expressions often and I want to see all of them."
"Since when was he your girlfriend?" Trust Thayne to show up at the right time and say the right thing.
Master Obi dropped his finger from Justinian's chin. "Ah, sorry." He handed over the water and turned away to take his horse's saddle and saddle blanket off.
"Sooo… why that one?" Thayne asked Justinian. Even though Thayne could help him correct Master Obi, he was just as curious as to what was going through Justinian's mind.
Justinian sighed. "Because I'm proud to have such honorable companions," he said as he turned to his work now that he had water to work with.
Everyone stopped and stared at him, then broke out with grins. Justinian threw his arms over his head. Sure enough more than one had come to give him a rub of the head. He waved the hands away. "Go finish with your horses," he complained at them and they obediently left him to his work. He sighed to himself again, then just got lost to his work.
-o-o-o-
Petroi looked up. He'd heard a soft footfall behind him. Indeed, it was Justinian, come with a brush. Petroi closed his eyes, then looked back down at his saddle. It was new, and very nice, but the afternoon before a very rude Tarc had decided to cut into it too deeply. He had to repair it before they had to run again. As he punched another hole in the leather with the awl from the leather kit, he felt the first of the braids being undone. This was going to be potentially difficult. Maybe if he could get the holes done fast enough, he could lace the pieces together while the brushing and braiding were going on.
Justinian didn't seem to quite focus on what was going on around him. Normally servants would wait until a person was not busy with their own tasks for such things. Justinian seemed to just do it when it was the next thing on his list to be doing. ...Or when he was very nervous and unable to contain himself. Petroi had learned that the first time Justinian had brushed his hair. It had been surprising, but a useful hint in how to help him and train him for being in Tarc. Now, though, he felt it was okay to do it all the time, when Petroi was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Of course, Justinian would do it to all of them if there was time, and this afternoon there was.
As Justinian got to the next braid, Petroi looked around. Oh. He was next on the list already. Master Obi and Thayne were already done. Justinian must be getting faster. Petroi finished punching the hole he was working on, then set the awl down with a sigh. If Justinian was faster, then maybe it would be okay to be interrupted. He sat back from his work and crossed his legs and closed his eyes, sitting in a pose of meditation and reflection.
Since he was getting his braids done, and wishing to be working, it was braids he thought of, only it wasn't when Justinian did them. His mistress, the independent and strong Princess Ilena, had given them all their braids formally just before they set out from the garrison to come into Tarc. She had properly done Master Obi's first, as her husband and their Lord and master. Petroi had watched her braid the earned right-side braids starting with the Kir'nah, with the marker of the Full Moon representing her clan of the Family. That had made sense. He was Father and she'd started him out as Father at the beginning since she'd come to him again. Then he'd watched her braid another Kir'nah and put the marker of the New Moon in it, representing the House. He'd held out a hand, palm forward, and Ilena had smiled at him.
"I know, Petroi, but there will be more double markers by the time I'm done. He learned how to be strong in the night, the same as he learned to be compassionate with me from before. He's passed the Kir'nah in both houses. The double Kir'nah will stand."
Petroi never argued with his mistress unless her life was on the line, so he'd just folded his arms again and watched. The third braid had been the Manak' with the marker of the Regent of Wilant's mark. That had made sense as well. It was in the castle court of Regent Zen that Master Obi and Princess Ilena had been given to each other, and by the Regent himself. The fourth braid was the P'rathna, earned by memorizing the Tarc Law and it's many cases. The fifth braid was the Clan Head braid. She'd placed the large, heavy Sleeping Cat Clan Head marker in it, but said as she did so that he shouldn't wear it again in the braid until he stood before the council in the Marluk'nak' at his testing. Justinian had nodded. He would be doing the braiding for Master Obi. Every braid she was braiding had another person's hair braided into it as well to make them long enough to look proper. Master Obi found it extremely difficult to do that on his own head, though he could braid competently enough all the braids.
Justinian moved to unbraid Petroi's left side braids and he remembered Master Obi's left braids, those given to the wearer. First had been the wife's braid with the Rampant Lioness of her father. Petroi was glad she had chosen that symbol. It was both appropriate and helped Petroi to remember who he'd originally sworn allegiance to and promised to protect Princess Ilena - his first master her father. Then she'd braided a Second's braid with the marker of the New Moon of the House. Again, as the King and Consort of the House, that made sense. Then another Second's braid and Petroi had held his tongue, having already been warned. This was of the Full Moon of the Family. It was only to be expected since Master Obi was Father. When a third Second's braid went in Petroi had raised his eyebrow slightly. She hadn't said three. The marker was of the Regent's mark again. Petroi had to ask to understand, so he raised a finger, to go with his eyebrow.
"Master Zen has required it, that we show we are his Seconds, along with Mitsuhide and Kiki. You will also not wear this one again until you are at the testing. And Justinian, don't braid the third braid again until then also." She'd looked at the manservant until he had nodded understanding, then gone back to her work, finishing it off. Stepping back, she'd looked at Master Obi in the eye, every bit the regal Princess she was and is, and given him the traditional Tarc battle blessing:
May your arm be strong, your sword swift, and your horse never stumble.
May your sight never dim, your companions never fail you, and only the blood of your enemies stain the ground.
Then she had given him his orders: Go and free me of my enemy, so that I may be yours and Master Zen's.
Master Obi's bow from his single bent knee and the kiss of fealty on the back of her hand were executed exactly and properly.
Princess Ilena had then turned to Petroi and motioned for him to kneel in his turn. He had tried to refuse. It was too personal a thing for a woman to braid a man's hair, and he was but a servant. She'd answered, "Allow it this once, Petroi," and he could not refuse, though the back of his neck turned hot and he had to work hard to calm himself enough to keep that heat from rising to his face and ears. He had to breathe deeply now, too, remembering it. Justinian's long, strong strokes through his hair with the brush helped to keep him in the present and relaxed just enough.
As Justinian began to pull up the hairs to be braided tonight, Petroi remembered them being put in that time and what they meant. First the Kir'nah. For him it was the Rampant Lioness, and he was very proud of it. He had worked hard in the house of her father to become more than a boy. Then it was the Manak'. He had no wife and he had questioned her again. She'd explained that in Clarines they would not do as the Tarc. For her Children, she would use the stages of Child, Page, Agent, Captain, and Immediate Family to determine what rank she would give the braids to. Since he was in the Immediate Family, he already would receive all of the braids. Thus the Kir'nah for Paige, the Manak' for Agent, the P'rathna to those Captains who were willing to learn the Tarc Law, and Seconds to all those in the Immediate Family. Petroi had been glad she'd decided to not follow after the Tarc traditions. Other people of other nationalities would find them extremely difficult.
Petroi's Manak' was the New Moon since he was her representative, the Messenger, in the House in Wilant City. She put in the P'rathna next, which was the symbol of the land of Tarc - a running horse before a rising or setting sun. All P'rathna wore this symbol as it represented their ability to judge the clans by the Law of All of Tarc. Justinian finished with these three braids and their markers and moved to Petroi's left side. There was no wife's braid. He had none. It confused the clans to no end that he had a Manak' but no wife's braid. She'd told him only to tell them it would be made clear at the Marluk'nak'. That had been a little easier than he'd thought, perhaps because of their superstition that this little group was made up of spirits made corporeal. So...his first and only braid on the left was his Seconds braid and its marker of the New Moon. He'd felt bad at first that Thayne would not be getting it as well, but he understood that she wanted (and needed) one Second of each to be on this progress so that she had two Seconds of each of her clans in the clan councils, and she wanted one of each with her in Henry and Marcus, who would otherwise have both been Full Moon Seconds. It was possible she would change it after this year's Marulk'nak', but he didn't know.
The one worry he had, and that he thought she shared, was the marker of the Rampant Lioness. The Lord of Tarc knew the Rampant Lioness was the mark of the previous kings of Selicia, before the coup he'd been behind. As soon as he saw that Petroi had it as his Kir'nah and Master Obi had it as his wife's braid, they might be dead. Petroi had mentioned it to Master Obi soon after they were on the road into Tarc. Master Obi had thought about it, and he now didn't wear a marker in his wife' braid. He'd decided to leave it a bare braid, signifying grief for a lost wife. Until he'd fulfilled Princess Ilena's order to him, he wouldn't wear it again. Just Petroi wearing it would make the Lord of Tarc question, and he would use it to fuel his own rumors most likely as well, but it wouldn't get them killed. Petroi felt sad, though, every time he saw the bare braid. It reminded him of his own weaknesses and grief for his mistress. It was a good thing to be reminded of in such a gentle way.
Justinian sighed, no longer having a reason to play with another person's hair, then went and sat in his place next to Master Obi's left and just behind him, then pulled out his own Kir'nah and began to brush his own hair. Petroi took the time to look at Thayne's braids. They had been well done, as typical for Justinian. Thayne's hair was actually the most suited to them, being slightly coarser and a little curlier than the rest of them, and the best natural length as well, Petroi's hair being too long. Thayne's braids were similar to Petroi's: on the right the Kir'nah of the Full Moon because he had started with Mother; the Manak' of the New Moon, Princess Ilena's nod to his service as the Lyrias Messenger of the House; and the P'rathna; on the left only the Second of the Full Moon.
Petroi's eyes went to Justinian again. He had started to set out his markers now. Petroi got up and took the Kir'nah marker from him and knelt next to him and began to brush his hair. If he was going to do everyone else's he shouldn't have to do his own, not when Petroi could do it just as well. Justinian stiffened in surprise and a bit of dismay. He really did like to do the brushing and braiding to keep his hands busy, but then he relaxed in resignation and Petroi was satisfied. Justinian needed to learn to relax in other ways than playing with hair. If submitting to the strong wills of this odd household made him relax more, then that was at least an acceptable alternative. It would also help him get used to the more strong-willed people he would be working with in the future. Princess Ilena had so far been soft on him - for her - as usual. She was kind and let people gradually get used to her full independence and willfulness that were her strengths. Even, and most particularly, Master Obi, who she'd had to bring along carefully to full strength. She still had only shown him glimpses of her full capabilities. Petroi understood it. It had taken him years to understand both her mother and her enough to be content to follow Princess Ilena without amazement.
He was glad he'd been young and easily impressionable then. Most of the rest of the castle of Selicia had never really understood the Second Princess of Clarines that the Third Prince of Selicia had brought into the family, and her just-as-willful daughter. Petroi had been surprised when they had come to the junior school of knights looking for someone trained just enough, yet also still small and young enough, to follow their daugher, both the Third Princess of Clarines and the Third Princess of Selicia at the time. They had watched all of the young boys doing their best in the list against each other, and had included before that a running race through and around obstacles. He'd managed to win the race, being agile. He was in the last four of the sword competition, too, when the little Princess had toddled onto the list and up to him, grabbing his sleeve. He'd bent down and told her where she'd come to and that it was dangerous, showing her his bruises. He walked her back to be outside the list and asked her to please stay there, but instead, she had merely continued to hold on to him.
He'd been ashamed and a bit frightened, actually, because he didn't understand, though he had tried to tell her gently what she needed to do to be safe. However, when the Prince and Princess had come to get her, they told him to come with. When they picked her up, she'd continued to reach for him over the Prince's shoulder. When they reached the castle and told him that he was now her protector, he'd rather not believed it. But when they put her down, she held on to him immediately again...and all that night. She wouldn't let go and if he tried to slip away when she fell asleep, she woke and cried. It was his first experience in how determined she was, and how she chose her people. She still did it, like she'd also done it to Master Obi and Liam, and now to Justinian. Petroi smiled with his eyes just slightly as he picked up the Kir'nah. "For all you are part of Master Obi's house, and she gave you the Sleeping Cat, you are hers. She chose you the same as she chose the rest of us."
Justinian's eyes closed and he breathed calmly while Petroi braided it in. The next braid was the Manak'. Justinian had passed to Agent before they finished the progress around Wilant to collect soldiers and men for this war, so he'd earned this braid himself. It was the Full Moon, because Justinian had asked for it, and for the reason Petroi had just given for the Kir'nah. Justinian was really Princess Ilena's in his heart, as they all were. It soothed Petroi himself to braid that one in, knowing that they were all safely hers, and his eyes closed halfway, the braid coming to his fingers by physical memory rather than by sight. Justinian also didn't carry a wife's braid to go with the Manak', so the three of them, with Master Obi's wife's braid of grief made the clans wonder sometimes if the other three refused a wife out of honor of Master Obi's grief. It worked for them.
Petroi reached for the last marker and it was picked up before his fingers could move halfway there. He looked up into Master Obi's eyes and nodded. Master Obi collected the hairs that were the same ones the Seconds markers were in for Petroi and Thayne. Justinian wasn't a Second. A different braid would be braided there for Justinian. It was the advisors braid in the place of clan status, and the marker was again the Sleeping Cat, since he was Master Obi's manservant. Technically Justinian was a bondsman - one who used weapons in the defence of his clan lord and offered words of wisdom and warning; however they were protecting him by placing him as a non-combatant. The only options for that were if he were of status slave or advisor. Master Obi was firmly set against having slaves at all and refused to put a slave's braid on Justinian, so the advisor braid it was until after the Marluk'nak' at least.
Petroi checked Master Obi's work, nodded that it was sufficient and went back to his work on his saddle, steadily working at it until it was properly finished, then put the tools away, cleaned and in their proper place. By then Justinian had Master Obi in the tent and was dressing him in the proper clothing Princess Ilena had sent for when he was in the tents of the clans. Petroi washed his hands and joined them, pulling on his dinner clothing that Justinian had set out on his bed for him. Justinian did all their clothing for them as a matter of habit. He had come from the clothing department of the castle and when it was anything other than casual, and sometimes even then, he pulled out the clothing for all of them and set it out for them, just as Petroi had his things he did for everyone because it had always been his to do.
Like watch without seeming to the hands of everyone around them. That was how to tell if a sword was going to come out, or a poisoned needle, or a friendly handshake. It also let him know the personality of a person. A lazy hand of the insolent idle. A nervous hand of the untrustworthy. A hand that clenched was someone who had evil thoughts against them, or who was particularly passionate and bore careful watching. Petroi didn't need to watch Master Obi's hands often, though he enjoyed it. They were quick hands with no hidden fears or lies in them. Often they were honest hands. If they wanted to touch something, they did, but that let him know how much proper restraint Master Obi had or if he needed help in regaining it. The more he touched someone or something else, the more external help he needed. Also when they clenched. They clenched in order to restrain himself from his passionate anger. Then he also needed help with external restraint.
Tonight, Master Obi's hands were mostly calm, though his fingers were dancing. He watched them until Master Obi reached into his little pouch. Petroi watched to see which statuette came out. It was the falcon Peter had made. Petroi relaxed. Master Obi was thinking of Princess Ilena also, but not to the point of needing help. If he had reached that point it would have been the statuette of Robert's that felt real and was the rampant lioness with her paw on three stacked rosettes. Once pulled out, Obi couldn't put it away until he was almost asleep, and then only for fear he would lose it while sleeping. Master Obi had kindly gifted Petroi and Thayne with the same statuette from Robert just before leaving the garrison, and giving Princess Ilena hers as their reminders of each other and their promises to each other. Petroi appreciated the gesture, but he knew his only restraint was in never getting it out. Like Master Obi, once it was in his hands he would never be able to let it go. It was a trait of the Selician's, that they were tactile people. Perhaps Justinian had some Selician blood in him like Master Obi did.
"Thayne, come get dressed," Petroi called, seeing his clothes still laid out.
"Come guard the tent, then," Thayne said calmly.
Petroi walked out and looked at Thayne. "Is it that?"
Thayne nodded. Petroi sighed. "How many?"
"Three now and I just heard another being told to go get ready."
Petroi grimaced and nodded. Thayne went inside and Petroi listened closely. When he heard the bare feet coming through the grass, he walked around the tent as if just waiting around. "Oh, pardon me," he said politely. The woman in front of him jolted to a halt and stared at him with wide eyes. "I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place. No one is here that can touch you. Please return to your tent." He stared at her, unmoving, until she finally had to give up and turn around. He stayed there looking after her. She paused and looked back. He hadn't moved nor changed expression. She finally turned away and walked again. Once more she looked back and he hadn't moved. Her shoulders drooped and she walked off quietly. Petroi sighed and stayed put, listening.
For some reason the clan lords who liked them kept sending them women to see if they would take them. If they were to do so, they already knew the tradition meant they had to stay with the clan until the woman died or some other major thing happened. They could have stolen her away, but that was even more inconvenient, really, since then the clan had the right to chase them for up to a year. Princess Ilena had already threatened them several times with death if they ever accepted a woman in any way from any clan. They all knew that if they wanted one, she would find the right one for them herself. Well, Justinian didn't know that yet, but he was still infatuated with her so wouldn't have heard it anyway.
Petroi walked back to the front of the tent. "Dinner will be ready shortly. I don't think they'll send any more before then," he said normally, knowing they all heard him.
"Tell Ilena we're staying the night before we go," Master Obi ordered him. "We'll likely be contacting her late again tonight. I think this one wants to play the full entertainment and betting game after dinner, and I'd like to hear more of his stories. I think he's one who will give away many things when he is in his cups."
"Very well," Petroi answered and sang, but in the whisper so that it was louder than the normal whisper but much quieter than the long-distance song. Petroi to Mistress Ilena. We are staying at the tents of the Cloud Clan tonight to learn many things. Our meeting with you will be late tonight. Please bear it with patience. The council meeting was productive.
By the time they were all outside the tent and waiting, the sun was beginning to set and the winds were changing from being sun-warmed to being the cool wind heralding winter. Upon that wind came back, Thank you for telling me. I'll keep busy until I hear from you. Good hunting, and good luck. No women!
They all rolled their eyes. They knew that. If the clan lord was sending women to their tent - a thing almost never done to let them walk anywhere near strangers - then there would be women bet during the entertainment tonight as well. Master Obi was a master at winning the bets, or at wiggling out of having to participate at all. All three Second's had lots of practice from being nightwalkers after all, and they protected Justinian while he protected them from poison and hands he saw that they couldn't. Without comment they turned and walked towards the dining tent, Master Obi in front, Justinian slightly behind him on his left, Petroi further on the left and Thayne on the right - the guards behind the two who were to be protected.