Part 35 (2/2)

”Are.”

”Am not.”

They had argued until Da finally chased Ke out into the pasture.

Atra turned to Talen again. ”So what brings you to our vale?”

Nothing bespoke confidence more than the eyes. Talen wasn't going to be the shy little boy staring at girl's noses, so he looked her right in the eye. And promptly forgot what he was going to say. All that came into his mind was Nettle's line about breeding. The silence stretched on a bit too long.

”The sun burns brightly,” he finally said. ”And so does your face.” He cringed inside. What kind of an idiot statement was that?

Nettle laughed and tried to cover it with a cough.

Atra looked at him quizzically, then gave him that chagrined half smile again. Something was off. When he'd last seen her, they'd spoken and it seemed the stars and moon and torchlight had danced in her eyes. All that was gone.

”You're wet,” she said.

”It's quite hot out,” he said, ”isn't it?”

”Not too bad,” she said.

Talen waited for her to go on, but his question was clearly not one of River's helpful types.

”Right,” he said. ”Well, it's been a dusty road. My Da was summoned to the Council. We're on our way back.”

”I'm surprised you two dare to travel alone,” she said. ”We heard about the creature coming for that woman. To think she's loose again to work her depravities. My Da hopes the Skir Master mounts a hunt the likes of which has never been seen. When he catches her, Da will volunteer to fetch the crows that will pick her head to a nub.”

”Oh?” said Talen.

”Yes, he's been quite affected by this whole thing. Did you know those people?”

He thought about the two hatchlings back at the house. ”What do I know?” he said. ”Nothing. Except that this woman should be brought to justice. Tell me what you've heard.”

Atra began to talk, repeating many of the same rumors Talen had heard today. He nodded and added a comment here or there, but mostly he just let her talk.

She was definitely an irrigation ditch.

Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe ”tell me” was one of those helpful questions. Thank the Creators he'd stumbled on it.

He began to hope that he'd mistaken the s.h.i.+ft in the feeling between them and that her talking would restore the ease they'd shared the time before.

As she talked Talen looked at her eyes. He concentrated on them. He noticed that they were not all of one color. There was a darker ring of brown inside a lighter one. Talen wondered if that's what perhaps made them so beautiful. But he decided against it. It was more their size and the loveliness of her brow.

Then Talen realized she had just said something and he had no idea what it was.

”I'm sorry,” he said. ”I fear the new baker puts more than flour and honey in his small cakes. What did you say?” Da was right. She'd gone from sleth to something else and he'd missed the whole journey looking into her eyes.

She shook her head. ”I said that it seems Koramites are out of favor.” Her mouth was drawn in a line of disappointment. Had she just told him he was unwelcome? His heart began to sink.

”Well, not all Koramites I hope.”

She did not reply immediately, and Talen's heart began to sink. ”You can't judge a whole people by the actions of a few.”

”No,” she said. ”But some people do.”

Then she changed the subject. ”Would you like to see my new saddle?”

”I'll gladly view anything you want to show me.”

She looked at him a bit shocked.

”Anything having to do with saddles,” he quickly corrected.

The delight he'd enjoyed before flashed across her face, but then faded. Talen needed another helpful question. He couldn't quite believe, didn't want to believe she'd said what she had about Koramites. Maybe she didn't lump him in that group because he was going to be part of the Shoka.

”Tell me about your saddle.”

Atra turned to Nettle. ”Does the loafing Captain want to see a saddle?”

”Naw,” he said. ”One saddle is pretty much like the other.”

”Your loss,” she said and turned to Talen. ”This way.” And she walked into the stable.

”Fish monger,” Nettle mouthed.

Talen rolled his eyes and followed Atra to the back of the stable. It wasn't proper for a boy and girl of courting age to be alone, but Talen decided they weren't really alone: they were just going to look at a saddle. Nor were they courting. Besides, Nettle was in the yard. They would come right back out.

She laid her hand on one of the finest saddles he had ever seen. The leather had been dyed black. It was beaded and ta.s.selled and had silver trim worked around the edges. The many ta.s.sels of green and scarlet all ended in a bead of silver as well. The horse blanket was indigo blue. Her horse was black and well-muscled. Such a saddle on that creature would look magnificent! Talen felt the smooth surface. ”It's perfect,” he said.

Atra told him about the quality of the silver, which required frequent polis.h.i.+ng, and showed him the fine st.i.tching of the leather work. He wondered if he would ever be able to afford such a saddle. He might. But a saddle wouldn't be enough. That was the way of the fine things. You couldn't just purchase one. You had to purchase sets and pairs. A fine blanket to go with a fine bridle to go with a fine saddle for a fine horse. Fine horse combs. Fine servants to take care of the fine horse. He could work all his life to have the wealth contained in only the gla.s.s master's stable.

Better to be plain than servant to such a master.

”You're a graceful rider, Atra. You'll look stunning at the races.”

She smiled. ”You won a number of contests at the dance.”

Talen had won nothing. There hadn't been any contests. ”I don't remember receiving any prize.”

”It wasn't a public contest. Just among us girls.”

What was she talking about?

”We rated you all during the King's March.”

There were a few dances just for the men. He loved the King's March more than any of the others.

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