Darven called for ale and several of the women, including his two favourites went to fetch it while Menish introduced his company.
“Master Hrangil and Althak you know, of course. But you've not met my nephew, Drinagish, for he was too young to fight in those days. Two others, Azkun and Tenari, you've also not met before. We found them on our journey and they accompany us to Atonir.”
Darven looked closely at Azkun and Menish feared that he would see the likeness of Thalissa in him. But he only said, “your friend has no boots but fine clothes, where did you find him?”
“Wandering naked in the desert. We brought him with us out of compassion. The clothes are Althak’s.”
“But of course you had no spare boots!” Darven laughed. “That will be my pleasure to remedy.” He reverted to Vorthenki speech suddenly as he called to the old man. “Arith, find our friend some boots. New ones, mind.”
“New boots? New boots? What does he want with new boots?” grumbled Arith as he hobbled outside on his errand. Menish wondered again who he was that he could ignore the orders of a priestess, was addressed relatively politely by Darven, and had the audacity to grumble. He looked back at Darven and raised his eyebrows.
“Ah, you’ll be surprised to learn this, M’Lord. Surprised and pleased I think. But wait, here's the ale.”
Six women, each carrying a horn of ale, approached and presented one to each of the men. It was an echo of what had happened in Astae’s inn but they all knew it was just about ale, nothing more was implied. The women sat at the feet of the guest they had assigned themselves to. At Darven’s direction the young favourite sat at Menish’s feet. The older one, Seti, sat at his own. One of the other women was obviously pregnant. She had assigned herself to Azkun but seemed put out by Tenari's presence. Tenari stationed herself by Azkun's feet beside her.
Drinagish and Hrangil took their horns as if they were presented by vipers, Hrangil looked quite pale in the firelight. Althak, of course, was at ease here. He gave his woman a wink and a slap on the bottom as he took his horn and she sat down.
As for Menish himself, he took his horn with simple thanks, which seemed to discomfort the girl, as if he had scorned her beauty by not reacting more like Althak had. But, even if he had been Vorthenki and therefore relaxed about such matters, she was young enough to be his grand daughter.
He wished his host health, echoed by Drinagish, Hrangil and Althak, and drank.
Having joined them in drinking his own health, Darven resumed what he was saying.
“Old Arith, aye. You’ll like this M’Lord. I learned much in your service, including the way you value good men. After the war against Thealum I came north. I had some thought of sailing to the land of my fathers, perhaps even as far as Athim. Even now I’d like to see the glory of Kopth that fills the sky in the far north. But I stopped here. They tell me that the Vorthenki came here years and years ago and drove out some simple fisher folk who rode tiny coracles and had not even a bronze knife. When I arrived there were a few houses like this one but they were in poor repair. Pirate raids were frequent and the people usually fled into the forest while their houses were destroyed.
“I resolved to stay here, to establish a house of my own, for they were in need of a strong leader. You know, of course, the way this is done, but I could see that Arith was a wise man. He knows the seas here, the people and the forest. If I’d killed him to make myself chief my way would have been harder.”
“You let the old chief live?” asked Althak. ‘But surely you fought?”
“Oh, of course. He didn’t hand over his houses and slaves as gifts. We fought, but I've been trained in the Emperor’s army. You, Althak, know only too well that the Vorthenki has little skill for all his strength. I was the younger and my skill was greater. Although he fought to kill and I only to disable I bested him in a moment. He lay before me on the ground expecting death but I spared him.”
“And he's loyal?”
“I think so. As much as any. He is, at least, grateful. For I built the palisades you saw. No longer do we hide in the forest while our homes burn. Our folk are proud to fight to defend what's theirs. We have many strong young men, sons of my own house, and some of these I've trained in the ways of Relanor. Not all.” He grinned. “Some I would rather were not so skilled with a sword.”
Arith returned with a pair of fine boots.
“Boots, boots. Strangers given good boots. What are we coming to?” Arith muttered under his breath as he knelt by Azkun’s feet, elbowing his way between the pregnant woman and Tenari. He thrust Azkun’s feet into them and looked at him. “Do they fit?” he snapped.
“What did he say?” asked Azkun, for he did not understand Vorthenki.
“He asks if they fit,” said Althak.
“Toes wiggle?” again the man snapped. Althak translated again and Azkun nodded and thanked Arith, Darven and even the woman who served him. But Arith was not satisfied.
“Up, up, walk about. Can’t tell if they fit until you walk.”
So Azkun rose to his feet and walked up and down the room.
“Yes, they do fit. They really do,” he said. Menish noticed he spoke slowly and clearly to Arith, but obviously the man spoke no Relanese at all. Arith was not quite satisfied and proceeded to feel where Azkun’s toes were in the boots, and to shift them about on his feet to see if they were tight enough. At last, with a dubious scowl, he hobbled over to the fire to see if Malak was tending the stew as he had been ordered.
“He makes them himself,” said Darven, “and he can size you at a glance too. Though he never trusts himself there. Your friend’s boots will be the best he has ever owned.”
No doubt, thought Menish.
“And does he make enough of them to trade?”
“Oh yes, indeed. He's famous up and down this coast. Keashil was wearing a pair of Arith’s boots when I last saw her, though they're gone now. I'll make sure she gets another pair. You can always spot them by the dragon design.”
“That, I think, is half the delight at least,” said Menish looking at Azkun. He seemed genuinely pleased with the boots. Several times he traced his finger across the design and he had taken another, voluntary, walk in them.
Presently Keashil and the priestess, Frethi, returned and sat by the fire with them. Menish noted that Keashil, like Frethi, was seated on a stool rather than on the floor. It appeared she had the status of a priestess here. He wondered what had happened to Olcish but a glance around the room revealed that one of the Vorthenki women had left her tasks to look after him. He had been fed some of the stew from the cauldron and was playing warily with some of the other children. He was seemed pleased to be away from adults for a while, especially with his mother in safe hands.
Darven offered them some of the stew. Hrangil and Azkun declined but the others helped themselves, ladling it into bowls and drinking it. Menish was hungry enough to enjoy even this.
With their immediate needs of food and drink met, Menish and Darven began to talk of old times and common friends. The war with Thealum had ended nearly fifteen years ago and there was much to catch up on. Darven was interested that Vorish had married Sonalish, Drinagish’s elder sister, for he had seen her once.
Menish also asked about the other ship in the bay. It was a trading ship like those that often called. The captain and several of his men were staying in one of the other houses but most of the crew, like their own, were sleeping on board.
They talked for hours and they were only interrupted by the beginning of the feast.
After a commotion at the door two men carrying a roasted sheep on a spit entered. The smell of cooked meat permeated the house, drowning the other smells. When the Vorthenki feasted they always cooked their meat outside and carried it indoors when it was ready. Menish noticed Azkun pale at the sight of the dead beast but he kept silent as the two carriers struggled to hang it from another pair of hooks near the one that held the cauldron.