Nafai and Volemak emerged from the tent. Volemak's air of puzzlement was gone. He was firmly in command now; he embraced his son, pointed toward the southeast, and said, "You'll find game there, Nafai. Come back soon enough and I'll allow the meat to be cooked. Let the Dorovyets wonder why there's a new column of smoke coming from across the bay! By the time they can come and investigate, we'll be on our way south again."
Luet knew that many heard those confident words with more despair than hope—but their longing for the city was a weakness in them, nothing to be proud of, not a desire to be indulged. Vas's sabotage might have turned them back, but that would have made all their lives meaningless, at least compared to what they were going to accomplish when Nafai succeeded.
If he succeeded.
Elemak spoke to Nafai then. "Are you a good shot with that thing?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Nafai. "I haven't tried it yet. It was too dark last night. I do know this— I can't shoot far. I don't have strong enough muscles in the right places yet, for drawing a bow." He grinned. "I'm going to have to find some animal that's very stupid, very slow, or deaf, blind, and upwind of me."
No one laughed. Instead they all stood and watched him stride away, heading unwaveringly in the exact direction his father had pointed.
From then on it was a tense morning in the camp. Not the tension of quarrels barely contained—they had experienced that often enough—but the tension of waiting. For there was nothing to do but care for the babies and wonder whether Nafai would, against all probability, bring back meat with his bow and arrows.
The only exception to the general air of glum nervousness was Shedemei and Zdorab. Not that they were happy, really—they were as quiet as ever, going about their business. But Luet could not help but notice that they seemed more—what, aware of each other today. They kept looking at each other, with some barely contained secret.
It didn't dawn on Luet until late in the morning, when Shedemei was holding naked Chveya while Luet washed the second gown and diaper that her daughter had managed to soil that morning. Shedemei wouldn't stop giggling right along with Chveya while they played, and as Luet wondered about Shedemei's unaccustomed lightness of spirit, she realized: Shedemei must be pregnant. At long last, after everyone had concluded that she was sterile, Shedya was going to have a baby.
And, being Luet, she did not hesitate to ask the question outright—after all, they were alone, and no woman kept a secret from the waterseer, if she wanted to know it.
"No," said Shedemei, startled. "I mean—I might be, but how could I know so soon?"
It was only then that it occurred to Luet for the first time: Shedemei had not been pregnant till now because she and Zdorab had never coupled. They must have married for convenience, so they could share a tent. They had been friends all this time, and they were so aware of each other, Shedemei was so happy today because last night they must have made their marriage real for the first time.
"Congratulations anyway," said Luet.
Shedemei blushed and looked down at the baby, tickling her a little.
"And maybe it will be soon. Some women conceive immediately. I did, I think."
"Don't tell anyone else," said Shedemei.
"Hushidh will know that something has changed," said Luet.
"Her then, but no one else."
"I promise," said Luet.
But there was something in Shedemei's smile then that told her that while she knew part of the secret, perhaps, there was more that was yet untold. Never mind, Luet said silently. I'm not one of those who has to know everything. What goes on between you and Zdorab is none of my affair, except as you make it plain to me. But whatever happened, I know this: It has made you happier today. More hopeful than I've seen you in this whole journey.
Or perhaps it is I who am more hopeful than ever before, because we weathered such a terrible crisis this morning. And, best of all, because Elemak was on the side of the Oversoul.
So what if Vas is a sneak and a murderer in his heart? So what if Obring and Sevet would leave their babies? If Elemak was no longer the enemy of the Oversoul, then all would be well indeed.
Nafai came home before noon. No one saw him coming because no one was looking for him so early. Suddenly he was there at the edge of the tents.
"Zdorab!" he called.
Zdorab emerged from Volemak's tent, where he and Issib had been working with the Index together. "Nafai," he said. "I guess this means you're back."
Nafai held out the skinless carcass of a hare in one hand and an equally naked and bloody yozh in the other. "Neither one's very much by itself, I suppose, but since Father said we could make stew if I got back early enough, I say start up a fire, Zodya! We have fat-riddled animal protein to put in our bellies tonight!"
Not everyone was overjoyed to know that the expedition would go on—but they were all glad of the cooked meat, the spicy stew, and the end of the uncertainty. Volemak was positively jovial as he presided over the meal that night. Luet wondered at that—wouldn't it have been easier for him, now, to let the mantle of authority slip away, to pass it to one of his sons? But no. Heavy as the burden of authority might be, it was far lighter than the unbearable weight of losing it.
She noticed as they sat and ate together that Nafai stank from his exertions of the day. It wasn't exactly an unfamiliar odor—no one could maintain Basilican standards of hygiene here—but it was unpleasant. "You smell," she whispered to him, while the others listened to Mebbekew chanting out a bawdy old poem he had learned in his theatrical days.
"I admit it, I need a bath," said Nafai.
"I'll give you one tonight," said Luet.
"I was hoping you'd say that," he answered. "I see you give them to Veya and I get so jealous."
"You were magnificent today," she said.
"Just a little whittling while the Oversoul pumped knowledge into my head. And then killing animals too stupid to run away."
"Yes, all of that—magnificent. And more. What you did with your father."
"It was the right way to do it," he said. "Nothing more than that. Not like what you did. In fact, it's you that deserves to be pampered and babied tonight."
"I know it," she said. "But I have to bathe you first. It's no fun being babied by someone who smells so bad it makes you choke."
In answer, he embraced her, burying her nose in his armpit. She tickled him to break free.
Rasa, looking across the fire at them, thought: Such children. So young, so playful. I'm so glad that they can still be that way. Someday, when real adult responsibilities settle on them, they'll lose that. It will be replaced by a slower, quieter kind of play. But for now, they can cast away care and remember how good it is to be alive. In the desert or the city, in a house or a tent, that's what happiness means, isn't it?
EIGHT—PLENTY
The next morning they loaded the camels and moved southeast. No one said anything about it, but everyone understood that they were moving to put some distance between them and Dorova Bay. It was still no easy task finding a way through the Valley of Fires, and several times they had to backtrack, though now Elemak usually rode ahead, often with Vas, in order to scout a path that led somewhere useful. Volemak would tell him in the morning what the Index advised, and Elemak would then mark a trail that led to the easiest ascents and descents from plateau to plateau.