“You can tell them,” said Mün reluctantly. “I did ask you to help pick it, so I guess it’s all right.”
Luan coughed and slowly said, “The word is indeed Adüan. It refers to the thick and strong hair on the snout of the wild boar, a prized source of meat among the people of Tan Adü and a symbol of great strength.”
Everyone digested this information, thinking of an appropriate comment of admiration.
“Wait, you named your son ‘pig bristles’?” said an incredulous Rin. Then he whooped and laughed.
“I’m proud of my old profession!” said an irked Mün. “I want to be sure my son remembers his roots. Naro said it was okay, so I don’t care what the rest of you think!” Naro patted him on his towel-covered buttocks for support.
A draft blew through the room and made the lamps and candles flicker. Mün shivered. Naro took off his robe and draped it around Mün like a cape. “I don’t want you to catch a chill.” Mün wrapped an arm around Naro’s waist in response. His face relaxed.
“Look at you two,” teased Puma Yemu. “Still acting like newlyweds!”
“Why don’t you do stuff like that more often for me?” said Than Carucono, looking at Lady Péingo.
“I’d be happy to lend you one of my dresses if you’re cold,” said Lady Péingo. “Do you prefer the one with the pearl clasp or the one with the scarlet peonies? They both might be a bit tight on you, but I’m not judging. They could certainly emphasize the curves around that beer gut in a pleasing manner.”
Than looked at Mün and Naro with a mock-wounded expression. “See, this is what I get at home. All day.”
“Only when you behave,” said Lady Péingo. Than and she looked at each other, grinning, their eyes glowing as softly as the moon outside.
“Naro and Mün certainly know the secret of long-lasting romance,” said a smiling Cogo Yelu. “You would compare favorably to Idi and Moth of old. ‘Weary wakeful weakness!’ as the poets would say.”
Everyone stopped drinking and there was an awkward silence. Cogo looked around. “What?”
“Why do you insult an old friend by calling him weak?” asked Théca Kimo, Duke of Arulugi, who had been quiet until now.
“I said nothing of the kind!” said a confused Cogo.
Luan broke in, “I believe Cogo was alluding to an old story. Centuries ago, King Idi of Amu was so enamored of his lover, a man by the name of Mothota, that when Mothota fell asleep in his arms and the king had to go to court, Idi ordered his courtiers to carry the bed with him and Mothota in it to the audience hall so as to avoid waking up his lover. The poets of Amu used the phrase ‘wakeful weakness’ as a kenning for romantic love.”
“What’s a kenning?” asked Mün.
“It’s a poetic… Cogo just meant to pay a compliment to your affections for each other, that is all.”
Mün looked pleased, and Théca, embarrassed, apologized to Cogo.
But Gin Mazoti, Marshal of Dara, now spoke up. “Have you spent so much time in the College of Advocates and the Grand Examination Hall that you’ve forgotten how to talk to your old comrades, Cogo?”
Luan was surprised at the harshness in Gin’s tone, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“That’s quite a question, Gin,” said Cogo.
But the rather cold expressions of the generals made it clear that Gin was saying something they all thought.
“We know swords and horses,” Gin said. “But even if you put Mün and Puma and Than and Théca and me all together, you wouldn’t find more than half a book in our heads.” Though Gin’s tone was self-deprecating, there was definitely an edge to it. “So we’d appreciate it if you stick to drinking tea instead of spewing ink every chance you get.”
“I sincerely apologize, Gin,” said a humble Cogo. “I have, as you say, been spending too much time with the bookish and arrogant and not nearly enough time with old friends.”
Gin nodded and said no more.
Luan tried to relieve the suddenly chill atmosphere in the room. “How about a game, everyone?”
“What do you want to play?” asked Mün.
“How about… Fool’s Mirror?” This was a game in which participants took turns to compare themselves to specimens of a category—plants, animals, minerals, furniture, farm implements—and drank depending on whether the other participants judged the comparison apt.
Mün, Than, and Rin looked at each other and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” asked Naro. Lady Péingo looked equally puzzled.
“Years ago, it was at a game of Fool’s Mirror that the duke—er, the emperor—agreed to introduce me to you,” said Mün to Naro.
“I’ve always wondered how you managed to get up the courage to get your boss to come to me! I see you had to get drunk first.”
“I wasn’t drunk! I was only… wakefully weak.”
Naro laughed and gave Mün a peck on the cheek. The others in the dining hall chortled and guffawed.
“I think you need to stick to swords and horses,” said Than. “You were not meant for poetry. Shall we use flowers and plants as the theme again and see how everyone has changed?”
Everyone assented.
“I’ll start,” said Mün. “I was once the prickly cactus, but now I think I’m a thorned pear.” He looked lovingly at the baby in Naro’s arms. “A child changes you, fills you with sweetness and light from the inside. It was a good thing the emperor recruited me before I was a father, or I would never have agreed to become a rebel.”
The guests picked up their cups, ready to drink.
“No, no, no,” said Than. “I cannot agree to this comparison unless you’re an overripe pear—so sweet that it’s sickening.”
Mün glared at Than while others chuckled, but Naro came to his rescue. “I’ll go next. I’m the morning glory whose vine has found the support of my one and true sturdy oak.” He tightened his arm around Mün. “Sweet words are easy, but it isn’t easy to find a love that lasts beyond the first blush of infatuation, and I know I’m lucky.”
Mün turned to him and his face softened. “As am I.”
Everyone drank without saying another word. Than Carucono drew Lady Péingo to him, and she sat blushing in his lap. Luan and Gin locked gazes for a moment, and Luan felt his face grow warm. But Gin’s calm face was unreadable.
“It will be hard to follow up our loving hosts,” said Puma Yemu. “But I’ll try. I wasn’t at that game years ago, but I’ve served the emperor for just about as long as the rest of you. I am the jumping bean of the Sonaru Desert. I may look no different from ordinary bushes in the wild, but when grazing animals come near, a thousand beans snap into action and make a noise that would frighten away an elephant!”
“I don’t know about frightening away an elephant,” teased Than Carucono. “But you certainly swear loudly enough when we play drinking games that the dogs in the city bark all night.”
“That’s because you cheat—” growled Puma Yemu.
“I think it’s a lovely comparison,” interrupted Lady Péingo. “I don’t know much about war, but it paints such a vivid picture.”
“It’s very apt,” said Gin. “Your surprise raiding tactics should be taught to every soldier of Dara.”
There was no more commentary. Everyone drank.
Luan sipped his tea happily, but he was struck by the oddness of the moment. Given that Mün and Naro were the hosts, ordinarily they should have been the ones to give the definitive opinion of a participant’s comparison. However, since Naro wasn’t an official and Mün wasn’t good at making speeches, it naturally fell to Cogo and Gin, the two highest-ranking officials present, to play the role of substitute opinion makers. Yet Gin had apparently assumed she would be the one in charge without even consulting Cogo.