“Time to awaken, small warrior,” a voice murmured in my ear. I knew immediately who it was, and couldn’t help smiling.
“About time you got back,” I mumbled, putting my arms around his neck. “What took so long?”
“The preparations were many,” He chuckled, putting his hands somewhere other than near my neck. “All is now complete, and we must be on our way. The Ratanan comes whether we attend or no.”
“The Ratanan?” I said, trying to sit up straight. “Are we leaving today?”
“If ever you arise,” he said, moving back to look at me. “Was my word obeyed during the last sun?”
“For the most part.” I hedged. “I didn’t know we were leaving today. You could have told me.”
“There was no need for you to be told,” he answered, watching as I got into the imad and caldin. “Had you obeyed my word, you would have been properly prepared. Come you now for something to eat. We leave as soon as we are done.”
He straightened from his crouch and led the way to the kitchen, where a sleepy-looking Gilor was waiting with a bowl of thick whatever for me and a chunk of spiced meat for him. I ate the whatever without comment, but much of its flavor disappeared in the face of the meat. The good part about the upcoming trip was that I, too, would soon have meat for breakfast. Thick whatever is not enough to face the day on.
We went out the front of the house to find a double line of fifty l’lendaa already mounted and waiting for us in the just-dawn chirping. There were a good number of pack-seetarr on leather leads, and quite a few of the l’lendaa had women mounted behind them. Tammad’s big male was saddled and ready, and Tammad walked up to him.
“A moment.” I said quietly, putting my hand on his arm. “I do not see my seetar here.”
“Nor shall you,” he answered, checking the saddle straps. “That one is too easily enraged to be taken along.” He turned, lifted me by the waist, and set me down on the saddle fur. “Your place is there, and there you shall stay”
He was up into the saddle before I could even begin to argue, and then we were off down the road. I was so annoyed, I just held onto his swordbelt with my fingers as the rest of the party moved off with us, but after a few minutes I put my arms around his waist and leaned against him. His pleasure was so apparent that it made me glad my seetar wasn’t there.
We stopped for lunch by the side of the road, and the dimral was passed around. Dimral isn’t as good as the spiced meat Gilor makes, but it stands up to spoilage better, and is almost always used when traveling. Some of the l’lendaa came over to eat with Tammad, and there was a lot of good-natured joking around. When the food had been finished and everyone started back to his own seetar one of the men paused near Tammad.
“My wenda feels certain that the night shall produce the desired results, denday,” he grinned, slapping Tammad on the shoulder. “Again I must thank you for honoring me.”
Tammad grinned back and turned to lift me to the saddle fur, not missing the narrow-eyed look I gave him. His grin broadened as he climbed into the saddle, but when I muttered, “Preparations, huh?” he laughed out loud. He continued to laugh when I resolutely put my fingers back in his swordbelt, and stubbornly refused to stop until I held him around the waist again.
I’d expected us to camp in the woods that night, but sundown came close and there was no sign of our stopping. Just at dark the column paused, and one of the l’lendaa rode up to us to hand Tammad a bundle of material. Tammad took it and turned off into the woods, leaving the rest of the column on the road.
“You shall wear this imad and caldin,” he said, handing me the bundle when we were out of sight of the column. “The Ratanan ground is not far ahead of us, and I wish you to have the status of rella wenda. Thus shall you be able to enter the dendarsa camtah with me.”
I nodded and let him slide me to the ground, then started changing clothes. The imad and caldin were brand new, of a soft, rich-feeling material, and I knew the colors would be bright and compelling. Rella wendaa were not for breeding but for showing off, and only some of the most prominent leaders had them. If being a rella wenda would gain me entrance to the denday’s tent, then I would be a rella wenda. It was better than sneaking up on the outside of the dendarsa camtah.
I found a pair of buskins in the center of the bundle, and put those on, too. It seemed so long since the last time I’d worn shoes of any sort that the buskins felt strange to my feet. I rolled up the old imad and caldin, and handed them up to Tammad.
“Before we continue on, I have one question.” I said as he swung me up behind him. “You have a habit of telling me nothing I don’t need to know on the spot, so let me be as general as possible. Is there anything that I’ll need to know once we reach the Ratanan grounds? Having surprises sprung on me doesn’t make for good working conditions.”
“There is nothing that comes to mind,” he said, thinking about it carefully. “Should you find something you do not understand, ask me and I shall explain. I do not wish you to be at a disadvantage.”
“Fair enough.” I agreed, and we headed back toward the column. When we reached it, we all continued up the road, and in less than an hour came to the Ratanan ground.
The area was to the left of the road in a broad, clear field that stretched for miles. Hundreds of camtahh were pitched in the field in groups, and in the midst of each large group was an oversized camtah, more a pavilion than anything else. It was too dark to count the exact number of pavilions, but there should have been twenty-four, one for each of the other twenty-four towns represented. Tammad and his people made the twenty-fifth, but the Ratanan would have begun on time even if some of the twenty-five hadn’t been there.
The separate groups were dotted with campfires, which made it easier to see where we were going. We made our way between two of the groups, the l’lendaa of each group coming out to greet Tammad as we passed, then reached a wide, empty space. Most of our l’lendaa began choosing places to dismount, but five of them, all without wendaa, stayed near Tammad as he changed direction slightly for a pavilion that was even larger than the others, and also stood alone. There were l’lendaa standing near it, and we stopped among them.
“Aldana, Tammad, aldana!” many of them called with broad grins, then came closer as I was swung to the ground. “You are a welcome sight, as is your wenda. There are few about to equal her.”
“Aye, Hannas.” Tammad laughed as he dismounted. “She is comely to a small degree. Is Rommar as yet in attendance?”
“He sits within,” the one called Hannas answered with his own laugh. “Besides him, one may also see his rella wenda. Garrad will be pleased at your arrival.”
All the l’lendaa within hearing laughed aloud at that, which made me curious. There was some amusement they were sharing, and I wondered what it could be.
Tammad removed his swordbelt, handed it, along with the extra dagger, to one of his l’lendaa, then went toward the pavilion entrance. I followed behind, feeling the itch of what I usually called a hunch. It was more a matter of receiving definite signals, and worked a good deal more accurately when I was awakened. I had the feeling that my presence there had been well planned for, and would not arouse undue curiosity where it shouldn’t be aroused. It would be interesting to see if I was right.
Tammad pushed the entrance hanging aside, and the light from the interior spilled out into the night. He opened it only wide enough to let himself step through, then stood there for a moment, to let his eyes adjust, I thought. There were greetings called to him from within the pavilion, and I stopped just behind him, feeling the patterns of many men, but not able to see them. Then he stepped suddenly aside and I was framed in the opening, almost two dozen pairs of eyes staring directly at me.