Then Iraj said, Did you know my star sign was the same as Alisarrian's?"
Safar shook his head, although it suddenly came to him that he'd known all along. He tried to make a joke of it, saying, Does that mean you have sudden urges to go a conquering?"
Iraj didn't laugh. His eyes glittered as if the remark had struck an unintended target.
"I'm sorry if I offended you, Safar said. It was a silly thing to say."
Iraj nodded. After a moment he asked, Don't you sometimes imagine you have a destiny to fulfill?"
"Only as a potter, Safar said.
Iraj pierced him with his gaze. Is that what you truly think, Safar?"
"What else would I be? I'm a Timura. Timuras make pots."
Iraj shrugged as if to say, claim what you like but I know better. Then he said, I told you I dreamed of a fellow named Safar, did I not?"
"When we first met, Safar answered.
"I was surprised you never asked me more about it. Most people would."
Safar didn't reply, remembering the vision of the king on the white elephant.
Iraj stared at him for a long moment. If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to reveal it?"
Safar promised, relieved that the conversation seemed to have taken a less dangerous turn.
"If you break the vow, Iraj warned, I will most certainly be killed."
Safar was taken aback. At that point in his young life he'd never encountered a secret with such a penalty attached.
"It's the reason I'm living here with you, Iraj continued. My father, you see, was lord of our tribe and I was to succeed him."
"Did your father die recently? Safar guessed.
"He caught a fever a little more than year ago, Iraj said. It took six months for it to suck out his life. During that time my family quarreled and became dividedwith some favoring me as a successor, while others backed my uncle, Fulain. When my father died the break became permanent."
Iraj went on to explain that at first the tide was in his favor because more family members supported him. One of his cousinsa much respected older man who was rich in land and horseswas to be appointed regent until Iraj came of age and could take up the ruler's staff.
"But Fulain made a bargain with my father's most hated enemy, Iraj said. An evil man named Koralia Kan who slew my grandfather when my father was a boy. And my father revenged the family by killing Kan's first born. So there is much spilled blood between us."
Iraj said one dark night Fulain gave Kan and his horse soldiers free passage through his land, joining him in a series of surprise attacks. Many died, including the cousin who would have been regent. When Fulain had the rest of the family under his heel he demanded Iraj's head so there would be no one to dispute his claim as clan lord.
"My mother begged one of my unclesher sister's husbandto help, Iraj said. I was forced to flee my own home and hide out with his peoplethe Babor clan. But there were so many spies about it wasn't safe to remain long. My uncle was ashamed to send me away. But he has his own wives and children to look after so he sent me here to hide from Fulain and Kan."
To Safar the tale had the ring of legend about it. He felt like a child listening to his father tell stories of old days and wild ways.
"Will you never be able to return? he asked.
Iraj jammed a stick into the fire and flames leaped up to carve deep shadows on his face. He looked older in that light. And quite determined.
"The war in my family continues, he said. But it is a silent war of spies and night raids. When it's safe my uncle will send for me. And then I will be tribal lord."
"How can you be sure? Safar asked. What if Fulain and Kan keep the upper hand?"
Iraj went silent. He stabbed moodily at the fire. Then he said, I must believe it, don't you see? Otherwise I might as well take my own life now."
Safar didn't see. Why should Iraj die because he couldn't be lord of his tribe? Why not stay in Kyrania where no danger could touch him? He could live a long peaceful life. Marry one of the village women and be happy with all the beauty and bounty of Kyrania. But he said none of those things because he could see from Iraj's agitation it would only upset him morealthough Safar didn't understand why. Instead, he asked him about the customs of his own people.
"It's nothing like here, Iraj said with unconscious disdain. We don't farm. We aren't slaves to the land. We fight for what we want. And we fight more to keep it. For I tell you, Safar, I learned at my father's knee that men will either love you or fear you. There is no in-between."
He said his family had roamed the broad Plains of Jaspar for centuries. They were the fiercest of the tribes that remained after Alisarrian's kingdom broke up. They lived by raiding weaker tribes and looting villages and cities in distant lands. In recent yearseven before his father became illthings had not gone well.
"Our horse herds are not so numerous as before, he said. And a plague took many of our camels. Other tribes have made bargains with the kings of the cities who once paid us tribute. We became surrounded by powerful enemies who are envious of our lands.
"My Uncle Neechanthe one who supports meblames my father for what's happened. Iraj sighed. I suppose he's right although I hate to admit it. I loved my father. But I think he was born too rich. His father was a great war lord and perhaps this weakened him. We used to live in yurts, tarrying until the grazing grew sparse, then packing up and moving on. Sometimes we took to the plains just because the notion sparked us and we traveled whichever way the winds blew. Now we live in a grand fortress my grandfather built."
Iraj said life was luxurious in that fortress. There was gold to buy whatever the family cared to purchasetapestries and carpets and slaves to tend every need. They supped on food made lively with rare spices, some so deliciously hot that the meal was followed by iced sherbets made from exotic fruit gown in distant lands. There was a garden with an ornate fountain in the courtyard of Iraj's home and his father had liked to take his ease there, musing on the antics of the fish, munching on honeyed figs while sniffing at gentle breezes carrying the scent of oranges and roses.
"I think such rich living lessened my father's will to fight, Iraj said. When he'd drunk too much winewhich was often in his later dayshe'd curse those riches and swear that on the morrow he'd pack up our household and take to the Plains of Jaspar again. Living in yurts and going a-raiding like his father had as a young man. But in the morning life would continue as usual.
"I know he felt guilty about it. He even admitted it several times, warning me about the hidden dangers of so many riches. I think this is why he made me take the sword vow. So I might accomplish what he could not. Now the honor of my family is on my head."
"I'm sorry, Safar said, thinking this was a burden he wouldn't want to carry.
"Don't be, Safar, Iraj said. This is what I want. The gods willing, one day I shall restore my family to its former greatness. His voice fell until Safar could barely make out his next words. And more, he murmured.
Just then a flaming object shot through the heavens and the boys heads jerked up in awe. It hung above them, a vast swirling ball that chased the night from the hills. Then the ball exploded, bursting into a fiery shower.
Safar gaped as the glowing particles floated down until they filled his whole vision with dancing light. There were so many it was like snow from a rainbow and then they were drifting over him and he instinctively stuck out his tongue to catch one like a child marveling at snowflakes. To his surprise one floated into his mouth, which was immediately filled with a taste like warm, honeyed wine. Safar's whole body tingled with pleasurable energy and he suddenly felt above all mortal things.