Iraj leaned close, whispering, Are you certain?"
Safar's answer was a lifted brandy bowl and a loud call for a toast to honor the deeds of his brave friend. It was the first toast he'd ever made in adult company. And all hailed Iraj Protarus, the young man Safar knew would someday be king.
After that everyone became a little drunk. It was another first for Safar. Relief mixed with fuddlement and he was suddenly very happy. He became happier still when Coralean began handing out the gifts.
First he told the elders that he would pay double for any goods, services or animals he purchased during his stay in Kyrania. Then he had his servants bring out heaping baskets of gifts. He asked the men if they would be so kind as to distribute them to the villagers. For each of the elders he had a purse of silver. For every man in the village there were small sacks of tobacco and a single silver coin. For every woman there were vials of perfume and little baubles to string as jewelry or to sew on their clothing. For every child there were ginger sweets as well as a copper coin.
Finally he came to Safar and Iraj.
"Coralean has thought long on this, my young friends, he said. I have other presents I will give you both a bit later. He snorted. Money, of course. But what is money, lads? Coins have value only because we all agree to give them such. I have a few pleasures in mindyet you will have pleasures aplenty in the long lives before you. But I wanted to give each of you something special. A gift you will always remember Coralean by.
"First, my friend Iraj… He took out a black velvet pouch. Iraj's eyes sparkled as Coralean withdrew a small golden amulet. It was a horsea wondrously formed steed dangling from a glittering chain. Some day, Coralean said, you will see the perfect horse. It will be a steed above all steeds. A true warrior's dream, worth more than a kingdom to men who appreciate such things. The beast will be faster and braver than any animal you could imagine. Never tiring. Always sweet-tempered and so loyal that if you fall it will charge back into battle so you might mount it again.
"But, alas, no one who owns such a creature would ever agree to part with it. Even if it is a colt its lines will be so pure, its spirit so fierce, that the man it belongs to would be blind not to see what a fine animal it will become. He handed the horse amulet to Iraj. If you give this magical ornament to that man he will not be able to refuse you the trade. But do not fear that you will be cheating him. For he only has to find another dream horse and the man who owns it will be compelled to make the same bargain when he gives him the amulet."
Tears welled in Iraj's eyes and they spilled unashamedly down his face as he husked his thanks and embraced the caravan master. When I find that horse, Iraj said, I promise that I will ride without delay to your side so you can see for yourself what a grand gift you gave me."
Coralean, whose emotions were as large as his frame, harumphed to cover the sob in his throat.
Then he turned to Safar. The first thought the young Timura had was that he hoped Coralean wasn't going to give him a horse as well. What use would such a rare creature be to a potter? It was a foolish thought and he was immediately ashamed of himself for thinking it. He vowed to accept whatever gift he received with loudalthough pretendeddelight, so as not to spoil the pleasure of such a generous man.
"They tell me, young Safar, Coralean said, that you are very wise. Some say you are the wisest child ever to have been born in Kyrania. Safar started to protest but the caravan master raised a hand to stop any foolishly modest statements that might burst forth. For you Coralean has two small gifts. Together they may more than equal the gift I made to Iraj. That depends on whether you are as wise as they say and make good use of them."
He took a scroll from his robes. This is a letter to a friend in Walaria. He is a rich man, an educated man. A patron to the all the artists and thinkers in Walaria. It asks him to present this to the chief priest at the temple school. He will entreat them to grant you entrance and once you join the great scholars there Coralean will pay all your expenses until you are the wisest man in all the land."
Safar's fingers shook as he took the rolled up scroll. It was heavier than he expected and he nearly dropped it. Then a small silver dagger slipped onto his lap.
Coralean stroked his beard. That is my second present to you, he said. Safar lifted the knife, knowing it had some hidden purpose and wondering what that purpose might be. Since you will be among so many wise men, Coralean said, that knife may prove even more valuable than the education you will receive. Listen to an old merchant. When a thought is too weighty it's probably not to be trusted. When a man's words are thick with the fat of hidden meaning it's doubtful they have as much value as the speaker implies. That knife will cut through those weighty thoughts and fatty words. And you will come to the true answer with little struggle."
He looked at the other men, heavy eyebrows lifting high with humor. At least that's what the witch Coralean bought it from promised."
Everyone chortled. Safar was stunned, not knowing what to make of either gift, especially the mysterious properties the knife supposedly held. He picked it up, felt a trickle of power and knew it to be as magical as the witch had warranted.
His father's voice came to him from far away, as if in a dream. Aren't you going to thank Coralean, my son? Khadji asked. Otherwise he'll think you were raised without manners."
Safar fumbled thanks, as graceless as any youth of seventeen years, but Coralean seemed to understand the shyness. He embraced the young man, nearly smothering him with his great strength. Safar hugged him back.
"Come, now, the caravan master roared as he pulled away. Coralean promised the people of Kyrania a feast! Drink up, my friends, so we may all stumble out with a good cargo of spirits in our bellies to begin the celebration."
The men shouted, bowls were emptied in mighty swallows, then refilled to the overflowing.
And there were few in the village who were not of tender years who did not spend the following days in a stupor so blissful that it was spoken of for much time to come.
That first night the sky was filled with fiery smoke balloons and kites with long flaming tails. There was drunken song and music everywhere and lovers slipped off into the darkness. Many a betrothal was sealed that night and many a child conceived in sighing embraces and barely-stifled cries of pleasure.
Coralean drew Safar and Iraj aside before they'd imbibed too much. He took the brandy bowls from their hands, saying: You'll have need of all your senses tonight, my young friends. He chuckled. Besides, you're both certain to end up in the arms of a village lass if you become too befuddled."
He wagged a finger. No sense spoiling your futures with a too early marriage. Coralean is blessed with a passionate nature himself. Ask any of his wives and serving girls. He winked. They call me their beloved bull. I have swarms of children to prove it. I tell you, if Coralean had been born into a poorer family my father wouldn't have been able to afford to save me from my youthful indiscretions."
Then he threw his arms about their shoulders and led them through a series of curtained rooms to the women's quarters. The main area was filled with pillows piled as high as their knees. Coralean plumped down and patted the pillows for the young men to sit on either side of him.
"I promised to show you a thing or two about pleasure, my boys, he said. And I, Coralean the Bull, know more of such things than most men. It isn't a boast but a simple statement of fact concerning the Coralean nature."
He clapped his hands and a wide curtain parted. Safar heard high, pleasing voices and the courtesans filed through, parading before the men in a silky, perfumed line.