The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) (37 page)

“I’m not fussing,” Raven protested, “I’m straightening.”

“Yeah well you’re straight, can we go now? I’ve wanted a steaming cup of mead for days now.”

“What’s mead?”

“It’s wine, fermented with honey and cloves. It’s the nectar of the gods.”

“Wine? But you don’t drink,” Raven said, confused.

“I don’t drink any night
except Midwinter!
” Tomaz rumbled triumphantly. “Midwinter is the night when you’re supposed to let loose. You’re suppose to do what you’d never allow yourself to do on any other night, you’re supposed to ask any question or give any insult, and no one can hold it against you the next day.”

“How do you prevent full on anarchy?” Raven asked, appalled by the idea of people letting loose in such a way. What would happen if he ran into Henri Perci?

“Ironically, it
solves
most of the problems that have come up throughout the year. Old grudges that haven’t been let out to air suddenly get mentioned, and those around you laugh or groan or make fun of you for it, and suddenly it’s not so important anymore. Part of me thinks that was the reason they came up with the whole night to begin with – some clever Elder realized that once a year it’s probably good to have everyone laugh at each other. Particularly on a night when violence is
severely
frowned upon.”

“Don’t the Kindred have laws against violence as it is?” Raven asked as he straightened his cloak a final time and motioned for Tomaz to lead the way.

“Laws stop most of it during the year,” Tomaz acknowledged as they left the giant’s cabin, venturing out into the night’s bitter chill. “But tradition is something stronger. You break a law and some people will applaud you for it. But you don’t break popular tradition – no one cheers you on for that.”

Raven thought this had the ring of truth about it; the big man made a valid point. They continued to talk on their way into the city, both of them with the hoods of their cloaks pulled up to ward off the cold winds. There were no clouds, so they didn’t have to fear snow, but it was still below freezing and the ground was coated in a layer of ice, still thick from the night before.

They reached the outskirts of the city and ran into their first group of Kindred, all of whom greeted them enthusiastically. They talked amiably, and soon they met more people, all coming from their houses just as twilight began to fade into true darkness, marking the beginnings of the festivities.

Tomaz caught Raven looking around intently.

“Trying to find someone?” He asked with a grin.

“What? Oh, no,” Raven replied. “Just trying to see everything.”

The whole city seemed to be decorated; colored lanterns had been lit and strung between buildings, wreaths had been hung on doors, sprigs of holly and other plants had been hung from posts topped with flickering oil lamps to light the scene. What was more, everyone seemed to be singing – a whole repertory of songs that everyone seemed to know. Some melodies even sounded familiar to Raven, though the words were different.

“Here we are!” Exclaimed Tomaz, pulling Raven toward a vending stand. There were a number of mugs there with steaming liquid inside. “How much?”

“Five silvers for a pint and the mug it comes in,” said the woman behind the counter, “but for you Tomaz, I’ll give you two for seven, and if you want a refill you can have it for a single.”

“Done!” He roared, smiling and passing over a number of Kindred coins, stamped with the rose and sword. He took the mugs and thrust one into Raven’s hands, before drinking deeply from his own. Raven followed suit and raised the mug to his lips; the liquid was absolutely delicious and warmed him from head to toe.

They made their way to the first stage; there were twelve in all, each patronized by one of the active Elders, and found that Elder Lymaugh’s play had just finished. The set was being struck and the crowd was moving on, further into Vale.

“Wait – that was the one Leah was in wasn’t it?”

“Damn!” Tomaz said. “They said it would be later, after moonrise. They must have changed the time.”

They came closer and found that most of the actors had already gone, disappeared into the crowd to make merry.

“We’ll keep an eye open for her,” Tomaz promised Raven, and so they went off into the crowd again, refilled their mugs, and headed to the other stages.

At the fourth stage, an hour or so later, it was Tomaz’s turn to perform. He was a part of something called the Naeliad, a long combination of traditional songs put up by Elder Ceres who enjoyed the classics. The bulk of the Naeliad was chorus songs, sung by everyone in attendance, but every so often a member of the Kindred went up on stage to perform a solo.

Tomaz had what was apparently an infamously tricky bass solo, and when his name was called he left to mount the stage amidst many excited whispers. The organ-like instrument and the lute they had to accompany the singers struck the first chord, Tomaz sang his first note, and Raven’s mouth dropped open. The giant sang in a deep, vibrating bass, hitting every note masterfully, even acting the song out; it was a war song, about a man who has been lost during the winter but had promised to make it home to be with his family once more. He finished on a long, deep note, deeper than anything Raven had heard before, and the Kindred stood and cheered, almost drowning him out. The organ and lute played a final flourish, and Tomaz bowed. The audience clapped and shouted praises, causing Tomaz to blush a deep, deep scarlet color; he looked as if he might die of embarrassment. He gave an awkward bow, left the stage, and rejoined Raven.

“That was fantastic!” Raven said.

“Thanks,” Tomaz said, beaming.

Another Kindred called to him, and the giant turned away, leaving Raven momentarily alone.

SPLAT!

Something hard and cold hit the side of his face, shocking him into crying out; it was a ball of snow that had come whizzing out of nowhere. Sputtering and coughing, he pulled as much of it out of his hood as possible, but some got down his neck and soaked into his shirt, and he shivered violently.

“What – is the princeling cold?”

Raven looked up and saw Leah standing just outside the pavilion, brushing snow off her hands, mouth curved in a wicked smile.

She wore a long, high-necked black dress, with tight-fitting sleeves that ended in dark green cuffs. Just visible underneath were a pair of thick boots, dark against the white snow. The thick wool dress had a hood, one that she had drawn up, and from which spilled a soft flow of hair.

“Yes,” Raven replied tersely.

“Little Raven Talisman can’t keep you warm in the dark, cold night?”

“Well it could,” he said, looking around, feigning interest. “Anyone here you’re not particularly fond of? I could use the exercise.”

She laughed, a full peal of bells, and her eyes flashed. Raven felt something catch in his chest and he was suddenly coughing, having swallowed his own tongue. She warily reached out a hand, watching him with a look of amusement. He cleared his throat one last time and stood up straight; he could feel his cheeks growing hot even in the icy night, and was suddenly grateful that they were in the wane light of oil lamps instead of the bright clockwork fluorescence of Lucien. Leah looked him up and down quickly, taking in his long black cloak and high collar, sizing him up.

“You’re sure you’re warm enough?” She asked seriously.

“Yes,” he responded, stamping his feet and breathing into his hands with a rueful smile. “You’d think being south of Lucien would make it warmer, but apparently that’s not the case.”

“Not at all,” she said, with a wry smile. “We’re pretty high up elevation-wise. Higher than the Fortress even, nestled as we are in these mountains. It’s part of why the Festival is such an event – we’re all stuck her until the winter is over. We might as well make the best of it.”

“Indeed!” Roared Tomaz, making Raven jump.

“You were
great!”
Leah said, coming forward and giving him a hug.

“You heard it?” Tomaz asked, looking both eager and apprehensive.

“Of course I did! I was standing right over there. And you were great. As always.”

“Thanks,” the giant said with a huge smile. “We missed you though ... ”

“I figured you would,” she said with a sigh, “we had to start early. The timing got messed up.”

“I’m sure you were brilliant though,” he said quickly. She smiled, that quick sideways quirk of her lips. “Let me get you some mead – to make up for it.”

“Well, I certainly won’t say no to that. If I act really offended will you get me a double? I’ll put on a pout and everything.”

“I don’t feel that bad.”

“Swindler. I’m emotionally overwrought here.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

The rest of the night was a blur – Tomaz led them from the performance pavilion into the heart of the festival in the center of the huge town square. People were everywhere, grouped by the thousand – all of the Kindred in the entire city seemed to have turned out for the event, all wearing the traditional black clothing, though many had seen fit to thrown in small dashes of color; a red scarf here, a blue hood there. One woman wore a violently pink shawl, while her husband was equipped with an equally virulent yellow hat.

The trees Leah had teased him about lined the square, a long parade of them, decked with carefully trimmed candles and long strings of colorful ornaments. At the foot of each tree had been placed presents for children – each of the children had one, Raven was told, an organizational feat that boggled the mind.

“Elder Keri and Elder Dragon Lady do it,” Leah said as they walked around the trees.

“Dragon Lady?” Raven asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I like it,” she said simply. “Better than her real name.”

“Dawn has a soft spot for kids,” Tomaz rumbled with a smile. “I usually help out too – lots of them want things that need to be made. In my spare time I usually throw together a few knick-knacks. Most everyone in the city does actually. It’s great!”

His huge booming voice rocked back the Kindred standing around them, all of whom turned and roared back at him. A few of the men who had been partaking more heavily in the mead even came up to Tomaz and started telling him they could take him.

Raven, alarmed, moved to go to his friend’s aide, but Leah stopped him with a look. She shook her head and motioned with her chin to the gathering group, telling him to watch.

“We can take you big man!” Taunted one man – the old husband with his offensively bright yellow hat.

“Yeah! There may be only twenty of us, but we can at least try, right?”

Tomaz, for his part, was playing it up, pretending to cower at the center of the group.

“Why?” He cried up to the heavens in mock drama. “Why on this most joyous of nights must you let me be accostified –“

“Accosted!” Leah corrected.

“
Accostified,
” Tomaz insisted, “by this band of ruffians?”

As if on cue, ten or twelve of them all jumped him, bearing even the huge bulk of the giant to the ground. Raven, despite Leah’s calm assurance, felt his anxiety peak, and he moved forward, only to stop when he saw the pile of men begin to move.

And then Tomaz simply stood up, bearing the men into the air, some falling off as they lost their grip, laughing all the while.