The Search for Kä (6 page)

“Thymas has already presented your request, Carillo.”

A tremor in Dharak's left arm drew my attention to his hands; they were clenched into fists.

So it did bother the old man that Thymas kept the scout's report to himself!
I thought.

“There is another that must be heard,” Tarani said as she walked forward to stand, sha'umless, beside me. Dharak and I both turned to her in surprise—Dharak, no doubt, because she had interrupted whatever he had rehearsed to say to us, and I because of the peculiar tone of her voice. After an instant's study, I identified it, with more astonishment, as timidity.

“Dharak, you were injured—and your Captain might have been killed—because of me. I ask your pardon for the role of deceit and betrayal I played on that day. I also ask that you do not allow feelings toward me to color your decision about the female sha'um who walks with me now. She is in desperate need of rest. Though I wish to be close to her during this critical period, we cannot truly be separated—and if you cannot, in conscience, admit me within your walls, I will be content to lodge elsewhere, if I know she is comfortable.”

Dharak stared at Tarani for what seemed a long time—but perhaps my perception was colored by the fact that I was holding my breath. Finally, the Lieutenant held out his hands to Tarani and spoke with touching gentleness.

“Thymas has told us why that happened, Tarani, and I would gladly have traded this broken arm for the life of the man you were trying to protect. Not my life, perhaps,” he added with a smile, “but a broken arm—certainly.”

“You are kind,” Tarani said, placing her hands in the old man's. “I wish I could forgive myself so easily.”

“You are welcome among the Sharith, my dear, as is your companion.” He glanced at me, hesitated, then faced Tarani squarely again. “May I greet her?”

Well,
I thought,
at least Thymas and Dharak talk to each other. I'd swear that it was Dharak's first instinct to ask my permission to greet Yayshah, just as Thymas did. The boy had to have warned him against it.

Tarani released Dharak's hands and took a small step backward. The gray-brown cat came forward slowly. Tarani reached up with her left hand to stroke the side of the sha'um's muzzle and said: “This is Yayshah.”

Dharak let the cat examine his open hand until her ears came forward, then rubbed behind her ear. I could almost feel waves of tenderness and awe from the watching crowd as Yayshah closed her eyes and twisted her head against his hand. After a moment, Dharak stepped back into position between the rows of Riders, and the crowd's mood became more crisp.

“Captain, the Sharith are honored that you pay us the courtesy of requesting what you might command. Again, welcome—Rikardon and Keeshah, Tarani and Yayshah.”

A shout rose from the crowd—no words or names, just a joyful sound. I felt my throat tighten with the special joy and terror that a demonstration of the respect of the Sharith always brought to me. Beside me, Yayshah flinched slightly, but I saw Tarani's hand moving on her neck, calming the big cat.

When the roar had died down, Dharak spoke again. “We have one request, Captain. You will have noticed that our sha'um are not with us.” I nodded. “I can speak for the Riders, my friend, but not for our sha'um. Until we can be sure that Yayshah is accepted among her own kind, we are asking our sha'um to remain on the far side of the river, except when their Riders call them for exercise or patrol. We ask, therefore, that Yayshah and Keeshah find their home on the nearer side of the river, at least temporarily.”

*
Keeshah, they want you and Yayshah to stay on this side of the river for a while, away from the other sha'um. Do you have any objection to that?
*

*
Food there?
* he asked.

I tried to remember. The Sharith kept tame herds of glith for their own meat, but allowed a large herd to run wild on the slopes of their valley, to provide natural game for the sha'um. I knew that the tame herds were restricted to the farther side of the river, which was the main residence area for the Sharith, but I couldn't see the possibility, much less the value, of placing any restrictions on the wild herds.

*
I think so, Keeshah. If not, I'm sure Dharak will see to it that you have good hunting.
*

*All right,*
Keeshah agreed.

The mental exchange took much less time than a vocal conversation would have consumed. It was barely a second after Dharak had made his request that I looked toward Tarani, who moved around Yayshah so that I could see her nod her head.

“The sha'um consent,” I told the Lieutenant.

We walked into Thagorn between the lines of cheering people—Keeshah and I in the lead, followed by Yayshah and Tarani, then Dharak and Thymas. The boy had stood by mutely throughout the ceremony of greeting, and he disappeared into the crowd as soon as we stepped through the gate.

The crowd started to dissolve, the crisp lines behind us fragmenting into clumps of people who drifted through the gateway, smiled at us uncertainly and from a distance, edged around us, and set off for the bridge that led to the family dwellings across the river.

I felt a coldness creep in, where a moment ago there had been only the warmth of joy.

“Dharak—” I began, but when I turned around, Shola was standing beside her husband, her eyes on me.

“I, too, bid you welcome, Captain,” she said, extending her hands. “Our home is open to you—to you both. If you'd care to come with me now—?”

“Thank you, Shola,” I said. “We will see our sha'um settled, then accept your invitation with pleasure.”

“Thank you, Shola,” Tarani said. The Lieutenant's wife gave the girl a brief glance and nod, then walked away.

The moment of silence that followed Shola's rudeness was awkward. Finally, Tarani spoke, her voice clipped and tight to conceal the hurt I knew she felt.

“Perhaps it would be better if I—”

I interrupted her. “Tarani and I will avail ourselves of one of the vacant houses,” I told Dharak, not trying to hide my anger. “Join us later, and we will talk.”

“Please, Rikardon,” Dharak said. His use of my name, rather than title, caught my attention, as did the whispered pleading in his voice. “We must talk later, in truth—but for now, I beg you, it is very important that you and Tarani share our home. Shola—I will speak to her. If you can be tolerant for only a little while, she will change, I promise you.”

Promise?
I thought.
Only a fool
—
or a desperate man
—
would promise the actions of another person.

“Tarani?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I spoke the truth to Dharak; as long as Yayshah is comfortable, I care not where I rest. You may choose for both of us.”

I nodded to Dharak. “We will join you shortly,” I said, and led Keeshah from the roadway without looking back at the Lieutenant.

I was deeply disturbed.

That's what I get
, I told myself,
for thinking simplistically, and identifying Thagorn as only a place of rest. It's a place of
people,
which means it's just as busy and complicated as any other city
—
more so, I'd say, with sha'um part of the citizenry.

When Tarani and I arrived at the Lieutenant's home, which was the only single-residence building gateside of the river, it was Dharak who greeted us, showed us to our rooms and offered the use of his private bathhouse. He and I waved at Tarani as she passed the uncurtained door of my bedroom; she smiled and flipped the end of her towel at us.

“I'm ready to talk,” I said. “Why was it so important that Tarani and I stay here? I stayed in the barracks on my last visit.”

“At your own request,” Dharak amended. “And only
before
you became Captain.” He looked away from me, walked to a chair and examined the lattice-wood construction of its back. “I have spoken to Shola—with what result, I confess I do not know. If you find her company intolerable, Rikardon, then she and I will move to a vacant house, and you and Tarani may have this one.”

I wanted to tell him what I thought of that idea, but I held back.
Dharak's an intelligent man, a wise leader
, I thought,
but this residence thing
—
he tenses up and won't look me in the eye. Something's screwy here.

“Answer my question, Dharak,” I said.

Something in my voice made him stop his fidgeting. Standing with his hand on the chair back, still facing away from me, he sighed and spoke.

“You remember, of course, that when you were here last, I had the feeling that Thymas was achieving a place of leadership among the younger Riders?”

“I remember. You said you hoped the Sharith would be more united under the leadership of me as Captain. I suspected, at the time, that it was your main reason for pressing me to accept.”

The old man faced me then, snapping around in what was almost an “attention” pose. “It was not!” he denied. He would have said more, but I waved him silent.

“I told you what I believed then,” I said. “I no longer think so, in spite of the present situation.”

“The present situation?” Dharak echoed.

I had begun to put some things together, and I didn't like the answers I was getting. I let my anger show.

“Yes, the present situation, in which you are using the Captain of the Sharith as a weapon in a power struggle against your son. Why else would it be so important that I stay here, even when it may mean discomfort for Tarani?” I wanted to ask, as well, why Shola was acting so coldly toward Tarani, but that seemed beside the point at the moment.

I watched Dharak's face display shock and guilt, then harden into determination.

“What I do is no worse than what Thymas has done. Since his return he has used the—I will call it ‘glamour'—of his association with you to win, ever more strongly, the loyalty of the young Riders. The division is growing, Rikardon. You are entirely correct; I thought your presence in my home might be taken as a confirmation of my place as leader. This is more than a personal conflict between father and son, Captain. You know that the scout brought Thymas news of your arrival, but I heard nothing of it until Thymas himself brought me your request—after first attempting to greet you ‘officially' for the Sharith. He would have liked nothing better than to surprise us all by riding beside you and Tarani into Thagorn.”

“Then you believe he kept the news from you deliberately?” I asked.

“I do,” the old man affirmed. “He knew I would not embarrass us all by withholding my approval after he had invited you—Yayshah included—to stay with us.”

“Did he have reason to fear your disapproval?”

At that, Dharak paused. “No,” he answered at last, “not if he had taken the time to think it out logically. But our … conversations have not been graced with rationality lately.” He slapped at the edge of the chair and muttered under his breath. “Rikardon, the boy opposes me at every turn.”

“Purposely?” I asked.

“Yes!” Dharak nearly shouted, then added more calmly, “Or no. It does seem we have a natural bent toward looking at things differently. Purposeful or not, however, the result is that we seem always to be at opposite ends of any situation.

“In the matter of your arrival—he could not have doubted that you, personally, would be welcome. But as to Tarani and her sha'um … he might have felt I would disapprove solely because
he
wanted them to stay.”

I shook my head and placed my hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder. “Could he have thought, my friend, that your actions might be more influenced by Shola's wishes than by his?”

Dharak gripped my forearm with his hand and chuckled. “How well you read people, Rikardon.”

“Tarani once said something of the sort to me, with as little reason. Shola has hardly been hiding her bad feelings toward Tarani,” I said.

“Not from Tarani, perhaps,” Dharak said, “but from me—she will not discuss it at all. It amazes me, Rikardon. At the mention of Tarani's name, Shola turns into a salt block. In all the years I have known her, I have never had to deal with this … this silence before. Anger, yes. Fury on occasion. Quiet despair when we finally accepted that our other son would never return from the Valley of the Sha'um. But in those, we were together. She aimed her anger at me, she shared her grief with me. This—cold, isolated bitterness confounds me.”

“How long has this been going on?” I asked him.

“Since you and Thymas left in pursuit of Tarani.”

I left Dharak and walked to the unglassed window. The latticework shutters stood open to reveal a view of the river, on the opposite side of the house from the main road and bridge. I braced my arms on either side of the narrow window and stared out at the peaceful countryside. Some three hundred yards away, the valley floor rose steeply into brush-covered hillside. High on the irregular slope, I caught a glimpse of tan moving with startling speed, flashing in and out of sight as it passed behind hills and denser brush.

I reached out for Keeshah with my mind, and found him busy and joyful, concentrating on getting the glith he had just killed back to Yayshah. I didn't bother him, but the familiar touch comforted me in this home that had been open and warm once, but seemed so no longer.

“With your permission, Dharak,” I said, “I'd like to try to talk to Shola about this.”

“Do you know what the matter is?” he asked, his voice revealing a blend of consternation and delight.

“I have a couple of ideas,” I admitted. “Mostly, though, I'd like to make it clear that if Tarani is not welcome here, I cannot accept your hospitality.” I looked over my shoulder at the Lieutenant. “And I will not stand for your vacating this house, Dharak. No matter what you feel the effect will be on the Sharith as a group, Tarani and I will leave.”