Hari! Anyhow, even if you wish to consider him a demon, is it not better to give him a reason to want to be part of what we have built rather than merely wanting to avoid the cloaks he hates and fears? Will I not get a better price for the peaches I am offering for sale if the customer has a hankering for such fruit, rather than feeling forced to haggle where he does not-'
Anji laughed, and she blushed, seeing he had conceived a more intimate interpretation of her words. 'I am not convinced that is a good comparison, whatever it was you meant to make of it,' he said. 'But you are right. It is better to act out of desire than fear. What are you thinking?'
On this, her third visit to Uncle Hari in the valley, she waited until she had hot tea poured and cups set on a tray, all the while chattering about the various councils of Olo'osson large and small as if this conversation were merely a way to pass a quiet afternoon. They sat, as before, in the ruins sprawled alongside the pool and waterfall. The cave and its altar remained dark and dry; no threads glimmered on the sloped roof, and no dark shapes roiled beneath the pool's murky waters.
They were alone in the upper vale: she, Uncle Hari, and Anji with the baby in his lap. Chief Tuvi stood below, where the path emerged out of the tangle, while Sengel and Toughid waited out of sight. Five reeves had dropped them off with an offering chest, none the wiser, and departed with orders to return a hand's span before sunset.
'You want me to preside over an assizes?' Hari asked.
She flushed. She had not yet spoken of her plan, although naturally it sat forefront of her thoughts.
'I know,' he said, 'that you were waiting to broach the subject until you had soothed me with gossip and tea, but you cannot conceal your plans from me. What use would I be at an assizes? Have I ever shown the least sign of wisdom in conducting my own wasted life?'
'Do this one time as a favor for me, Uncle. I beg you. Just one time. And then, afterward-'
'Stop!' he cried, laughing in the old remembered way, with his big grin and crinkled eyes. 'You will slay me, Mai. I can refuse you nothing when you stare at me with that hopeful face. You want to make a song of it all.' He looked toward the wash of water as it rained into the pool. 'I once wanted to make a song of it all. You see how it worked out.'
'The tale is not yet finished, Uncle. That is the mistake you are making, if you don't mind my saying so. You've closed the gate, but you can open it again. There are other paths-'
'Aiee!' He laughed again and this time, remarkably, looked at Anji. 'Is she always this persistent?'
Anji smiled.
'One time,' said Hari to Mai. 'Because you asked.'
'I have it all arranged,' she said, although emotion tangled in her market voice, making it hard to speak. 'You need only arrive at the council square just before sunset tomorrow, Uncle.'
'They won't know I'm coming,' he said, and she dreaded the way his voice softened, as if he were changing his mind.
'You'll come to Astafero and preside over the assizes, just like the tales say it happened in the old days. You'll see. Please-'
'No tears! Just this one time.' He rose without drinking his tea and began to pace. 'What am I to do? What am I to say?'
'Say as little as possible,' said Anji.
'Let them speak,' added Mai. 'There will be a clerk of Sapanasu, to record the proceedings, and an envoy of Ilu, one of Kotaru's ordinands, a mendicant sworn to Atiratu, a diakonos serving Taru, and a kalos from Ushara's temple in Olossi.' She glanced at Anji, who betrayed by no flicker any discomfort at this mention of the Devourer's temple. 'There must be representatives of each of the seven gods at an assizes. Except for the pilgrims of Hasibal, because the Formless One has neither temples nor priests.'
'You know the Hundred well, Mai.'
'I'm just saying you need only listen and hear. Others know the law. But in the case of certain intractable cases, you'll know the truth.'
The next day — the auspicious day known as Transcendent Snake — passed slowly. In the afternoon, after a draft of calming tea and water to cool her face, feet, and hands, Mai walked down to the council benches. Would he come? Or would he turn away?
The council speaker called the council to order. The first business was a continuing discussion of certification in the market. What authority determined which goods could be certified as best-quality, good-quality, everyday- quality? Should shoddy work be forced off the market, or fined? What if a competitor brought a charge of shoddy work merely to cut into another's sales? In Olossi, the council controlled certification, but in Astafero, no standards had yet been set. People had settled here from villages and towns all over Olo'osson, and naturally they did not always agree.
As the debate dragged on, Anji without fuss or announcement walked up with Sengel and Toughid to stand at the back in the last hand's-breadth of shade. A few people noted him, but the discussion flowed on regardless. His gaze wandered. He tipped back his head, following an object moving in the sky.
'Heya!' cried a youth loitering near Chief Tuvi's guardsmen. 'What is that?'
A rider on a winged horse cantered to earth. Mai rose, heart
pounding, as the assembly fell into a dead silence. Hari hesitated, looking — she thought — ready to fly away. What must she say, to draw him in without betraying her knowledge of him? He did not particularly resemble her except in coloring, but might people wonder anyway? Or would they not see past his winged horse and Guardian's cloak?
A faltering voice trembled through the first lines of a song, and other voices joined in.
'Come in, come in, we welcome you with garlands Come in, come in, at long last you return'
The noodle seller, Behara, beckoned to her daughter and sent her running down into town. The six priests rose in consternation, and finally the hierophant extended open hands.
'Holy One,' she said, but faltered, washed bloodless and unable to speak further.
'Make a space for the holy Guardian!' snapped the Lady's mendicant. 'For as it says in the tale, face south in the morning and north in the afternoon. Isn't that how it goes?'
At first no one moved. Then, awkwardly, one man and another woman and more cleared a bench and backed away. Hari dismounted, and the horse furled its wings. A child came running up from town in company with Behara's elder daughter, and the little one — not more than seven or eight — without the slightest self- consciousness pattered forward with a garland draped over one arm and raised it as an offering. The garland was a little withered, truly, and where it had come from in this season Mai could not imagine.
Hari stared at it until the child said in a clear, carrying, and somewhat exasperated voice, 'You're supposed to take it. It's an offering, Holy One!'
Hari's grin blazed. He bent low so the child could drape the garland over his head, then he walked down to the cleared bench, the child trotting behind. The silence within the assembly was so intense that Mai realized her nails were biting into her palms. She opened her hands and sat, to avoid notice.
'And stop pinching your big sister when no one is looking, just to get her into trouble,' Hari said to the child, who chortled wickedly and bolted into the crowd.
Behara actually laughed, although it was her own grandson so
accused. She stood. 'Holy One, I pray you, sit down. Why are you come?' If she was nervous, she hid it well.
'I am a Guardian,' he said as he let his gaze pass once over the assembly. Startled gazes flicked up, or down; a man gasped out a word; a woman chuckled; another sobbed into her hands. 'Is this not an assizes?'
He sat.
Everyone looked toward the six priests, who were conferring in frantic whispers. No one knew what to do!
'Bring cases forward,' said Behara impatiently.
'But there is a proper form-' cried the hierophant.
'Never mind the cursed proper forms,' said Behara. 'How are we to remember a ritual no one here alive has ever witnessed? We'll discuss the certification issue next council meeting. Aren't there other disputes to be brought forward today?'
