Suyet nodded. Even if he disagreed with me, he would have nodded and not argued. He did not like to argue. He asked me in taksu, “What would your people do if someone tried to kill your king as happened today? Put the ... the warrior to death and nothing else?”
I thought about this. Finally I said, still speaking in darau, “There is no word for assassin in taksu. The word for murderer is gutak. That may not be exactly the same as the word murderer in darau. If this same act had been attempted by an Ugaro against our king, that would not be called murder unless the one who loosed the arrow also tried to conceal his responsibility for the act. There can be no honorable reason for killing in secret.” I thought some more. Then I said, “I do not think any king of the winter country has ever been killed by murder. But if it happened, no one would say the murderer’s whole tribe should be put to death for the act.”
“It’s harsh,” he agreed, speaking darau again. He handed me a loaf of bread and some of the beef. He took the olives for himself, knowing I did not like them. He said, “A long time ago, a lot of our kings got assassinated, one after another. That was a pretty bad time, I guess. Aras could tell you about that.”
I was certain Aras could tell me everything about it. I did not want to hear it. I said, now in taksu, “Sometimes it happens that a tribe is destroyed completely and the name of the tribe forgotten. But no matter how bitter an enmity or how disgracefully a tribe has behaved, no one would put everyone in that tribe to death. I have never heard of that happening. Some of the people would go to an allied tribe and ask to take that name. If the tribe had no allies, the people might go a more distant tribe, one that had no opinion of the disgraced tribe, and ask there. Some might even go to enemies. If they asked humbly enough, some would be permitted to come into those other tribes. But perhaps your custom—your law—makes sense for your people, even though it is so harsh. That may be so. I do not say it is not so. That is not what concerns me.” I paused. Then I added, “Did you understand all that I said?”
“I think I understood most of it,” he told me in taksu. “Your people are so much more violent than Lau, and then suddenly so much more generous. I understand what concerns you.”
“You did not mean suddenly. I think you meant unexpectedly.”
“Oh, yes, that’s what I meant. Ryo, it’ll take a long time to round up all those people. He’ll have time to think.”
“Perhaps that may be so.” I did not believe Aras was thinking now. I thought he was telling himself he had no choices, and I thought he would say that over and over to himself until he made it true. I did not say that. I wished very much I could ask my father for advice. Or better still, my mother. A problem having to do with honor should be laid before a respected man to solve, but a problem having to do with custom should be laid before a woman, especially a singer.
I wondered what Darra inKarano would have said on the matter. As the daughter of a king, she might have a different opinion about what was right to do when someone tried to murder a king.
In the distance, not close, wolves sang. I turned my head, listening. Their voices rose up into the sky, long cries at first and then shorter and deeper in pitch. Five wolves, six, seven. More than seven. At least eight. That was a strong tribe of wolves. It made me feel better to hear them.
“Wolves never attack Ugaro, right?” Suyet asked me. “How about a Lau who’s with an Ugaro?” He was smiling, but he was nervous too.
“No,” I told him. “They will probably hunt to the north and east. There are creeks there, and meadows, and young trees of the kind the small deer like to browse. The hunting will be better that way. But even if they came to this place, wolves would not be dangerous to a Lau who was with me.”
“Good to know.” He handed me two of the cakes. “Can I ask you something, Ryo? It might be offensive.”
I thought I knew what he wanted to ask. I said, “I think you may want to speak in taksu for this question. Recently someone said something regarding wolves that offended me. I do not think it is possible to be that offensive in taksu.”
He took some time over it. Finally he said, in taksu, “I know Ugaro approve of the white tigers and the small lions and the great bears. But wolves are the only ones Ugaro say are their cousins. I would like to know why Ugaro say this, if it is not impolite to ask.”
“That is not at all impolite,” I told him approvingly. “You asked that very well. You did not mean approve of. I think you meant respect.” The words were similar.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Respect.”
“It was still well asked. No one could be offended. We respect wolves because they are like us. They are children of the Moon, as we are, and sing to her as we do. They live in tribes that are families, as we do; and they care for each other, as we do; and
