I was silent for some time. Finally I said, “We are going to have a complicated marriage.”
She smiled, with sudden, genuine humor. “Perhaps this may be so.”
I could not help but return her smile. But I asked, “Will you travel with us when we go south? I would like that, but does Aras disturb you too much now? Or will your father not permit it?”
“My father and I have already discussed this. Elaro and I will ride south with you. All the way. I would like that. I would like to ride that far with you before I ride north again with Elaro.”
I nodded. But I said, “Koro permits this not to please his daughter, but because so long a journey in his company, and so long a journey to return, will let a singer see for certain whether she still trusts Aras. If you decide otherwise, you will ...” I paused, because I was not certain what she would do.
“I will pray to the gods for guidance,” she said. “And, if I think it necessary, I will pray for the gods to strike him down.”
“Ah.” The prayers of a singer can be more dangerous than any sword.
“I think that will not be necessary,” Darra added. “I think the gods have already made their decision. No Lau could have beaten Royova otherwise.”
“Geras meant to do as he did. He meant it from the first.”
“So,” she said. She might have known that already, but if not, she was unsurprised to hear my words. “He is a worthy opponent. But that does not matter. If the gods had favored Royova, then clouds would have crossed the face of the Sun, not slipped out of his way so that that he could fling down his light.”
I nodded. This was true. She leaned against me again, and I put my arm around her, and we sat together for some time, not moving. The wind came and ruffled the papers Darra had laid by, but she did not trouble herself to correct the disorder. I laid her stylus over the papers and then, more practically, a clean stone set there for the purpose.
At last Aras put back the entry of the tent and came out, straightening. He paused, but I noticed that he did not blink in the afternoon sunlight. I had never noticed before that the Lau did not pause to let their eyes adjust as they stepped from a dim place into bright light. I thought I would not fail to notice that again.
When he saw Darra sitting with me, he hesitated. I thought that he need not, or not on my account, and she straightened away from me—I let her go only reluctantly—and nodded to him to show he was welcome to approach. So he crossed the small distance, dropping to sit on the other side of the fire. “That was uncomfortable,” he said in darau. “Though I suppose no more so than I deserved.”
Darra looked up at him. “Probably you took yet another oath,” she said in the same language. “But will it bind you?”
His expression had been hard to read, but his mouth crooked up at that, not so much amused as wry. “We shall have to see. I have not taken it yet. I will do so at dawn. That is the right time for Lau to swear oaths. Or midday. But for this one, dawn.” He added to me, “Your people frame your oaths a little differently, but this is the sort of oath you’d imagine your king would request. Not as strict as the one I swore to Soretes, actually, and regarding only the use of sorcery on Ugaro. Or rather, the definite non-use of sorcery on Ugaro.”
“So,” I said noncommittally.
“I know; it’s a bit like shutting the gate when you’re already standing in the dust of the departing herd. But in his place, I would probably require something very like it from a man like me, even though I’m already an oathbreaker.” He paused.
I did not want to think of oathbreaking right now. I said, “So,” again, in an even flatter tone.
“Every oath taken is a barrier to wrong action,” Darra said. “I think, so far, it is not wrong to ask the gods to be merciful to you and judge you kindly. Perhaps they may, if everyone earnestly asks for that on your behalf. If you break the new oath, that will be different. Should that happen, no Ugaro singer will pray for mercy.”
Aras nodded. “That seems fair enough. I would certainly be particularly glad to know Ugaro singers might petition the gods for mercy for my sake.”
“Yes,” Darra said. “You should be.” She rose, and stood for a moment looking at him. Finally she walked away, and went into her father’s tent.
Aras, looking after her, sighed. He said to me, “Ryo, I honestly don’t believe anything has changed.”
“I am pleased to know this.”
“Yes, I’m aware it may take some time to be certain. Regardless of the oath or any oath, once I cross the river, I am forbidden to return to the winter country without Koro's explicit permission, as well as the permission and invitation of the lord of the territory I enter.”
I nodded. That was not at all surprising.
“Yes, I thought so too. To be perfectly honest, I doubt I shall ever find it advisable to impose upon your king's ... let's say, his tolerance. I think
