A fine, sturdy, bronze-bay stallion with eyes like a wintering storm, Palatan signed with a grin. I’ve always heard it’s water-horses who have the largest—
Našobok grabbed Palatan’s hand, made his own talk tickle promise against his palm. Tease.
“You’re a fine horse, Uncle Našobok!” Kuli enthused. “But I guess you’d be a River horse.”
“A’io,” Palatan warned, “one of the puquhiś, the legendary ones who coax you to back them, then toss you to drown.”
“Not true!” Našobok pretended to pout.
Palatan laughed, soft. Madoc shot him a puzzled look, and Palatan gave a fond ruffle at Madoc’s hair. All ombre and gold beneath Sun, braided here and there with turquoise thread and carved wood beads, it curled unruly as his sire’s. Madoc responded to the affection with another huge grin.
“But I like riding my horse in water,” Kuli was protesting. “I like River. Tokela does, too. You know, Tokela and I are going to travel River together. When I’m old enough, that is.”
Madoc puffed up like a fantail in mating plumage. “If Tokela went anywhere, which he is not, it wouldn’t be with you.”
“Well, it won’t be with you,” Kuli countered. “You don’t like going on boats. You get sick.”
“Once. I was sick once, you Spawn—Yai!”
This as Palatan flipped a sharp smack to the back of Madoc’s head.
Kuli gave a satisfied snort; Madoc rubbed at his skull and eyed Palatan, wounded.
Palatan shrugged. “Then mind your tongue, ahlóssa.”
“Sounds familiar.” Našobok arched an eyebrow towards Palatan. “Except for the ‘once’, of course. And here I thought only pretty horsetalkers found River uncertain.”
Palatan rolled his eyes.
Madoc, left off rubbing his head to attend one of the hem lacings to his leggings, untied and flapping loose.
“Tokela loves boats,” Kuli informed them. “He doesn’t get sick. He takes me in the dugouts all the time. Maybe Tokela and I’ll travel River with you, Uncle Našobok.”
“Maybe.” Našobok swung Kuli down. “For now, run with your own feet, Little Fox.”
Kuli beamed at the intimacy, grabbed Našobok’s hand and half ran, half walked between them. Našobok kept grinning, a tiny curl of satisfaction. Palatan saw the bodytalk of that in a heartbeat.
“You are not,” he informed Našobok, “stealing my chieftain’s only son away to your oversized canoe.”
“Ship. You know perfectly well Ilhukaia is a ship,” Našobok parried, then addressed Kuli once more. “But your yeka’s right, Little Fox. You have to grow tall and strong before you can make such choices. Perhaps after nextSun’s rising I can arrange a ride for you and Tokela and Madoc, if…” He looked back, trailed off.
Madoc had disappeared. Palatan slid puzzled eyes to Našobok.
Našobok’s satisfaction had flattened; he gave Palatan a small shrug, signed, I should have known.
“Yeka! Uncle Našobok!” Kuli gave a tug. “I nearly forgot, I promised I’d eat with Laocha, so I’d better run.”
And he was gone, bare feet speeding over the grass and towards the trees. There was indeed a group of ahlóssa waiting there; Kuli burst into their midst like a spark from a hearth, and a young fem about his age—likely the aforementioned Laocha—grabbed his arm and dragged him away. The rest followed, carrying on with high voices, exuberant leaps and darts.
Našobok chuckled. “Ai, to have all that energy.”
Palatan didn’t answer. Instead he watched Našobok’s back, straight and broad beneath the leather longcoat, watched the blood-hued beading glimmer as Našobok crossed his arms. “You should have known?” Palatan prompted, quiet.
Again the beads glimmered, betrayal of the barely perceptible tremor beneath. “Madoc.”
Palatan’s brows twisted in sudden understanding.
Našobok gave another shrug. “He’s of an age where ‘shoulds’ outweigh too many things. Just as well. If he was already wilful, he’d just end up like I did.”
Palatan put a hand to his shoulder. “Is that so bad, wyrh-chieftain?”
“For me, n’da. I’d no choice. But would you want an outlier’s lot for any of your children?”
“What sort of outlier do you mean?” A fine spark of bitterness kindled beneath. Palatan didn’t bother to conceal it; he knew Našobok understood.
Našobok nodded and sighed. “I suppose neither of us has an easy answer. Entirely too complicated.”
“Particularly given what you said in Council.”
“What I said?”
Palatan’s thoughts were all too lengthy, too complex to easily parse. Instead he snugged Našobok’s arm in his, to the plain dismay of a trio of elder males—Alekšu seems entirely too familiar with that outlier!—and started walking again. He kept his voice low, quiet as hunting-talk. “You said: ‘Change is coming. Change is here’.” His fingers twitched upon Našobok’s sleeve. “Fire lay beneath your words.”
“Gah! Fire?” Našobok’s light attempt fell flat. “From a wyrhling?”
“A’io. That, too.”
“Hunh. ‘That, too.’ Which means none of them will listen.” Našobok shook his head, sending a stray lock of bistre over his eyes.
“I’m listening.” Palatan reached forwards, pushed it back. “I will always listen.”
“You always were a stubborn clot.”
“Hunh. Like who else?”
They started walking again, joining the crowd about the Firepits. Several gave hasty way—trepidation or scorn—but neither Našobok nor Palatan gave notice.
Until Našobok, accepting stew and bread from a fem who gave him a friendly enough smile, looked about and shrugged again. “I did think I would have at least seen Tokela.”
Palatan peered at him, unsure of what to say. There truly was no talk for such things—but bodytalk said more than any vocal promise. He leaned his temple against Našobok’s shoulder, regret and understanding.
“Hunh.” Našobok shrugged. “It is what it is. This wyrhling should well be used to ahlóssa running from him by now.”
The drums, until then a comforting background, ramped up into sudden booms. Sharp and penetrating, they echoed against the rocks; were answered by several cries from Overlook
“Come on!” Našobok grabbed Palatan’s arm. “That sounds like a big one!”
INDEED, A big one, but no ship, not this time. A runner had come from downriver, with news of a great, boiling mass of bloodfins making their early run. All fishKin runs provided, but this first one brought everyone together. Vital trade, fresh food source, preserved meat against hard times—and that for everyone, every tribe gathered
