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a slop bucket, but there was nothing he could do about it until he got to the
well, which seemed, suddenly, a long walk away.
"They're waiting for you," Yohan informed him, dropping a hide-wrapped travel
flask into his lap. "You're the one who knows Urik and its templars."
He unstoppered the flask and passed the opening quickly beneath his nose: old
habits, again. Mention had been made of Urik and templars, and when
Urik was in a templar's mind, no amount of caution was excessive.
But the piercing scent of bitterroot filled his nostrils, and he
took a full-mouth swig. The days-old taste vanished. After another
pull, he returned a half-emptied flask with a grunt of thanks.
Yohan tossed him a freshly washed and still damp shirt. Six days' of unshaved
beard snagged the cloth as he tugged it over his head. He stroked
his chin with a thumb. If he didn't want to face the druids
looking like squatter-scum, he needed a lengthy session with a razor and lump
of pumice.
The veteran dwarf extended his arm and made a fist, having apparently
read his thoughts. "No rime for that.
They're waiting."
"I don't understand why they're waiting," he complained. I've got nothing to
say. Akashia knows what I think."
"And what do you think, Just-Plain Pavek?" The question held a hint of
challenge.
He grasped the dwarf's wrist and gained his feet with a clean jerk. "Burn it
all, every last bush and seed, then pray no one comes looking. Same as I
thought last night. Akashia thinks otherwise. I told her I won't argue with
her.
I'm not getting myself caught between her and Telhami."
All the bachelor bedding was neatly rolled against the outer walls as they
walked down the center of the long hut. All except his own, which needed
airing, and-he counted twice to be certain-Ruari's, which hadn't been touched
since someone spread it out the previous evening. "Where's he this morning?"
"You won't get caught between Akashia and Grandmother," Yohan ignored
his question completely. "They agree with each other."
Quraite was quiet outside the bachelors' hut, with no visible signs of the
recent festivities. A few farmers were using the morning's last few cool
moments to do the heavy work of arranging the evening's fire in the
pit-hearth. They hailed Yohan and him with unusual friendliness-or so he
thought; he still had trouble measuring these things.
The men said nothing until they reached the well where they were beyond
anyone's earshot. Pavek stretched the night-kinks out of his shoulders raising
a bucket of cool water to the surface.
"Why wait for me, if the women agree with each other? Why not just load up the
bugs and start riding toward
Urik?"
He waited a moment for the dwarf's answer, and when none seemed
forthcoming-as none had been to his question about Ruari-he bent over the
bucket to wash his face. "I'm the one who says when the bugs are
loaded-"
Pavek continued splashing water on his cheeks "-and when we leave for Urik.
And
I'm the one who wants to hear you speak your mind beneath Grandmother's roof."
He sprayed an unwitting mouthful of water over the edge of the bucket. "You
what?"
" agree with you, that's all. Quraite's been sending zarneeka to Urik since
before Grandmother was born, or so
I
she says. And she says, too, that Quraite's not going to fail its obligations
just because some Lion's-pet templar has dealt himself into the exchange. I
say it's all dangerous nonsense. Athas isn't the place it was before
Grandmother was born. Things could change now and stay changed for another
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thousand years, and maybe wind up worse than they
were. Whatever good Ral's Breath does for the rabble, it isn't enough to risk
hauling zarneeka seeds to Urik now, or ever again. You know it; I know it.
And the guardian knows it, too. But Quraite's used to my saying 'burn the
whole crop.' I've never been in favor of it. Damn city doesn't have anything
we need; we're surrounded by salt, no point in trading for it!"
"The guardian?" Pavek asked, after wiping his chin on his sleeve.
"With the guardian against it, they can't seriously be thinking of taking
zarneeka to Urik again."
Yohan gestured helplessly. "I only know what they tell me-" he corrected
himself "-what Ruari told me after he talked to Kashi. It wouldn't be the
first time the women and the guardian have disagreed."
The rope winch whined as Pavek let the bucket plummet down the well shaft to
the water. "They disobey the guardian?" he asked, trying-and failing
utterly-to convince himself that this made any sort of sense. "There are
rotting bones in Telhami's grove. Near as I can tell, this guardian just
reaches out of the ground with roots for fingers, and grabs the ones it
doesn't like-"
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