Saga of Menyoral: The Service (5 page)

“If you think you can do it. I can’t.”

“Probably.”
He’d done it on deer plenty of times. Wasn’t easy, but it was a lot quicker. When Wallace had the carcass high enough, he grabbed two fistfuls of the hide and put all his weight into it, peeling it slowly down until it came free.

“Well done!
” Wallace exclaimed. Dingus dropped the floppy hide into the tub with the hooves. When he looked up, he saw Arkady scowling at him, but he found he didn’t much care.

After they finished up with the hog, Wallace clasped wrists with Dingus and went off with Evan and Henry. Dingus walked back to the campsite with a couple of the kidneys, settled himself on the same fallen tree, and
, since he was alone, people-watched while he cooked and ate. He saw a lot of kids, from about Kessa’s age on up, with their Masters. The same way he’d seen down at the hoists, they talked and laughed, kids and adults together—easy, natural, like he could talk with Vandis. Felt good to realize he finally had something normal.

It seemed
as if the whole world walked through that forest: mostly humans, from every corner of Rothganar, and some who weren’t from Rothganar at all. There were men from Rodansk, as tall as he was or taller, wearing long beards with charms and fetishes braided in; men and women from the Monmouths and Kirun whose skin was every shade of brown, from tea with cream to almost black; he even saw a few whose skin and eyes reminded him of almonds. There were some who weren’t human: tiny Trallins from Oasis with white or buttery fur and gigantic, pointed ears set on the tops of their heads; and Ish, with crested heads and short, bowing legs, spidery fingers and long, decorated tails. For a long time, he sat watching. Everyone amazed him, all except for the lone
tulon
with the sheet of silver-blond hair, and the sight of him made Dingus’s stomach clutch.

The
tulon
stopped, arms akimbo, and swept bright eyes around. Dingus shut his eyes and sat still as he would have in a blind, praying he wouldn’t come over.
Don’t see me,
he thought.
Don’t be looking for me.

He heard
soft footfalls, muffled by needles, and forced himself to open his eyes. Vandis wouldn’t want to see him act like a scared little kid. Gripping the bark of the tree until his knuckles whitened, he met the big, sparkling eyes.

“Hello, little brother,” the
tulon
said, in Trader’s—patronizingly, or so it sounded.

“” Dingus returned, in his most scrupulous, perfect
hituleti
. “”

The
tulon
cocked his head to one side. All the silvery hair slid along with the motion. “”

“es, sir.>”

“” he said, and sat down right next to Dingus, too close, but Dingus resisted his urge to slide away. “”

“” His hands worked over the bark. Panic lay sour on his tongue, but he wouldn’t give in. He wouldn’t.

“” Dingus nodded, and Adeon wrinkled his nose. “”

“”

Adeon c
ocked his head again and smiled; it was dazzling on his
hitul
-pretty face. He swept a hand covered with delicate rings through his long hair. Even the way he propped his ankle on one knee was graceful. Right now Dingus felt as oversized, as gawky, as ridiculous as he’d ever felt back home, and he hated it more.

“” Adeon said, “”

Stiffly, Dingus said, “”

“”

“”

“”

“”

“… his eyes!>” He laughed at his own awful joke, and Dingus kind of laughed, too. “” Adeon said all this very fast. He propped an elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand, gazing at Dingus with intent excitement.

“” Dingus said after a moment, bl
inking through his amazement.
You’re not gonna pick on me?
he thought, but then shook his head to clear it. “”

“”

“”

Adeon wrinkled his nose again. “”

“”

“” he repeated, shaking his silvery head. Dingus noticed that he shed pal
e-blond hair, especially when he played with it, which he reached up to do again now. “”

Dingus nodded, feeling easier. He hadn’t realized anybody even knew where Thundering Hills was, let alone what it was like. “”

“”

“” Dingus admitted. “”

Adeon was still laughing over that when Vandis rushed up, looking harried.

“Oh, good, you found him,” he said to the
tulon
. “Do you have anything on for dinner, Dingus?”

“I did some kidneys and taters. There’s plenty left, you want some?”

“Please,” Vandis said, and Dingus got up to fill him a bowl.

“”

“”

“”

Adeon beamed his dazzling
tulon
smile. “Farewell, Vandis. Try not to work too hard.”

Vandis nodded, deep in his kidneys and tat
ers, and raised a hand. When Adeon left, Vandis chewed, swallowed, and asked, “I probably caught about one word in three of what you guys were saying just then. So, what’d you think?” He stuffed his mouth again.

“Of Adeon, you mean?”

At Vandis’s nod, Dingus considered. He raised one finger and circled it by his temple. Vandis almost choked laughing. “He’s a whack-a-doo, all right,” Vandis said when he got his food swallowed, “but he’s a good guy, never doubt it. He’s been a Knight for about six hundred years. Has to get the leaf tattooed again every fifty or so.”

“Neat,” Dingus said, grinning. “He wasn’t
the way I expected. He said my blood was better than his. I never heard that before.”

Vandis’
s eyebrows pulled together.

Dingus poured out a cup of coffee for Vandis and explained. “On account of Eagle Eye and Wolf’s Eye and all.”

“Ah,” Vandis sighed after a big swallow of the coffee. “Wolf’s Eye?”

“I’ll tell you the story if you want.”

“I wish I had time, kid. I’ve got more meetings, all afternoon and most of the evening. Don’t forget to tell it to me, though. I want to hear.” Vandis shoved in the last bite of kidneys and taters, swilled the rest of the coffee, and handed the cup back. “Can I get a refill?”

Dingus got him one, wishing he’d stay a little longer.

“Thanks.” He patted Dingus’s shoulder, wiped his mouth on his handkerchief, and strode off, drinking from his mug. “Don’t just bum around in camp all afternoon! Go find something to do!” he called back.

Dingus rolled his eyes and gathered up the dishes. He scrubbed them off with some water from
one of the buckets and a bit of soap from the pot, dried them, and went to his pack. When he opened it, he found what he wanted right away—he kept telling Kessa that was why a pack had to be organized.

The book was right at the top, nestled up to a big ball of twine. It was a treasure of a book, and not just because it was the first gift Vandis had given him.
Most of the books in the library at Elwin’s Ford had been a lot bigger and heavier; this one was the smallest, and the most beautiful book he’d seen in his life: a thick but portable atlas. It was supposed to be for studying for the Quiz Trial day after tomorrow, but he liked to think of it as a list of places he would one day go. Thundering Hills wasn’t in it, even on the detailed map of Wealaia, but he didn’t really look at those two pages much. His favorite map was the one in the middle, a color world map with the oceans, lakes, and rivers done in blue, the forests in green, the deserts in tan. He got himself the last cup of coffee and sat down on the log, his back to the camp, to look at it for a while. That way he could say he’d been studying, but it was in fact pure pleasure.

Dingus took a couple sips of the cof
fee, but after that he forgot about it, trying to imagine the places on the map. Every so often he’d flip the pages to look at the more detailed maps of somewhere; he had the book memorized, really, but that didn’t matter.

After a
while he fetched himself Kessa’s share of dinner, since she hadn’t shown up to claim it, and kept reading. Books weren’t something he’d expected to enjoy, but then, Grandma had only three: a book of recipes she’d made herself; a copy of
The Scripture of Mother and Father
, the
hitul
holy book; and an almanac in Trader’s. She’d taught him to read with them, but they weren’t exciting, not like the books in the way station library. He wished he’d dared to ask for one of the history books, too, maybe the one about Brightwater-Lightsbridge relations for the past eight hundred years; interesting stuff, that, especially when he thought about their latest war, the one they’d been having for almost three years now over trading rights with the Monmouth Islands.

He read the book of maps all afternoon and hardly noticed himself shifting around to stay with the changing light, but eventually he had to stop, partly because the trees blocked what light was left, and partly because it was about time to start supper. The fire had burned down to embers. He was just wondering if he should cook for Vandis and Kessa when Wallace came around. It surprised him, but the pleasure he felt at seeing the other boy surprised him more.

“You want to come by our camp for supper? We cooked too much, and Evan said I could invite you if I wanted.” Wallace beamed through his beard. “Henry’s doing up raisin pudding for afters, he does the best pudding.”

Weirdly enough, Dingus did want to. “I don’t know if Vandis is gonna want anything.”

“Oh,” Wallace said, that phlegmy sound again, “let him fend for himself. He always did before.”

Dingus grinned. Wallace seemed to have that effect. “Just let me bank the fire.”

Going with Wallace turned out to be a good decision. Lady Pearl and Francine sat around with Evan while Henry, who Dingus learned was Evan’s Junior and about to make Senior on Longday, dished up johnnycake and pork livers and sweetbreads with gravy. The raisin pudding tasted as good as Wallace’s promise: sweet and spiced, with fat raisins soaked in brandy and a soft texture just this side of mushy. It came with a generous pat of butter on top, which melted down into the crevices and spoon holes, gilding the lily. There was plenty of food for everyone, even with Wallace’s putting away two helpings of everything, so Dingus ended up having thirds.

“Good supper. Thanks for inviting me,” he said when the dishes were all cleared up. “See you guys around.”

“Aren’t you coming to the party?” Francine asked.

There’s a party?
His experience of parties wasn’t exactly broad, but the ones he’d been to, he wished he hadn’t. He shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Wallace said, “And what were your plans? There’s always a Squire party, didn’t you know that? Everyone’ll be there.”

Everyone. Arkady,
he thought, and swallowed hard. “Uh, I was gonna…”
Think, think fast.
“…study,” he decided. “You know, for the Quiz.”

“If you don’t know it now, you never will.” The beard split in another grin. “C’mon with Franny and me, you won’t be regretting it.”

“I don’t know anybody.”