The Shepherd Kings (96 page)

He did not explain or excuse himself. All the brothers were
gone, and many of the sisters, too, on this night of all the year; but the
wives were there still. They could go nowhere, do nothing, till their husband
gave them leave.

Sarama’s arrival sent them into a flurry. She had never
understood them, never comprehended minds and spirits so utterly encompassed by
the walls of a tent. That there were factions among them she knew; she had been
subjected to no few of those in the times when she was sent to visit her
father’s tent. But she was part of none of them. In time and with her silent
persistence, they had learned to keep a respectful distance; to conceal either
envy or rancor, and never to bid her choose sides in one of their wrangles.

They knew in their bellies what she had had to tell their
husband in raw half-shaped words. The women always knew. Each met her eyes
boldly or looked circumspectly away, as her character dictated. No one fell in
worship at her feet. Such was not done in the tents among the women.

They brought her the new thing that Agni had spoken of, the
thing called wine: dark and potent and richly sweet, almost too sweet, and
headier by far than kumiss. Sarama was not sure what she thought of it. It was
too strong, maybe. Too full of the spirit that reft men of their wits.

Agni drank as little as she did, she noticed, though he had
made great vaunt of its excellence. Agni was not the toplofty young fool he too
often liked to seem.

He caught her staring at him; stared back hard, eyes
gleaming amber beneath ruddy brows, and laughed for gladness. “Ah, sister,” he
said. “It’s good to have you here again.”

Sarama could not say that it was good to be in this place;
not with such tidings as she had brought. Still she could say, and say truly,
“I’m glad to rest eyes on you again, my brother. Even if I do have to crane my
neck to do it.”

He grinned, inordinately proud of himself.

He might be as tall as the sky, but she knew a trick or two.
She fell on him while he basked in his own grandeur, toppled him with
gratifying ease, and sat on him till he cried for mercy. Which he did soon
enough: and that was all as it used to be, as it well should be. Even he, in
the end, was persuaded to admit to that.

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