Crystal Gorge (The Dreamers 3)
Page 8“What an unnatural sort of thing,” Red-Beard said in mock disapproval.
“Be nice,” Zelana chided him.
“Sorry,” he replied, although he didn’t really mean it.
“The nation of Tonthakan lies along the western coast of my Domain,” Dahlaine continued, “and it’s very similar in terrain—and culture—to sister Zelana’s Domain. The mountains are steep and rugged, the forests are dense and mostly evergreens, and there are several varieties of deer roaming through those forests. The Tonthakans are primarily hunters, and they’re quite good with their bows. I’m sure that Longbow and Red-Beard will feel pretty much at home in that region—except that the winters are longer and colder than they are farther to the south. It won’t be quite as noticeable in the autumn, but the days are longer in the summer up there and shorter in the winter.” He glanced at Keselo. “I’m sure our learned young friend from the Trogite Empire can explain that for us.”
“It has to do with the tilt of our world, Lord Dahlaine,” Keselo replied. “Our world isn’t exactly plumb and square in relation to the sun, and that’s what accounts for the seasons. She spins, and that’s what gives us days and nights, and she travels around the sun in what scholars call an ‘orbit.’ If she didn’t spin, half the world would live in perpetual daylight, and the other half would live in the dark, but it’s that slight lopsidedness that gives us the seasons.”
“I’ve always known that there was something wrong with this world,” Rabbit said with no hint of a smile.
“I wouldn’t really call it ‘wrong,’ Rabbit,” Keselo told him. “If it weren’t for the changing of the seasons, I don’t think anything alive could be here. Perpetual summer might sound nice, but I don’t think it really would be.”
“Pushing on, then,” Dahlaine said. “The central region of my Domain is a large area of meadowland that’s primarily grassland with very few trees.”
“I don’t think I quite follow you there, Longbow,” Dahlaine said with a slightly puzzled look.
“It has to do with certain customs in Zelana’s Domain,” Longbow replied. “There are certain tasks that we call ‘men’s work’ and others called ‘women’s work.’ Men are supposed to hunt and fight wars, and women are supposed to plant vegetables and cook supper. It might sound sort of fair, but it seems to give the men of any tribe a lot of spare time to sit around talking about hunting and fighting. When the fire-mountains won the first war for us, Red-Beard’s village, Lattash, was buried under melted rock, so the people had to move to a place on down the bay from the old one. There was open land that should have given the women plenty of room for planting—except that it was covered with thick sod. Cutting away the sod would normally be ‘women’s work,’ but Old-Bear, the chief of my tribe, told us that he had once visited that grassland you just described, and that while he was there, he saw the lodges made of sod rather than tree limbs. Building lodges is ‘men’s work,’ so after Red-Beard’s tribe had settled in their new village, the men built the traditional tree-limb lodges, but the wind blew quite a bit harder where the new village was located, and one night, all of the lodges were blown down.”
“That must have been a very strong wind,” the farmer Omago said.
“Not quite that strong,” Longbow replied with a grin. “Red-Beard and I gave it a bit of help. Then the next morning we put on long faces and told the men of the tribe that tree-limb lodges weren’t strong enough to stand up in ‘windy-village,’ and we suggested sod instead. The men grumbled a bit, but they went on out into the meadow and started digging up sod for all they were worth, while the women came along behind them planting beans and other things that are good to eat. Nobody was offended, and nobody will starve to death this coming winter.”
“You two are a couple of very devious people,” Omago’s wife, Ara, observed.
“One should always do one’s best when the well-being of the tribe’s involved,” Red-Beard replied sententiously.
The pretty lady actually laughed.
“Something like that would be very difficult to aim, it seems to me,” Rabbit said.
“The Matans practice a lot, and they’re good enough to bring home a lot of bison meat.”
“That’s what counts,” Longbow said. “Their spearheads are stone, aren’t they?”
“Of course,” Dahlaine replied. “The only metal we have anything to do with here in the Land of Dhrall is gold—and I don’t think gold would make very good spearheads.”
“I’d say it’s almost time for me to go to work again,” Rabbit added with a glum sort of look.
“About all that’s left now is ‘crazy land,’ right?” Red-Beard suggested, being careful not to smile.
“Does he always have to do that, Zelana?” Dahlaine asked his sister.
“Turn everything into a joke.”
“It keeps him happy, Dahlaine, and happy people are nicer than gloomy ones. Haven’t you noticed that before?”
He gave her a hard look, but she just smiled.
“All right,” Dahlaine continued. “The nation on the east of my Domain is Atazakan, and as our friend who hasn’t yet learned how to shave just suggested, the ruler of that region is fairly insane—which isn’t really his fault, since the last five generations of his family have also been crazy. The current ruler of Atazakan has taken crazy out to the far end, though. He’s absolutely convinced that he’s god. He goes out to the public square in the city of Palandor every morning and gives the sun his permission to rise. Then, late in the afternoon, he goes back to the same place and permits her to set.”