He sat down heavily on a throne of stone and grunted as he tugged off his new boots and peeled down the woolen socks. My feet had never seemed so far away from my body as they did when he bent over his huge belly to reach them. He had to hold his breath, for the action pinched his lungs. He tossed both boots and socks casually to one side and then sat up with a groan. He took a long breath and then slowly lowered his feet into the water.
His foot basin was a tidal pool, fringed with dark seaweed and mysterious with foreign life. As his feet entered, the flowers on the bottom of the pool abruptly closed and retreated to their roots. I had never seen such a thing happen and was startled, but Soldier’s Boy only laughed with pleasure and lowered his feet into the icy water. The cold was a shock and he gasped and lifted his feet, but then dipped them in again and then out. After several such treatments, the water did not seem so cold, and he lowered his feet to soak them. He sat staring out over the moving water. Then he spoke aloud. “We could be very powerful.”
I became small and still, a rabbit crouching in the underbrush, pretending to be invisible.
“If you joined with me willingly now, I do not think there is anyone who could stand against us. Know that if you do not willingly join me, eventually you will still become a part of me. Bit by bit, I expect you shall erode and dissolve into my awareness. What will you be a year from now, or five, Nevare? A discontented memory in the back of my mind? A small touch of bitterness when I look at my children? A pool of loneliness when something reminds me of your sister or your friends? What will you have gained? Nothing. So come. Be a part of me now.”
“No.” I thought the word at him fiercely.
“As you will,” he replied without rancor. He turned his head and looked back toward the market stalls. He widened his nostrils and took a deep appreciative breath of the salty air and of the mouthwatering food smells that rode on it. His mouth ran with anticipation and he gave himself over to thinking of roast pork so tender it would fall from the skewer, of crisply browned fowl cooked with sea salt and stuffed with onion bulbs, of apple-bread thick with nuts and dripping melted butter. He sighed happily, enjoying the anticipation, relishing even his hunger. Soon he would eat. He would eat with great pleasure, savoring every bite, knowing as he enjoyed the taste and the aroma that it was contributing to his power, to his well-being, to his reserves of strength. He contemplated the coming meal with a simple and joyous satisfaction that I don’t think I’d ever taken in any experience. I knew a moment of greenest envy, and then my small emotion was washed away in his leap of pleasure.
His wait was over. Down the beach, leaping impatiently ahead and then doubling back, came Likari. He capered like a dog enjoying a long-promised walk. His trading must have gone well. He wore a peculiar cap, red and white striped, with a long tail. At the end of it was a set of bells that jingled as he pranced. Behind him came two young men. Between them they bore a long plank as if it were a stretcher for an injured man. Upon it were bowls and cups and covered plates. At the sight, Soldier’s Boy swallowed and then could not help but smile. Behind the food bearers, walking more decorously than Likari, came Olikea. She had sold off her Gernian dresses, and wore now a long loose robe of bright scarlet, gathered with a sturdy leather belt. The belt was studded with silver, and at every stride, black boots trimmed with silver flashed into view. Behind her came three servants bearing her day’s purchases. Soldier’s Boy watched with pleasure as the parade drew nearer.
He was not alone in his anticipation. Great gray gulls, on seeing the approaching food, circled overhead, tipping their wings to hover over it. Their raucous cries filled the air overhead. One, bolder than the rest, swooped in to try to steal from the feast bowls, but Olikea gave a shout and sent him fleeing.
Likari spotted him and ran ahead, full of smiles. He reached Soldier’s Boy, dropped down to the ground beside him, and breathlessly said, “We bring you a feast, Great One!”
The boy had not overstated it. By the time the men carrying the stretcher of food reached them, Likari had set up stones to support it. The men carefully lowered their burden and then stood back from it. Olikea had arrived by then. She paid them off and dismissed them with a flourish, telling them to return later to retrieve their master’s dishes and cutlery. The other serving men set down their burdens. Olikea dismissed them as well, telling them to come back later to assist us in carrying our purchases back to our camp and to bring a beast to pack the kegs of oil. Only one she kept, telling him to keep the gulls from troubling us as we ate. As the rest trudged off down the beach, Olikea sat down gracefully beside our makeshift table. Soldier’s Boy had eyes only for the steaming vessels of food and the tall glass flask of deep red wine, but my mind was chasing itself in circles. I had always thought that beyond the mountains, our king would find only primitive tribes to trade with. But here we were sitting down to a rustic picnic served on glass and ceramic dishes brought to us by servants of some master who operated a food booth. I felt anger at myself that I had so misread the Specks and their trading partners. The culture and civilization on this side of the mountains might be vastly different from Gernia, but I was coming to see that it was no less sophisticated and organized. I’d been blinded, I decided, by my attitudes about technology. These people who walked naked in the forest and lived so simply by summer enjoyed all the trappings of a different sort of civilization in winter. Obviously these people had followed a different path, but my assumptions that they were lesser, that they were simple primitive folk in desperate need of Gernian civilizing, reflected only my own ignorance.