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careful formal speech and hoped for the best. If this Temueng decided he
wanted his own troupe of enter-tainers, there was almost nothing they could
do. Running meant giving up everything and he wouldn t do that as long as
there was the smallest chance he could work himself free.
 Stay here, the jamar said.  You won t lose by it.
 A generous offer, jamar Hamardan saõ jura. Taguiloa spoke slowly, still
hunting for a way out.  If I may, we need more than a place to keep the rain
off and food in our bellies .... He risked the touch of commonspeech after a
sidelong glance at the Temueng.  We are at our best this year, saõ jura. If I
may, we have dreams ... but that is nothing to you, saõ jura. I waste your
time with my bab-bling, your pardon, saõ jura. He lowered his eyes, bowed his
head and waited.
The Temueng cleared his throat.  No, no, he said.  No bother. Silence.
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Taguiloa glanced quickly at the Temueng. The big man looked troubled. He
turned his head suddenly, caught Taguiloa watching him.  One week, he said.
 My jamika grieves. He half-swallowed the words.  Our eldest son is with the
forces in Croaldhu, our youngest was called to Andurya Durat. He looked past
Taguiloa as if he no longer was aware of him.  He is her heart, the breath in
her throat. A good lad for all that, rides like he s part of his horse,
open-handed with his friends, spirited and impa-tient. Maybe a little
heedless, but he s young. He cleared his throat again.  You ... Again he
searched for a word but settled for the slightly derogatory term used by
temuengs for Hina females.  Your ketchin, they should keep the jamika
distracted. She was pleased by you last night. She smiled when you did that
thing on the rail and the rest of it ... well, she slept without ... He broke
off, frowned.  Give her some time away from grieving, showman, and you can ask
what you will.
Taguiloa looked away from the huge man stumbling over his love for his cow of
a wife and for that calf who sounded like most young male Temuengs, arrogant,
thought-less and as unpleasant to his own kind as he was to those who had the
misfortune to be in his power. Never mind that, he told himself, a week s
better than I hoped. He swept into a low bow.  Of your kindness; saõ jura,
cer-tainly a week.
The jamar Hamardan turned to leave, turned back.  One of the ketchin, she s a
seer?
 One can sometimes see past a day, past a night, saõ jura.
 My jamika will ask the ketcha to read for her. I do not inquire how the
ketcha reads or if she knows more than how to judge a face, whether she lies
or speaks what truth she sees. I do not care, showman. Tell your seer to make
my jamika contented. Do you hear me?
 I hear you, saõ jura.
The jamar hesitated another minute in the doorway, then stumped out.
Taguiloa stood rubbing at the back of his neck with fingers that trembled.
Relief, apprehension, anger churned in him. A week. And who said it would end
then? One week, then another, then another. It had to end there. Had to. He
touched the shoulder where he d felt his double-natured patron riding and
wondered if this was one of Tungjii s dubious gifts. He scanned his immediate
past to see where he d forgot and invoked his god. Noth-ing but ordinary chaos
and the usual curses quickly forgot-ten. He forced himself to relax and went
searching for the others to tell them what had happened.
TAGUILOA PULLED on a knitted black silk body suit like the white one he used
in his act, then he slipped from his room and began his nightly prowl about
the jarnar s House, listening for whatever he could pick up, driven as much by
survival needs as by curiosity. The week was winding to a finish, the testing
of jamar Hamardan s good will was closer. He might let them go, or he could
insist they stay yet another short while and then another, nib-bling their
time away, never letting them go.
He moved through the maze of halls in the wing where the troupe was housed,
heading to the storage alcove he d found the first night he d prowled the
House. A pair of late rambling servants forced him to duck into the shadowy
doorless recess, only to discover they were bound for that same alcove. He
cursed the libidinous pair and searched for some place to hide. They probably
wouldn t raise a row if they saw him, just take off to find another place to
scratch their itch, but there d be gossip later that would work around to
someone in authority and make trouble for the troupe. There were narrow
shelves set from the bottom of one wall. He went up them and tried to fold [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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