Tortall Read Free Page B

everyone, so my sister’s name would go untainted.
    In order to hear the many people who came to speak with him during the day, the chief had the pavilion floor raised up a foot from the ground. He and his companions could then sit under the shelter of the canopy and talk with those who stood on the beaten dirt before them. We moved to the front, passed along by the people who knew why we were there. Iyaka clutched my hand and Mama’s and would not let go. I had to move into line behind her as she stood with Mama, Papa, and our chief.
    Awochu bowed to the man who had to be Chief Rusom. I glanced at the man on the chief’s right and almost gasped like an ignorant country girl. I had never seen a man so pale-skinned. Everyone in my life was brown or black. Some of the fair’s visitors were a lighter brown than I had ever seen before, but it was still brown. This man—this man was
white
.
    He had brown-black hair, straighter than the hair ofanyone I knew. His eyes were brown-black,
close
to the color of normal eyes. He didn’t dress like a normal man, though. He wore a loose cloth jacket and a garment made of two cloth tubes that covered each of his legs, instead of a long skirt. Instead of sandals he wore soft leather shoes that covered his feet and legs all the way to his knees. Only his hands looked right. They were hard, muscled, and scarred, the hands of a warrior. His neck was muscled like a bull’s.
    “Do you know who that is?” Ogin had worked his way up behind me. I looked at him. His eyes gleamed as he looked on the white man. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to stand still.
    “No, but he looks very sick,” I whispered.
    “Pf,” Ogin said, pushing me a little. “You know the stories of the Shang warriors, who fight and kill with bare hands? That man is Vah-lah-nee, the Shang Falcon. He is a great warrior!”
    He looked like a man, not a legend, to me. “He is a horse who will burn and bloat and explode in the sun,” I replied. “Put him back in the oven and let him cook until he is done.” I looked at the platform and got a very bad feeling. Awochu had left his blue silk girl beside the platform and climbed on it to go to the man who sat at Chief Rusom’s left. He kissed this man on both scarred cheeks. This man wore gold on his arms and fingers. He also looked enough like Awochu to be his father.
    Worse, there was a hospitality table placed between his seat and Rusom’s. He and the chief shared food and drink, like allies or friends.
    “Awochu, why have you brought these people?” asked the man Awochu had kissed, his voice filling the air. “Why do you disturb Chief Rusom?”
    Awochu bowed to Chief Rusom. “Great Chief,” he said with respect, “I come to you as a wronged man. Last year at this fair I was overtaken by a madness that made me want that girl as my bride.” He pointed at Iyaka. “After I stole a kiss from her, I could not sleep or eat unless I was with her. I offered her my name and the wealth of my family. I begged my father and mother to accept the match with an ordinary plains girl.” He shook his head in sorrow. “When we returned to our own great village, our shaman saw the traces of magic on me. He kept me in his hut for nine days and nine nights to cleanse me of the evil spell. He told me—he will tell you, if you ask it—that the girl had painted charm color on her lips. When I stole that kiss, magic made me hers. It made me desire her to the point that I had signed a marriage contract with her family.
    “Great Chief Rusom, is it not the law that no contract entered into while under the influence of magic is binding? For so my honored father explained the law to me. I owe this girl nothing. She cannot have me, so she accuses me of a false claim, in order to steal my father’s cattle.”
    “I do not steal!” cried Iyaka. “I happily release him from the contract. I do not want a man who is so fickle or so easily swayed.” She glared at Awochu’s