eyelid. What does that mean? How can I ever expect the tryst to follow a man with a sorcerer for a mother?” Honakura had no idea. He had worried about that since it
happened.
Before he could reply, however, they were interrupted. Nnanji and Thana stood before them, hand in hand. Thana had her eyes demurely lowered, her pearl necklace shimmering with a virginal white glow like dawn over the River. Nnanji’s face was as red as his hair, and his eyes bulged with excitement and
joy,
“My lord mentor!” he shouted. “Your prote”g humbly requests permission to get married.”
ttttt
The party began at once.
Of course Wallie gave his permission, choking down misgivings over the romantic, idealistic Nnanji being bound to that mercenary minx. Ignorant of the marriage customs of the People, he was carefully coached and then prompted by his sniggering pro,tg as he formally negotiated with Thana’s mentor for the betrothal, tendering one copper as bride price. Brota accepted, but he suspected that she doubted the wisdom of the match as much
as he did.
Even Wallie thought Thana worth more than one copper, but apparently it was that or serious bargaining—and then Brota would have taken everything both swordsmen possessed.
There was much hugging and kissing and laughter as the family acquiesced. The ship was at anchor, and the sun god would set in a couple of hours—of course the party must begin at once. Tomiyano produced some vials of the sorcerers’ ensor,celed wine, whose effects could be heard and seen almost immediately. Oligarro’s mandolin and Holiyi’s pan pipes and young Sinboro on his drums... mere was dancing and singing. Children screamed with excitement as ancient Lina brought forth delicacies from some secret store—crystallized fruits and
knots of preserved ginger and yet,stranger sweetmeats that Wallie could not identify.
He wondered how long engagements lasted in the World and what elaborate ritual the marriage itself would require. For him to say good morning to another Seventh required forty words and six gestures. On that scale a wedding service could take hours. And what gift would a highrank swordsman give his protege? Not a microwave oven, certainly...
He danced with all the women and all the girls. He joined in some of the more raucous River shanties. He laughed at the bawdy bantering and Nnanji’s boastful ripostes. He grew steadily more miserable.
The calm persisted, the sun god faded down into luminous mist, and the putrid sulfur stink from the volcanoes dissipated, leaving only the pungent aroma of the ox hides in the hold. The sky began to darken. Eventually Wallie slipped away and climbed atone to the fo’c’sle, where he could lean against the rail beyond the capstan and gaze out over still waters. He listened to the musk and laughter and sometimes, when they momentarily waned, to the playful slap of wavelets against the bow. The mist grew cool and damp against his skin.
A free man could not marry a slave.
He brooded over this injustice and at last decided that a married protege was just one more tiny worry to add to all his others. He began to list them again in his mind. The catalog never seemed to shrink, it only grew longer. Nnanji himself was becoming a pest, demanding that he be allowed to try for sixth rank, and Thana would add her nagging now, seeking to further her fiancees career.
Honakura had instigated this stupid engagement! Wallie had overheard just enough of that whispered conversation to be sure. Certainly he had heard the word “prophecy” and he knew that must refer to the story of flcondorina’s red,haired brother. The old man’s reticence on the subject was ominous, especially now that Wallie had wormed the other story out of him, and that other Story had so obviously matched Katanji. What could have been prophesied about Nnanji that Wallie must not be told? He wished he had been able to hear more of what the old man had been telling Thana.
He
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