Renegade's Magic
Moma smiled. It came over her wrinkled face slowly but it was a wide smile. For such an old woman, her teeth were very good. “That she would,” she agreed, pleased and thoughtful. “That she would.”
Something seemed to have been settled between the two women, something I did not grasp. They were both very pleased with themselves, as if they had reached an important accord. After that exchange, they traded, but in an oddly congenial manner. I sensed that Moma gave us very good value and she insisted on choosing for Olikea the largest dried mushrooms and the preserved herbs with the best color. She carefully folded our purchases into little packets made from woven reeds. The packets filled a substantial net bag. Some of Lisana’s jewelry she took in exchange, but the most of it Olikea returned to the pouch. At the last, however, Olikea held out a pair of large silver hoop earrings rimmed with drops of amber.
“Always you have been so kind to me,” Olikea told her. “Ever since I was a little girl, you always had a kind word for me. Please accept these as a gift, as a sign of our friendship. I know it would please my Great One if you wore them as a sign of the warmth he feels toward you.”
Olikea held them out in her palm, not to Moma but to me. Subtly she jostled her hip against mine. Soldier’s Boy took her hint. He lifted the earrings from her hands. Holding them delicately, so they dangled appealingly, he offered them to Moma. “I would be very pleased to see you wearing these.”
She lifted one hand from her cane. Her fingers were like a careful bird’s beak as she plucked the proffered earrings from his fingers. She did not hesitate. “Help me, please,” she begged Olikea in a hushed voice, and the young woman obliged. The silver and amber earrings dwarfed all the ones the old woman already wore. They glittered in the sunlight. Moma gave her head a slight shake and the earrings swung against her neck. “All will notice these,” she said with quiet satisfaction.
“That they will, and by them know how kindly you have treated this Great One and how highly he regards you.”
Moma nodded her head low to me and then reminded Olikea, “But you have not told me his name.”
“He has two, and both lie oddly on my tongue. The first is Soldier’s Boy. The second is Nevare Burvelle.”
“I fear these are not lucky names,” Moma replied with concern.
“I am one who believes that a man makes his own luck. I do not fear my name,” Soldier’s Boy said aloud.
“Wisely spoken,” Olikea observed, but her quick glance entreated silence from him. “And now we must go,” she continued to Moma.
“Will you journey back to your kin-clan tonight? Or stay another night near the Trading Place?”
Olikea appeared thoughtful. “I think we shall spend another night here, if only to enjoy the foods of the market, and to look at the beach and the water when the evening light is kinder to us.” She paused and added significantly, “I think we will take our evening meal there, if anyone cares to seek us out.”
Moma gave a happy sigh. “I think that is wise. Good evening to you, then.”
And yes, as we departed, it was evening. We had passed the whole day in our trading and Soldier’s Boy was suddenly both very weary and ravenously hungry. My feet hurt and my leg muscles ached from walking on the sandy paths. I felt a pang of dismay at how much farther we must walk and how long I must wait either to eat or rest. Soldier’s Boy had a more direct solution.
“I am going to go sit on the rocks and soak my feet in the seawater pools,” he announced. “Find Likari. Have him bring me food there. Hot food, and wine of the forest to drink. Do not be long.”
I saw a ripple of surprise pass over Olikea’s face. It occurred to me that she did not comprehend completely that Soldier’s Boy was the one she must deal with now, and that the compliant Nevare Burvelle was beyond her reach. She licked her lips, thought for only an instant, and then replied. “Yes. That is good. We will attend you shortly.” She took a short breath and then added cautiously, “If anyone seeks to speak to you, you should tell them that they must wait until your feeder has fed you.”
“Of course,” he replied, as if he had never considered otherwise. And then they parted, with Olikea hurrying toward the food booths and vendors and Soldier’s Boy leaving the path to walk toward the beckoning sea.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE INVITATION
He crossed a gray sandy beach to an outcropping of darker stone. There he moved unerringly to a place where the rounded stones were interspersed with tide pools. The thin sun of autumn had not much warmed the water, but cold as it was, I am sure it was still much warmer than the waves that crashed and rolled against the outer beach.