The hall of the building was prepared for a feast for few. On the stage were three musicians drawing an air of relaxation and gladness. A low table surrounded by sitting cushions was covered in bowls of foods from a variety of fruits, vegetables and meats, many of them covered in thick sauces ranging from sweet to unbearably spicy.
Lirran sat with the family of the First Phalapatr and listened to his stories, his description of the land around them, how the Phalapatr were the heads of families that held trees and orchards in their care for hundreds of years, during which they made sure to make their produce fair and good for all who partook in it and forming an important counter-weight to more aristocratic or clerical forces such as the Prabhu and the Vivekah, the counsellors in the tall cloth hats, who guarded the scriptures and laws of the people of Argivi.
Lirran answered these stories with how it reminded him of the freemen of Ulsol who still owned the land they worked, as opposed to the peasants such as his own parents, who had to rent their fields from their liege under heavy taxation.
All the while, Lirran noticed a will underlying it all, a sort of preparation to turn the feast into something else. The generous pourings of fruity wine into his cup appeared too obvious, but he still felt more beneath the will of the people around him. Underneath his very feet lurked the will of an entire world. He noticed that as well tamed and formed the trees and other plants around him were, they still had their own desires. Cracks appeared in the facade as if it had not been taken care of for a time and allowed something to seep through. And now it also focussed on him, a foreigner.
Drupada’s voice tore him from his contemplation abck to the uppermost layer of his awareness. “Say, wise Novice, there is something we wish to ask of you.”
Lirran could only raise an interested eyebrow.
“You see, the reason why you were taken as an intruder so eagerly is that our town has been the subject of tensions ever since an important person of our community died, namely the seer who acted as a medium to the old heart of the forest. It is suspected that he was killed by another faction to weaken us and prepare an invasion. But I believe the solution lies in a peaceful one to find a replacement by the guidance of the spirits.”
Lirran had a bad gut feeling as to where this discussion was headed and the absence of his Navigator at the table worried him. He had to be careful before agreeing or rejecting anything in particular. “I cannot be a replacement for your medium, it is not a position as easily filled as a clerk.”
But Drupada chuckled. “Oh no, we would not ask that of you. We know the spirits are the connection to the land. There is a student of the seer who left our community and whom we must find, but he is beyond our reach. I tried urging the Prabhu to send out scouts, but was unsuccessful. Some people suspect this student himself of being behind the death of the old seer. But I believe if you were to ask you to talk to the spirits to point out a replacement of the seer, we could finally move this issue along.”
Lirran had too little experience dealing with spirits, all he had ever been told was to stay away from the old woods of his home town, where only the druids were allowed to stray, where they took their “oracles”, young beautiful girls and boys that would act as “conduits” for their prophecies. But he also knew that his Navigator would most likely want him to venture into the unknown. He was the one who asked to see the darkness, after all. “I cannot decide this without counsel from my Navigator. But your request piques my desire to help you and I am sure she will see the same way.”
Drupada gave Lirran a wink. “And don’t worry, we will reward you, of course. Thanks to my connections to the greatest shipbuilder on all of Argivi, I can make sure your boat is not just repaired, it will be made worthy of the truly grand journey you have planned.”
“As I said, I cannot decide this, I will hold council with my Navigator.”
Drupada smiled and sighed, then poured him another cup of wine. “Very well then, for tonight, enjoy the food some more!” He made a gesture towards the richly decorated table.
That was when Lirran noticed that Agnijit was not eating at all. He sat on the bare floor with no cushion, next to Lirran and observed him. “Will you not take part in the feast?”
The Lady Mahila chuckled. “Oh, as assigned to your care, he is your servant. It is your duty to allot him any food he is permitted to eat.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Agnijit nodded in silence and Lirran looked to the table. He himself had not yet tried every single morsel and thought of what Agnijit could recommend. “Well then, Agnijit, what do you want?”
But the Lady Mahila interrupted him. “Oh nonono, you cannot just give him whatever he wants. To grant to a servant the best cuts fresh off the table is to insult the host. Besides, this is to humble him for his aggression.”
Lirran raised a brow. “How is it an insult to the host to share his gifts with people? I don’t understand.”
“Well, it is for humility, you see? We have to remind them of their station in this society.”
Lirran tried to formulate a calm response, but a certain anger within him came up, unhindered by an inhibition that was absent just then. “How is this humility? This is arrogant humiliation. Humility comes from self-relinquishment. If he wishes to be humble, let him be humble, but you are just breeding resentment in him.”
The previously sneering grin of the Mahila had disappeared into a masque of offense. “We invite you, clothe you, feed you and you thank us by spitting on our customs? Who do you think you are, Novice?”
Lirran did not realize he was standing up until he towered above the already diminutive woman sitting before him. “You invite me, yes, and call me wise Novice, but you reject my wisdom? I come from much humbler grounds than you and that is why I do not wish to engage in this cruel custom. If you are so offended by all of this, I can return your clothes to you right now.” He reached for the knot keeping his vestments wrapped and pulled on them, leaving him in his loincloth only.
The table was silent and just stared at him, except for the little girl Dyanti, who giggled. “YES! Get naked, funny man!” which prompted a sudden reaction from her aunt.
But before the Mahila could reprimand her child, Saraswati giggled and stood up. “Do not be so crass, little Anuja. He is not a funny man, he is our honoured guest and a wise man. And brave.” She stepped over to Lirran and picked the wrappings off from the floor, beginning to put them on him again. When Lirran caught a whiff of her air and a glance into her eyes, he suddenly realized how his clenched fist relaxed. She smiled and finished the wrappings. “I am sure this is just a very intense discussion we can all play out better in the morning.”
The atmosphere was dispelled. Lirran sat back down, then he bowed his head. “I do not mean to be ungrateful, but I do not wish to be cruel to this person either. It is not up to us to humiliate him, he should humble himself before those he has wronged, which is mainly my Navigator.” He turned to Agnijit. “You never even talked to her, you just thought serving us would undo what you did?”
Agnijit was retreated, almost afraid to speak up, but finally he did. “I did what my father had told me. He said the council had decided it was my responsibility that the Gurvi turned so sick in his care.”
Lirran furrowed his brow. “His care? Who is your father exactly?”
“The Raksaka of Vakarshik, the Protector General.”
A sudden brunt hit Lirran, the severity of the situation. He remembered with what fear the Protector General had tried to weasel himself out of the punishment by blaming the scout that had injured Navigator Kaza. What kind of father would do something like that to his son? He also looked to the others and saw they were little surprised, obviously knowing this already. Their behaviour seemed even more arrogant, seeing the son of a diplomatic rival as a servant would of course have given them arrogant glee. When Lirran looked at Agnijit he saw not a young man but a beaten boy, tossed around by those above him.
“Well, do you want to humble yourself before her?”
Agnijit seemed to think for a moment. “If the council finds you to be guilty of being trespassers, I would have humbled myself before an enemy. I cannot in good conscience do something like that. For now, I am your jailer, even if you have shown me great charity with your offer of food, I will only take what is necessary.”
Lirran frowned for a moment, but then understood. “You make a good point. Will you then await and accept the judgement?”
Agnijit nodded and bowed.
Lirran looked at the table, filled a bowl with rice and nothing else and handed it to Agnijit, then he tried to relax for the rest of the evening. Malati Pritha performed a dance involving vines hanging from the ceiling of the stage and Malati Saraswati read poetry from far-off lands to the guest.
In the end, Lirran retired to the guest room, slightly tipsy and very satiated. Kaza welcomed him. She had not slept entirely.
“You look troubled, Lirran.”
He sighed. “They are asking us for favours. They promise to help us in return, but I suspect if we refuse, we will face more hardships than a mere boatwreck.”
Kaza seemed to understand. “You are surrounded by power. Power flows as water does: it avoids the rock in the path and gathers in pools.”
Lirran furrowed his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
But Kaza grinned, showing her sharp blades in an impish visage. “Meditate on it.”
Lirran knew he would not be able to meditate on anything this night. He drizzled another bucket of water carefully all over Kaza and her blanket. “Sleep now, properly, my Navigator. You need rest more than I need meditation.” With swerving steps, he walked towards the giant bed and when he undid his wrappings, he felt he caught a whiff of Saraswati’s air, reminding him of her deep eyes. The wine had unhindered him in a way, but he gathered himself. This house bore many more dangers than favours and threats: it bore his own wayward will to lead him astray. He let himself fall onto silken sheets and could not even feel the sands of the bay as he fell right into dream.