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I woke early. Pleased to be back in the familiar surroundings of Tavas Sen, I walked over to the barracks, meaning to look for those friends who had not accompanied Aras on his latest journey. I made my way to the women’s courtyard. No Lau men came into this courtyard because it belonged to women, but there were some Lau customs I could not take seriously, and the women did not much regard this custom with me. Many women were already there, preparing food and drawing water from the fountain in the middle of the yard.
“Ryo!” exclaimed Sariani, the wife of one of the troop leaders. “I’m so glad you’re all back safely. We’ve been hearing some remarkable stories!”
Other women came up to talk to me. In this courtyard even the married women did not maintain the reticence they would usually display with a man who was not a close relative. One of the young talon wives asked if I was still stronger than a Lau man. This of course meant she wanted help, moving a heavy barrel.
A few moments later I heard Lalani’s voice. “Ryo! That’s good timing!”
I laughed. She was just as usual. Soon I was talking and joking with the women in the way I had been accustomed to do.
Then I heard Geras’ voice on the other side of the courtyard, sounding somewhat exasperated.
“If anyone has seen Ryo, could they tell him to come see me straight away.”
I went out of the courtyard. “Ryo. One of these days you’ll get in serious trouble, going into the women’s side. I know your position here is unique, but don’t push your luck. Anyway, I need some help if you can spare the time.” Geras was definitely not happy with me, or perhaps he was unhappy about something else.
“Listen, one of the farmers from the west side of town has brought in a couple of Ugaro youngsters who were stealing fruit from him. Apparently there’s been quite a spate of these thefts and he wants us to punish them to deter any more.”
I raised my eyebrows. This kind of small problem was exactly what Aras’ house guard dealt with every day. They did not require my assistance.
“Well, yes, you’re right, I wanted to speak to you and this seemed like a good chance, so I suggested you could maybe translate. Can we deal with this idiocy and then we can talk.”
He led me to the courtyard in front of the house, where three of Aras’ soldiers stood guard over two young Ugaro, who knelt in the dust, looking worried. Four Lau men stood holding pitchforks and sticks. Presumably this was the farmer and his friends.
The farmer was explaining that he would not normally trouble the guard with such a trivial problem, except that instead of taking a fruit or two the thieves had stripped an entire tree of oranges. Here in the summer country, fruit grew that we Ugaro could only obtain in trade.
I had to hide a smile. This was certainly a little more enterprising than taking a single fruit as a trophy to show a young woman. Now there was no more fighting between Lau and Ugaro, no-one worried much about Ugaro boys occasionally daring each other to cross the river, or young Lau men hunting along the northern riverbank. I wondered how they had intended to carry the fruit back.
Seeing me, the young Ugaro looked horrified.
I spoke to them. “What are your names? How old are you? Who are your fathers, who you are so determined to embarrass?”
One of them spoke, bowing to the ground. “My father is Hatava inGara. I have fifteen winters. My name, should you wish to know it, is Sowota. Please, warrior, it is my fault. I fell from the tree, and Arawo had to stop to help me, and so we were caught.”
I could see that all the soldiers were trying not to laugh, because the young men were so anxious. Even the farmers, who would not know any taksu, were smiling a little.
I looked at the other young man.
“My father is Tanoya inGara, Ryo. I have fifteen winters. My name is Arawo.”
“I am not even going to ask why you decided to strip an entire tree of fruit, nor how you hoped to carry the fruit back to the winter country. Was anyone else with you? Did you keep any of the fruit?”
“No, Ryo,” said Sowota.
I looked at Geras and the soldiers. I knew some of the men spoke a little taksu. “Can anyone tell me,” I asked in that language, “what is the punishment here for theft?”
“Twenty and ten.”
I spoke to the young inGara men. “Twenty and ten. Will you take your punishment here, or shall I send you back to your fathers?”
They looked at each other in dismay. Twenty and ten was a severe punishment, and would only be given for a serious theft. The Lau would never punish such young men even with a far lighter beating, because they would consider them only boys. On the other hand their fathers would not be pleased to discover how they had disgraced inGara.
“Geras,” I said in darau, “is the punishment roster already done for the day? So. Perhaps we can show these young men the pillory and give them a few strokes to help them remember proper behaviour. I will do it if necessary.”
“Ryo, they’re fifteen! It's only a few fruit!” The other Lau were also looking shocked.
“So you know that to Ugaro they are men, not boys. Also, they are inGara. Also, they are the sons of respected warriors. Their fathers will certainly punish them quite severely if I do not. This is unfortunate, but it is because I am a son of the inGara lord and brother of the warleader and they have embarrassed the inGara.”
Geras grimaced. “Sorry about that. All right, let’s get it done. There are whipping posts in the yard.”
I spoke to the young men. “We will punish you here. Five strokes. You should understand that you have behaved disgracefully in stealing something you did not need and probably could not even carry away. This is not at all the same as taking a trophy on a raid. Sowota, did you hurt yourself falling?”
“No, Ryo.”
“So. Go with the soldiers now.” The farmer now anxiously tried to dissuade me from beating the young men. “It will be quickly over, and better me than their fathers. I hope this will be an end to foolish young Ugaro raiding the summer country, at least for a month or two.”
I took a whip from the store and went out to where the first young man was being tied to the posts.
“Yes, this is how the Lau punish men.” I said to him. “Be brave, and it will soon be done.”
Both young men behaved well, and I told them so. “You may tell your fathers you stood well. Do not kneel to me. Apologise to the farmer – wait, do not kneel. The Lau do not kneel. Stand straight, look into his face and speak your apology. I will translate.”
The man nodded awkwardly. “Tell them, I don’t know what, tell them I accept their apology.”
“The farmer accepts your apology. The soldiers will take you across the river, and I do not expect to see you in the summer country again. Do you have ponies close by?” I guessed they had ridden up at dawn and tied their ponies up in the reeds along the riverbank somewhere. “Where is your camp? Good, that is not so far. Take your shirts, or your mothers will be angry as well as your fathers. Go now.” I nodded to the soldiers.
Geras sighed. “Ryo, I apologise. I’m really sorry I let you in for that. It was completely stupid,” he added in terrible taksu, “and I will take your blow for it”.
“There was no offence,” I said, “you could not know their age. But once you involved me, I had to deal with them as my father’s son. It was unfortunate, but that is how it is. At least they will be able to boast to their friends, even if they have no trophies for their young women.”