The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [106]
Everyone cooked their favourite food; everyone else was welcome to sample it. Here and there little groups of musicians gathered. Since they rarely bothered to play the same tunes as the other groups scattered through the encampment, music rang out in a pleasant cacophony. Children, dogs, and Wildfolk raced through the camps, dodging cooking fires, tripping over tent ropes, yelling and laughing as they invented games on the spot.
As a Wise One, Valandario found herself in demand for advice and omens both. The People brought her all manner of questions, a few of which she felt incompetent to answer. ‘Aderyn will be here soon,’ she would tell the askers, and they would smile and agree to wait. Despite his new-found knowledge of healing, Loddlaen kept to himself as much as always. He had brought no medicines with him, and whenever anyone asked him for advice, he would repeat that he only knew Roundear lore, nothing that would benefit the People. He too would suggest they wait for Aderyn.
The night before Aderyn was due to arrive, the music and the feasting went on late into the night. Out in a meadow lit by small fires the People danced in long lines. One of the other alarli had invited everyone in camp, including of course Valandario and Javanateriel, to their central fire. When Javanateriel suggested to his foster-brother that he come with them, Loddlaen said no.
‘I hate crowds, Jav,’ he said. ‘You know that. It’s the noise and suchlike. I might even take a long moonlight walk or suchlike, just to get away from all this confusion.’
‘All right, then,’ Jav said. ‘I didn’t want you to feel left out.’
‘The way I always was before, when we were children?’ Loddlaen’s smile grew tight. ‘Ah, that was a long time ago! But I remember things, you know, maybe more than other people do.’
‘You always did.’
‘Yes.’ His voice sank to a whisper. ‘Yes, I always did.’
As they walked off, Val glanced back to see Loddlaen standing alone, watching them with his hands shoved in his pockets.
When they arrived at the gathering, Val counted roughly eighty people in attendance. Loddlaen would have hated it, certainly. Some of the guests stood near a firepit and watched their host carving up an entire roast lamb; others sat in the grass behind the tents and watched the dancing out in the meadow. Javanateriel and Valandario found a good place to sit among the others. Women brought them plates of the choicest foods, happy to wait upon the Wise One and her man.
Although Val had no taste for strong drink, Jav had never said no to any skin of mead that came his way, and that night plenty of them arrived. While most Westfolk men could drink mead like water all night, for some reason Javanateriel had always been susceptible to strong drink, and he felt shamed that he was. The full moon was still high in the sky when Val realized that he had drunk more than enough. Someone passed him a full skin, and while he managed to get a good squirt into his mouth, he also sprayed mead across the front of his shirt.
His drinking was the only thing they ever argued about. Among strangers as they were, she tried to ignore his lapse, but she knew that her silence was growing colder and colder. Finally he spoke first.
‘You’re angry, aren’t you?’ Jav said.
‘Well, you promised me you wouldn’t get staggering drunk tonight.’
‘I’m not staggering.’
‘Not yet.’
‘What makes you think I will be?’
‘Past experience.’
‘Oh come on, Val! If you’d have a sip or two yourself—’
‘I don’t care to get muddled, thank you very much.’
‘Oh, so now I’m muddled!’
‘That’s not what I meant!’
Some of the others at the gathering were watching them, Val realized.