The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [80]
"When the season drew to a close and it was time for the Nars to leave, Dain and Eiter and I went on one last carousing binge around Two Stars-"
Laera twisted around and stared at her. "Veseene! How old were you?"
"I haven't always been a shaking invalid," the bard said haughtily, "and even a lady of quality should never ask a wo'man her age. Let's say I was young at heart, but old enough to know better."
"Late that night, when both Dain and Eiter had fallen well into their cups, they decided that they needed to seal their friendship. With me as a witness, they cut each other's right palm and pressed their wounds together, mingling their blood and binding them in a Nar blood-oath. The next day, the Nars left."
"On their way north, brigands attacked them. With his right hand wounded, Eiter couldn't fight properly. He was killed."
Laera gasped, but Veseene continued her story. "Eiter's father sent word back to Two Stars-and a demand for restitution. Blood for blood. Dain was responsible for the wound that killed Eiter."
"That's not right!" choked Laera. Veseene's eyebrow rose.
"Isn't it? If Dain hadn't cut Eiter's palm, he would have been able to fight and he would have survived the attack."
"What happened?" Laera begged. "What did the Gal-lidysdo?"
"Dain and his family could have ignored the demand, but that would have strained relations with the Nars and drawn their integrity into question. They could have tried to make restitution with coin, but that would have made a mockery of Dain's oath to Eiter. In the end, Dain saddled a horse and rode north alone along the Cold Road to meet the Nar chief. His oath to Eiter would accept no less."
Laera sighed. "That's heroic!" she said. "It's just like what would happen in a ballad!"
"Oh?" Veseene asked. "Then how would the story end in a ballad?"
She thought for a moment and frowned. "Dain found the bandits on the way north, slew Eiter's real killer, and took his body to… No." Her frown grew deeper as she thought a little more. Veseene wouldn't be asking if the ending were so simple. Laera tried to imagine how the tale would fit into a ballad, tried to imagine Tycho singing or reciting it. She began again. "Dain reached the Nar chief and showed him the scar on his palm. When the chief saw how deeply Dain had loved Eiter, he declared that blood for blood had been satisfied-and Dain took Eiter's place as his son. He lived, but never saw Two Stars again." She looked at Veseene.
The old woman nodded. "That would make a good ballad," she said. "It's actually very close. Dain did show Eiter's father his scarred palm." Laera smiled-until Veseene added, "And because he had taken the blood-oath with Eiter, Dain was considered a member of the tribe and no tribe member could take the life of another, even in revenge. But there was a punishment for murder. Some merchants found Dain a tenday later, staggering south along the Cold Road. The Nar punishment for murder is exile-and disfigurement. The Nars had hacked off Dain's left hand, the hand that inflicted the wound that killed Eiter, and branded their sign for death on his cheek."
Laera shrank back in stunned shock, pulling away from Veseene's arms. "No! You made that up!" Veseene shrugged.
"Why would I?" She reached for Laera's hand. Suddenly her frail, trembling grip seemed cold and clawlike. Laera swallowed. Veseene shook her head. "Laera, life is no romance. Every decision you make has a consequence. If Dain and Eiter hadn't taken a blood-oath… if Dain hadn't gone north… " She patted Laera's hand. "Think carefully before you decide to leave your father's house for-"
Abruptly, there was a shout out in the street. A heartbeat later, the slam of the building's door echoed up the stairwell outside Tycho and Veseene's rooms. Laera jumped up. "Tycho?"
Heavy footfalls hit the stairs. Veseene flinched. "No," she said, "it isn't!" She