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wanted to see if I was merciful, is that it?" "That was my purpose," she said. "So I guess I really am a slow, dumb outlander," he said. "There is power in your limbs, she admitted, "but you fight like a falling stone." "And I don't breathe properly either. Kith-Kanan was beginning to wonder how he had ever lived to the age of ninety, being so inept. Mentioning breathing reminded the prince of Mackeli, and he told Anaya the boy still hadn't returned. "Keli has stayed away longer than this before, she said, waving a hand dismissively. Though still concerned, Kith-Kanan realized that Anaya knew Mackeli's ways far better than he did. The prince's stomach chose that moment to growl, and he rubbed it, his face coloring with embarrassment. "You know, I am very hungry," he informed her. Without a word, Anaya went inside the hollow oak. She returned a moment later with a section of smoked venison ribs wrapped in curled pieces of bark. Kith-Kanan shook his head; he wondered where those had been hiding all these weeks. Anaya dropped down by the fire, in her characteristic crouch, and slipped a slender flint blade out of her belt pouch. With deft, easy strokes, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html she cut the ribs apart and began eating. "May I have some?" the prince inquired desperately. She promptly flung two ribs at him through the fire. Kith-Kanan knew nicety of manner was lost on the Kagonesti, and the sight of the meat made his mouth water. He picked up a rib from his lap and nibbled it. The meat was hard and tangy, but very good. While he nibbled, Anaya gnawed. She cleaned rib bones faster than anyone he'd ever seen. "Thank you, he said earnestly. "You should not thank me. Now that you have eaten my meat, it is for you to do as I say," she replied firmly. What are you talking about?" he said, frowning. "A prince of the Silvanesti serves no one but the speaker and the gods." Anaya dropped the clean bones in the fire. You are not in the Place of Spires any longer. This is the wildwood, and the first law here is, you eat what you take with your own hands. That makes you free. If you eat what others give you, you are not a free person; you are a mewling child who must be fed. Kith-Kanan got stiffly to his feet. "I have sworn to help the Forestmaster, but by the blood of E li, I'll not be anyone's servant! Especially not some dirty, painted savage!" "Being a prince does not matter. The law will be done. Feed yourself, or obey me. Those are your choices," she said flatly. Anaya walked to the tree. Kith-Kanan grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. What have you done with my sword and dagger?" he demanded. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Metal stinks." Anaya jerked her arm free. "It is not permitted for me to touch it. I wrapped a scrap of hide around your metal and carried it from my house. Do not bring it in again." He opened his mouth to shout at her, to rail against her unjust treatment of him. But before he could, Anaya went inside the tree. Her voice floated out. "I sleep now. Put out the fire. When the fire was cold and dead, the prince stood in the door of the tree. Where do I sleep?" he asked sarcastically. "Where you can fit, was Anaya's laconic reply. She was curled up by the wall, so Kith-Kanan lay down as far from her as he could, yet still be in the warmth of the tree. Thoughts raced through his head. How to find Arcuballis and get out of the forest. How to get away from Anaya. Where Mackeli was. Who the interlopers were. "Don't think so loud," Anaya said irritatedly. "Go to sleep." With a sigh, Kith-Kanan finally closed his eyes. 7 High Summer, Year of the Hawk Elves from all corners of Silvanesti had come to Silvanost for Trial Days, that period every year when the Speaker of the Stars sat in judgment of disputes, heard the counsel of his nobles and clerics, and generally tried to resolve whatever problems faced his people. A platform had been built on the steps of the Temple of E li. Upon it, Sithel sat on a high, padded throne, under a shimmering white canopy. He could survey the entire square. Sithas stood behind him, watching and listening. Warriors of the royal guard kept the lines orderly as people made their way slowly up the line to their ruler. Trial Days were Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html sometimes amusing, often irritating, and always, always lengthy. Sithel was hearing a case where two fishers had disputed a large carp, which hit both of their hooks at the same time. Both elves claimed the fish, which had been caught weeks before and allowed to rot while they debated its ownership. Sithel announced his judgment. "I declare the fish to be worth two silver pieces. As you own it jointly, you will each pay the other one silver piece for permitting it to spoil. The gaping fishers would have complained but Sithel forestalled them. "It is so ordered. Let it be done!" The trial scribe struck a bell, signaling the end of the case. The fishers bowed and withdrew. Sithel stood up. The royal guards snapped to attention. "I will take a short rest," he announced. "In my absence, my son, Sithas, will render judgment." The prince looked to his father in surprise. In a low voice he said, "Are you sure, Father?" Wy not? It will give you a taste of the role." The speaker went to the rear of the platform. He watched Sithas slowly seat himself in the chair of judgment. "Next case," declared his son ringingly. Sithel ducked through a flap in the cloth wall. There he saw his wife, waiting at a small table laden with food and drink. Snowy white linen walled off this end of the platform on three sides. The rear was open to the temple. The formidable facade loomed over them, fluted columns and walls banded with deep blue, bright rose, and grassy green stone. The heat Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html of midday was upon the city, but a breeze wafted through the canopied enclosure. Nirakina stood and dismissed a serving boy who had been posted at the table. She poured her husband a tall goblet of nectar. Sithel picked a few grapes from a golden bowl and accepted the goblet. "How is he doing?" Nirakina asked, gesturing to the front of the platform. Well enough. He must get used to rendering decisions. Sithel sipped the amber liquid. "Weren't you and Hermathya attending the debut of Elidan's epic song today?" "Hermathya pleaded illness and the performance was postponed until tomorrow." "What's wrong with her?" The speaker settled back in his chair. Nirakina's face clouded. "She would rather visit the Market than remain in the palace. She is proud and willful, Sithel." "She knows how to get attention, that's certain," her husband said, chuckling. I hear the crowds follow her in the streets." Nirakina nodded. "She throws coins and gems to them?just often enough for them to cheer her madly." She leaned forward and put her hand over his where it rested on the goblet. "Sithel, did we make the right choice? So much unhappiness has come about because of this girl. Do you think all will be well?"
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