"Of course not." She smiled and took his hand again, and they walked slowly back into camp, eagerly finishing off the rest of the honey like a couple of children.
As darkness fell and the flames died down the air began to grow colder. The elves all wore brightly colored cloaks that they wrapped around themselves when they began to feel the chill, but Jedra had only his slave-issue breechcloth and Kayan her breechcloth and halter so they found themselves drifting back closer to the fire as the night wore on.
That turned out to be a bad idea. Under the flickering firelight, Kayan's freshly cleaned and untanned temple-dweller's skin shone like a white beacon, and as the only uncovered woman there, her ample bosom drew every male's attention. Jedra put his arm around her for warmth, but also to let everyone know they were a couple. Even so, it seemed as if every pair of eyes were focused on them.
I think maybe we should try to find a place to settle down for the night, Jedra mindsent to her.
Someplace warm, Kayan sent back. She shivered within the circle of his arm.
I'll ask Galar where we can sleep. Jedra scanned the semicircle of faces for their friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. He cast his consciousness outward psionically, and eventually found the elf off in the direction of the tents set up near the slip face of a dune a few dozen paces from the caravan. He couldn't sense which tent the elf was in or what he was doing, but that didn't matter. Galar? he sent. Sorry to trouble you, but Kayan and I are cold and tired. Is there somewhere we can sleep?
He didn't expect a reply; his sending talent didn't include mind reading as well. He knew Galar had heard him, though, so he settled in to wait.
But the burly elf warrior, Sahalik, found them first. Jedra heard footsteps behind them, then a deep, hearty voice said, "Huddling close to the fire won't keep you warm for long. Fires burn out-even one as big as this."
Jedra turned to see Sahalik standing with his hands on his hips. He, too, had draped a cloak over his shoulders, but he wore it pulled back to expose his hairy chest. The hilt of his sword
stood forward at an angle that insured instant readiness, and the pommel glittered in the firelight.
"We're discovering that," Jedra said. "We've asked Galar for a place to-"
"Galar! Hah, you won't see him for the rest of the night. He's got some catching up to do, if you follow my meaning."
"Oh," Jedra said, suddenly embarrassed. Of course Galar had better things to do than look after Jedra and Kayan. He was a full member of the tribe; he probably had a lover or even a wife here, maybe even a whole family. He had been away longer than just the few days in the slave caravan, too; during their long hours of captivity he had described how he'd been forced into the gladiator games in Urik for at least a month, fighting for his life against wild animals and other gladiators, some willing, some not. If Jedra were in Galar's place, he probably wouldn't surface again for days.
"Well, then," Jedra said, "maybe we can ask the same thing of you that we asked of Galar."
Sahalik laughed. "Seems to me you turned down the best offer in the camp earlier tonight. You should've thought of that before it got cold; Rayna's already found another." He shifted his eyes to Kayan and grinned widely. Two of his teeth were missing, one upper and one lower on the right side. "As for you, pretty one, I might be able to find a warm spot for you tonight."
"I imagine you could," Kayan said sarcastically, "but I prefer to stay with Jedra."
The elf frowned. "Don't be so hasty. I've got a fine tent all to my own, and a soft-"
"I said no." Kayan's voice cut through the night like a thunderclap. All conversation stopped. In the sudden silence, a burning timber popped, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
Sahalik stood like a statue, completely taken aback. Evidently no one had ever refused him before, at least so publicly. He opened his mouth to speak, but could find no words to say.
Galar saved them all from further embarrassment. He skidded into the circle of firelight, his clothes in disarray and his hair sticking out in all directions, and took in the scene in a glance. Then he whirled around and shouted into the darkness, "Where's that lazy bard? The night's nearly gone. We'll hear your song now, bard!"
The rest of the tribe picked up his cue. They cheered and stamped their feet, shouting, "Song! Song!" and eventually the bard stepped into the firelight. He carried a harp under his right arm, and a sheaf of parchment in his left hand. He looked less worried than when Jedra had first seen him; in fact, now that he was the center of attention he walked with a cocky spring to his step and when he spoke his voice was full of mischief.
The elves groaned, and someone yelled, "Save it for the trail tomorrow. Give us the short version."
The bard shook his head. "Nay, nay, that would slight our guests, and our illustrious Galar whose misadventures in Urik brought us to this glorious feast. I shall give you the long version, and make up more as I go along."
There was quite a bit of good-natured groaning, and someone whispered loudly, "Be ready with the rotten fruit."
The bard pointed at a water cask that someone was using for a stool and said, "I appropriate your seat for the cause." When the elf had vacated it, he set his right foot firmly on the cask, placed his harp on his thigh, and gave the strings a strum. The air filled with resonant sound, and the babble of voices hushed. The bard picked out the beginnings of a tune, then when he had built it into a recognizable melody, he began to sing in a rich, carrying voice:
Oh, the Jura-Dai tribe is a wandering one
And our exploits are marry and true,
But the exploit I sing of tonight is so dumb
'Tis a deed only Galar would do.
The elves burst into laughter, and Galar took a deep bow. All through the exchange Jedra had been painfully aware of Sahalik's rigid presence at his back, but now he felt motion behind him. He couldn't hear footsteps in the din, but his psionic sense told him the elf warrior was leaving. Jedra let out a deep breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.