“We can only assume it does.”
“He’d make it clear to us if it doesn’t.”
“Of course it does.”
They were speaking slower and louder now that the conversation involved many more people. Rielle found she could understand most of what they were saying, guessing at the meaning of unfamiliar words from their context.
“We can’t stop trading. And we don’t know where to find him, so how can we ask?” a woman said, throwing up her hands.
“I wish we could be sure.”
“Has he changed any other laws since returning?”
“No.”
“Not that I have heard.”
“Doesn’t appear so.”
“He gave the owners of the Worweau Market permission to keep the market going, if they recorded who arrived,” Ankari told them.
“That’s interesting,” Uouma said. “But then, how can it continue when nobody is allowed to travel there from other worlds?”
“The implication was that traders also might be given permission to travel there.”
“Will this affect our trade?”
“Less than the Raen’s disappearance had.”
“It could be profitable, for those of us who visit the market.”
The drawing of Marta was finished but Rielle kept refining it, not wanting to draw attention while a discussion of the Raen was underway. As the conversation moved back to trade she decided it was safe to put the drawing aside and begin another. Taking hold of the sheet, she looked up to ask if Marta would like to see it, and found the old woman watching her again. This time Marta smiled.
“You are a Maker.”
Rielle froze again, and heard silence spread outwards as those who had overheard turned to regard her, their eyes alight with interest.
“Yes,” Ankari confirmed on Rielle’s behalf. “Let’s see the drawing, Rielle.”
Handing the sheet to Ankari, Rielle slowly relaxed as it was handed from Traveller to Traveller, earning appreciation and, to her amusement, some “helpful” criticism. She murmured thanks to both, then her attempts to choose another subject were overridden as all decided she must draw Sadeer working on her bridal clothes. Instead of returning to a discussion, the Travellers began to show each other their handiwork, and Rielle had to set aside her drawing several times to admire beautiful stitchwork, weaving, wood carving, basketry, jewellery and even ceramics. She had finished Sadeer’s face but not filled in the hair when Baluka appeared at the edge of the canopy, beckoning.
Ankari patted her on the arm in a silent gesture wishing her good fortune. Rising, Rielle handed the woman her drawing materials, dusted off her hands and wound her way through the Travellers to join Baluka.
“It’s time,” he said, winding his fingers in hers as he led her away. She was growing used to him doing this. His touch was becoming familiar and comforting.
The leaders’ canopy was at the centre of the plateau, set far enough apart from the rest that even robust discussion from within or without did not distract. Unlike the spontaneous sprawl within the other canopies, a circle had formed consisting of mostly middle-aged to elderly men and women. A quick estimate told her that somewhere between seventy and eighty people formed the circle. She resisted the urge to peer out from under the canopy. Were there really thirty-five to forty families occupying the hills around them?
Then Baluka opened his mind to her and she looked at him in surprise.
“It is to ensure no misunderstanding occurs due to your limited grasp of our language,” he explained.
She saw that he had volunteered to do so, despite knowing how it would expose the depth of his feelings for her to all. She could see he was determined to keep his attention on his task, and not distract anyone with more private thoughts. Yet that determination spoke of how deep his affections were, and the emotion that this sparked within her… was discomfort.
He is truly in love with me! I had no idea his passion was so strong. But I don’t deserve it. Not when I don’t—
“This is Rielle Lazuli,” Baluka told the assembly. He turned to her. “Not all families make it to every gathering. We only need more than seventy in order to make decisions for the benefit of all, though those decisions can be challenged and reversed at a Council–a gathering of a hundred and fifty leaders.” As a man similar in age to Lejikh but broader in the chest rose from the circle, Baluka gestured towards him. “This is Yaikha, this Gathering’s nominated Guide. He will direct the discussion.”
Baluka stepped back, his normally cheerful face flat and serious. He sat down next to his father. Yaikha invited her to sit in the centre of the circle and settled beside her.