Opul smiled as she sipped the tea Kelton had prepared for her. Her expression was full of honest emotions that made her eyes light up.

"It is the one thing I have missed," Opul said. "The Waitland has no leaf worthy of staining water."

"Waitland?" Kelton asked.

"Yalin' vanqu," Opul repeated in Nagada. The four Nagada who had returned with her that morning perked up at the word. They were less spellbound by the tea, tasting it carefully and not showing any outward pleasure at the flavor. "It is the best translation I can muster. This jungle is the land in which they wait for the Treewalker, though they use a word whose meaning is closer to ground-with-many-trees." She snickered, "My name is easier then ground-with-many-trees-where-comes-the-treewalker. "

"How long have you been here?" Borlin asked. He was sitting next to Tarvakian, and like Kelton, no longer wearing the copper ring around his neck. Tarvakian had Filgot cut them all off after Taggert's burial.

"I have lost count of the years," Opul replied. "If I had to guess, twenty or so. Time does not move the same here. The Nagada never count the revolutions of the sun and think less of plans beyond a day or so. There is no coin to seek, no power to obtain. All is shared. Desires are shaped by the community, not the few."

Ger' vy, who had returned with Opul, spoke to Opul. Opul translated what she had been saying. The Nagada nodded their heads, and some spoke a few words.

"What was said?" Tarvakian asked. His mood was dark, yet he was as intrigued as the rest.

"They speak of their days of...I guess you would call it enlightenment. That word is as close as can be. A time long ago when the All-Father chastised them for their ways." Opul smiled at Tarvakian. "It is that history that shaped their judgment of you. They see it as the All-Father's demand of them. A duty that must be done." Ger'vy spoke again, and Opul nodded.

"She says, they were once like you and took property through war. All-Father offered them life in Waitland or death. It was once thought punishment. Now they see wisdom in it." Opul pursed her lips when Ger'vy spoke again, then translated. "They think you will see the same when you free your house."

"It will destroy my house," Tarvakian said. Then he shrugged and sighed. "It is for my wife, son, and... others that I fear the most. It will reshape all I have built for the worse." He shook his head. "Free houses do small business, not large. I, and all who share my name, will be shunned into obscurity by the large houses." He looked at his ex-property. "And who will see that they are fed and have a bed to sleep on? I have old ones for who I promised care. How will that be provided without coin?"

"Aye," Opul said, nodding. "It will not be an easy change. Unlike the Nagada, it will only be you who commits, not the world around you." She sighed. "I would say I am sorry for your coming troubles, but in truth, I am not."

"I will lose my seat upon the counsel," Tarvakian continued. "Mayhap, the king will retract his daughter, taking my son and grandson with her." He closed his eyes as he seemed to absorb more stress into himself. "I will be forced to sell land to keep promises. My wife saw a future, and now I offer her only hardship and the loss of what she once had, much less what she had thought to gain."

"I will help where I can, sir," Filgot said. The other guards whose lives were spared voiced their agreement as well. "I can do with fewer visits to the taverns for a spell. Mayhap, less coin for my services while the house settles."

"I thank you, Filgot," Tarvakian said, a small smile forming on his lips. Kelton knew Tarvakian valued loyalty above coin. "You will be paid your due until it can't be paid. My house will hold its pride while it disassembles."

"To the best of houses, Mas...sir," Borlin said. He raised his mug of tea up. Others followed, including the Nagada, who were slow to understand the gesture.

"To Taggert," Tarvakian said.

Kelton sipped his tea with the others and struggled with his newfound freedom. It had come at a high cost and would significantly weaken the best of the houses. The kingdom desired everything to remain as it was. The King's animosity to Kelton's new scribing was a blatant sign of that. New ways were frowned upon, and house Tarvakian would be penalized for the abhorrent direction it would embark on. Tarvakian was correct; he could not maintain a great house in direct opposition to the kingdom.

"It has happened too fast," Kelton said, thinking aloud. If only it could have been incremental so the world could absorb the changes.

"Aye, Kelton," Tarvakian agreed. Opul was about to say something, then halted. "I am beyond harm; you may voice your mind, Opul." Tarvakian urged.

"In my mind, removing shackles cannot be done fast enough," Opul said. "Now that I say it, I feel as if I am poking a festering wound."

"Aye," Tarvakian said, then chuckled. "When my house falls, I may return here and haunt your days with a vengeance. All-Father knows I'll likely have little welcome in the kingdom."

Opul translated the flow of the conversation, which brought mild laughter from the Nagada. Ger'vy said something that brought out stronger laughter.

"What?" Tarvakian asked.

"It will sound cruel, but is not meant so," Opul said, brushing off the words. Her smile said she found it humorous as well.

"I would hear it anyway."

"It is your girth, Heralic," Opul said. "They mean nothing by it, but they think in terms of the whole tribe. They wonder what food would be left in the Waitland if they allowed you to join them."

Tarvakian expression changed to astonishment as he pondered the words. He looked down at his belly then back up at the Nagada. In a fit that defied Tarvakain's typical cordiality, he burst into laughter. It was shared by all. Laughter needed no translation and was a welcome diversion from the bleak thoughts that had ruled before.

"I suppose we must prepare for our return," Tarvakian decided once he had regained his composure. He looked at his ex-property. "I can offer you what supplies we have left, and a copper a day to help return the horse and wagons." He shrugged in a sign of defeat. "Unless you wish to part ways now. I will see to it that your freedom is scribed on our return."

"What of the bolts?" Kelton asked. "There is still profit in them." He looked at Opul. "How far to the western edge of the Waitland?"

"I can not ask..." Tarvakian began.

"Two days, mayhap, three at your pace," Opul said. She spoke with the Nagada, whose nods confirmed her guess.

"It is shorter there than back out," Kelton said. He looked at Borlin and the others who nodded.

"Six days there and back at best," Tarvakian said, shaking his head. "Would you stall your escape from my house?"

"Aye," Borlin said. "For a taste of profit, we would." The others agreed.

"Profit is not guaranteed," Tarvakian said. "Mayhap, I will take a loss on the endeavor. All-Father knows this adventure has cost me most everything already."

"A copper a day, or half what you gain," Kelton offered with some reluctance. It was odd negotiating with his old master. "Whichever is more."

Tarvakian looked up at the canopy as he considered the options. When his eyes returned, Kelton saw the thoughtful negotiator return.

"And what is gain?" Tarvakian asked. "Is the wagon of supplies added to the cost of constructing the bolts?"

"Aye," Kelton replied. "Though the guard's wages should not be included. You would have paid them anyway."

"Would we not have eaten as well?" Borlin asked.

"The free eat as much as property," Kelton said. "Unless you wish to purchase your next meals and the tea you drink now, it's best included as part of the cost."

"We all need to eat," Tarvakian said, patting his belly. He found humor in extending the razzing that the Nagada began.

"And the guards protect us as well the cargo, so we should share in the cost of their meals," Kelton added to forestall future argument. It was best if the deal is a simple one not derived from portions of portions.

Borlin collected a bevy of nodding heads from the ex-coppers and turned back to Tarvakian. "It is agreed, sir." Borlin was surprised when Tarvakian rose and held out his hand. He and Borlin clasped wrists to bond the deal.

"Whatever may become of my house, it is good to know I am still trusted by a few," Tarvakian said.

"You have long earned our trust, sir," Borlin said. "Now, we intended to earn ours and a little coin along the way."

"Sir," Kelton interrupted.

"Aye," Tarvakian said as he broke with Borlin.

"That you are finishing the trek grants me an opportunity I wish to take," Kelton said. "Though my stomach still feels the loss of Taggart, I would like to spend some time with the Nagada." He looked to Opul. "If it is allowed."

Opul began conversing with the Nagada.

"You are now free to do as you desire," Tarvakian said with visible disappointment.

"Only until you return here," Kelton said. "It is my intent to travel to house Tarvakian, if it is possible." He blanched at the thought of Tarvakian thinking otherwise. "Unlike many, I have nowhere else to go. That, and I wish to return to Yanda. I will earn my..."

"There will always be a place in my house for you, Kelton," Tarvakian interrupted, relief on his face. "And you have always produced more than you consume." He smiled and patted his belly again. "Unlike some."

"It is allowed," Opul said, after her consultation with the Nagada ended. "Though all in the tribe, visitor or not, are expected to labor. Many of your comforts will be missing." She held up her mug of tea as an example.

"I'll survive for six days," Kelton said, remembering many days in the forests of Aragonia without comforts of any kind. "It is in Korvin's memory I do this," He informed Tarvakian.

"Korvin's, and your own mind," Tarvakian said. "If there is one thing I have learned about you, you will ever crave new things to learn." He chuckled at himself. "I should have known you would desire to return to Yanda. Beautiful, that one."

"Aye, sir. I will rejoin the wagons when you pass back through," Kelton said. "Mayhap, everyone's purse will be heavier, and my mind sated for a time." He realized that their return to house Tarvakian, and the freedom bestowed, would precipitate Yanda's return to Sorinnia. It's coming was both good and bad. He would miss his sister, but revel in the return of the Princess.

Following the Nagada was made simple by Opul's speed. Had she not been there, Kelton was certain they would have moved like the deer he had seen. Still, he was amazed how they were able to travel through the dense foliage with barely a disturbance. The pommels of their swords, which stuck up at ear height, never once snagged a branch. Kelton heard all of his footsteps and most of Opul's. He had to strain to hear the Nagada's movements, and even then, he thought it was his imagination triggered by sight.

"Mayhap, an hour - give or take," Opul said between breaths, hinting at how long they would be moving. "It has been a while since I have traversed such distances, and now I have done it four times." She pointed at the lead Nagada. "I suspect they are well bored with my speed."

"They do not show it," Kelton said. He was following behind Opul, allowing her to set the pace.

"All have limits, and they do not chide those who have reached them." Opul looked back and smiled. "Now, those who fail to try to reach them, well, they will find sharp tongues."

"They have an odd tolerance," Kelton said. "They disliked my owner, then once decided he would no longer own, they lost their distaste of him. It is as if past deeds, once forgiven, are ignored as if they never happened. I was surprised when they did not question the house's desire to complete the trip and not return to free all at one."

"And if they had?" Opul said.

"I had arguments ready," Kelton said with a chuckle. "Tarvakian's property - well, ex-property - is well cared for and will feel no slight at waiting a few more days for what they do not know is coming."

"Know that it is your words that swayed them to let Tarvakina live. Yours, and those other collared." Opul took a deep breath and stepped over a fallen tree with care. Kelton held her hand to steady her traversal. "Here, the victim has power, not laws and kings. It just took time for them to believe your words were not coerced by the whip." She shrugged and let go of his hand. "They trust that what was agreed will come to pass. Time, as I have said before, isn't as important to them."

"It is a different way of thinking," Kelton said. "Most see past actions as an indication of future ones, no matter the reparations made."

"Aye," Opul agreed. "And the Nagada way is not without its problems. A bad soul can misuse their trust, yet, only once. A lie is a grievous thing to them." She waved her hand to indicate a great distance. "Outside of the Waitland, lies are used as tools to acquire coin and power." She shook her head. "It is better to covet truth than coin. That is why I stayed."

Kelton moved ahead of Opul when they reached a small cliff-like drop. He jumped down and allowed her to use his hand and shoulder to steady herself as she half slid, half climbed down. Ger'vy said something about the task, and the Nagada shared a chuckle, which also brought a snicker from Opul. Kelton was sure he made out the word for tree.

"What was said?" Kelton asked.

"They have wondered what to do with someone unskilled in the Waitland," Opul said, once she reached the bottom. "They say you're tall enough to make a good tree." Kelton was confused, so Opul continued. "It is what I would have used to lower myself." She indicated a sapling that was off to the side. "But, I thank you for providing a more dignified descent."

Kelton turned toward Ger'vy and put his arms out with fingers spread in his best stock-still impression of a tree. He added a smile. She covered her grin with her hand as the rest of the Nagada laughed.

"You have made friends," Opul told Kelton as they continued on their way. "Laughter is important, and never meant in harm as it can be elsewhere."

"Ahh, Heralic laughing at his belly," Kelton thought out loud. "It pleased them, and helped allow him leeway with finishing the trek."

"You have a good mind," Opul said as she continued onward.

It was near midday before they arrived at a small town of huts built upon a flattened rise. The undergrowth had been cleared away, and only the largest of trees remained. The ground was covered by long, tight bundles of dried straw-like vegetation held in place with felled trees. They formed paths between the huts, which were constructed of the same material, though thicker bound and overlapped many times.

"It is dry now," Opul said as they stepped upon the walkway. "When the wet season comes, these paths ride above the water and keep the mud below." She chuckled. "Or that's the idea. Given enough rain, they sink some."

"A marvel, none the same," Kelton said.

There were Nagada of all ages. Babes seated upon hips, one on a male hip as if he were its mother. Young ones, only partially etched, sitting in a circle talking and laughing while braiding torn strips of green stalks into thin rope. It looked like the same rope that bundled the straw. A central fire burned low, its coals old and glowing with confidence. Men and women surrounded it, stirring clay pots and preparing meat on flat rocks pushed near the heat.

Kelton noted a small boy who sat alone on a stump, away from the huts and activity yet visible to all. He did not look pleased to be there, yet remained still. Ger'vy, and the other Nagada who Kelton traveled with, each pressed their foreheads to the boy's and said a few words as they passed. Opul did the same and added a smile, which the boy returned, though his had a sadness about it.

"Who is he?" Kelton whispered to Opul.

"Vin'pol'ar," Opul replied. "He is to sit there all day and watch the others." She chuckled. "He has done what young ones are want to do, slacking in his duties yet eating his fill. It is a lesson for him."

"What did you say to him?"

"We tell him of our need for him," Opul said. "It is important that he is reminded of the tribe's love and his part in it. Both his soul and the community's are one. It is how it is here."

"And what if he does not learn?"

Opul shrugged. "It is a rarity, but it has happened in the past. He would have to find a new tribe, or be a tribe of one. It would be a sad day." She smiled. "Young ones learn quick enough. Watching and not doing is hard for the Nagada." Adding power to her words, a bout of laughter rose from the young weavers of rope. Vin'pol'ar grimaced at what he was missing.

"There are other tribes?" Kelton asked.

"Many," Opul replied. "The Waitland is dense, but the local abundance would be lost if all assembled as one. They do not farm or herd like the outside, so they scatter into small tribes to spare the land." She leaned into Kelton and whispered, "Tribes gather when partners are needed. A woman must be careful who she allows between her legs."

A man of middle age and as tall as Kelton approached Opul, and they exchanged words. It is evident to Kelton they were speaking of him, though he was only able to catch a few of the words. Useless without connotation.

"This is Lin'cy," Opul said. "He is the one given most deference. The leader, though the concept doesn't fit here." Lin'cy's eyes scanned Kelton from top to bottom as if he were deficient. "He thinks you are best placed with the young ones for now." She pointed toward the group of weavers. "They will teach you what to do."

"I desire to learn of the Nagada," Kelton said, thinking spending time with Opul would be best.

"If you desire to eat, you will need to contribute," Opul said. She traded more words with Lin'cy. They shared a laugh before Opul translated. "He says, it is best to learn from the beginning though you may skip the birthing part." Kelton tried not to smile and failed.

"I am partial to eating, so I shall heed his wisdom," Kelton said. He was brought down to the circle of weavers. A boy and a girl shifted to create room for him. Unlike their elders, the young ones had sparse etchings on their skin. Kelton assumed the number of etchings was tied to age and ability. Lin'cy was fully covered, more so than Ger'vy.

"Will we speak again today?" Kelton asked Opul as he sat down.

"Aye, you will share my hut at night," Opul replied. "A guest must be sponsored, and I am yours. And we will cross at meals and such." Kelton nodded and turned to his new duty.

The young ones thought it humorous that Kelton joined their work. Grown men must be rare when it came to weaving. The girl next to him took it as her duty to show him the task. They must have spent a good part of the morning stripping the stalks, for there was a pile of strips ready for weaving in the center of the circle. The girl grabbed three pieces, pulled the ends together, and placed them in Kelton's hands. Then, she went back to her work and demonstrated slowly how it was done. It was a simple weave, but the flat strips made it challenging to keep as tight as demonstrated by his young teacher's skilled hands.