[Envinyatar]

He slipped quietly away from the crowd once the runners had passed and made his way down an alley between two of the dingy clapboard buildings. Chokyi had a small place tucked away at the end of the passageway, behind a tall grey fence, whose outer face was cracked and peeling. Rhûnnaro paused in the shadows afforded by a twisted tree that struggled for life each season in the brief sunlight of this wooden canyon.

Pushing his slender form against the fence, he quieted his breath, listening intently for the sound of any footsteps following. There were none, only the sound of the breeze rattling the dry leaves of the tree’s sere crown. He slid along the surface of the fence, and slipped through the barely opened gate.

He was expected. At a word from the one legged man sitting in the chair on the veranda the wolf-hound at the entry way barely raised his head to him, though his yellow eyes followed Rhûnnaro’s every move closely. Chokyi motioned Rhûnnaro to come up and sit with him, as Tenzin, Chokyi’s son, barred the gate.

‘Bring our guest some sweet-grass tea, son of my heart.’ Tenzin smiled at his father, and bowed his head slightly to Rhûnnaro. ‘And a plate of thick dates and those honeyed figs, my little falcon.’

Tenzin and Rhûnnaro exchanged smiles at the request. Tenzin was anything but little. A tall, slender man of twenty now, his thick black hair in a long plait down his back. He would make a fine son in law, he thought to himself, watching the young man’s deft movements as he prepared the tea. Polite, respectful, a strong spirit.

As if reading his guest’s mind, Chokyi remarked, ‘That one has a strong spirit, does he not?’ He leaned in close to Rhûnnaro, observing him with shrewd eyes. ‘You have a daughter his age, or so I recall.’

Having heard his father’s question, Tenzin averted his eyes from Rhûnnaro as he served him his tea, then placed the plate of dates and figs between the two. Rhûnnaro smiled, acknowledging the truth of Chokyi’s statements, then changed the subject to avoid further embarrassment to the young man.

‘Today is the day of the Hunt,’ he began. ‘Were you able to acquire what I needed?’

Chokyi sat back in his chair and laced his fingers across the top of his ample girth. He was one of the procurers of goods not readily available at the shops in Nurn, or more precisely, goods whose purchase need be kept from common knowledge, and especially from those in positions of authority. He was also a countryman of Rhûnnaro’s, and so doubly bound to secrecy.

‘I do have them,’ he said, ‘but we have not discussed the price yet.’

Rhûnnaro slid a small bag of gold coins across the table. ‘There is ample payment here, enough to keep you at ease for a long time.’ He sat back, waiting for the receipt of the merchandise to finalize the deal. A look of surprise, replaced by a frown, met the return of the gold to him by Chokyi.

‘What’s this?’ he asked. ‘You ask for more gold?’ His eyes narrowed at the merchant.

Chokyi leaned forward and put his hand gently on Rhûnnaro’s arm. ‘Not gold in payment, countryman.’ He motioned with a nod of his head toward Tenzin. ‘My son. I wish for you to take him with you. Home. To Rhûn.’

There was an uneasy silence, broken by a cry from Tenzin. ‘But this is my home, father. With you.’

‘You know what the healer said Tenzin; I will not last the summer. Our clan will take you in.’ He looked carefully at Rhûnnaro. ‘And if your luck holds, this good man’s daughter will take you for her husband. He placed his hand on his son’s. ‘Have we struck bargain, then, Rhûnnaro?’