Again the girl reached into the chest. She brought out simple wrist bangles. At first glance I thought they were metal, but they clacked softly against one another as the girl displayed them. They were wood, then, but made from a wood so black that it resembled stone. There were six of them, and again the girl offered them to Olikea. Olikea held out her arms and sat without comment as the woman slid three bracelets onto each of her wrists.

The final treasure to be displayed was wrapped in a very finely woven mesh of reeds. The girl lifted it from the box, drew a small bronze knife from a sheath at her hip, and cut the mesh away. A tantalizing aroma rose from it. Soldier’s Boy could smell almonds, ginger, honey, and rum. Or something very like rum. The girl offered the cake to Olikea, saying, “These are baked once a year and mellowed with liquor for a year. They are special, cooked only for Kinrove’s enjoyment. He sends one to the new Great One and his feeder as a welcome gift.”

The cake that Olikea received was the size of a dinner plate and flat like a griddle cake. With her eyes on the girl, Olikea broke the dark brown confection into two pieces. She presented one to me, and then sat back in her place. She took a bite of the dark rich cake, chewed and swallowed it slowly, and then took another, and finally a third. After she had swallowed her third bite, she looked at me and said quietly, “I judge it safe to eat and flavorful, Great One. Perhaps it will bring you some small enjoyment.”

No change of expression passed over his face. He lifted the aromatic cake and took a bite. As he chewed, a symphony of flavors spread out on his tongue and filled his nostrils. In my whole life, I had never tasted anything as delicious as that cake. Sweet mingled with spice and tamed the heady taste of the liqueur that had mellowed it. The almonds had been ground to powder to produce such a fine texture. It literally seemed to melt away on my tongue. After I swallowed, the taste of it lingered, not just on my tongue but as a perfume in my nostrils. It was delectable.

Olikea was waiting. After she saw Soldier’s Boy swallow, she asked with feigned anxiety, “Was it acceptable, Great One? I hope it did not offend you.”

He did not respond immediately. When he spoke, it seemed he had considered his words well. “I am sure Kinrove enjoys such things and expected that I would like them as well. It was a kind gesture of him.”

This faint praise seemed to rattle the girl. She had been watching their expressions closely. I think she had expected them to praise the cake rapturously and was puzzled that they had not. So was I. It seemed an ungracious way to receive a gift. I was embarrassed at his churlishness, but Olikea seemed to expect it. She turned back to the girl and said, “My Great One is not offended by this token. He understands that it was sent as a sign of friendship.”

The girl and the boy exchanged glances. The lantern bearers shifted their feet and then stood silently. I listened to the rising evening wind. It stirred the loose sand of the beach. Behind us, the swelling tide was venturing closer. From the direction of the Trading Place, I saw other lanterns approaching. Those, I surmised, would be the ones coming to clear away our plank table and the bearers who would carry our purchases for us.

It seemed to me that the silence stretched too long before the girl spoke. “Would you care to accompany us to the camping place of Kinrove? He has many rich and wonderful foods to share, and offers you a place to soak in hot water, scented oils and men skilled in applying them, and soft beds with warm blankets for the night.”

Olikea was still. Then she turned to me, leaned closer, and asked softly, “Would the Great One be pleased by any of these things?”

Soldier’s Boy considered. To all outward appearances, he was calm, but I felt the quick energy that swirled through him. “I can accommodate Kinrove,” he said at last, as if he were granting the man a favor rather than accepting a graciously tendered invitation.

Again the young envoys exchanged looks. After a moment, the girl turned back to us. “We will return to him, then, to let him know you will be coming. We will leave a lantern bearer with you, to guide you to us at your leisure.”

“As you wish,” Olikea said. As if they were already gone, she turned her face away from them to look only at me. After a moment, she lifted her cup and drained off the rest of the wine. She appeared to be steeling herself to something.

Kinrove’s envoys retreated a short distance, briefly whispered together, and then departed. A single lantern bearer was left behind. He waited respectfully out of earshot.

“Shall we go to the camp of the Great One?” Likari finally asked them when he could no longer stand their continued silence.

“Hush, foolish one!” Then Olikea spoke on in a lowered voice, “Of course we will! This is a great opportunity. Do you know how long Jodoli waited before Kinrove sent for him? Over three years! And Nevare has been invited on the first day of his first visit to the Trading Place. That is unprecedented.”

The boy leapt up and kicked his feet in the air. “Then let us go!”

The scowl Olikea gave him would have curdled milk. “Sit down!” she hissed at him. “And do not move or speak again without my leave, or you shall be left here for the night to wait for us to return. This is not a time to appear foolish or eager. We must not be incautious. Kinrove is a man to fear. What he wants, he takes. Do not forget that. We have no cause to love or trust him. And he has begun his courtship of Nevare’s friendship with a veiled insult. Nevare is a Great One, Likari. Yet Kinrove sends messengers who are barely more than children, not even his lesser feeders, to give us this invitation. And they speak of Kinrove as the Greatest of the Great Ones, as if all must acknowledge that without discussion. All this he does to assert that he is above Nevare.”

Likari had sunk down onto his heels. He looked from me to his mother and scowled. “But all say Kinrove is the largest Great One who lives, perhaps the largest Great One who has ever lived. All respect him and acknowledge his power.”

“But that may soon change!” Olikea insisted, and she smiled. She looked, for that moment, like a woman who contemplated vengeance. “Look at Nevare. He eats without effort, for pleasure, not even forcing himself. And he grows quickly. Think how short a time it has been since his skin hung slack on him and he was almost too weak to move. Look how much of his weight he has already recovered. The magic has blessed this one. Already he is greater than many of the Great Ones from the other kin-clans. Surely you have seen how Jodoli looks at him, knowing well he will be supplanted by Nevare in less than a year. If our kin-clan turns to him, if he is fed on the best foods, on the foods that nourish his magic, I think that in less than two years he can equal Kinrove, and perhaps surpass him.

“So we do not go to Kinrove now, shaking our fingers in humility and groveling to him. No. We go to let him see that he has a rival, and to demand his respect from the very beginning. Nevare must bear himself as a contender if he is to be seen as one He cannot be seen as desiring too much what Kinrove offers him. He must accept it as if it is natural and perhaps less than what he expected.”

“But—but the food, and the steaming waters and the oil rubs and soft beds!” The boy spoke in a longing whisper and his mouth hung half ajar with wanting.

“We will go. We will enjoy those things, but we will not appear surprised by them or appear to enjoy them too much,” Soldier’s Boy directed him.

Olikea suddenly looked a bit less pleased. “I am not sure we should take him with us. The boy is too young for such things. And there are dangers in Kinrove’s camp, sights that I do not think he should see. Perhaps it would be best if he remained here. When the servants come to clear the dishes—”