“So it was the elders of those ancient days who saw that shaauri must change or die, and they gathered in council to call upon the First Ancestors. ‘What must we do,’ they asked, ‘to bring peace to our people?’
“The First Ancestors took pity upon the ancient ones and said, ‘You must send the young of each Clan into the wilderness and bid them find a new Path. This alone will bring peace to Aur.’
“So it was that the elders gathered the young as they were bid, but the ba’laik’i of those ancient days were stubborn and did not wish to follow the word of the First Ancestors. Then came upon them a great desire, sent by the First Ancestors, to leave their Clans and seek that which they did not know.
“Many seasons the elders waited. When the young returned, they had changed. Each bore the blessing of the First Ancestors in marks upon her fur. Each sought a new place in her Clan, according to her desires and talents: an’laik’i to work the fields and weave the cloth and build the houses;
li’laik’i to nurture the young; ri’laik’i to carve and paint and bestow the beauty of spirit; ki’laik’i to teach and discover new ways; ve’laik’i to fight in honorable battle so that others might not die; va’laik’i to lead.
“But there were those who returned with no Path and threatened the new way with their envy and discontent. All who looked upon these Pathless ones were troubled in spirit, and the Elders feared once more for shaauri-ja.
“Then the First Ancestors said to them: ‘Let any who fails in Selection walk as a wraith, ne’lin, unseen and unheard.’
“So it was that the way of Paths became the way of the people of Aur. So it was that the First Selection brought order and peace to shaauri-ja. So it was, and so it will be.”
Ronan let his voice die to a whisper. Cynara shivered. Let any who fails in Selection walk as a wraith, unseen and unheard.
Alien. Utterly, inexorably alien.
“I’ve seen enough,” she said. “I’d like to go back to our quarters now.”
“Hanno—”
“Please offer my apologies and regrets.”
He searched her eyes. “You are not ill?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened, and he strode across the room to the rear door. He returned with Hanno behind him, and the two spoke and embraced once more. He passed Cynara without a glance and left the building at a fast walk.
Ronan’s anger was rare enough that Cynara was keenly aware of it with both body and mind. She couldn’t explain her behavior until they were alone. But Ronan didn’t take the path she had expected, back to the shaauri jail; he turned north and made for the perimeter of the settlement, where buildings thinned out and the first fields began. A small hut or cabin stood by a grove of conifers, and she knew this must be his home.
The door was unlocked, like all doors in the settlement. Ronan entered and opened the shutter of a small window. The light was just enough for Cynara to make out a single room, more austere than the brig on the Pegasus. A narrow cot, a plain wooden chair that he might have made himself, a table stacked with earthenware pots, shelves of folded cloth, and supplies in simple containers. The packed earth floor was bare, and so were the stone and plank walls.
Cynara looked for a source of heat and discovered a small hearth built into the corner, which Ronan brought to life with logs and kindling retrieved from a stack outside. Once the fire was burning, he left the hut with one of the pots and returned with water. He poured half of it into a pitcher, and suspended the pot from a bar running the width of the fireplace to heat the rest.
He worked with such efficiency that Cynara knew he had followed this same routine a thousand times, caring for himself with no expectation of assistance or company. Yet the surroundings suited him, quiet and spare as they were. He wanted no luxury. He was, in some strange way, happy here.