“We were, but well east of Kilcoole and well north of here,” Diego answered calmly. Bunny thought he was much cleverer than the shanachie, who was obviously trying to catch him out.
“What else did the planet say to you that you made such a song?”
Diego looked up at the intimidating face of Satok. “The planet gave me words to sing, which I have sung. Now my mouth is dry, and we have come a long way to see Iva Connelly and thank her for gifts, bringing gifts in return.”
“Bah!” Satok said with a scornful glance at the seedlings. “There will be no time for growing things when the company sends orders.”
“There is time now,” Bunny said, encouraged by Diego’s attitude. “The days grow long enough and the soil here will soon be as ready as it is in Kilcoole. It takes nothing from the company to supply fresh food. The company only gives cans and dried stuff. Our people need fresh food.”
Satok jumped to his feet. “I will tell what is good for my people, not you strangers.” He whirled on Iva. “You will not accept these gifts.” Iva’s expression was terrified and shocked, but he ignored her. “When the planet feels that you are worthy of them, the planet will provide.” Then, at his full and imposing height, he glared down at Diego and Bunny. “You were not invited.” His thick fore finger pointed ominously at Diego. “You come here and try to tell my people what is proper.” He pointed at Bunny, and a most curiously avid expression fleeted across his face. “The planet speaks through me, and I am the best judge of who and what is good for these people I will decide which gifts are acceptable for this portion of the planet. Your shanachie means well, but she is ignorant of our true needs. I will instruct you tomorrow, when you have rested.”
With that he stalked out of the little house, pausing briefly to eye the curlies, leaving everyone nervous, staring at nothing, or actively trembling. Bunny shook with fury, and Diego had clamped his teeth down on his lip to keep from speaking. He gave Bunny one long look, and his shoulders sagged just like everyone else’s did.
Iva could barely manage to be civil after that. She had been embarrassed in front of them by the shanachie’s behavior, and embarrassed in front of the shanachie by theirs. She was furious with her husband, as well. She did not, however, refuse the provisions Bunny and Diego had brought in their saddlebags to augment the evening meal.
Bunny had little appetite. She was angry and, actually, somewhat shocked. She had never been so rudely treated in her lifenot even by her nasty cousins. She had certainly never thought she’d see Clodagh’s careful gifts spurned.
Diego was as silent and ate as little as she, and his eyes had a wary quality to them.
They bedded down that night on the floor, between the two bunks farthest from the fire. They were cold, since they had not brought their warmest winter gear with them. Back in Kilcoole, where it was so unseasonably warm, they had been unable to imagine it being quite so cold here.
Diego shivered, hugging himself and managing to look resentful as he did it.
The blond boy, Krisuk, was in one of the beds beside them, and he threw a quilt down to Diego. “Here you go,” he whispered.
“Don’t you need it?”
“I can put on my parka. I just wanted to tell you, it was great hearing you tell off that blowhard.”
“You mean you don’t think he’s the heart and soul of the planet like everybody else here seems to?” Bunny whispered.
Krisuk made a rude sound, but quietly.
Just then, from outside the cabin, came a series of furious barks.
“Dinah!” Diego said, sitting straight up.
Iva and Miuk looked up, then pointedly rolled back over to sleep; the children other than Krisuk pulled their quilts up over their head. Soon the barking was replaced by scratching at the door and whining.
“She can’t come in,” Krisuk said. “His Highness has decreed that animals aren’t allowed in the house with people.”