The little boy had vanished somehow while Sankalara had been focusing on Herrapki.   Herrapki, seeing the quizzical look on her face as she looked towards where the boy had been standing mere moments ago, and correctly interpreting her concerned look, chuckled, "Don't worry, Boakla has more than likely appointed himself town messenger and went to announce your presence.   And since you're the only stranger around tonight the only thing you'd have to fear is facing too many nosy relative questions before you've had a chance to rest and get your bearings.   But I'll beat Boakla to the punch.   Since it's nearly supper time and everyone is over at the communal dining hall preparing the Spring Rite feast and since I have an unused chamber I'll secret you there.   You can get cleaned up, rest a bit and then I'll sneak you in as quietly as possible during the first part of the meal."   He gave her an apologetic look, "I mean, you're still going to have face some nosy questions from those seated near you, but at least this way you'll be a little more ready for them!   And besides, sneaking you in that way, most people won't even notice you in all the confusion!"   He grinned at her, "Sound like a plan to you?"

   Suddenly realizing that she was ravenous, having ate nothing but a bit of trail mix, Sankalara tentatively nodded her acceptance.   It sounded like a good plan.   If it worked it would allow her to check out the lay of the lay without having to answer too many queries.   But she just had one question.   "Won't everyone already know I'm here and be waiting to pounce on me, after Boakla makes his announcement?"

   Herrapki chuckled again, "Who says anyone is going to believe him?   When Boakla makes his announcement, people come out looking for you and don't find you, they're going to assume that he's just telling a tall tale again, like he's been known to do.   I mean how likely is it that the next Grand Matron is going to show up here?   Then when they find out that you really are here, you can put them off, telling them that you'll answer their questions later.   And I, as sub-elder, will back you up.   I doubt that anyone will make a real big scene and spoil the feast.   So we'll end up just making small talk.   Boakla won't get in trouble and he won't stay mad at me long.   So everyone should be happy."   He paused, and for a moment she was afraid that he was going to ask her specifically why she needed shelter.   But instead he went on, "Come on!   We need to get you out of sight before it's too late!"

   Sankalara sighed with relief; she wasn't up to any hard questions at the moment. Matching pace with him, she followed his tall, lanky form as he strode down the street with an easy, loping gait.

   The chamber in the peublo that Herrapki led Sankalara to was in sharp contrast to her quarters back at the Tabernacle.   To be fair, the Tabernacle had -- many, many years ago -- been the emperor's palace, so it had the corner on opulence.   So it probably wasn't fair to make comparisons between the two.   Still, the room was even plainer than the shabbiest of the servant's quarters.   The walls were, of course, made of clay and stone, whereas the walls in her quarters were made of gold and silver and marble.   This room had no windows of any sort.   The windows in her quarters were composed of several kinds of translucent precious stones.   The floor of this chamber was covered with the hides of animals for rugs.   The floors of her quarters were covered with rugs of the finest silk.   The only furniture in this room was a small wooden end table, a chair sitting by the foot of the bed, and a bed made with rough hewn logs and strung with rawhide for a cushion, the whole affair being covered by a mattress filled with some sort of crackly material which Sankalara suspected was leaves from a local plant.   The pillow looked like it was stuffed with avian feathers.   The bed alone in her room was about as big as this room entirely.   The frame of her bed was made of hammered gold and was decorated all over with diamonds.   The mattress was filled with wine and she slept on a pillow made of spun silk filled with just the right amount of scented air.   She had so many cabinets, chests, end tables and hutches -- all made of rare, precious woods -- that she'd lost count.   But somehow, constrasting the two rooms, Sankalara felt that this was a room that she could feel comfortable in.   Perhaps because it WAS NOT so pretentious, was, instead, homey and ultilitarian?   In any case, she might as well get used to it, she was going to be spending a lot of time in this room -- or one like it.   And would, undoubtedly, never see her other room again.   She set about using the wash basin on the end table and changing out of her dusty clothes and into the ones she'd brought along as a back up.   Then she laid down on the bed, testing it out.   It wasn't too bad after all.

   She must have fell asleep without meaning to.   It seemed like hardly any time before Herrapki was shaking her gently by the shoulder.   She sat up with a start and asked, "Did I miss supper?"   She'd almost asked Herrapki if someone had come looking for her, but thankfully, even in her groggy state, she'd known better.

   He grinned at her.   "Well the feast has begun, but it'll be going on for a long time, so, no, you didn't miss anything.   You ready to go?"

   She got to her feet, crossed the room and threw a little water in her face from the basin on the end table to wake herself up even more.   "OK.   Let's do it!"

   When they got to the communal dining hall, a large, rectangular building at the end of the street and had stepped inside, Sankalara suddenly found herself trying to hide behind Herrapki's larger form.   This was ridiculous, she knew, since no one had turned to look their way when they'd entered.   Still she'd suddenly felt like she was in a spotlight on a stage; as if everyone there was just waiting to see her perform.   She made herself relax.   If she kept up the self conscious behavior people WOULD start noticing her.   And besides no one could have asked her a question from where she was standing by the door and expected to hear any answer she might give.   The place was full of the sound of music, adult voices, clattering dishes, and children shreiking in play.

   Herrapki, who'd keyed in on her almost paranoid behavior, turned to smile at her reassuringly, took her by the hand and led her towards a table that wasn't completely occupied.   As soon as they were seated, women appeared and began to place large bowls and platters of food in front of them, looking at Sankalara with only mild curiosity before moving away.   Herrapki urged her to serve herself and to take as much as she wanted.   She did, piling the plate in front of her full with a large variety of food.   After she'd eaten a few bites and taken the edge off her hunger, she asked, "Is this your table?   Is that why there was space here?   Do they serve everyone -- or just you?   And what's this Spring rite all about?   Also, how many of these people here are my relatives and how many aren't?   And why did those serving us ignore me? I mean surely Boakla has spread the word by now and since I am the only stranger in the village --"

   Holding up a forestalling hand, Herrapki stopped eating long enough to chuckle, "Do you always have this many questions?   Or is it just nervousness speaking?"

   Sankalara, gave him a rueful grin.   "I guess I've just erected a verabl fence, haven't I?"

   Herrapki took another few bites of food, studying her, before he answered.   "I'd say it's a bit of both."

   "Both?" Sankalara, echoed him, giving him a puzzled look.

   "Yeah, I'd say you were weaving a verbal fence in an attempt to gain a measure of control, but I also believe you want to know the answers to most of the questions you've just asked.   So, both!"

   "Yeah, you're right!" Sankalara gave him another rueful grin.   Can you forgive me for going on the offensive just now?   I didn't mean to clobber you like that.   And, yeah, I realy want to know the answers to all the things I just asked about!   Give me a verbal guided tour, will you?" Sankalara tried out a winning smile on him and went back to eating, momentarily.

   Herrapki took a few bites himself.   "OK.   Where should I start?   Can I even remember all the questions you just asked?" He said teasingly. Oh yeah, I remember!   The first question you asked was is this my table?   Right?"

   Sankalara nodded with a twinkle in her eye.   She really liked Herrapki.   He was funny and her kind of person, she'd decided.

   "OK. I'll answer the easy questions first, starting with the one about this table.   No.   This is not my table.   Just because I'm a Elder of my people that doesn't make me anything special.   All are created equal.   Some just have more respobsibility than others.   And that DOES NOT mean special priviliges!" He looked at Sankalara to see how she was taking that.   She was just looking at him with a non-commital look, so he went on, "To answer your question about relatives, let me just say that about two thirds of the people here are related to you.   Spring Rite?   Well, it used to be a very barbaric affair with lots of costumes and naked bodies and orgies and all that stuff, but now we are more enlightened." He sighed heavily, with a note of semi-sarcasm mixed in.   "God! I miss the old days!"

   Sankalara, gaped at him for a minute, thinking he was entirely serious and then broke into a lusty laugh, when she saw he wasn't.   "I bet!" she said, when she'd managed to stop laughing, "You'd probably be scared out of your mind!"

   He gave her a rueful grin. "You're right.   Things are just too different now.   Well, anyway, the reason why everyone is ignoring you is because I asked them to before I came to get you.   I reserved the right to ask the awkward question myself." He gave her a big smile while he toyed with his food, looking like he wanted to ask her something real important.   After a moment he sighed and it was obvious that he was going to settle for asking something less important. nbsp "Why is it important to you how many people here are your relatives?"

   "Oh, I don't really know!   I guess I was just wondering how many people would be friendly to me because they thought they owed it to me because we're family and how many people would urge you to throw me out!   I meant, were my relatives in the majority or not.   You do still run this village on major consensus, don't you?"   Sankalara gave him a look that was half anxious and half pretending to be diffident.

   Herrapki gave her another measuring look.   He paused a moment as if steeling himself.   "WHY are you here?   I mean why aren't you home tending the the hearth as it were?"

   Sankalara decided she had to open up.   At least to him.  There was no way that he was going to let her stay her unless she was truthful to at least someone.     Still it hurt more than she'd thought it would to open up this way.   With agony plain in her voice and on her face, she said, "First of all, I want it understood that if you get to ask the hard questions that you keep it between me and you.   OK?"   Herrapki nodded acceptance of her terms.   All right." She paused a moment to gather her thoughts, then went on. "I just can't believe that this paradise was meant to stay this way.   I mean, yes, it's stable, but it's also stagnant and I don't want to preside over something that is stagnant.   Especially since I don't know what to do to change it to make it better.   And more vibrant.   I mean, I can find better things to do with my life than that."

   Herrapki looked at her in surprise.   "You realize that we don't subscribe to your religion, never have, since the days of Jevstan and so I can't really tell you what to do about that.   But I was under the impression that everything was OK in your world.   In any case you've now told me the truth -- your voice and face have verfied that.   So as far as I am concerned you may stay here for as long as you like.   We'll consider it a sabbitical for meditation."   His look of surprise changed to one of warm understanding and acceptance.

   Sankalara gave Herrapki a look of profound gratitude.   And was profuse in thanking him for understanding -- even though SHE knew that it was going to be MORE than a sabbtical.   And she also knew that even though he and his people didn't subscribe to her religion, that it didn't really make any difference.   Their people were too small of a segment of the population to make any difference and their religion had no power like her's did.   And that's what made it so sad.   With all the power available to her she could change nothing!   She decided to put that out of her mind for the moment, though.   She was here, away from the capital with all it's stultifying influence, she was safe and welcome and she was going to enjoy the night.

  After that the evening went by very pleasantly.   She got re-acquainted with relatives she hadn't seen for years, got introduced to relatives that she hadn't ever met, found out with pleasant surprise that Boakla was her fourth cousin, Herrapki's sister's son and had some very interesting and satisfying conversations.   No one tried to influence her one way or the other as she knew they wouldn't.   It was only later, back in the chamber that Herrapki had provided for her, that she realized someone had been silently watching her for the whole evening.   Watching her without ever approaching to be introduced.   Watching her with a quietly calculating look.   Searching her mind, trying to remember who it had been that she'd seen out of the corner of her mind's eye, Sankalara realized with a jolt that the person in question had looked even more like Jevstan than Herrapki did.   Who was this person?   And what did he want?

   The next day, late, she got up.   Even though she'd drank quite a bit of Spring Wine, she had no hangover, that was one of the beauties of the PQ residing in her mind and body.   Instead she'd just stayed in bed relishing the fact that she'd had no duties and could sleep longer if she wanted.   After a bit of breakfast which someone, probably Herrapki, had thoughtfully left for her and after a bit of thought she decided that she was going to see if she could find out who had been watching her the night before.   She was going to go about it carefully, though.   She didn't want to scare this person away by coming on too strong.   The best thing, and what she was going to do, would be to take a casual, exploratory walk around the village.   Maybe he'd be looking for her too.   And, if so, she'd proceed very slowly after that, profferring nothing, letting him put all his cards on the table, if he had any.   Feeling a bit pretentious and self conscious, after all, she may be blowing this way out of proportion -- he might just be interested in her body, might not be a relative -- she left the peublo.

   Sankalara didn't see the man in question anywhere on the street.   Nor did she find him working in the fields.   She certainly didn't feel like barging into people's chambers asking if they'd seen him or if they even knew who he was -- even though a few people sitting outside in the bright sunshine, working on baskets or rugs or tending children or preparing food for later -- waved at her and invited her to talk.   She just waved back friendly like and kept going.   Not wanting to bother Herrapki, who she'd seen working in the fields, and not knowing what else to do, she finally decided to see if anyone was in the communal hall.   Perhaps he was in there helping clean up?   She headed that way.

   Once her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the communal hall, after being in the bright sunshine, she saw that he was indeed in the communal hall.   Only he wasn't helping anyone clean up.   There was no one else in the building except him and it was obvious that the cleaning had already been done.   Instead he was sitting at a table with a mug of some liquid in front of him, staring down into it.   Sankalara was betting that it was Spring Wine.   Was he the town ne'er do well -- and a drunkard and slacker to boot?   Sankalara was just about to leave when he looked up from his mug, saw her and waved for her to come over to where he was sitting.   Deciding that she would give him a chance, she made her way over to where he was sitting.   Stopping before him she stuck out her hand. "I'm Sankalara!   I don't believe we were formally introduced.   May I ask who you are?"

   He looked at her with eyes that were completely clear.   Obviously he was not drunk.   Score one against her.   But why was he just sitting here when everyone else was doing something productive?   The answer to that became abunantly clear when he spoke -- too abundantly clear!

   "I am Javastad, the elder of this village and the great-great grandson of Jevstan's twin brother."

   Absently Sankalara thought, "Well, that certainly explains the resemblence to Jevstan.   Then she felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment!   How could she have thought what she had about him without having any proof? Seening to read her mind, he said, "I often come here to think things over.   That's I do a lot of.   That's sort of what's expected of me.   Care to join me?   We'll do a little loafing around together!   And share a little wine and some talk." He gave her a smile that was both wicked and understanding.

   With a rueful smile, Sankalara sank down on the bench beside him.   "Then I guess we're both loafers!   I didn't do a lot where I came from either.   So -- " she drew a fortifying breath.   "What do you want to talk about?   I mean, I saw you watching me last night.   Why didn't you approach me then?"

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