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Anketam thought of the bottle in his own cupboard plain, translucent plastic, filled with the water-white liquor rationed out from the commissary and he suddenly felt very backwards and countryish. He scratched thoughtfully at his beard and said: "Well, Well. I don't know, Russ I don't know. You think a plain farmer like me can take anything that fancy?" Russat laughed, a little embarrassed.
A good meal would make him feel better. Russat said: "I don't get much of a chance to eat Memi's cooking; I'll sure like this meal." "You can stay for breakfast in the morning, can't you?" Anketam asked. "Oh, I wouldn't want to put you to all that trouble. I have to be up to your Chief's house before sunrise." "We get up before sunrise," Anketam said flatly. "You can stay for breakfast."
"I ran all the way here to tell you!" He was grinning widely and panting for breath at the same time. "You suddenly got an awful lot of energy," Blejjo said sourly. "What happened?" Anketam asked. "The invasion!" Basom said between breaths. "Kevenoe himself came down to tell us! They've started the invasion! The war's on!" "Than what are you looking so happy about?" Anketam snapped.
And Zillia seems pretty keen on him, too. If her father doesn't object, everything ought to go along pretty smoothly." "Her father might not object," said Blejjo, looking down at his feet as they paced off the dusty road. "But there's others who might object." "Who, for instance?" Blejjo was silent for several steps. Then he said: "Well, Kevenoe, for one." Anketam thought that over in silence.
"And they want to break up the baronies take everything away from the Chiefs force us farmers to give up the security we've worked all our lives for. That's what they've said, isn't it?" Jacovik nodded again. "Well, then," Anketam continued remorselessly, "do you think the Chiefs would give up easily?
Then he had gone on back home. As spring became summer, Anketam pushed the war out of his mind. Evidently, there wasn't going to be any real shooting. Except that two of The Chief's sons had gone off to join the Army, things remained the same as always. Life went on as it had. The summer was hot and almost windless.
A thousand miles to the west of Chief Samas' barony, the Invaders began cutting deeply into Xedii territory, but they were nowhere near the capital, so no one was really worried. Anketam worked hard at keeping the barony going during the absence of The Chief.
In the autumn, it wasn't visible at all, and the nights were dark except for the stars. Anketam pushed open the door of his home and noted with satisfaction that the warm smells of cooking filled the air, laving his nostrils and palate with fine promises. He stopped and frowned as he heard a man's voice speaking in low tones in the kitchen. Then Memi's voice called out: "Is that you, Ank?"
The boy was nearly ten years younger than Anketam, but Anketam knew that his younger brother had more brains and ability, as far as paper work went, than he, himself, would ever have. Anketam noticed, without criticism, that Russat had grown soft with the years.
His skin was almost pink, bleached from years of indoor work, and looked pale and sickly, even beside Memi's sun-browned skin and Memi hadn't been out in the sun as much as her husband had. Anketam reached out and took the bottle carefully from his wife's hands.
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