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“Kate has proven herself capable in many ways and a friend to the Surlons,” I argued. “She’s learned our ways quickly and even helped us defeat the rustlers. What more must she do to show her loyalty?”
Turok’s eyes narrowed. “She is still an outsider, Kian. Our tribe has traditions for a reason, to maintain order. If she is to stay, she must prove herself fully in our domestic skills.”
I frowned, not liking where this was headed. “What exactly do you suggest?”
“The harvest feast arrives in three days. It will be attended by all in the village. I propose Kate demonstrate her mastery of Surlon women’s work by cooking the feast, singing traditional ballads, and reciting Surlon legends. If she fails in any task, she has no place among us.”
My jaw tightened. It was an impossible test designed to trip Kate up. And yet, refusing it would only make Turok more determined to undermine her. I had to agree for Kate’s sake.
“Very well,” I said through gritted teeth. “I will inform Kate of your...proposal. But when she succeeds, you will cease these attempts to expel her.”
Turok nodded curtly and strode off, clearly confident Kate would falter. Sighing, I went to find her. She was brushing down her sirocco near the stable. Her face lit up when she saw me, causing an odd flutter in my chest. I steeled myself to explain the situation.
“Kate, I must speak with you about something serious...” I recounted Turok’s hurtful demands, watching Kate’s sunny expression fade. “I’m sorry he’s forcing this unreasonable test on you. But perhaps it is a chance to prove yourself to the whole village once and for all.”
Kate lifted her chin, blue eyes flashing with determination. “I’ll do it, Kian. I’ll pass Turok’s silly little test, no problem. Just you watch.”
* * *
I watched from a distance as Alya tutored Kate on all aspects of Surlon culture and tradition. Though Kate had proven herself in many ways since crashing here, mastering our domestic skills still eluded her. And with Turok’s feast challenge looming, she had much to learn in little time.
Part of me sympathized with Kate’s frustration at the situation. As an outsider, she shouldn’t have to prove herself by adhering to customs not her own. Yet I also understood Turok’s skepticism and the importance of our traditions in binding our community. Kate’s willingness to try showed her dedication.
“No, stir it gently like this,” Alya corrected as Kate clumsily mixed a batch of rygel bread dough. Flour dusted Kate’s face and hands. She sighed in exasperation.
“I’m trying, but this is harder than it looks,” Kate said. She wiped sweat from her brow, leaving a smudge of flour behind.
I approached slowly. “How go the lessons?”
Alya gave me a knowing look. “Well, we have made progress, but there is still much work ahead. She’s always been good, but I think to impress Turok, she needs to be perfect.”
Kate shot me a frustrated glare. “I don’t see why I have to learn all this just to prove I belong here. I helped get back your herds, I’ve done nothing but try to contribute however I can.”
“I know,” I said gently. “But this challenge comes from Turok, and he is an elder. His word carries weight.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Please, just bear with this a while longer.”
Kate’s eyes softened, but her jaw remained set. “Fine. But when I win this little contest, you better set Turok straight about me.”
I smiled. “You have my word.” I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving them to continue the lessons. Kate’s determination never ceased to impress me. I had no doubt she would rise to the challenge, proving her worth to any who still doubted.
Over the next three days, Alya rigorously drilled Kate day and night. I observed them from afar, not wanting to distract from the intense preparation. Kate struggled with certain domestic skills, though she took to Surlon music with surprising ease. Her voice, soft and lilting, evoked memories of my late mother’s lullabies.
Chapter 13
Kate
I took a deep breath as I stared down at the massive three-headed ram splayed out on the stone slab before me. This was it—my chance to prove to Turok and the rest of the village that I belonged here on Surlon with Kian and his people. I picked up the sharp skinning knife and focused, pushing away my simmering anger at being forced into this test.
Steadying my nerves, I recited the Surlon prayer of thanks under my breath and then set to work on the beast. The hide came away more easily than I expected after watching Alya show me the technique over and over these past few days. Before long, I had the ram fully dressed and ready for roasting.
I arranged the wood and coals in the stone pit just like Alya taught me. Soon I had a perfect cooking fire going. The flames licked at the ram’s flesh, releasing the savory aroma of roast meat into the air. My mouth watered despite my anxiety.
As the ram cooked, I moved on to preparing the side dishes and desserts expected at a Surlon feast. My hands flew through the familiar motions of chopping tubers, kneading sweet dough, and stirring the bubbling stewpot almost automatically now after so much practice.
In what seemed like no time at all, I had a mouthwatering spread laid out on the table. The feast was ready. Now came the hardest part—the singing and reciting. I glanced over at Kian sitting at the head table. He gave me an encouraging nod. I could do this for him.
Picking up the Surlon lyre, I plucked a few practice notes then launched into one of the traditional ballads Alya taught me. My voice rang out clear and strong over the murmuring crowd. I remembered every verse perfectly, earning smiles and nods of approval.
After the song ended, I moved on to reciting the legends I had committed to memory. The tale of how the Surlon god Balun slew the mighty three-headed canyon dragon flowed off my tongue. Next I told the myth of the twin suns, Batune and Talnots, and how they created all life on Surlon.
