Free Quest for the Sun Orb by Laura Jo Phillips Page B

replied.  “His mother and my father were siblings.”
    “Were?” Tiari asked, walking beside Kapia toward the far side of the clearing that had been chosen for their camp.
    “Tomas’s parents have long been gone from this world,” Kapia said.  “He was ten years old when it happened and I think that, in many ways, he has never really gotten over it.”
    “That is very sad,” Tiari said. 
    “Yes,” Kapia replied.  “We all have some sadness in our lives.”
    Tiari could only nod at the truth of that statement.  “This is our tent right here,” Kapia said waving toward a structure that was at least four times the size of the hut Tiari had spent her life in. 
    “All of that for only two of us?” she asked in surprise. 
    “Not exactly,” Kapia replied.  “There are three compartments in the tent.  One is mine, one is yours, and the largest one, at the front, is where we usually gather to eat, talk, or work.  That’s also where my attendant, Caral, and Karma’s attendant, Lashi, both sleep.  The four of us, five now with you, are the only females, so we tend to stick together.  I hope you won’t mind sharing with three of us.”
    “That sounds wonderful to me,” Tiari said, excited at the prospect of sharing living space with other women.  She had long wondered what it would be like to have friends.  Would so many dreams come true so easily?
    Kapia pulled the flap back and stood aside so that Tiari could enter before her.  Tiari took three steps inside, then stopped as soon as Kapia entered and dropped the flap behind her.  “Go ahead and have a seat there on one of those cushions,” Kapia said, gesturing toward a circle of four thick cushions in the center of the chamber that ran the width of the tent.
    Kapia frowned when she realized that Tiari hadn’t moved and turned back to look at her.  Tiari was standing in one spot, an expression of worry and embarrassment on her face, her eyes staring blankly ahead.  The dark, heavy fabric of the tent allowed some of the fading light to filter in, but not enough for her to be certain of herself in a new environment.
    “I’m sorry, Tiari,” Kapia said, understanding at once.  “That was thoughtless of me.”  She walked back to the entryway and pulled the flap back, tying it open with the straps sewn there for that purpose.  Tiari relaxed as the sunlight coming in through the narrow opening allowed her to get a general idea of her surroundings.  She spotted the cushions Kapia had mentioned and moved toward them just as a woman she recognized as Kapia’s attendant approached her.
    “Shall I help you with your cloak, Hara Tiari?” Caral asked politely.
    Tiari nodded and reached up to release the single button at her throat.  Caral lowered the hood and lifted the threadbare cloak from her shoulders, folded it over her arm and put it in the corner on top of a basket. 
    “Tea will be ready in a few minutes, Highness,” Caral said as Kapia sat opposite Tiari.  “Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”
    “Caral, Hara Tiari is unable to see without the light of the sun,” Kapia said, watching her attendant as she knelt before the pot stove and tested the temperature of the water in the teapot.  “Whenever we can, let’s leave the tent flap tied back while there’s sunlight.”
    “Yes, Highness,” Caral said.  “Perhaps we can cut a window flap that will allow light to shine right there, where you like to sit, as well.  I will speak with the tent setters about it.”
    “Good idea, Caral, thank you,” Kapia said.  “How was the shopping in the village?”
    “Better than we expected, Highness,” Caral replied as she prepared the tea tray.  “We were able to purchase a new cloak and riding boots for Hara Tiari, as well as a hair brush, toothbrush and cleaning powder, and other personal necessities.  We also purchased several lengths of fabric for warmer clothing, and some nice cloth for nightshifts.”
    “Were you