Chapter 12: The Elder's Course

The eight lords sat down at the long table in the great hall at sunset.

They looked like eight ordinary people in fine robes, until you saw their eyes.

There was a heavy man with a gold beard and a tall woman in green.

There were twin brothers who finished each other's sentences.

At the head sat the Eldest, a tiny old woman with white braids to her knees.

She looked about a hundred and ninety and was almost certainly older.

Hakuzan sat at her left in silver-grey, with a calm, kind face.

Kagiro sat at the foot of the table, as the host did, in a plain black robe.

His hands rested on the wood.

Riko stood behind the kitchen door with a tray in her hands and her stomach in knots.

By custom, the cook carried every course out herself.

"Breathe," said Teruko in her ear. "You make a good plate. That's all anyone can ask."

"And if the plum goes wrong?"

"It's not your plum."

The first course was Hakuzan's, and he served it with his own hands.

A small white dish was set in front of each lord, and in each dish lay one dark red plum, wrinkled and glistening.

"Pickled for a hundred years," said the Elder gently. "It is the taste of the White Peak."

"A host who is moved by it is a host who loves his mountain."

"Eat, young Kagiro."

Kagiro lifted the plum with two fingers.

He put it in his mouth and chewed.

Across the table, the lord with the gold beard made a terrible face.

The tall woman in green squeezed her eyes shut and gasped.

One of the twins actually wept.

Riko watched from the door.

Kagiro's face did not change at all.

He swallowed, and set down his chopsticks, and bowed his head.

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