CHAPTER 23
When the camp had been packed up in the morning and the horses loaded, Khizuwi strolled over to the restive horse in Ilzay’s string that carried the pack with the rainbow marking and the doleful load of pouches.
Everyone was still dismounted, and they stood in a loose group facing their guest, and watched.
He lay both hands flat on the pack, and the horse calmed. After a few moments, he turned back to his audience.
“These people—your friends, your family, your clan-kin—they’ve returned to the dunaq wandim, the world that surrounds. These little mementos they left behind—those are for you, not for them. They have no part in them any more. You remember them by these tokens, and it’s your memories that are light or heavy. It’s for you to make them light again, to think of the p
