"As you said, dark-eye, I'm a'laq now. This sept is mine. And I'll decide who you speak to."

She had no desire to humiliate him. "Very well. Then you'll answer my questions."

"I'll speak to a man. Not to you."

On second thought, maybe she did want to humiliate him. "You threatened the marshal. You won't be speaking with him again. You've got me now. And I want to know if you can take care of these children."

His eyes widened and he suddenly looked terribly sad. "No, I can't. Won't you stay and be our mother? Won't you cook our food and smooth our blankets at night?" He grinned harshly.

Tirnya drew her blade and had it leveled at his eye so quickly that the boy actually staggered back a step. His grin had vanished.

"I think this girl here can lead the others just as well as you can," Tirnya said, gesturing vaguely at the girl who had answered her question. "They won't miss you at all if I kill you."

To the boy's credit, he recovered quickly from his surprise and stood unbowed before her.

"A Fal'Borna warrior doesn't fear death," he said.

"What about a Fal'Borna child?"

His cheeks reddened, and he glowered at her. "Go ahead and kill me, dark-eye. If that's what it takes to make you feel like a real soldier, then do it."

"Where is the closest sept?" she demanded.

"Why? So you can destroy them, too? So you can send your plague and your wolves and your arrows into their z'kals?"

Tirnya shifted her stance so that her blade still menaced the boy, but she could look the girl in the eye.

"Tell me where the nearest sept is," she said.

The girl swallowed and shook her head. "I-I don't know. South, I think."

"Z'Maara!" the boy said.

"She'll kill you otherwise!"

"Actually, I wouldn't have," Tirnya said, not certain why it mattered to her that they know this. "But thank you for telling me." She faced the boy again. "We're not going south. That sept will be safe for you. Take the others there."

"I don't take orders from you."

Tirnya ran her hand through her hair. She wanted to scream at him, but she could imagine an Eandi boy his age speaking the same way to an enemy. She and her army had conquered his village, killed his family. For all he knew, she was about to kill him, too. Where was the boundary between bravery and folly?

"You're going to follow this order," she told him, speaking with as much patience as she could muster. "You can't stay here. There may be food enough to keep you alive, and shelter for when the Snows begin in earnest. But you're still just children. You have those horses. Use them. Ride south to the next sept. They'll care for you there."

The boy stared back at her. The look of defiance had fled his face, leaving him looking like a child once more. He appeared confused, as if he didn't know how to respond to what she'd said. Finally, Tirnya glanced at the girl

"Did you hear what I said?" again.

Z'Maara nodded.

"Sleep here tonight," Tirnya went on. "Leave in the morning. The little ones will be scared; it'll be up to the two of you to reassure them and keep them safe. The wolves that attacked you are all dead. I promise. Any wolves you hear tonight will be the wild ones you're used to."

"I told the old man that I'd follow you, and kill him when he sleeps," the boy said. "I won't ride south, like a coward."

"You think it's brave to get yourself killed taking on an entire army by yourself?"

He bristled.

"I won't pretend to know a lot about your people. But I do know that an a'laq takes care of those in his sept who can't take care of themselves. You can try to kill the marshal and leave these children without a leader, or you can take them south to the next sept and make sure that every one of them is safe."

For a moment she saw doubt in his pale eyes. And she thought she saw acquiescence as well. He'd take them south. A moment later, though, his expression hardened again, and this she understood, too. He was Fal'Borna, an a'laq. He couldn't appear weak in front of the other children.

"What does a dark-eye woman know about being an a'laq? What does she know about bravery?"

She held his gaze, refusing to let him provoke her; refusing as well to let him believe he had shamed her. After a few seconds she turned and walked away, sheathing her weapon as she did.

"Is it brave to destroy a sept that's already lost most of its warriors to the plague?" the boy called after her. "Is this how the Eandi fight their wars?"

Tirnya didn't look back. When she reached Thirus, she swung into her saddle. Her father was already sitting his horse, waiting for her. He looked like he might say something. Before he could, though, she spurred Thirus into motion.

She continued to look straight ahead, but as she rode past her father she slowed just long enough to say, "Give the boy back his knife. He won't be following us."

Eventually the armies resumed their march westward, leaving behind the Fal'Borna settlement and its orphaned children. Once more Fayonne and the other Mettai took their place at the back of the vast column. Mander walked beside the eldest, silent and clearly disturbed by what had happened this day. Fayonne knew that he would want to speak of it, but she didn't press him. He'd talk when he was ready.

For her part, the eldest wasn't certain that any of it could have been helped. Of course she'd been troubled by the deaths of so many children. But to declare that they were never to conjure the blood wolves again struck her as an overreaction. The marshal's daughter was young. She'd never seen what Fal'Borna magic could do. That was why she had spoken so rashly. Let her face a full, healthy sept. Let her see Eandi soldiers cut down by shaping magic and Qirsi fire. Then she would understand the value of Mettai conjurings. All of them would.

She would need to speak with the marshal. He'd been angry with her, as had several of the captains. Fayonne noticed how the young man from Fairlea looked at her, and she knew what he was thinking. Perhaps during the next battle they would be better off using gentler magic. The sleep spell had worked well against both the wolves and the children. They would be better off using such magic again. She'd heard her grandmother speak of poison spells used during the earliest of the Blood Wars. Mettai sorcerers had wiped out entire settlements with a simple conjuring. Fayonne thought that she could teach herself a similar spell, but she wasn't certain that Mander and the others would let her use it. The Mettai of old had forsworn all such spells after withdrawing from the wars and retreating into the Northlands around the Companion Lakes. They decided that earth magic shouldn't be used to kill indiscriminately.

Fayonne understood, of course. That kind of magic led to evil. But for years she and her people had known that other Mettai had begun to dabble once more in the darker powers. How else could they explain all that had befallen the families of Lifarsa for so many generations? How else could they explain the plague that had killed so many Fal'Borna over the past few turns? Teaching themselves the blood wolf spell had been a violation of the old Mettai laws, but the people of Lifarsa were hardly the first Mettai to cross that line. And if this invasion really did mark the return of the Blood Wars, they wouldn't be the last.

"We nearly made a mess of things, didn't we?" Mander said suddenly, his voice low.

Fayonne shrugged. "I suppose. The Eandi soldiers who were hurt will recover. The Fal'Borna children…" She shrugged. "Marshal Jenoe and the rest will forget about them soon enough."

"It had to have been the curse."

She hissed and quickly looked forward to see that none of the soldiers had heard. "Keep your voice down!" she said.

He regarded her sullenly, but when next he spoke it was in a whisper. "They'll figure it out eventually."