“All three, prince,” Dumanka said. The quartermaster slapped his hands together gleefully. “And what peace and joy it is, the faith we hold! I’ll show you our little book, sir. Which I got in Yissou, from a certain meat-cutter, Zechtior Lukin by name. When you read it you’ll attain understanding of the great truth of the world, which is that all is as it is meant to be, that there’s no use railing against fortune, because it’s the gods who send us our fortune, and what point is there—”

“Enough, good friend,” said Thu-Kimnibol, holding up a hand. “Convert me another time. We have an army to train just now. For which you’ll be very useful.”

“Whatever your lordship asks,” said Dumanka.

“I heard something of your Zechtior Lukin when we were in Yissou,” Thu-Kimnibol said. “Or of his teachings, at any rate. It was Salaman the king who told me. Death isn’t anything to lament or regret, that’s the idea. For it’s part of the divine plan of the gods. And so we have to accept it unquestioningly, no matter what form it comes to us in. Do I have it right?”

“In a nutshell, you do,” said Esperasagiot.

“Good. Good. How many are there in Dawinno now who follow these Acknowledger teachings now, would you say?”

“Some two hundred, prince, and more of us all the time.” The wagonmaster glanced over his shoulder. “I see some of our people on this field right now.”

“And you three are the chief teachers?”

“I was the one that learned the creed in Yissou,” Dumanka said, “and taught it to Esperasagiot and Thihaliminion. They’ve been spreading it fast as they can.”

“Spread it even faster. I’ll be counting on you. I want all my men to be Acknowledgers by the time we march north. I want soldiers about me who have no fear of dying.”

He dismissed them.

The dull clangor of the wooden training-swords resounded like merry music on the drill-field. A bright vision sprang into Thu-Kimnibol’s mind: the Nest ablaze, hjjks strewn dying on the ground by the thousands, their beaks clacking impotently, the Queen writhing in Her death-throes—

“Sir?” Chevkija Aim again. “Nialli Apuilana’s here to see you.”

“Nialli? Why in the name of all the gods would she—” He grinned. “Ah. Yes. To lecture me about the evils of the war, I suppose. Tell her to come some other time, Chevkija Aim. Next week. Next year.”

“Very good, lordship.”

But Nialli Apuilana had come up right behind him. Chevkija Aim’s golden fur flared in irritation.

“The Lord Prince Thu-Kimnibol is busy now with—”

“He’ll see me.”

“He instructs me to tell you—”

“And I instruct you to tell him that his kinswoman the chieftain’s daughter has urgent business with him.”

“Lady, it’s impossible for you to—”

This squabble could go on all day. “It’s all right, Chevkija Aim,” Thu-Kimnibol said. “I’ll speak with her.”

“Thank you, kinsman,” Nialli Apuilana said, not particularly graciously.

It was so long since Thu-Kimnibol had seen her — not since his departure for Yissou — that she seemed almost a stranger to him. He was astonished by how much she had changed: not so much in the way she looked as in the aura, the vibration, that surrounded her. She seemed stronger, deeper, purged of the last of her girlishness. She radiated strength and passion, and a new maturity. Her soul burned with an unmistakable luminous glow. And there was a formidable regality about her now. It enfolded her like a glittering mantle. It gave her a fiery beauty. He had never seen that in her before. It amazed him now. He felt as though he were seeing her for the first time.

They confronted each other in silence for a long moment.

He said finally, “Well, Nialli? If you’re here to do battle with me, let’s get on with it. These are busy days for me.”

“You think I’m your enemy?”

“I know you are.”

“Why is that?”

He laughed. “How could you be anything other? We have troops here, preparing for war. The enemy we’ll march against is the Nest. Surely you know that. And you’re the one who stood up in the Presidium and told us all how wonderful and wise and noble the hjjks are.”

“That was a long time ago, kinsman.”

“You said that making war on them was unthinkable, because they’re such great civilized beings.”

“Yes. I said that. And in some ways it’s true.”

“In some ways?”

“Some, yes. Not all. I put it all too simply that day at the Presidium. I was very young then.”

“Ah. Ah, yes, of course.”

“Don’t smile at me in that patronizing way, Thu-Kimnibol. You make me feel like a child.”

“I don’t mean to do that. You hardly seem like a child to me, believe me. But I don’t have to be as wise as Hresh to realize that you’ve come here today — at the urging, I suspect, of Puit Kjai and Simthala Honginda and other such peace-loving types — to denounce me and the war that I’m about to launch against your beloved hjjks. All right. Denounce me, then. And then let me get on with what I have to do.”

Her eyes sparkled defiantly. “You don’t understand me at all, do you, Thu-Kimnibol? I’ve come to you today to offer my support and help.”

“Your what?”

“I want to join you. I want to go north with you.”

“To spy on us for the Queen?”

She shot him a blazing look, and he could see her choking back some hot angry retort. Then she said, in a frosty tone, “You don’t know a thing about the beings you’re going out there to fight. I’ve experienced them at the closest possible range. I can guide you. I can explain things to you as you approach the Nest. I can help you ward off dangers you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“You give me very little credit if you think I’m such a fool, Nialli.”

“And you give me very little, if you think I’d act as traitor to my own blood.”

“Do I have any reason to think you’d be anything else?”

Her gaze was icy. Her nostrils flared and her fur rose, and he saw her biting down on her lower lip.

Then, to his complete amazement, she extended her sensing-organ toward him.

In a deadly calm voice she said, “If you doubt my loyalty, Thu-Kimnibol, I invite you to twine with me here and now. And then you can decide for yourself whether I’m a traitor or not.”

This was strange country out here, five days’ journey to the north of Dawinno and then some days more inland. Hresh had never seen it before, and he doubted that many others had, either. There were no farming settlements on this side of the interior hills, and the main road from Dawinno to Yissou passed well to the west.

It was broken land, cut by canyons and gullies. Dry cool winds blew from the center of the continent. Earthquakes had shattered this region many times, and the passage of ancient glaciers had ground it to ruin again and again, so that the bones of the world lay exposed here, great dark stripes cutting through the soft reddish rock of the hillsides.

A single xlendi drew his wagon. It might have been wiser to take two; but he knew so little about handling xlendis that he had decided not to risk the difficulties he’d encounter if the pair turned out to be ill-matched. He let the xlendi amble at its own pace, resting when it felt like it.

He had taken just a little with him in the way of provisions, enough to see him through the first few days. After that he would depend on the countryside for whatever he needed.

Nor had he brought anything from the House of Knowledge, any of his books or charts or ancient artifacts. Those things no longer mattered. He wanted to leave everything behind: everything. This was to be the final adventure of his life, this pilgrimage. Best not to be impeded by baggage out of the past.

With one exception: the Barak Dayir, in its little velvet pouch, tied about his waist beneath his sash. At the very last, he hadn’t been willing to abandon that.