“Will he ever get to Cata Huuk?”

Keram snorted. “What do you think, cousin?”

Now they were approaching Cahl’s hut — one of the grander in the town, but still a heap of mud in the eyes of the young men.

Keram asked Muti, “Do you want to stay awhile?” He nodded toward the four guards. “I usually let the dogs out of their pen for a while. And Cahl’s usefulness does include digging out the more attractive sows from this sty. Sometimes their mud-hole desperation makes them — interesting. It’s fun, in a strenuous sort of way. But you have to be prepared for a little filth—”

Muti, distracted, asked, “What’s this?”

A girl had come out of Cahl’s hut. She was quite unlike the dark, dumpy women of the town. Though scrawny and obviously careworn, she was tall — as tall as Keram, in fact — slender, and had blond hair that shone strikingly gold, despite the dirt tangled in it. She might have been sixteen or seventeen.

Cahl looked outraged at the girl’s approach. He slammed his meaty fist into her temple, knocking her down in the dirt. “What are you doing? Get back in the hut. I will deal with you later.” And he made to kick the girl as she lay helpless on the ground.

Smoothly, Muti grabbed Cahl’s pudgy arm and twisted it behind his back. Cahl howled, but he quickly subsided.

Keram took the girl’s hand and helped her to her feet. A bruise was already gathering on her temple. He saw now that her legs and arms were discolored by bruises. She was trembling, but she stood straight and faced him. He said, “What is your name?”

Cahl snapped, “Sir, don’t talk to her—” Muti twisted his arm harder. “Ow!”

“Juna.” Her accent was thick and unfamiliar, but her words were clear. “My name is Juna. I am from Cata Huuk,” she said boldly. “I am like you.”

Keram laughed at that, disbelieving — but his laughter died as he studied her. Certainly her height, her grace, her relatively good condition did not speak of a life with the pigs of Keer. He said carefully, “If you are from the city how did you end up here?”

“They took me as a child. These people, the people of Keer. They raised me with the dogs and the wolves, and so I don’t speak as you. But—”

“She is lying,” Cahl breathed. “She doesn’t even know what Cata Huuk is. She is a savage from the tribes to the west, the animal people I have to deal with. Her mother is a fat slut who sells her body for beer. And—”

“I should not be here,” Juna said steadily, her eyes on Keram. “Take me with you.”

Uncertain, Keram and Muti exchanged glances.

Enraged, Cahl twisted away from Muti. “You want to lie with her? Is that it?” He ripped at Juna’s simple shift, tearing it away from her swollen belly. “Look! The sow is full of piglets. Do you want to hump that?”

Keram frowned. “The child. Is it Cahl’s?”

She trembled harder. “No. Though my belly excites him, and he uses me. The child is a man’s from Cata Huuk. He came here. He used me. He did not tell me his name. He promised me—”

“She is lying!” Cahl raged. “She was with child when I found her.”

“I am not for this place,” said Juna, gazing at the town with faint disgust. “My child is not for this place. My child is for Cata Huuk.”

Keram glanced again at Muti, who shrugged. Keram grinned. “I can’t tell if you’re speaking the truth, Ju-na. But you are a strange one, and your story will amuse my father—”

“No!” Again Cahl broke away. The troops moved forward. “You can’t take her!”

Keram ignored him. He nodded to Muti. “Organize the collection of the tribute. You — Ju-na — do you have any possessions here? Any friends of whom you want to take your leave?”

She seemed to puzzle over his meaning, as if she wasn’t quite sure what “possessions” were. “Nothing. And friends — only Gwerei.”

Keram shrugged; the name meant nothing to him. “Make your preparations. We leave soon.” He clapped his hands, and Muti and the troops proceeded to carry out his orders.

But Cahl, restrained by a guard, continued to beg and plead. “Take me! Oh, take me!”

It would take them three days to cover the ground to Keram’s mysterious home, to Cata Huuk.

The grain and meat, what Keram called the “tribute,” was briskly collected. Juna had no idea why the townsfolk — hardly well-off themselves — should wish to hand over so much of their provisions to these strangers. They didn’t even get beer back in return.

But now was not the time for her to inquire into such matters. The speech she had rehearsed for so long, since first seeing Keram, had paid off. Now was the time for her to keep quiet and follow where she was led.

The party formed up into a loose line. Keram and Muti took the lead. Their four squat guards followed, two of them with hands free to deploy weapons, the others loaded up with the tribute. Juna, carrying nothing but the spear with which she had arrived here, approached one of the guards, expecting to be given a share of the load.

Keram rebuked her. “Let them do their job.”

Juna shrugged. “In Cahl’s town, it would be my job.”

“Well, I am not Cahl. You must do as we do, girl. It is our way.”

“I was taken as a child from—”

“I remember what you told me,” Keram said, his eyebrows raised in good humor. “I’m not sure I believe a word of it. But listen now. In Cata Huuk, the word of the Potus is law. I am the son of the Potus. You will obey me. You will not question me. Do you understand?”

Juna’s folk were egalitarian, like most hunter-gatherer folk; no, she didn’t understand. But she nodded dumbly.

They set off. The young men, unburdened, strode ahead easily enough — as did Juna, despite her pregnancy and the four months she had endured of poor diet and hard labor. But the guards puffed and complained of their weary feet.

It was a great relief for Juna to be out of the squalid town and in the open country once more, a great relief to be walking rather than bending her back over some dusty field — even if, as they headed steadily east, she was entering countryside that was increasingly remote from the place where she and her ancestors had always lived.

They stopped each night in small towns, no more or less impressive than Cahl’s had been. The guards were plied with beer and girls. Keram and Muti kept themselves to themselves, spending their nights quietly in huts. They let Juna stay with them, huddled in a corner.

Neither of them touched her. Perhaps it was her pregnancy. Perhaps they were just not sure of her. Part of her, glad to be free of the grubby attentions of Cahl, relished not having to share her body with anybody else. But part of her, more calculating, regretted it. She had no real understanding of what this place, this Cata Huuk, would be like. But she suspected her best chance of surviving was to bind herself to Keram or Muti.

So she made sure that each evening and morning, as she cast off her shift, she showed them her body; and she was aware of how, when he thought she was not looking, Keram’s gaze followed her.

As they walked on, the landscape became more crowded with fields and towns. No trees grew here, though there were stumps and patches of burned-out forest. There was no open land at all, in fact, save for worthless rocky land or marshes. There were only fields, and patches of land that had clearly once been plowed but were now abandoned, useless, exhausted. Soon there was scarcely a footfall she could make without stepping into the track of somebody who had been here before. The extent to which these swarming people had remade the world oppressed her.

And at last they reached Cata Huuk itself.

The first thing Juna saw was a wall. Made of mud bricks and straw, it was a great circular barrier that must have been as high as three people standing on each other’s shoulders, and it bristled with spikes. Outside the wall there was a great ring of shabby huts and lean-tos made of mud and tree branches. The wall was so wide it seemed to cut the land in half.