“I thank you for that praise, Brother Djoh,” came the stallion’s thoughts.

The maiden nodded slowly. “If it were possible for such a thing to be, I would say you have in you the blood of a Kindred chief. If that is not so, then—then Sacred Sun has allowed you to make yourself into one of the Kindred. That is not what I was taught, but it is what is before my eyes.”

Djoh felt like kissing the girl, but since she was quite naked he felt that both she and Karee might misunderstand the gesture. At least he could now step away from Mountain Wind and stand without falling on his face. Meanwhile, the Kindred were laying out their dead, tending their wounded, bringing the bodies of the slain enemies across on the raft, and generally putting matters in order.

Djoh watched them with a mixture of admiration and unease. A good part of these clansmen are young enough to be my sons and daughters. They were young enough to be careless with their weapons. Without my aid they would have paid a heavy price for that carelessness. Yet when they rallied, they did it so well that they prevailed against a fair-sized band of seasoned warriors. Zhampayunsburk scouts, I should judge, who are among the best in the whole Ohyoh country.

If these people cross the Great River in strength, seeking their sacred city of Elay, I think we should let them pass in peace.

A scream broke into Djoh’s thoughts. He looked behind him, then walked quickly away. The questioning of the captured scouts had begun.

III

Karee had dreaded this meeting during most waking moments of the past two days. Not that she feared Djoh would do anything dishonorable or foolish. That was the problem. Djoh might be doomed not because he deserved it, but only because he was not of the Kindred.

Would not be of the Kindred, Karee corrected herself. If Djoh swore the proper oaths, he need not die. But would he swear them, when he knew that the next town to burn might be his own Blue Springs?

That was the decision made in the warriors’ council two days ago. Seldom did Chief Djimmi bring the council together, still more seldom did he need it. He had led for long enough that all knew he would not throw lives away through vanity or folly. Warriors died when he led, but they died from the chances of battle that came to all.

Now, though, Clan Marshul would be trying its strength deep in the Ohyohlands, against a strong town, well led, and with allies. It was learned from the Zhampayunsburk prisoners that Kahrl, war leader of Blue Springs, had sent the scouts to seek and wound Clan Marshul. But for Djoh’s quick thinking and Mountain Wind’s quick hooves, they might have succeeded in slaying more than their own numbers.

“A man who can make those not of his clan perform such deeds is a dangerous foe,” Djimmi said. “It is best that we prove quickly that he is not invincible. What better way than by defeating his warriors, burning and looting his town, and throwing his head at the feet of his allies?”

“That’s true enough,” said Chuhk. He was nearly as old as Djimmi, but every bit as tough too. “But why not go at him another way? What can he do without allies? If we strike at Zhampayunsburk itself, they will know that the price of following Kahrl’s orders is death. If we teach that lesson, Kahrl will be helpless as a child.”

“There is wisdom in that,” Chief Djimmi had said. “Yet not as much as in attacking Blue Springs. For one, the Zhampayunsburk folk are now alert and wail ing for us. They will not be easy prey. For a second, we cannot march with all our strength against Zhampayunsburk without leaving Blue Springs in our rear. Blue Springs, and Kahrl.”

“Since when have the Kindred feared foes in their rear?” shouted someone. Karee had looked, then recognized Lewee Half-Thumb. Djimmi’s threats had improved his manners toward her, but done little for his wits.

“Who speaks of fear?” snapped Chuhk and Djimmi, almost in one voice. “It is not fear but wisdom to find new ways of war in a new country,” Djimmi added. “If we were on our own Plains, we could ride freely around any foe who sought to block our path. We are in a different land, where even Dirtmen if they are numerous and cunning can find places to fight horsemen.”

It was those who had ridden against Zhampayunsburk who turned the balance. They wanted to avenge their dead comrades, to be sure. They also felt that if Blue Springs and Kahrl fell, Zhampayunsburk would be ripe for the plucking. It would not be so the other way around.

So now Djoh had to hear that his hometown was doomed, and that if he did not swear to ride with the Kindred against it so was he.

Karee had prayed for the words to break this news. That particular prayer had not been answered, but another she had not thought to utter had been. Chuhk was coming with her. He would not allow Lewee Half-Thumb, who had insisted on joining the party, to shed Djoh’s blood unlawfully.

Lawful or unlawful, does it matter if it is still death? Perhaps dying on Chuhk’s dagger would be better than what other deaths might await Djoh, at the hands of Lewee or Burhl, another unwelcome addition to the party.

Do not bury Djoh before he is dead, Karee Marshul. There is much life in that man, as well you know. And at the memory of how much life there was in Djoh of Blue Springs, Karee had bugged herself.

Now the four news-bearers stood before the entrance to Djoh’s tent. “Djoh, it’s Karee. May I come in?”

Djoh rose but said nothing when Chuhk, Buhrl, and Lewee followed Karee in. “Greetings. To what do I owe this honor?”

Both Chuhk and Buhrl looked at Karee. She had to lick her lips three times before she could speak without fearing their cracking. They had never been this dry before a battle.

“Djoh, you have fought as one of the Kindred. Will you take the oaths by Sacred Sun and all else lawful, to be one of us? You cannot remain neither free nor prisoner, after what you have done.”

Karee knew that her voice was not as steady as she had hoped. Even if her voice had been steady, Lewee Half-Thumb’s expression would have given the game away. He was openly gloating at the possibility of Djoh’s refusing the oath and dooming himself.

Would that we could have refused to allow Lewee to come. But then those who say no Dirtman is worth more than the dirt he turns would wag their tongues, and some might be ready to do more. Chief Djimmi has placed a burden on Djoh and me, but it was a matter in which he had no choice, as chief of Clan Marshul.

“We are grateful, and so are the kin of those you saved,” Chuhk added. “But we cannot put the clan in danger to show our gratitude.”

Djoh’s smile was curiously lopsided. Or perhaps there was nothing curious about it. Only a witling could be unaware of the choice he faced.

“Your gratitude won’t go as far as letting me go home, will it?”

Karee swallowed. “No.”

“When we march against Blue Springs? Do you think we are fools?” Lewee cried.

Djoh’s smile froze. Karee’s heart nearly did the same, because in that freezing of his smile, like a stream in the depths of winter, she saw his answer.

“Most of the Kindred are not fools,” Djoh said quietly. “It has been an honor, if not always a pleasure, to be among you. Yet there is one fool here. Lewee, did you think to tell me the secret so that you would have an excuse for killing me?”

The look on Lewee’s face nearly made Karee draw her sword on the spot. From the look on Chuhk’s face, it was a plausible theory that hadn’t occurred to him. He felt ashamed that a Dirtman had been wiser than he, in the presence of three of the Kindred.

He also had his hand somewhat closer to the hilt of his sword than he had a moment ago.

“Karee,” Djoh said, and for the first time his smile vanished entirely. “Karee,” he repeated, and she had never heard her name pronounced so. It was almost a caress, of a kind not to be received in the presence of others.