Marisue’s admonition burned in Niko’s mind: Don’t show fear! He answered their question perhaps a bit too loudly.

“Yes. I am Ehleenee.”

A few wiry hands moved, came to rest on hilts and

hafts.

“As I said, I’m from the Great City, Santalu. I was born there. Until I left to come here, less than a

fortnight ago, I had never traveled farther than the immediate environs of the city.”

Don’t say too much! Niko watched Coopuh in the long pause, not glancing around nervously. Finally the clan leader spoke in the alien accents of his people.

“Did you have relatives in Kehnooryos Ehlas?” Coopuh asked, as twoscore clansmen had shouted in his mind to do.

“The siege of Kehnooryos Ehlas was four generations ago. If I had relatives there, I was never told so. The depravity of the Ehleenee of that city was burned out by the valor of the Horseclans. I am not a soldier, but that does not mean that I am degenerate! I am Ehleenee. I do not apologize for that.”

Don’t push! Niko desperately wanted to see all of them. Unable to contain himself, he dared a slow look from one end of the line of stern faces to the other. The distrust was universal, but no pair of eyes spoke silent murder in the night. He wondered if they could see the pulse pounding in his neck.

The thoughts of the clan flowed at Coopuh.

“That Ehleeneekos gibberish—I can’t understand a word of it!”

“He’s afraid and strong at the same time.”

“He wants something here, but I can’t figure what it is.”

“Something about our weapons—well, he’s not a soldier, that’s for sure. Look at his hands.”

None of the faces moved, not even to blink. Niko felt the sweat run on his face. He knew the history of Ehleen pillage, and like all the folk of his generation or his father’s, he was ashamed of it. There were no more brothels where chained, kidnapped slaves awaited their repeated degradations in despair.

Coopuh spoke. “What have you brought to offer us?” he asked, and instantly the sharp tension in the air was gone. Clansfolk shifted their feet, a baby began to cry. Niko drew a deep breath. At least he would survive to see the dawn!

“I have knives, and fine steel for your smiths. I also have silver ingots. There is also some cloth, called iinen,’ which is particularly pleasant to wear during the hot months. I have seen your carvings; for the artists who make them, I have some rare woods which grow only a thousand or more leagues to the south.”

“No Ehleenee has ever come to barter here before. Perhaps they consider it unclean to deal with us directly.”

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself. I am here.”

A young man about Niko’s age left the circle and came forward with a small object in his hand.

Coopuh shouted, “No, Wessli! It is not yet time!” Wessli turned to face the leader. “He has spoken the truth, clan leader. I see no harm in him. He will be mine for tonight.” Before Coopuh could interrupt, the boy raised a small bowl to the Ehleenee’s lips. “Drink this!” he said.

Marisue had prepared him for the gesture, but not the flavor. It might have been milk once, but it was sour, sharp, and alcoholic all at once. Niko shuddered and swallowed, handing the small bowl back to the young clansman, who sipped in his turn.

The boy faced his clan. “Nikomedes and I have shared drink. Let him be your guest as well as mine this night.” He waited until they began to turn away to their evening tasks, the hostility gone. He turned back to the startled Ehleenee. “I am Wessli of Coopuh,” he said, extending his hand to clasp the newcomer’s in the customary manner of the city folk.

“Among my friends, I am called Niko,” the young trader replied. He responded with a clumsy attempt at the Horseclans greeting gesture, and both of them smiled.

The tent was smoky, and to Niko’s discomfort, somewhat crowded. One fellow worked a piece of metal with a burin, two girls silently embroidered a shirt with fine stitches in red and green thread, while a younger couple pursued vigorous erotic games on a huge fur coverlet, most likely a bear pelt.

“So you really can read minds?” Niko asked. “Were you reading mine during the clan meeting?”

Wessli grinned. “We were trying. But you think in your own language. We couldn’t figure you out. It’s not that way with the traders, though. They’ve learned better than to pretend anything. They may not like us any more than we like them, but they would never dare cheat us.” He pointed to the two girls. “Look at them. They’ve been talking without a pause since we came in. The one on the left thinks you might—”

The girl looked up with a dangerous frown. There was a pause, and then Wessli said, “If she wants you to know what she thinks, she’ll tell you.”

“Can’t you ever be private?”

“Sure! But it takes effort to keep minds out. Why should we?”

Niko shook his head. The truth of these people was far stranger than the rumors or legends.

“You can’t be used to riding this far,” Wessli said. “The traders bring whatever we wish to sell across the Great River. So what is it that you want? Why are you here?”

Niko looked at the ground, made spirals in the dirt with his fingers. “I gave an oath that I would prove my courage,” he said. “I swore to do it here, among the Horseclans. I could never face my people back in Santalu if I don’t do what I said I would.”

“Are we as fearsome as that? Well, anyway, you’re here, and we can talk, and I’m not cutting your bowels out, am I?” He laughed again. It was a merry sound.

Niko looked up and caught Wessli’s eye. “Isn’t it true? Don’t you torture people that way?”

“I’ve only seen it once. The man was a traitor. He deserved it.” A smile played at the corners of his lips. “We don’t disembowel people every day.”

“To answer your question, yes, you are fearsome. I had a thought I might be killed, standing where I was.”

Wessli shook his head. “That was Coopuh testing you. You were never in danger. If anyone had really threatened you, I would have stopped it.”

“But why?”

“Because I trust you.” Wessli yawned. “There’s no rush. Your goods will be safe here. We do not steal from guests. I’m going hunting tomorrow—like to come along?”

Niko grinned. “Yes! I’ll have to borrow a bow, though. I didn’t bring any weapons.”

“I know.” He yawned again and reclined on his pile of furs, asleep in a moment.

Niko was looking around, wondering where he was going to sleep, when the girl who had challenged Wessli reached out to him.

“Sleep here,” she said with a smile. Her accent was hard to understand. Niko was exhausted. He nodded in gratitude and lay back on an edge of the furs.

That wasn’t good enough for the girl. She pulled him to the center of the warm pile, and then tugged off his shirt and pants. “Legs hurt from the long ride? I’ll mb them.”

It felt immeasurably fine. Niko wondered how Wessli had learned to speak the common parlance of the city so well, while this girl seemed to know only the strange argot of the Horseclans. I’ll ask him tomorrow, he thought.

Strong hands rolled him over. “Ahh!” she exclaimed. “Your hafr is really black, not paint! Maybe I’ll get a black-haired boy, eh?”

Niko swallowed. Marisue hadn’t prepared him for this.

The sky was still black when Niko felt a strong hand shake him awake. He opened his eyes upon a strange place where the smells were all strange, and the silence was absolute. For a moment he spun in the disquieting vertigo of not knowing where he was or who these people were until it came to him in a flash—he was days and days away from his home in Santalu, in a tent with half a dozen Horseclans folk! He looked down to see a naked girl curled up next to him. Vaguely he remembered his clothes being removed, but now, for some reason, he was already dressed. He stumbled up.

“Those shoes will never last,” Wessli whispered. “Wear these.” He handed Niko a pair. The boots were soft and snug, and fit him perfectly. Niko made a note to be sure they were included in the trade.