Outside, Wessli handed Niko a bow. The Ehleenee pulled it. It was much heavier than it looked, but with extra effort, he brought the string to his cheek. He let it down slowly and nodded. With a full quiver and his eating knife, his armament was complete. Niko noted that Wessli’s bow was a bit larger. He also strapped a scabbarded sword to his back. A small axe hung on a loop at his belt, and each boot carried a slender throwing dagger.

They left on foot. “We’d spook every deer for miles if we rode,” Wessli said. “By the way, did you have a nice night?”

“Oh, it was great, slept well,” Niko answered. “Sorry I had to disappoint the girl, though. I made a vow, uh, six weeks of purity. Perhaps if I return, maybe—” They were far enough from the camp that Wessli’s belly laugh couldn’t awaken anyone. “We’re not that fearsome, are we? What did you think she was going to do? Cut it off?”

Niko stopped to wait for the humor to wear itself out. Finally Wessli’s chortling calmed, and Niko said, “I can’t figure you people out. I come here to find that Kehnooryos Ehlas is still a freshly bitter memory, and yet you offer me real friendship, and the girl . . . she didn’t even tell me her name! I just don’t understand.” “There’s nothing to understand. No one who treats us fairly need fear us. I know you are honest. Yet you are afraid.”

“The traders are afraid of you.”

“Certainly. There isn’t one of them that wouldn’t cheat us if he had the chance. We choose to live here, in freedom, on the plains, instead of cooped up in the choking stink of your cities. Does that mean that we should be easy to cheat? Hardly. They have no chance to rob us. But they earnestly desire it. We can read that too easily in their festering minds. But not in yours.” He pointed to the hills. “Let’s go. We have an hour of darkness to get to that ridge, if we’re going to eat deer tonight!”

They set off at a brisk walk. A four-footed shadow veered away from them and padded back toward the camp.

* *

“Wessli isn’t pretending anymore,” Stripes said. He and the black-hair are genuinely becoming friends.”

Coopuh sipped the strong green tea his first wife had brewed, “The Ehleen is young; he doesn’t prejudge us like most of his small-minded people. Perhaps that is what has attracted Wessli’s trust.” He pondered the peculiar situation in a wordless rapture, waiting for intuition to guide him. The traditions of a thousand encounters between the Horseclans and the Ehleenee collided with an infinity of possibilities which a friendship between Wessli and Niko generated. The history of the past grated against the experience of the present. “I can’t force their feelings one way or another,” Coopuh finally said. “Stripes, stay in the camp. Give them a chance to succeed in their hunt. They must have a chance to find a common ground of friendship. If the Ehleen learns to respect our ways from his heart, and if he really has the notion to trade, perhaps we may choose to keep MacCray and his ilk out of ou,r dealings altogether.”

Stripes growled quietly, vaguely unsure about the clan leader’s decision. But Wessli could take care of himself. The soft little Ehleenee with no calluses on his body could not possibly be a threat to even a Horseclans child, let alone a scion of Coopuh grown adult-tall.

With a curse, Bilijo MacCray snapped the Dirtman seeing glass shut. The smartmouth Ehleen brat had actually lived through the night! Now the little bastard was going out with one of ’em—to hunt! Damn! Now there was no way to claim all that steel and silver for his own. The little moron had no idea what it was worth; he’d give all that treasure away to those thieving killers. Damn!

There weren’t no way to sneak aboard the ferry, even if I’d known, he thought. The little bitch thinks he likes her, the stupid slut. Maybe my reddening all four o’ her cheeks’ll give her something to think about. A gold and two silvers to get across! I ain’t taken the full fare out o’ her hide yet, that’s fer sure. And how’d he ride so fast on that fat arse of his? It couldn’t’ve been luck to find ’em without wanderin’ around out here for a few months. That bigmouth bitch must’ve told him! Told him our secrets! Damn! I’ll show that little whore what that big mouth is for, soon’s I get back to Santalu!

He led the horse two miles away, to the far side of the next ridge, and hobbled it there, grinning that all the noise had probably driven whatever game there was right into their laps. They’d be so busy with their kills that they’d never notice him coming. His mouth was quite calm; he was sure those killer lions the clans had trained were nowhere around. Too bad he couldn’t use a bow, since he was a great shot, but an unguarded Horseclans boy was too much of a prize. He’d kept the manacles at his belt oiled for years, waiting for an opportunity like this. His bitch daughter and the Ehleen pig might rob him blind, but why pass up the opportunities to recoup that destiny provides?

The sun came up. Bilijo MacCray, hidden in a dense thicket, shielded the long tube in which the seeing glass was mounted from an accidental telltale glare and searched the hills a half mile away. He was a patient man when he had to be. In an hour he located their faces, and in a moment he had memorized the spot with his bare eyes. The sun moved its slow way across the sky, and the shadows twisted under him.

The game trail was apparently well traveled, but Niko had had the only good shot all day, and missed. The sun had gone down before they decided to stop their vigilance.

“ThereTmore deer out here than this,” Wessli said. “This is the first day I’ve seen less than ten right here at this spot.”

“We’ve got enough food for at least one more day.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Sure,” said Niko, “but how was I to know that?” They laughed together.

It wasn’t long before they had a little fire and some warm tea. Niko told his new friend of life in the great city of Santalu, which might have been exciting once, but here in the wilderness, the hectic busyness of it all seemed like so much unpleasant raucous noise. Far more interesting were the tales of Horseclans history which Wessli shared, the wars with the Dirtmen over the theft of the prairie, the ancient rivalry with the Ehleenee, the great heroes of the clans: Blind Hari, whose songs had united them, and Milo of Morai, the God Who Walks Among Them, even to this day. Their tales meandered from the great legends to each one’s everyday events, which profoundly fascinated the other. Most of all, Niko and Wessli enjoyed the strange and joyous experience of rapport with a creature from another world. The stories totally absorbed both teller and listener, so that neither of them heard the faint, almost silent approach of the two-leg predator. Finally sleep crept up, and Niko dozed off, pondering the incredibly good fortune to have met this “barbarian” who had not only offered friendship but had taught him how little absolute value his “civilized” way of life really had.

Only a> few embers still glowed as darkness approached. The two young men could be easily distinguished by the color of their hair. A powerful fist gripped the short iron bludgeon more tightly.

It was a sharp, unnatural sound, something heavy falling at his feet. Wessli instantly sat up and groped for his knife. Then his vision was filled with a bright light as intense pain exploded in the right side of his head.

Niko awoke to see a big man standing over the limp body of his friend. He scrambled to his feet, hearing the ominous metallic clatter of chain and locks. No weapons! He backed away, but the big man threw his prize to the ground and sprang at him, clutching his shirt in a strong fist. Something sharp touched his throat.

“Havin’ a nice time with yer new little friend? Didn’ expect to see me out here, didja?”