"So they can't be forced, but they can be bribed?"
Borak smiled and shook his head. "Not really. They think differently to us. If you offered a Mujar two years of comfort to protect your village from a marauding clan, he'd just turn into a bird and fly away. That would be bribery. It doesn't work. Only if he feels he owes you a favour will he do it. So, a Mujar lives with a clan for two years, does his work and gets his comforts. Then a marauding tribe comes along, and the elders ask him for protection. The Mujar will grant it and protect the clan. There's a subtle difference, do you see it?"
Talsy nodded. "Yes. You have to earn their favours. You can't buy them."
"That's it."
"It's almost like… they're the masters and we're the slaves. If they feel we've been good they'll reward us."
Borak grunted, looking annoyed. "You could say that. Only the hill clans make those kinds of bonds, probably because they have no pride."
"But they do get a lot in return. Almost like having a pet god."
Borak banged on the table, making the crockery jump. "They're not gods! Don't go getting any ideas like that! They're useless bastards!"
"Only because they won't let us use them."
He glared at her. "Anyone who licks the arse of a Mujar isn't fit to be called a Trueman. They have no pride! No emotions! They're damned indestructible scum!"
"But they rule the world."
"They don't rule anything! They sit around doing absolutely nothing all their lives. They don't have a will of their own, and no one can inflict his will on them."
Talsy concentrated on her food, losing interest in the discussion. She had her answer, although it did not please her. Borak scowled at her, clearly annoyed. Her withdrawal from the conversation had left him in the lurch just as he warmed to his subject. She finished her meal in silence, unwilling to continue the dispute.
Talsy gazed out of the window, chewing her lip. Her father climbed into the cart while the skinny pony stood patiently between the shafts. Two weeks had passed, and at last Borak was going to the village again for supplies and to chat to his cronies in the tavern. She had endured the wait with well-concealed impatience. Her father only left the house to hunt, but then she had to go with him. She recalled the day they had hunted a bog boar, leaving early in the morning. To hunt such a dangerous animal required a bit of ingenuity, and a long forgotten, but clever hunter had come up with a fairly safe method. It involved building a rude platform in a tree beside a bog boar trail. A barbed harpoon attached to a strong rope was then tied to the base of the tree.
The hunter waited on the platform for several freezing hours until a bog boar wandered past. Then he had to throw the harpoon accurately enough to impale the animal so the barbs found purchase in its flesh. After that, all he had to do was wait for the bog boar to die. This could take hours, or, if the throw was really bad, days. One unfortunate hunter had hooked a bog boar's hind leg, and the enraged beast had kept him trapped in the tree for three days until a wolf pack chanced along and dispatched it.
Borak's throw had killed the beast in less than an hour, and they dragged the carcass home to freeze on the roof. It would provide food for several weeks.
Talsy had kissed and hugged her father goodbye with such effusion that he had raised his brows in surprise, and her heart ached. If her plan worked, she might never see him again. As soon as the cart rattled away down the frozen road and vanished behind a belt of forest, she approached the Mujar. Talsy loosened the rope with shaking hands, excitement and nervousness vying within her. She had decided to release him even if he left her behind. He did not deserve to be thrown into a Pit.
As the rope fell away, the Mujar raised his head and inhaled. He opened his eyes and shoved her away, leaping up. Talsy sprawled with a yelp of surprise and pain. He headed for the door, crossing the room in a few long strides, and Talsy thought she had lost him. Then he slowed and turned. His pale eyes swept the cabin and settled upon her, a frown tugging at his brows.
Talsy held her breath, wondering what he would do. He could call up the wind and turn into a bird, or blast his way through the door. Instead, he walked back to her, looking curious and puzzled. She scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering. His glance raked her, and she was acutely aware of her tousled hair, scuffed sheepskin boots and coarse woollen shirt stuffed into worn brown leather leggings. When his eyes returned to hers, his expression remained perplexed, as if his inspection had told him nothing about her.
"Gratitude."
She knew the ritual now. "Wish."
He inclined his head. "Wish."
Talsy licked her lips, hoping she would choose the right words. "I… I want clan bond with you."
He frowned. "What clan?"
"Me. I – I want to serve you, give you comfort… I can hunt, provide food, build shelter, cook…"
The Mujar held up a hand. "One person is not a clan."
"Two people… you and me. I – I can provide all the comfort you require. Anything. Just take me with you!" The last words came from her heart in a desperate plea.
He regarded her with flat, blazing eyes. "And in return?"
"Er…" Talsy hesitated, uncertain. "Help? Transport?"
He appeared to consider, turning away. His eyes scanned the room again, lingering on the fire. "Do you understand clan bond?"
"Yes. You're free. If you want to leave you will."
He nodded, then turned and pinned her with a hard stare. "That is not a Wish."
"It isn't?"
"No. It is an offer of bargain, of service."
Talsy racked her brains for a suitable Wish. She did not want to waste this valuable favour he was bound to grant in return for freeing him. "Um… protection?"
He glanced around. "From what?"
"Anything. Whatever comes along."
"If I accept clan bond with you."
"Yes."
"And if I don't?"
Talsy bit her lip. "Then I'll make a different Wish."
Chanter approached the fire, holding his hands out to it. The flames leapt, tickling his fingers. It was good to be free of the collar. The Powers answered his call, filling him with their comforting presence. He considered the Lowman girl's bargain. Normally he would not have accepted, for one person was not a clan, nor was two. The comforts she offered were tempting, but he could manage without them. That her Wish was part of the bargain made it hard to refuse. He owed her a lot of gratitude for freeing him, but he had another Wish to fulfil, and she would slow him down. There was no time limit on the first Wish, however, so what difference did it make? Turning, he found her watching him, wringing her hands.
He inclined his head. "I accept clan bond, and your Wish protects you."
The girl sagged, apparently relieved and happy, judging by her broad grin. He shook his head in confusion at her odd emotional response and raised a hand, holding it out, palm up.
"No harm."
"What – what does that mean?"
"It means I shall not harm you."
"Oh." She looked puzzled. "But I thought Mujar couldn't harm anyone."
"We don't like to hurt people, but we can."
"I see."
"And you?" he enquired.
"What?"
"What is your answer?"
Talsy stared at him in confusion, then it dawned on her, and she cursed her stupidity. "Oh, no, I wouldn't try to harm you."
He hesitated. Evidently her reply was wrong, or at least, badly phrased. He seemed to come to a decision. "I am called Chanter."
Talsy had the impression that his name was not something he gave to just anyone, and remembered his refusal to give it to her before.
She smiled. "I – my name's Talsy."