“They think us simple herders,” Gudon agreed. “We prefer it that way.”
“They’re stopping,” Lynan said.
The Chett outriders had closed in on the herd and slowly, like honey on a knife, it oozed to a halt. The carts carrying the tents then formed a corral enclosing all but a dozen of the largest beasts that were led away and pegged nearby.
“The bulls,” Gudon explained.
“Why so many?”
“Trade. Our herd is a large and healthy one. Other clans will give a great deal to have one of our bulls, thinking they are the secret of our clan’s success.”
“And what is the secret of your clan’s success?” Ager asked.
“Our queen,” Gudon said simply.
“Look, there’s Kumul,” Jenrosa said. She had spotted him halfway down the slope. Like the rest, he was transfixed by the sight of the clan and its herd. None of the easterners had expected to see anything of this scale on the Oceans of Grass.
“And here is Korigan,” Gudon said, pointing to a single rider coming their way. Tall and lithe, so confident on a horse, she was easy to pick out. When she reached them, she stopped in front of Lynan.
“Welcome to the heart of the White Wolf clan, your Majesty.” Her beautiful golden face beamed with pride. “You will always be welcome among us.”
Lynan nodded, still in awe. “Thank you, Korigan. I am honored.”
“My people are waiting to meet you all,” she said to everyone, and led the way down the slope to the corral, Kumul joining them as they passed.
As they drew nearer, small children jumped out of the tents and gathered around them. Like most Chetts, they were dressed in simple breeches and shirt, made from either linen or hide, with a cloth poncho over their shoulders. Their hair was cut short, again like most of the adults. Gudon had once told Lynan that among his people hair was a precious resources, used for binding and stitching.
Most of the children’s attention was given to Kumul and Ager, the first so huge he must have seemed like a mountain on legs to them, the second so bent over they were surprised he could ride at all. At first they ignored Lynan; in his poncho and wide-brimmed hat, he could almost have been one of them.
The children were soon joined by a few of the outriders, and the procession finally wound its way to the biggest tent, sitting astride the largest wagon Lynan and his companions had ever seen. The tent was made from several panels of boiled leather, stitched together with thick strands of twined sinew. Each panel was painted a different color, the one above the door also carrying a pictogram of a white wolf.
Before the riders halted there was the sound of a fast-approaching horse. They looked behind them and saw an outrider, his hat hanging from his neck by its cord, his heels dug into his mare’s flanks.
“Gods!” cried Gudon, his face breaking into a wide grin. “It’s Makon!”
The one called Makon waited until he was only a few paces from the group, neatly reined in his horse and leaped from the saddle. To the surprise of the newcomers, he landed on the back of Gudon’s horse. Thin, wiry arms wrapped themselves around Gudon’s waist.
“Gudon! My brother! You have come back to us at last!”
Gudon half-twisted in the saddle and hugged back, giving his brother huge slaps on his back. “I told you I would, karak!”
They fell off the mare and landed in a heap on the ground. The Chetts around them laughed, including Korigan. Lynan and his friends looked on bemused, not sure what to make of it all.
Gudon and Makon stood up, still holding on to each other, their faces split by the widest smiles Lynan had ever seen worn by a Chett.
“This is my younger brother!” Gudon declared loudly.
“We would never have guessed,” Kumul said dryly.
“My queen, what have you been feeding him? He is too tall to be from my family.”
And indeed, now that they were standing, Lynan could see that Makon had at least a hand’s span on Gudon.
“Your life in the east has shrunk you,” Makon said. He waved at the strangers. “And who are these friends you have brought home with you?”
Gudon went to Jenrosa and placed his hand on her shoulder. “This is Jenrosa Alucar, famed magicker from the Theurgia of Stars in Kendra!”
The crowd cheered before Jenrosa could tell them she was only a student and not famous at all.
Gudon went to Ager next. “Ager Parmer, one of the most renowned warriors in Grenda Lear! His injuries come from the Slaver War, where he fought nobly under Elynd Chisal!”
More cheering, and Ager actually blushed. The children that had been staring at him curiously huddled closer, some reaching out to touch him.
Gudon moved to Kumul. “And this is a warrior whose renown is known even to us. The right-hand man of the General who ended the slavers’ attacks on the Chetts. Kumul Alarn, Captain of the Red Shields!”
Lynan thought his ears would burst with the calls and ululations that followed Gudon’s announcement. Even the outriders now dismounted to gather around. All eyes were on Kumul, and Lynan could hear the awe in their voices. “It is him! It is the General’s giant! It is Kumul!”
Lynan was watching Kumul’s reaction. His pale skin flushed deep red; even the gray roots of his close-cropped hair seemed to gain color. Dazed by the adulation, he could say or do nothing. Gudon waited until the cries started to die before moving to Lynan. As he moved to place his hand on Lynan’s shoulder, he stopped and stepped back. Lynan looked around and saw Korigan come to stand next to him. The crowd fell silent then, and waited for their queen to speak. She reached across and removed Lynan’s hat. He squinted hard in the sudden rush of light. When he managed to open them wide enough to see what was going on, he was met by the staring eyes of every Chett around them. One small girl dared to touch Lynan’s pale white hand, but quickly withdrew. Lynan smiled down at her, but she was obviously too frightened to smile back.
“This is Lynan Rosetheme, son of Queen Usharna and General Elynd Chisal. He is a prince of the realm of Grenda Lear. He is a holder of one of the Keys of Power.
“He is the white wolf, and he is come back to us!”
For a moment nothing happened, and then, without a word between them, the crowd as one bowed low as if they were a stand of wheat struck by a single scythe. Even Korigan was bowing. Lynan blinked, his eyes watering from the harsh sun.
After a moment Korigan stood erect, and the other Chetts followed her example. She replaced his hat and held him gently by the arm. “For as long as you wish it, this clan is your family and your home.”
“The white wolf?” Lynan asked Gudon. They were sitting together on a crest overlooking the Chett camp, then-mares cropping grass behind them. Above them stars sprinkled a perfectly clear sky, and beneath them dozens of small fires outlined the corral. They could hear faintly the lowing of the clan’s herd, and occasionally the rumbling call of the bulls.
“Long ago, little master, when my clan was nothing more than a small tribe of two or three families, legend says we were protected from the predations of other tribes by a lone white grass wolf. He could only be seen at night, from far away. He became our totem, and eventually one of our gods.
“And here you are. You came to the Chetts near death, and then were resurrected with skin as white as a mare’s milk, and on your first hunt, single-handed, you slew a grass wolf that threatened our clan’s queen.”
“I was trying to save you,” Lynan said bluntly.
“Truth, little master. But you can see why Korigan would call you the white wolf.”
Lynan hugged his knees. “I don’t want the clan to expect too much of me, Gudon. I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“That will not happen.”
For a while neither of them said anything, until a shooting star flashed above them. Gudon pointed at it. “A good sign. We are protected, you see.”