Diut held her until her spasm of weeping passed. He spoke no words of comfort, but in the Kohn way, he allowed his coloring to fade to the rare gray of grief and mourning. The color, like the emotion it symbolized, was a private thing. It was an admission not only of inner pain, but of helplessness and human vulnerability. A Hao was the personification of Kohn power, a being who must show only strength before his people. But now, alone with one who shared his pain, he was free to admit his own vulnerability, free to let Alanna know that she did not grieve alone. To her, his coloring said as much as words could have from a Missionary man, and she had long ago realized that she preferred the silent Kohn ways to the Missionary groping for words.
After a while, she regained control and ceased crying. She knew that Diut had other things to tell her, and that for the sake of the settlement, she had to compose herself and listen.
“You have made plans while you were away,” she said. “Tell me my part in them.”
His coloring slowly returned to normal. He gave her a long quiet look. “I have heard that your father is in withdrawal.”
“So. I was with him all day. My mother is with him now.”
“Only your father? No others?”
She shrugged. “Me. I have withdrawn.”
“I know of that.” He touched her throat briefly. “It is harder to break away without the ceremony. I knew what I asked of you. But I believed that you were strong enough to do it.”
She accepted this as the combined apology and compliment that it was and acknowledged it with a nod.
“How is your father?”
“Well. We may have found a Missionary counterpart for the returning ceremony.” She told him briefly of the experiment with hypnosis. He seemed to understand.
“Verrick tests this way then. But if it works as he hopes, will he order other Missionaries to use it now or will he wait until he has moved them north?”
Alanna thought for a moment, realized that though she had not considered the question before, she knew what the answer had to be. “I think he will wait, because of Natahk. I think he will not want the people exposed to Natahk’s anger—as he will be exposed himself s” She told him of Natahk’s recent arrogance and its cause. By the time she finished, he had yellowed slightly.
“Verrick must choose his own way,” he said. “But if he waits as you say, the Missionaries will be able to carry little more than the supply of meklah that they will need when they leave. Meklah enough for the trip over the mountains and enough to last until they find a place to settle again. They will have to abandon many more of their possessions to the Garkohn than should be necessary.”
Alanna knew he was right, but then, so was Jules in his way. She said nothing.
Diut changed the subject abruptly. “Have you been able to see the captives yet?”
She told him of her visits to the prisoners, of how they had at first refused to eat. That brought more yellow to his coloring.
“And do they all eat now? Has Cheah satisfied them?”
“Most ate today. Tomorrow, I think they will all eat.”
“Then you know how careful you must be. Once their Garkohn guards see that they are all eating, they might decide to tamper with the food whether Natahk has ordered it or not. And he probably has. Deception is easier and safer than force.”
“When will you free them?” she asked.
He thought about it. “I would have done it tonight, had you not managed to get food to them. But now… They will be better able to co-operate with their rescuers when they have all eaten. Also, it would be better if I gave Verrick time to finish his withdrawal. He will need his strength to face the Garkohn when Natahk learns of the escape.” He paused for a moment. “I will wait three days more.”
She felt cold suddenly as she realized that by feeding the prisoners, she had probably saved Jules’s life. If Natahk lost his prisoners and found the leader of his captive Missionaries in the process of breaking free of the meklah, he might be angry enough to kill. But in three more days, Jules would surely be through his withdrawal. Perhaps he would even be strong enough to pretend that the withdrawal had not taken place. At least, he would be strong enough to face Natahk. Alanna had made it possible for Diut to give him that much. Now if only Diut could give him the other thing that he and the Missionaries needed so desperately: A new start.
“How will it be for them in the north?” she asked. “Very bad?”
“Drier,” he said. “Colder. They will live if they want life badly enough.”
“But there are no people there?”
“None.”
“They will live then.” She meant it. The Missionaries were resourceful and their Mission drove them. They could win a struggle against the elements as they and their ancestors had won many such struggles on Earth. Here, as on Earth, it was the struggle against more numerous other peoples that had stopped them.
Diut looked at her. “If Verrick wishes it, I will send a few Tehkohn with him to teach him the best ways of living there.”
She did not have to think to realize that such help could save many lives. She lifted her hand in quick gratitude to lose it in the fur of his throat. He covered it for a moment with his own.
“I did not know how you would greet me when I came here tonight,” he said softly.
She looked at him, startled.
“I wondered whether you would relearn your old way of seeing me, as a distortion of what should be. I looked at you with your Missionaries and tried to see you as one of them.”
“So? And what did you see?”
“That you feared for them. That you were much interested in saving them.”
Alanna met his eyes. “I am, yes. How could I not be?”
“You are one who bargains, Alanna. Are you bargaining with me now for the safety of your people?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her for a long moment without speaking. Then he lay back on the bed. There was white suddenly in his coloring. Amusement. But she knew him now and she was not surprised. “You will never say what I expect you to say. You don’t change.”
“I’ve changed,” she said.
“What do you want of me? Only help for your Missionaries?”
“What should I want of you? We’ve made a child together, you and I. What should I want of my husband?”
He sat up and pulled her close. “Tahneh spoke to me before I left the mountains.” This was the other Hao, the old woman. “She comes with her advice, you know. She said, ‘Let her go with her people if she wants to go. Show her yellow if she wants it and leave her. Let her go or stay of her own free will.’”
“She knew I wouldn’t go,” said Alanna. “She wanted you to know.”
He said nothing.
“In a way, it will be harder for me now,” she continued. “The Missionaries will be so far away… But I couldn’t leave with them. I’m less one of them now than ever. And there is no man for me among them.”
“I have already seen that.”
She glanced at him sharply.