"You weren't concerned for the holy grounds?" Jathmir asked.
"No. If they had known where the citadel stood, they would have since turned north. I considered it, and it seemed we had little to lose. They were good warriors, certainly better than Am or Roel. Why not add them to our ranks? We will be needing fighters of exceptional caliber soon."
Jathmir nodded gradually. "True, but it is rare that theniutap is invoked upon individuals not of the Eastern Deserts. They may not understand the irrevocability of the ritual. We can't waste men continually guarding them."
"No," Lonal conceded. "We'll watch them only a few days, until the march to Ahloorm begins. I believe I can convince them by then of the wisdom of staying. And if they try to escape, where in the desert could we of the T'lil not track them? If they are too much trouble, they can be dealt with at the time."
When no further comment arose, Toltac and Jathmir leaned closer to each other and exchanged a handful of words that none but they two could hear. Jathmir straightened up and announced, "In that case, son of Joren, the niutap is confirmed. It is up to you to do as you've promised."
The mood of the crowd grew more intense. A bead of sweat formed at the end of Lonal's nose. The first matter of the night, really no more than a formality, had been resolved. No one there had seriously believed the priesthood would embarrass their war-leader by failing to support him in a matter traditionally within his prerogative. Not so the next matter.
Toltac himself spoke. "War-leader, when you adopted these persons, did you suspect that one of them…might not be a man?"
"No," Lonal said.
Toltac lowered his head, shadows thick under his brow. "I understand that they gave you male names, and to be sure, one would not guess that someone wearing the white would be female. Still, if this is the case, the laws of the So-de'es are explicit." The aged Bo-no-ken's eyes fixed on Lonal. On his countenance the lines of desert wind and many years were prominent.
Despite himself, Lonal trembled.
Jathmir's voice dominated a somber tent. "The Po-no-pha and its leader will retire from these walls. The ken must deliberate privately."
Slowly the warriors filed out, leaving only the circle of the priesthood. The holy men all looked like workers preparing for hard labor.
Lonal wandered to the central firepit, glad to be out under the open sky. As he stared at the embers, several of the Po-no-pha, mostly those whose ranks were only slightly below his, began to mill next to him. A low babble of voices travelled across the camp.
"Well, what are the chances?" Lonal asked.
R'lar, a lanky, desert-worn individual, and, as it happened, one of Lonal's uncles, said, "Females are always trouble."
This brought more laughter than it deserved, but it broke the tension.
"True," Lonal said dryly.
An imposing form shifted to the forefront. "I'm sorry, war-leader," Shigmur said.
Lonal shrugged and draped an arm about the shoulders of his huskiest second. "No, my friend, you only compounded the disaster. You may have to offer up your robes and your testicles, but I have offended God." The payment for that was worse than ritual castration and loss of rank. He faced banishment, the severest penalty of all.
Shigmur stooped to stir the coals and toss more oeikani dung on the fire. "It's ironic. After the duel, I told myself, 'So now Lonal's not the only man of the T'krt who can best me with a sword.' Then she dropped the veil."
Lonal chuckled. "She used a trick. It wouldn't have worked again. Nor would you have been so polite."
"I only meant to discipline, not humiliate," Shigmur said. "I was afraid she would fall over if I breathed too hard."
"Now it's all the worse," R'lar said. "Our war-leader has adopted a woman, and one of our best has been beaten by her. The men of the Alyr will laugh at us. Such a loss ofhaiya as could have been arranged by our enemies."
"Now there's an idea," said Granyet, a young Po-no-pha. "Do you suppose?"
"No," Lonal answered. "Even the Buyul and the Fanke would not conceive of it. It would offend the laws of God even more than what I have done."
"Holy law could be wiser," R'lar said forcefully, though not so loudly that those in the great tent would have any chance of hearing.
"Ah, but Uncle, the other tribes will judge us by those laws, just as we judge them. We are Zyraii, the noble of God. If we are to ask the tribes to rally behind me in battle, I must not only fail to be banished, I must be known as a righteous man. I must behai-Zyraii. I cannot be opsha without the sanction of the ken any more than without the respect of the common people."
"But you must be opsha. You are the son of Joren. You're the only one who could manage it. Even the Alyr concede that fact in their hearts."
"The legend of an opsha could be only another mirage of the desert. Perhaps our people are meant to lose command of the trade routes."
"Tocity-dwellers?" R'lar spat.
Lonal withdrew into silence while R'lar, Shigmur, and Granyet continued to debate, not so much because they disagreed, but out of frustration. They didn't like feeling helpless. Like the majority of adult males, they were Po-no-pha. They herded, they raided, they conducted commerce. But on moral issues, they relinquished all authority. The Bo-no-ken dictated what was right, the Ah-no-ken spread the word and saw that it was heeded; and that was the way life was among the Zyraii.
"Priests and women – fah!" R'lar muttered.
The ken did not call the Po-no-pha back into the great tent until nearly dawn. The time had passed slowly, and Lonal walked into the circle red-eyed and stiff-kneed. The expressions of the priests mirrored his own.
Toltac's words were metered and precise. They were more than an announcement; they were a command.
"The laws of the So-de'es state that a woman may not wear white or carry weapons, nor shall any Zyraii sanction such behavior upon peril of exile. And it has been seen by this clan that the strangers who call themselves Tebec and Yetem have done these things. Therefore, both are men, whatever the appearances may be, and from this day forth, no member of the tribe will say otherwise."
Toltac's voice echoed slightly before the reaction arrived. The war-leader had been saved. At the same time, it was difficult to believe what the price had been.
When the crowd had calmed themselves enough to listen again, the opsib continued, "Every member of the tribe is called upon to assist in the education of this pair. They will learn our language, be inducted into the rituals of manhood and ordeal of the Po-no-pha. When they have completed these, the adoption will be finalized and, should they later earn it, they may be admitted to the rites of thehai-Zyraii. I have spoken."
Lonal and Toltac exchanged stares, and the war-leader saw the revolution that had taken place within the opsib to have permitted the decision. Toltac knew that without Lonal, he risked becoming opsib of a defeated people. The word of God had been swayed by practical necessity. But the message was blatant: No man, however important to the welfare and future of the tribe, would manage such a feat again. At this moment, if they were all to look up with the proper sort of vision, no doubt they would see the foundations of Heaven trembling.
VII
KING'SRANSOMLOLLED IN THE CALMwaters off the Cilendri coast, sails slack. At some distance to the west, a ketch and a sloop of its fleet tacked lazily, nets out. The fine weather invited the men to indulge in a swim, but despite the grime of shipboard life, none did so. Some sunned; still more slept; none strayed far from their posts. The lookout was vigilant in the crow's nest, and unease wandered from face to face among the crew.
Three figures occupied the smallest of the four cabins at the stern. A man about forty-five years of age, and a woman near thirty, stood watching a much older man seated at a small, finely wrought hardwood table.