Ktwala,” the king answered, “your presence in our longhouse is payment enough. Even now, our women prepare a feast for you. Til then, your women may glean in our orchards and your warriors may hunt in our forests.”
“We may be night-tossed,” Ktwala answered, “but we’re a hardy people and have much food. Let us repay you for your kindness. Let us prepare a feast for you, and let us not intrude upon the burial of your noble dead.”
“We will not take what little you have.” The king took Ktwala’s hand in his, kissed her fingertips, then said, “After our stewards and warriors have burned our dead, they will find some respite in hunting with your noble clan. But now, I must speak to my captains. Wait here until I return. Then you and I will go to the meadow and talk.”
Maharai watched as he and some of his warriors walked to a nearby hill while the younger Wheel Clan boys remained and played with the Iden children.
“Their chief wants to lie with you in the meadow,” she said. “And that ghost boy wishes to lie with Gidea. I know that look. Remember when we lost Corrie to that warrior from the Preying Bird Clan? Aren’t you worried he’ll try to steal you away?”
“I would not mind him stealing me away.” Ktwala giggled. “And stop being so mouthy. Am I not allowed some joy in my life? Your father is dead, and I am still alive. And look, they are a noble and kind people. They may give us some of their tower science.”
“And those two over there!” Maharai nodded in the direction of two young warriors who stood nearby, one dark-haired and slender, the other pale-haired and slightly stockier. “Their eyes are eating up our poor Tolika.”
“Tolika’s eyes are eating them up as well.”
“I don’t like these Wheel Clan men.”
“Better a Wheel Clan husband.” She laughed. “Or husbands. Than the harsh men of our clan.”
Maharai only knew the harshness of Gidea’s son. “Are Peacock Clan men all harsh, Mother?”
“Have you not seen? You’re only fifteen now, but soon you’ll understand such things. All men do not treat their wives as disdainfully as our men do. How lucky you have been not to meet any Peacock Clan men these past two years! They surely would have taken you from me.”
Maharai walked toward the two warriors. Smiling, bowing, she told them her objections to their lustful gazes, told them all her heart because she doubted they understood her. The pale-haired warrior gestured that he did not understand. The dark-haired warrior said nothing. When she finished speaking, she began walking away but the dark-haired warrior called out to her.
“My name is Lan, not ‘stupid pale-skinned luster’ and I understood all you said just now.”
She swallowed hard. “Did you?”
He shrugged. “I did.”
CHAPTER 9
THE WAR COUNCIL ON THE NEARBY HILL
Atop the nearby hill, Psal waited for his father to speak.
“I like this woman Ktwala and her clan,” the king said to Gaal and his captains. “No doubt some of you have also noticed the beauty of these Iden women.”
“That we have,” Seagen answered. “They’re all lovely.”
“Well,” Lebo said, “not all. But the lovely ones are lovely.”
The king laughed. “In the days of my Father, we stole such women. As many as we desired. In the past, I forbade it. But now…Tsbosso’s treachery, the edict of the neutral clans, and these years of war—well, we can hardly put down our weapons and go about seeking wives, can we? And the lack of women in our longhouses has caused turmoil.”
“But earlier.…” Psal tried to push away his growing fear. “You spoke of an alliance?”
“I cannot afford to leave their brothers alive.”
Psal looked down the hill at the Iden children playing with the Wheel Clan boys near a fire. The small boys in loincloths, their buttocks bare; the girls in hemp or buckskin skirts and beaded necklaces. His heart went out to them. “This is a small, small, small people, Nahas.”
“Not small enough.” Nahas looked down at Ktwala who stood speaking with Ephan.
“Put away your frowning, Chief Studier,” Orian said. “I’ll admit, I feared the consequences of your birth. Many thought Nahas had gone mad when he allowed you to live. Later, when word of your petulance was sung among our towers and we understood that we had a mad prince on our hands, we feared your weakness would influence our good king. And now you are Chief Studier for all our clan. Nevertheless I trust our king’s strength. When you rescued us from our longhouse, I saw a young man who seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, not the pitiful boy I had feared, but—”
“I care little for your fears, Orian.” Psal turned to Nahas. “I challenge the king because I see no logic in his decision. Why make unwanted enemies? Why not create new allies? Why must we murder innocents to take women?”
“With the arrival of Orian’s men, the number in our longhouse has increased,” the king answered. “Many died when Orian’s longhouse was burned. Wives, comfort women, daughters. Women are a necessity.”
“But,” Psal stammered. “You promised an alliance.”
“Strays and unallied they may be,” Seagen said, “But do you think a Peacock sub-clan will keep a covenant with us in time of war? Even a marriage alliance?”
“If we taught them how to keen…just a little, they would not betray us,” Psal said. “Their women would be living with us. Why would they betray the alliance? Remember, also, that in the old times, kidnapped women would put bitterness aside because they knew their men remained alive. But if we kill the Iden men, these women.…”
“Father,” Netophah said, and all eyes turned to the Wheel Clan heir. “The Firstborn’s counsel is wise. The Iden men would not betray us if their women lived among us. If we ally ourselves to them honorably, will we not benefit? Let us repair their tower, give them new keening trees, if they need any, some keening crystals. The Firstborn is well able to prevent their tower from hearing or meeting other Peacock towers.”
“You will dishonor our dead if you spare them,” Cyrt said, his eyes challenging Nahas. “And what will the Qerys longhouse and the others say of such sparing? Or have you forgotten that battle?”
Nahas looked up. The sky treacherously blue, the air fresh, the wind lovely. “No, I have not forgotten.” He took a deep breath, coughed. “The warriors of both clans will hunt together.”
“Father, they are hardly ‘warriors!’” Psal snapped.
“When night comes,” Nahas said, “all the males from both clans will feast together in the Iden longhouse. We’ll kill them there. Then we will send their tower to our stewards. The Iden women will not know of it. Rain is a wise woman. She will convince them their warriors are still alive even though they themselves have been kidnapped.”
“I will not allow it,” Psal insisted.
“Rain
