from Yuri and she had to cough violently to stop herself from laughing. Bakhtiian stared at them for a moment, as if puzzled. He drew himself up very straight and advanced on them sternly. Yuri's glee vanished like a flake of snow on fire.
'Oh,' he said, eyes widening. 'I take it all back, Tess.'
'All of it?' Bakhtiian halted in front of the young man, arms crossed.
'Help!' said Yuri faintly, but Tess started to laugh. Yuri stared at her in horror. Bakhtiian climbed up to sit on the rock, with Yuri between him and Tess. He wiped dust from his hands.
'Well,' he said to Yuri, 'it is my experience that when a woman shows interest in a man's looks, he'd best begin to pay attention.'
'What!' Tess's laughter vanished. 'I deny everything.' She blushed.
'I keep my looks,' said Bakhtiian with dignity, still looking at Yuri, 'by not indulging in frivolity.'
'He must have been a dull child,' said Tess to Yuri.
'And a dull youth,' said Yuri.
'And I fear he's becoming a dull man,' finished Tess. She glanced surreptitiously at Bakhtiian. It might have been that he was blushing slightly, or perhaps only the brisk wind on his cheeks, but in any case he had found something in the camp that attracted his gaze.
'I don't really believe it,' said Yuri to Bakhtiian. 'You must have been the boy in the middle a hundred times before you were twenty.'
'At the risk of destroying your very gratifying faith in me, Yuri, I must be honest with you. It pains me even now to remember how very thoroughly I was ignored by the girls when I was young.'
'I don't believe it,' said Yuri.
'It might even have partially influenced my decision to go to Jeds. And of course there was-' He paused and seemed to change his mind about something. 'Nataliia,' he finished.
'Of course.' Yuri stared at Bakhtiian as though he had never seen him before. 'Ilya, I-' He flushed. 'I didn't mean to…'
Bakhtiian's gaze flashed past Yuri to Tess and immediately returned to Yuri. Tess suddenly got the impression that this entire conversation was between her and Bakhtiian, with Yuri serving simply as the intermediary. A small, rodentlike animal rushed across rock, paused to look at them, and ran on, disappearing into the tiny crevasse.
'Your sister Nataliia?' Tess asked.
'Yes,' he answered, still looking at Yuri. He smiled slightly. 'Growing the beard may have helped.' He stroked the dark line of his beard absently.
'Men! You're all of you vain.'
'We have to be,' said Yuri, turning to Tess. 'Since we live every moment of our lives subject to the whims of women.'
'Do you?'
'Yes,' said Yuri and Bakhtiian at the same moment.
Tess opened her mouth to reply, closed it, and shrugged.
'Ilya,' said Yuri. 'What did you find at the temple?'
Bakhtiian shut his eyes. The high ring of sabers startled Tess. Down in the camp, several men were practicing. 'Nothing that I ever want you to see, Yurinya. So. We ride at dawn tomorrow.''
'That bad?' asked Yuri.
'Autumn also brings the early storms, here by the mountains. We're ten or fifteen days now from the shrine of Mo-rava. We have to reach the port before the ships stop sailing for the winter months.'
'It must have been terrible,' said Yuri to Tess.
'I brought you something,' said Bakhtiian. A flat tone of metal from below, a curse, and laughter. 'A gift from the dead. Run down to my tent and bring me the long leather sack. There is something for Tess, too.'
'Of course!' Yuri scrambled off the rocks, dust spraying down after him, and ran down into camp.
'Where I come from,' said Tess, resting her elbow on one knee and turning her head to look directly at Bakhtiian, 'we call that contriving to get rid of someone without insulting them.'
Bakhtiian smiled. 'I believe it's called much the same thing everywhere. I want to apologize to you.'
'For what?'
He stared down at his hands. Eyes lowered, he looked so incongruously modest that she had to smile. 'At the temple. My behavior was… inexcusable. For a man to behave toward a woman in such a fashion is… shameful.'
'Ilya! We did that to save lives.'
He did not look up. The brown rodent ran out from the crevasse and halted on the next rock, its bright eyes fixed on them. 'Please believe that I would never have done such a thing if I'd been thinking clearly, but I never think clearly when I'm in battle.'
'No, you think quickly, and that is why you're a good commander.''
He glanced up at her. 'You don't hold it against me?'
'Bakhtiian!' She slapped a hand down on her thigh. The little animal scrambled away. 'Did you ever see a play in Jeds?' He nodded. 'We were acting. It was a scene played out for that moment, nothing else.'
'I learned well enough in Jeds how lightly they hold such violence.' He studied his palms where they lay open in his lap. 'This is not a thing that is ever spoken of between men and women, but should a jaran man ever try-may the gods forgive me for even thinking of such a thing-to force a woman, he would be dead the next instant. And no man would lift a hand to stop the women from executing their justice.'
'There are many things I admire about the jaran, and that is one of them.' She lowered her voice. 'Ilya, you and I understand why it was done. Every man in this jahar understands.' Reflexively, she smoothed the silky soft sleeve of the red shirt she now wore.
He shrugged conciliatorily and at last met her eyes. 'You don't think I'm a demon?'
'No.' She could not resist smiling. 'Though I liked Keregin's suggestion that you called the arenabekh from- what did he say? — from the depths of your fire-scorched heart. Did they all die?'
'I hope so, since those who did not would have been taken prisoner by the khaja.'
'And the horses?'
'Those too badly injured I killed. The others-' He gestured below, '-as you see, though not all will be able to keep our pace. Here is Yuri.' And it occurred to Tess that Bakhtiian's own remount had not come back with him.
Bakhtiian jumped down from the rocks, took the bag from Yuri and, rolling down the edges, carefully lifted sabers out and placed them side by side on the ground.
'Gods!' exclaimed Yuri. Tess merely gaped. Light flashed from the blades.
'Spoils,' said Ilya. 'I thought they would rather we had them than the khaja. I couldn't carry many, so I took the ten best. And an eleventh, for myself.' He looked at Tess. 'Tobay. Do you remember? His saber is as good as his arm.' He reached down. 'Here, Yuri. This one for you.'
'But, Ilya, it's beautiful.' Yuri tested it, turning his arm, feeling its weight. 'I can't possibly deserve it.'
'Perhaps it will inspire you to practice as often as you should. This for Mikhal. Oh-' He laughed, picking up another by its ornate, jeweled hilt. 'This for Vladi, of course.' He replaced them one by one in the bag until there was only one left: a delicately curved thing that rang when he struck the blade with his nail. 'Cousin,' he said to Tess. 'Our kinsman Yurinya did very poorly for you when he got you a saber. He must have applied to his most miserly cousin who could scarcely bring himself to begrudge you his third blade, and only a few men have two. That you have any aptitude for saber at all is incredible, considering how ill-balanced and ill-wrought that thing is. I suggest you take it off, cast it in the dirt, and forget you ever knew it.' He held out the saber. She stared at it. When he put it into her hands, the metal cold on her fingers, she merely continued to stare, until she saw the mark.
'This is Keregin's saber. I remember this mark. Is it a rune? I can't take this.'
'I think he would have been pleased to know you inherited it. It was the finest blade on the field. Yes, that is a rune on the hilt.'
'What does it mean?'
Bakhtiian frowned. 'It can't be explained in one word. It means, the soul that finds the wind that will bear it the highest and does not shrink from being borne. The soul that does not fear being swept up into the heavens. The
