'Father,' said Tambol, moving to stand rather belligerently inside the circle of elders, 'if we are not spawn of Aang, than what are we?'
'You see what you have done?' Farnee asked.
'All this land was once ours,' Duwan said. 'The Enemy came from the south, and we were a peaceable people, without skill in arms, so that by the time we learned we were overrun, and it was then, to save enough of the race to regenerate it, that the Great Alon led the Drinkers to the north, fighting a rearguard action all the way, losing many.'
'Enough,' Farnee said. 'I will speak.' He rose unsteadily and gazed at Tambol. 'This is for your ears only, my son. I trust, although you are still young and your hide has not begun to harden, that you will have gained enough wisdom from me, your father, to heed my words after you hear.' Farnee seated himself, gazed at the smoke-colored ceiling of the cave.
'It is as the strange one says,' he said softly. 'We were called, although I know not why, Drinkers. We were, the legends say, many. And we lived in peace and plenty. We could not stand against the invaders, for they had weapons of iron. But there were wise men among us, and those wise men sought peace, for it was better to live as pongs, they said, than to die on the sharp points of the masters' weapons. That is all. The rest, uttered by this strange one, is invention.'
'But when this Duwan mentioned a name you knew it,' Tambol said.
'This Alon?'
'One of the many minor dus,' an elder said. 'Du of death. An unpleasant du, and thus, largely forgotten.'
'Hold,' another elder said, rising. 'Some things we have kept within the circle of elders, but we have never lied overtly to our young. I will not lie now.'
'Be quiet,' Farnee said.
'No,' the standing elder said stoutly. 'Tambol is soon to be a member of this circle and he will know then, so I think he should be told all now.'
'Tell him,' another elder said.
The standing elder looked directly into Duwan's eyes. The eider's eyes were pink with age, but still clear and alert. 'We whisper this legend among ourselves, the elders. It speaks of the free Drinkers who fled the wrath of the masters, fighting, slaying the invincible, but being slain themselves. The legend has no name for a leader. You say Alon, and if that, indeed, was his name then it is understandable why he has come to be called a du of death, for the bodies of Drinker and Devourer littered the land leading northward.'
The old man paused and looked around the circle. 'When I was but a new mobile, in the pongpens of Arutan, my mother whispered this story to me. In the lands of ice, to the far north, there are free ones, fierce warriors, ones who escaped, and from them will come a new master, one of supernatural ability who will lead all pongs to freedom. You have all heard this legend.'
'And more,' said another elder, standing. 'I note that this female maintains that the strange one came from the earth. All elders have heard this prophesy, for it, too, was whispered among the hopeless in the pongpens of old.
'He is mighty,' Tambol said. 'I saw him kill four Devourers. This I saw with these eyes.' He faced Duwan. 'Are you this new master, sent to deliver us?'
Duwan was slow to answer. He wished for opportunity to consult with his father, with Manoo the Predictor, with other wise ones among the Drinkers. But he was alone. He was beginning to get a picture of the state of things in the Land of Many Brothers, and he did not like what he saw. According to the free runners, the Enemy was many, was invincible, and yet he'd killed the Enemy without being sorely tested. He longed for home, longed for the welcome sight of the beautiful face of Alning, and the feel of his father's limbs entwining in greeting. He had information. Should he not ease the minds of these poor, deluded ex-slaves? Should he not assure them that they were best advised in keeping to their own meager lifestyle?
They would hunger, and grow old before their time, in the midst of plenty, but who was he to try to erase generations of superstition? That would best be left to older, wiser heads, if, after his return to the valley, it was decided to return to the Land of Many Brothers. And yet there was doubt in him. The Devourers were many, and lived in stone cities. The Drinkers of the North were few. He could not afford to risk the loss of potential allies.
'Are you this new master?' Tambol repeated.
'Only you have used the word 'master',' Duwan said.
'But did you come from the earth?' Tambol insisted.
