as many people as the Tehkohn, but they have never had as much of the blue. The Garkohn Hao had been childless, and the Garkohn judges did not produce another Hao child. As it often happens when people have no Hao to unite them, the Garkohn fought among themselves. The hunters rebelled against the judges’ rule and killed the judges. Now the hunters rule themselves—badly. They had almost ceased to be a threat to us until Natahk gained power, and until your people arrived, Verrick.”
“But we haven’t helped the Garkohn until now,” protested Jules.
“You’ve helped them. Their artisans are even relearning the shaping of metal because of you.”
“But we haven’t shown them!”
Diut only looked at him.
After a while, Jules nodded. “I see. I knew they watched us, though I didn’t think that was the reason—or one of the reasons.”
“You help them in another way also.”
“How?”
“Your people know many things. Things that the ancestors of the Garkohn knew—things that the Tehkohn still know. And yet you are crippled. You cannot conceal yourselves. You cannot see what is in front of you. You fight badly…”
“We fought well enough against you to win!”
“You fought hardly at all, Verrick, and you know it.”
Jules glared at him angrily, but to Alanna’s surprise, he did not deny the charge.
“Natahk gave you information and you shaped it into a plan. Your part in that plan was to make noise, kill a few unwary farmers, and lure my fighters down from the upper levels of the dwelling to the floor of our valley where they could be killed more easily. You made your noise, and it was new and terrifying to my people. But when my fighters arrived, you had to be protected by Garkohn hunters.”
Jules was quietly furious. “We let them protect us so that we wouldn’t shoot them by accident, mistaking them for Tehkohn. Your people were not hurt nearly as badly as we could have hurt them—as we might still have to hurt them.”
“Threats, Verrick? Even as we talk of peace?”
With an effort, Jules controlled himself. “You are here to talk peace. Why do you talk of fighting instead?”
“Because you must understand what you are—why you are of value to Natahk. You can think, but you cannot fight. You are judges to whom hunters need not be subject. There are few traditions to protect you because you have no blue.”
“We are human beings! We…”
“You are Garkohn now in Natahk’s eyes. Your people were stolen to make you Garkohn. Look for them at the Garkohn farming town where they form the tie that joins you to Natahk.”
Slowly, Jules’s expression changed from indignation to comprehension. “Do you mean they’re hostages? Does Natahk intend to use them to force us to obey him?”
“That would be unnecessary. You obey him now. The tie is custom. Two peoples are not truly united without it. You might find it distasteful custom though.” He gestured toward Alanna. “This one has told me of your beliefs.”
“What are you saying?” demanded Jules.
“That Garkohn-Missionary children exist now. That more will be ‘born.”
There. It was out. Alanna waited for Jules’s reaction. It came, explosively, a shouted jumble. Alanna recognized some of the milder arguments. That it was not possible. That the differences between Kohn and human were too great… They were the same arguments that she had repeated to herself when she realized she was carrying Diut’s child.
She was glad she had been open with Diut, had told him just how strong the Missionary prejudice was. Now he was hearing it again much more vehemently from Jules. He was hearing that he was an animal, and he seemed more amused than angry. His coloring whitened slightly. Then he seemed to become bored with the tirade. He stood up and looked around the cabin. Near the fireplace, Jules’s ax leaned against the wall. Diut walked to it, picked it up, and examined its double-edged steel head.
Jules had fallen silent the moment Diut left his chair. Now he watched warily as Diut handled the ax. He probably knew that Diut needed no weapon to kill him. Most Kohn fighting was weaponless, in fact. Fighters leaped on each other from camouflage. Weapons made their camouflage less effective. Nevertheless, the sight of the Tehkohn Hao armed with an ax was undoubtedly terrifying. Alanna watched Jules, hoping that he would not give way to his fear.
And Jules watched Diut until Diut put the ax back in its place. Jules did not sigh with relief then, but his hands did loosen their convulsive grip on the table. Diut returned to his seat.
“Your artisans know their craft,” he said quietly. “There are things you could teach even us about the working of metal.” It was the first overture of anything resembling friendliness that he had made, but Jules was in no frame of mind to notice it.
“I can’t believe the kind of crossbreeding you’re talking about is possible,” said Jules. “I must have proof.”
“Ask Natahk for it. Perhaps he will give it to you now while he is still drank with his victory. What will you do if he does?”
Jules looked stubborn, said nothing.
“Or perhaps it would be better if you did not ask him. He has shown surprising gentleness in his handling of you so far. As long as you obey him, you are left alone to live as you wish. He does not have to waste large numbers of his hunters controlling you and you have at least the illusion of freedom. You might be more comfortable holding on to that illusion.”
