Jules and Neila hurried out, doubtless intent on doing what they could to hold down the carnage.
Alanna stared after them, then looked at Natahk and found him watching her.
“Why did you save him?” he asked.
“He is my father!” she said hotly. Then, watching him, she cooled, performed the mental gymnastics necessary to keep her calm and safe from the rage that had almost destroyed Jules. “Why did you spare him?” she countered.
Natahk made a sound of derision. “He has his uses. And sometimes I pity him. He always fights, yet he must always lose.”
She looked at him with surprise, wondering whether he meant it, whether he was capable of even such a condescending sympathetic emotion as pity. “Will your hunters kill?” she asked, glancing toward the door.
“If they must. Verrick will do what he can to make it unnecessary, and you will do what you can. But if they fight us, some of them will die.”
“You want me to help?”
“Of course. I expect you to be very useful in helping me control your people.”
She stood still, saying nothing. Was this why he had kept her secret and let her remain unaddicted? Because she too had her uses? If that was it, then he must have finally believed her claim that she preferred death to the meklah. Perhaps he feared that she would kill herself in a third withdrawal. But he was not finished.
“I demand little of you really. You would try to keep them out of danger on your own as you just did with Verrick. You do care for them to a surprising extent—surprising considering where your true loyalties lie.”
“I care for them.”
“Show your usefulness then. And perhaps I will begin to forget what you were. Except in one way.” He paused. “Your husband was teaching you to fight.”
“Yes.”
“You move well, and quickly. I will see that your training is continued.”
She ignored this.
“Our Missionaries in the south are also being trained. Most have little strength, but it is surprising what they can be motivated to do.”
Imagining the “motivations,” Alanna felt sick and angry. She moved away from him toward the door. She was about to go out when something occurred to her. “Will you tell Tate Everett that her brothers are dead?”
“So? They were the ones then.”
“Yes.”
“You will tell her yourself. You will see her soon.”
Alanna managed to conceal her sudden fear. “So?”
“Yes, Alanna. Your people are not safe here. The Tehkohn come raiding whenever they wish. Innocent Missionaries are killed. Soon, I must move you all south—where you will be safe.”
He was an animal. He was the one native about whom the Missionaries had been right!
“When?” Alanna demanded.
“Be grateful that I do not tell you. If I did, if I gave you a false time, I have no doubt that Tehkohn would appear at exactly that time. Then I would have to kill you even before I dealt with them. Now go and join your people.”
They went outside together, and for a moment stood in front of the Verrick house and watched. Garkohn hunters were driving Missionaries out of their homes. They were herding the bewildered people onto the common to be surrounded by other hunters. Hunters were already searching emptied houses. One of these last spotted Alanna and started toward her. Natahk waved him away.
“Go and appear to be one of them,” he told her. “It will help you win their trust when the need arises.”
She stiffened, spoke in flat controlled English. “They are my people. I don’t need you to tell me how to handle them.” She walked away without looking back at him.
The Missionaries had been rousted from their morning routines. Some had been driven from their homes only partially clad and more than one was wrapped in only a blanket. The Garkohn action had taken them completely by surprise. They were angry, confused, and in many cases, badly frightened people. Here and there, some of them protested to the silent stolid Garkohn, but the Garkohn ignored them unless they tried to break away from the group and return to their homes. Then they were handled with a swift efficient brutality that usually left them unconscious on the ground—and that warned their neighbors against any similar attempt. A well-trained Kohn fighter—even a low hunter—was much used to killing with his hands.
Near where Alanna stood, Garkohn-Missionary cultural differences caused a problem as five Missionary men leaped to the defense of a hysterical woman who had tried to break through the ring of Garkohn. The speed and fury of the Missionaries’ attack not only stopped the two Garkohn from beating the woman, but very nearly overcame them. Finally, the Garkohn managed to dispose of three of their attackers while the other two dragged the screaming woman back into the crowd. Other men moved to the outside of the crowd to face the approaching Garkohn, protecting their own, taking action against an attacking enemy. This was something that they could understand!
Jules Verrick reached them before Alanna did, and stood off the Garkohn in exactly the right way.
“What do you want? Will you stoop to murdering nonfighters?”
The yellower of the two Garkohn, a huntress, raised a hand to strike Jules out of the way, but her companion stopped her.
