She stared down at her own brown leg. “I thought I was prepared for anything you might say. ‘Yes, I believe.’ ‘No, I don’t believe.’ ‘Yes, I want the child.’ ‘No, such a mixed child would be a monster.
“Choose, Alanna.”
“I want the gathering! Of course I want it. It’s my right. And I want more. Need more.” She looked into my face. “I would rather have you send me away than give me only your grudging acceptance. ‘Oh, well, she’s not entirely stupid. Maybe there’s a chance that she’s right.’ Diut, let me be alone until you can be sure.”
I lay on my back and looked up at her. There was a strange beauty to her when one did not try to fit her into the Kohn image—when one did not see her as a twisted Kohn. The day I realized that I was finding beauty in her was the day I knew it was time to be rid of her. People unable to produce children quickly learn the danger of becoming too attached to any mate.
“I have had other mates who thought they carried my child, Alanna.”
“So you have said.”
“One was Kehyo during our second liaison.”
“Yes.”
“Five others come to my mind quickly.”
She winced as though from a blow, and looked away from me.
“Through them all, I have not permitted the gathering. I have never before permitted the gathering.”
Now her eyes came back to me, filled with surprise. “Why not?”
“The first time, Kehyo’s mother came to me and said, ‘Wait. Be certain before you let her announce. With another, the people would laugh if there was a mistake. Then they would forget. With you, they might not laugh, but also, they might not forget. You are Hao, but very young. Let them have as little reason as possible to doubt you.’ Kehyo’s mother. My own mother was long dead. For that one piece of advice, I kept friendship with Kehyo’s mother until she died. She was a wise woman. And, of course, Kehyo had no child until long after she had gone to Kahlahtkai.”
“You kept her with you after her mother talked to you?”
“For two more seasons. I wanted a child by her very badly. And when she left me, she stayed alone for a time to be certain.”
“And now… if I prove to be wrong, you will be shamed before the people.”
I said nothing.
“We will wait until you are as certain as I am. Then we will have the gathering.”
“I said I would be guided by you.”
“So.” I could feel her dissatisfaction.
“And instead, I have guided you.” I pulled her down beside me and felt her move close. “I will go on guiding you then. Choose the friends you want to gather with you and tell them to come tomorrow. Tell them why if you like, or wait and I’ll tell them myself when they are together.”
She lifted herself on one elbow to look down at me. “Be careful what you say, Diut.”
“So?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll even leave you to say the words.”
“Well.” I felt white come into my coloring. “At least you have learned to obey.”
Natahk was gone. He had made a great show of gathering his fighters—all of them—and leaving the settlement. He had also made a show of shouting his anger at the Missionaries, blaming them for his weapons party’s demise. He had promised ominously that he would deal with them as soon as he had dealt with the invading Tehkohn. Alanna had watched him carefully and decided that he was lying.
He would not be foolish enough to go running around the valley in search of enemies who might or might not still be there, and who might or might not find him first. No. Instead, he would wait, with his camouflaged army, for the Tehkohn to come to him—at the one place where both he and Alanna knew they would come sooner or later. The settlement. The Missionaries had suddenly become bait in a huge trap.
Natahk was probably ready for an army of Tehkohn—enough fighters either to herd the Missionaries away to the mountains, or to exterminate them. As it happened though, after three days and nights of waiting, his trap caught only one Tehkohn. Diut.
By then, the Missionaries had taken advantage of their privacy.
For the first time since the founding of the settlement, they held a general meeting in the church with no Garkohn in attendance. At the meeting, they learned how Jules had managed to use the rivalry between the Tehkohn and the Garkohn to Missionary advantage. The Tehkohn, he told them, had agreed to divert the Garkohn with a battle while the Missionaries escaped. He lied to them in spite of his principles—gave them assurances that he did not feel himself, convinced them that in this one matter, at least, the Tehkohn could be trusted. He had to lie since he still did not dare to tell them that it was not the Tehkohn who had been stealing away Missionary captives, or that those captives were still alive. The captives had to be sacrificed if the colony was to survive, and Jules knew it. He had sworn Nathan James and Jacob Lorenz to silence, and had suppressed his private distress, his doubts. Alanna watched him with grim approval. He was chameleon enough when he had to be.
He ordered the people to keep as many of their belongings as they could already packed, and especially, to keep as much meklah seed and flour as they could packed. He told them to wait, and to stay in their homes if they heard fighting inside the settlement—Alanna had warned him of her suspicions. And the people were eager to obey. Natahk had made them more than willing to give up their homes and move to another valley. They were escaping to freedom again to fulfill their Mission without Garkohn interference. By the time Diut arrived, they were ready.
The Verricks were about to have dinner when he came. Jules had been helping to build extra handcarts for the journey since these and the Missionaries’ own backs were the only means they would have of carrying their
