'There, there, Radisson," said El-Navar heartily. "No need to be so manly. She's not much more than a girl after all, not more than twelve I figure."
"Thirteen," said Kitiara sulkily. "Almost fourteen."
"A rather pretty thirteen at that, I'd say," added the Karnuthian. He grabbed Kit a little roughly by the chin and tilted her face upward. Ursa and Radisson were quiet, and there was a sudden air of tension among the group
"Let's have the truth, girl," El-Navar continued more sternly. "What is your name? Why were you following us?"
"Kitiara Uth Matar," said Kit stonily. "You could have asked him if you wanted to know," she added, indicating Ursa.
"You know her?" asked the Karnuthian, turning to Ursa, surprised.
"I met her once," said Ursa in pointedly neutral tones, "when she was just a child. . . ." Kitiara looked spitefully at him.
"She recognized me in Solace and came up to me. I gave her the brush off."
"She knows our faces, El-Navar," said Radisson weakly. "What else does she know?"
"She doesn't know anything," repeated Ursa harshly. "I say we let her go. What could she say against us?"
El-Navar said nothing. Whether he or Ursa was in charge, Kitiara couldn't tell. Radisson, however, was clearly waiting for one of the two to make up his mind. Alone among them, the tall, sad-faced one was paying little attention to the problem. Slouched on the ground, he had taken out a dog-eared book and seemed to be studying it intently by the firelight, his lips moving soundlessly. A trail of drool fell steadily from his mouth, wetting the pages. The others, no doubt used to his eccentricities, paid him no heed.
El-Navar bent down on his knees so that he was peering into Kit's eyes. "How about it, Kitiara?" he asked. "Why were you following us?"
His tone had softened, but his eyes glittered with a diamond-hard light. The gold hoop swayed as he leaned forward.
"I wanted to join up," she said vaguely.
"What?" asked Radisson brusquely. Ursa's face was impassive.
"Join up. I wanted to join up," Kit repeated, this time more strongly. El-Navar let go of her chin and stood up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. This seemed to break the tension, and, in spite of himself, Ursa managed a tentative smile. The sad-faced reader, slouched over his book, continued to ignore them. Only Radisson looked confused and irritated.
"What are we then, some kind of volunteer fire brigade?" asked El-Navar.
"No." Kitiara hesitated. "I wanted to help take care of Gwathmey's son," she ventured boldly.
The smiles vanished. Even the reader heard this and looked up anxiously. Ursa stood and drew El-Navar aside, speaking to him in a whisper. Radisson glared at Kit. El-Navar looked over his shoulder, then nodded in agreement to something that Ursa had said. He broke from Ursa, who sat back down.
"How much do you know?" asked El-Navar tersely.
"Too much! Now we've got to kill her!" exclaimed Radisson.
"Try it!" Kit dared. Again, with startling swiftness, Radisson lunged toward her, but ElNavar was quicker this time and blocked his movement, shoving the smaller man aside. Radisson looked daggers at him, but there was nothing he could do against the bigger man whose charismatic presence—if not his actual size—commanded respect.
"Don't be so hasty, Radisson," admonished El-Navar. 'Think with your head. This girl is no match for you, even though she is your equal in other respects. A ringer in size, for example, which might have its value."
Although Kit didn't understand why, something that El-Navar said, something about his tone of voice, sent a message to Radisson. Instead of getting angrier, the weaselly one paced over near where Kit sat. He gazed at her, his expression altered and thoughtful. El-Navar also circled Kit, studying her. "I say we take her along," he declared after long moments had passed. "Let her ... as she says, 'join up.' " Ursa looked at Kitiara and back at El-Navar. Although his face was a tightly controlled mask, he shrugged to indicate his indifference. Still unsmiling, he stared at Kit with his dark, mercurial eyes.
"Maybe," said Radisson stubbornly.
"Look at her," El-Navar said to Radisson. "She's just about your size, isn't she? And she has pluck. It would minimize the risk to us and put you where you're needed most." After a long hesitation, Radisson shrugged a reluctant agreement. Kit noticed that nobody bothered to consult the fourth member of the party—Droopface, as she had begun to think of him.
"Is that a good horse you're riding? Can you ride fast, Kitiara?" asked El-Navar.
"Fast enough!" she said excitedly.
He cut her bonds. "Then you're one of us," he declared, clapping her on her shoulder. Kitiara rubbed her wrists ruefully and looked at the four faces staring at her. Although she didn't feel entirely confident, she forced a smile.
"Well . . ." said the weaselly man.
"C'mon, Radisson!" boomed El-Navar. "Don't be a jackass. Shake hands with our new partner!"
* * * * *
They continued riding northeast all the next day and the day after that. Except for Radisson, who maintained his wary demeanor toward her, the others appeared to accept Kit. However, where they were going and exactly what they were going to do remained a mystery. At least Kit could extract no further details, no matter how hard she tried. "Be patient," said El-Navar whenever she brought up the subject. "All in good time."
El-Navar was most enigmatic. Like the people Gregor had once told Kit about, by day he seemed one person, by night another. When the sun was out, El-Navar disappeared into his cowl; indeed he seemed to disappear from the group. He became sleepy-eyed, almost somnambulant, with little of the extroverted personality that he displayed after dark. He kept up with the other
