The Blackgod

cares for you, the way she has never cared for anyone except me and Qey and Ghan. It scared me. And when I thought she might risk her life for you, that scared me more than anything.”

“Because you love her.”

“No, that's the worst thing—the very worst. Because I thought 'What will I do out here without herT Not 'What will she do without meT ”

Perkar regarded the Giant's agonized face for a long moment. “Does she know any of this?” he asked quietly.

“She knows I'm useless out here. She thinks I'm pathetic. She tries hard to talk her way around it, but she does. She looks to the rest of you for help and strength, but for me she only feels pity. And she's right. I am no use to any of you out here. Anywhere but in Nhol—in the palace. Such a little place; it was easy to be strong there, Perkar.”

Perkar honestly did not believe he had ever seen such a doleful expression. Like everything about him, the Giant's sorrow was huge.

“And so what can I do for you, my friend?” Perkar asked gently.

“Teach me to fight with something other than my fists. Teach me to be useful again. Teach me about this country.”

“What? I don't know this country. It isn't my home. And I'm no great warrior.”

“I've seen you fight,” Tsem said. “If you don't want to help…”

“Wait, wait, I just want you to understand. I fight well because I carry a godblade, not because of my own skill.”

“I don't understand. It's your hands that carry it.”

“True enough. But Harka cuts through ordinary steel, helps me know where to strike—and if I make a mistake and get stabbed, Harka heals me.”

“But you know how to use a sword, or none of that would do you much good.”

“True enough. I'm not a bad swordsman, Tsem, just not as good as you think. And as a teacher … well, I've never done that at all”

“But you could teach me,” Tsem persevered.

“Why me?” Perkar asked, suddenly suspicious. “Why me and not Ngangata, Yuu'han, or Raincaster? Because I'm the killer! Because Perkar is the one you just point toward the enemy and say 'kill that,' like some kind oihoundV He tried to keep his frustration in check, but it was spilling out. Tsem thought of himself as useless. Was that better than being thought of as having only one use? And what good to be a killer if one were suddenly afraid of even that?

Tsem didn't answer the outburst, but his brows rose high on his forehead.

“Answer me,” Perkar demanded again. “Why me?”

Tsem made a strange face—Perkar could not tell whether it was anger, frustration, or hopelessness—but then the wide lips parted from champed white teeth in what seemed a furious snarl. But it wasn't; Tsem was urgently suppressing a smile. A giggle! Perkar's anger evaporated as quickly as it had come.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

“I shouldn't laugh,” Tsem said, hand across his chest, trying to hold in a series of deep, growling snickers. “But you looked so serious …”

Perkar watched him in absolute befuddlement, but the Giant's laughter, however inexplicable, made him feel foolish, and more, he found himself smiling, as well. “What?” he demanded again.

“Well, it's only that I chose you because you speak Nholish, that's all.” And then he interrupted himself with a real guffaw. It sounded ridiculous coming from the man-mountain, and then Perkar could help himself no longer, joining Tsem in his laughter.

“WELL, a sword isn't for you,” Perkar said later, when they began discussing the matter again.

“No?”

“No. First of all, we don't have one to spare, certainly not one that would fit your grip. Second, with your strength, you would probably break any blade you used. No, you would be an axe-man.”

“My mother carried an axe.”

“Your mother was a warrior?”

“She was one of the emperor's guards. He usually has full-blooded Giants in his elite.”

“But you weren't trained to fight?”

“Just with my hands. Wrestling and boxing. I think they were afraid to teach me to use steel.”

“I can see why. I would hate to have a slave three times my size that was armed.”

“No, that wasn't it. My mother was larger than I, and the men of her people are larger still. But they aren't… they aren't very bright. It would never occur to them to try to fight or run away, as long as they are well fed and treated with some respect. But I was an experiment. The emperor ordered my mother to mate with a Human man. I'm told that it had been done fairly often, but that I was the first successful cross. The emperor thought I might be more intelligent than my mother's folk, and so he never had me trained in weapons. He kept me at court for many years, as a curiosity, but then I suppose he grew bored with me and sent me to guard his daughter.”

“They crossed your parents like cattle? That's disgusting.”

Tsem looked thoughtful. “It's no different from an arranged marriage, is it? Your folk do that, I'm told.”

“Well, occasionally, but that's different,” Perkar said, taken aback by the comparison.

“Why?”

“Well, because marriages are arranged for property, inheritance, or alliance. Not to create hybrid stock!”

Tsem grunted. “I am not as smart as a full-blooded Human, so you will pardon me if I don't see an enormous difference. Anyway, in Nhol, marriages are arranged to concentrate the Blood Royal.”

“I…” Perkar frowned, shook his head. “Anyway, to get back to our real problem: we don't have an axe, either. No, I think for someone with your size and strength, and given our situation, we shall have to find a club for you.”

“You mean a big stick?”

“I mean a wooden mace. A good, heavy branch or sapling with a solid, hard knot on one end. We can work it down with a knife until it's right.” He nodded thoughtfully. ”We could make a spear, too. And a shield!”

“Do I really need a shield?”

Perkar reached over and poked him in the ugly scar across his belly, where the assassin's sword had nearly gutted him. “Yes. You can hold the shield in front of you thus—” He hopped to his feet and turned so that only his left side faced Tsem, left arm crooked as if bearing a shield. “—and you strike over it, thus” And he cocked an imaginary club back to his shoulder, then swung it down past his ear and over the equally fictitious shield. “With your reach, no one could get close enough to you to fight around your shield or through it. With a shield and a club, you will be more than a match for most warriors, even without a lot of training.”

“But you will train me?”

Perkar nodded, oddly elated. “Yes.”

“Good. I will never counsel Hezhi to leave you for dead again. When do we make my club?”

“First we have to find one. I think I know what to look for.”

“Can we look now?”

Perkar shook his head. “Too late. We should either start a fire up here or go down. There are wolves in this country.”

“You can start a fire?”

“Sure. Go collect firewood for me. We'll keep watch together.”

He watched the Giant lumber off, happy to see him enthusiastic about something—he had never seen that in Tsem before. This development did nothing to solve his own problem, but neither did thinking about it. The distraction was welcome.

“WHO is that singing, Heen?“ Hezhi whispered, reaching to scratch the yellow-and-brown mutt where he lay near her feet, nestled against the sprawling cedar she rested upon. Above, a few stars glittered, jewels in a murky sea. Heen nuzzled her hand indifferently. Whatever the chanting was, it did not worry him. Curious, Hezhi smoothed