“Methi,” said Kta, “I believe that you are the Chosen of Heaven, and I reverence you and the home of my Ancestors-in-Indresul. Perhaps you are appointed by heaven for the destruction of my people, but if heaven will destroy my soul for refusing to help you, then heaven’s decrees are unbelievably harsh. I honor you, Methi. I believe that you, like Fate itself, must somehow be just. So I will do as I think right, and I will not aid you.”
Ylith regarded him furiously, then with a snap of her fingers and a gesture brought the guards to take them.
“Unfortunate man,” she said. “Blind to necessity and gifted with the stubborn pride of Elas. I have been well served by that quality in Elas until now, and it goes hard to find fault with that which I have best loved in your house. I truly pity you, Kta t’Elas. Go and consider again whether you have chosen well. There is a moment the gods lend us, to yield before going under. I still offer you life. That is heaven’s justice. Tryn, secure them both belowdecks. The son of Elas and his human friend are sailing with us, against Nephane.”
The hatch banged open against the deck above and someone in silhouette came down the creaking steps into the hold.
“T’Elas. T’Morgan.” It was Lhe t’Nethim, and in a moment the Indras officer had come near enough to them that his features were faintly discernible. “Have you all that you need?” he asked, and sank down on his heels a little beyond the reach of their chains.
Kta turned his face aside. Kurt, feeling somewhat a debt to this man’s restraint, made a grudging bow of his head. “We are well enough,” Kurt said, which they were, considering.
Lhe pressed his lips together. “I did not come to enjoy this sight. For that both of you… have done kindness to my house, I would give you what I can.”
“You have generally done me kindness,” said Kurt, yet careful of Kta’s sensibilities. “That is enough.”
“Elas and Nethim are enemies; that does not change. But human though you are-if Mim could choose you, of.her own will-you are an exceptional human. And t’Elas,” he said in a hard voice, “because you sheltered her, I thank you. We know the tale of her slavery among Tamurlin, this through Elas-in-Indresul, through the Methin. It is a bitter tale.”
“She was dear to us,” said Kta, looking toward him.
Lhe’s face was grim. “Did you have her?”
“I did not,” said Kta. “She was adopted of the chart of Elas. No man of my people treated her as other than an honorable woman, and I gave her at her own will to my friend, who tried with all his heart to treat her well. For Mim’s sake, Elas is dead in Nephane. To this extent we defended her. We did not know that she was of Nethim. Because she was Mim, and of our hearth, Elas would have defended her even had she told us.”
“She was loved,” said Kurt, because he saw the pain in Lhe’s eyes, “and had no enemies in Nephane. It was mine who killed her.”
“Tell me the manner of it,” said Lhe.
Kurt glanced down, unwilling, but Lhe was nemet, some things would not make sense to him without all the truth. “Enemies of mine stole her,” he said, “and they took her; the Methi of Nephane humiliated her. She died at her own hand, Lhe t’Nethim. I blame myself also. If I had been nemet enough to know what she was likely to do, I would not have let her be alone then.”
Lhe’s face was like graven stone. “No,” he said. “Mim chose well. If you were nemet you would know it. You would have been wrong to stop her. Name the men who did this.”
“I cannot,” he said. “Mim did not know their names.”
“Were they Indras?”
“Sufaki,” Kurt admitted. “Men of Shan t’Tefur u Tlekef.”
“Then there is bloodfeud between that house and Nethim. May the Guardians of Nethim deal with them as I shall if I find them, and with Djan-methi of Nephane. What is the emblem of Tefur?”