BROTHERS OF EARTH. C. J. Cherryh

“You mean we are to conquer Nephane for you?” t’Ilev exclaimed. “Gods, no.”

“Peace, control of your own city, or war. If we enter, we will not be bound by these terms.”

“Give us a little time,” t’Ilev pleaded. “Let us bear these proposals to the rest of the fleet. We cannot agree alone.”

“Do that, t’Ilev. We shall give you a day’s start toward Nephane whatever you decide. If you use that day’s grace to prepare your city to resist us, we will not negotiate again until we meet in the ruins of your city. We are not twice generous, t’Ilev.”

T’Ilev bowed, gathered the three of the crew who had come

with him, and the gathered crew of the trireme parted widely to let them pass.

“Methi,” said Kta.

“Would you go with them?”

“By your leave, Methi.”

“It is permitted. Make them believe you, t’Elas. You have your chance, one day to make your city exist. I hope you succeed. I shall be sorry if I learn you have failed. Will you go with him, t’Morgan? I shall be sorry to part with you.”

“Yes,” Kurt said. “By your leave.”

“Look,” she said. “Look up at me.” And when he had done so, he had the feeling that she studied him as a curiosity she might not see again. Her dark eyes held a little of fascinated fear. “You are,” she said, “like Djan-methi.”

“We are of one kind.”

“Bring me Djan,” she said. “But not as Methi of Nephane.”

And her gesture had dismissed them. They gave back a pace. But then Lhe t’Nethim bowed at her feet, head to the deck, as one who asked a great favor.

“Methi,” he said when she acknowledged him, “let me go with this ship. I have business in Nephane, with t’Tefur.”-

“You are valuable to me, Lhe,” she said in great distress.

“Methi, it is hearth-business, and you must let me go.”

“Must? They will kill you before you reach Nephane, and where will your debt be honored then, t’Nethim, and how will I answer your father, that I let his son do this thing?”

“It is family,” he said.

The Methi pressed her lips together. “If they kill you,” she said, “then we will know how they will regard any pact with us. TElas, be witness. Treat him honorably, however you decide, for his life or for his death. You will answer to me for this.”

T’Nethim bowed a final, heartfelt thanks, and sprang up and hurried after them, among the men of Ilev’s party who had delayed also to hear what passed.

“Someone will cut his throat,” t’Ilev hissed at Kta, before they went over the rail. “What is he to you?”

“Mim’s cousin.”

“Gods! How long have you been of Indresul, Kta?”

“Trust me. If otherwise, let us at least clear this deck. I beg you, Ian.”

T’Ilev bit his lip, then made haste to seek the ladder. “Gods help us,” he murmured. “Gods help us, I will keep silent on it. Burden me with nothing else, Kta.”

And he disappeared over the side first and quickly descended to the longship, where his anxious crew waited.

The Ilev vessel glided in among the wrecked fleet with the white assembly streamer flying beside the red, and other captains gathered to her deck as quickly as possible: Eta t’Nechis, Pan t’Ranek, Camit t’Ilev, cousin of Ian; others, young men, whose captaincies now told of tragedies at sea or at home.

“Is that it?” shouted Eta t’Nechis when he had heard the terms, and looked at t’Ilev as if other words failed him. “Great gods, t’Ilev, did you decide for all of us? Or have you handed command over to Elas and its company, to Elas, who ruined us in the first place, with its human guest. And now they bring us an overseas house-friend!”

“Argue it later,” said Kta. “Whether you want to fight or negotiate at Nephane, put the fleet about for home now. Every moment we waste will be badly needed.1′

“We have men still adrift out there!” cried t’Ranek, “men the Indras will not let us reach.”

“They are being picked up,” said Ian. “That is better than we can do for them. Kta is right. Put about.”