And before any could object, he sprang up and walked away, to t’Nethim’s lonely station at the bow.
Lhe regarded him curiously, then even with pity, which from the enemy was like salt in the wound.
Soon, as Kurt had known, there came someone sent from Kta to try to persuade him back, to persuade him to bow his head and swallow his humanity and his pride and submit in silence.
He heard the footsteps coming behind him, pointedly ignored the approach until he heard the man call his name.
Then he turned and saw that it was t’Ranek himself.
“Kta t’Elas has threatened bloodfeud,” said t’Ranek. “Please accept my apologies, t’Morgan. I am no friend of Elas, but I do not want a fight, and I acknowledge that it was not a worthy thing to say.”
“Kta would fight over that?”
“It is his honor,” said t’Ranek. “He says that you are of Elas. He also,” t’Ranek added, with an uneasy glance at Lhe t’Nethim, “has asked t’Nethim to return. He has explained somewhat of the lady Mim h’Elas. Please accept my apology, Kurt t’Morgan.”
It was not easy for the man. Kurt gave a stiff bow in acknowledgment, then looked at Lhe t’Nethim. The three of them returned to their places in the circle in utter silence. Kurt took his place beside Kta, t’Ranek with his brother, and Lhe t’Nethim stood nervously in the center until Kta abruptly gestured to him and bade him sit. T’Nethim settled at Kta’s feet, thin-lipped and with eyes downcast.
“You have among you,” said Kta in that hush, “my brother Kurt, and Lhe t’Nethim, who is under the protection of Elas.”
Like the effect of wind over grass, the men in the circle made slight bows.
“I was speaking,” Kurt said then, evenly and softly in that stillness. “And I will say one other thing, and then I will not trouble you further. There are weapons in the Afen. If Djan-methi has not used them, it is because Djan-methi has chosen not to use them. Once you have threatened her, you will have to reckon with the possibility that she will use them. You are wrong in some of your suppositions. She could destroy not only Nephane but Indresul also if she chose. You are hazarding your lives on her forbearance.”
The silence persisted. It was not longer one of hate, but of fear. Even Kta looked at him as a stranger.
“I am telling the truth,” he said, for Kta.
“T’Morgan,” said Ian t’Ilev. “Do you have a suggestion what to do?”
It was quietly, even humbly posed, and to his shame he was helpless to answer it. “I will tell you this,” he said, “that if Djan-methi still controls the Afen when Ylith-methi sails into that harbor, you are much more likely to see those weapons used-worse, if Shan t’Tefur should gain possession of them. She does not want to arm him, or she would have, but she might lose her power to prevent him, or abdicate it. I would suggest, gentlemen, that you make any peace you must with the Sufaki who will have peace. Give them reasonable alternatives, and do all you can to get the Afen out of Djan-methi’s hands and out of t’Tefur’s.”
“The Afen,” protested t’Ranek, “has only fallen to treachery, never to attack by nemet. Haichema-tleke is too high, our streets too steep, and the human weapons would make it impossible.”
“Our other alternative,” said Kta, “would seem to be to take the whole fleet and run for the north sea, saving ourselves. And I do not think we are of a mind to do that.”
“No,” said t’Nechis. “We are not.”
“Then we attack the Afen.”
XXII
The smoke over Nephane was visible even from a distance. It rolled up until the west wind caught it and spread it over the city like one of its frequent sea fogs, but blacker and thicker, darkening the morning light and overshadowing the harbor.
The men who stood on Sidek’s bow as the Ilev longship put into harbor at the head of the fleet watched the shore in silence. The smoke appeared to come from high up the hill, but no one ventured to surmise what was burning.