“I do not think Djan will take this city to war. She knows too well where it leads.”
“Neither side wants it,” said Kta, “and the Indras-descended of Nephane want it least of all. Our quarrel with…” –
Kta fell silent as they came to the place where the street narrowed to pass the gate in the lower defense wall. A man reaching the gate from the opposite direction was staring at them: tall, powerful, wearing the braid and striped robe that- was not uncommon in the lower town and among the Methi’s guard.
All at once Kurt knew him. Shan t’Tefur. Hate seemed in permanent residence in t’Tefur’s narrow eyes. For a moment Kurt’s heart pounded and his muscles tensed, for t’Tefur had stopped in the gate and seemed about to bar their way.
Kta jostled against Kurt, purposefully, clamped his arm in a hard grip unseen beneath the fold of the ctan and edged him through the gate, making it clear he should not stop.
“That man,” said Kurt, resisting the urge to look back, for Kta’s grip remained hard, warning him. “That man is from the Afen.”
“Keep moving,” Kta said.
They did not stop until they reached the high street, that area near the Afen which belonged to the mansions of the Families, great, rambling things, among which Elas was one of the most prominent. Here Kta seemed easier, and slowed his pace as they headed toward the door of Elas.
“That man,” Kurt said then, “came where I was being held in the Afen. He brought me into the Methi’s rooms. His name is t’Tefur,”
“I know his name.”
“He seems to have a dislike for humans.”
“Hardly,” said Kta. “It is a personal dislike. He has no fondness for either of us. He is Sufaki.”
“I noticed the braid, the robes-that is not the dress of the Methi’s guard, then?”
“No. It is Sufak.”
“Osanef… Osanef is Sufaki. Han t’Osanef and Bel do not wear-”
“No. Osanef is Sufaki, but the jafikn, the long hair braided in the back, that is an ancient custom, the warrior’s braid No one has done it since the Conquest. It was forbidden the Sufaki then. But in recent years the rebel spirits have revived the custom, and the Robes of Color, which distinguish their houses. There are three Sufak houses of the ancient aristocracy surviving, and ‘Tefur is of one. He is a dangerous man. His name is Shan t’Tefur u Tlekef, or as he prefers to be known, Tlekefu Shan Tefur. He is Bias’ bitter enemy, and fie is yours not alone for the sake of Elas.”
“Because I’m human? But I understood Sufaki had no
particular hate for-” And it dawned on him, with a
sudden heat at the face.
“Yes,” said Kta, “he has been the Methi’s lover for many months.”
“What does your custom say he and I should do about-
“Sufak custom says he may try to make you fight him. And you must not. Absolutely you must not.”
“Kta, I may be helpless in most things nemet, but if he wants to press a fight, that is something I can under- stand. Do you mean a fight, or do you mean a fight to the death? I am not that anxious to kill him over her, but neither am I going to be-”
“Listen. Hear what I am saying to you. You must avoid a fight with him. I do not question your courage or your ability. I am asking this for the sake of Elas. Shan t’Tefur is dangerous.” “Do you expect me to allow myself to be killed? Is he dangerous in that sense, or how?”
“He is a power among the Sufaki. He sought more power, which the Methi could give him. You have made him lose honor and you have threatened his position of leadership. You are resident with Elas, and we are of the Indras-descended. Until now, the Methi has inclined toward the Sufaki, ever since she dispensed with me as an interpreter. She has been surrounded by Sufaki, chosen friends of Shan t’Tefur, and has drawn much of her power from them, so much so that the Great Families are uneasy. But of a sudden Shan t’Tefur finds his footing unsteady.”