By twilight he was feeling faint with hunger, for he had not eaten-he reckoned back to breakfast a day ago. He did not know the land, dared not try the wild plants. He knew then that he must think of stealing or starve to death, and he was sorry for that, because the country folk were generally both decent and poor.
The bitter thought occurred to him that among the innocent, of this world his presence had brought nothing but grief. It was only his enemies that he could never harm.
Mim stayed with him. He could not so much as look at the stars overhead without hearing the names she gave them: Ysime the pole star, mother of the north wind; blue Lineth, he star that heralded the spring, sister of Phan. His grief had settled into a quieter misery, one with everything.
In the dark, there came to his nostrils the scent of wood-smoke, borne on the northwest wind.
He turned toward it, smelled other things as he drew nearer, animal scents and the delicious aroma of cooking. He crept silently, carefully toward the fold of hills that concealed the place.
There was no house, but a campfire tended by two men and a youth, country folk, keepers of flocks, cachiren. He heard the soft calling of their wool-bearing animals from somewhere beyond a brush barricade on the other side of the fire.
A snarled warning cut the night. The shaggy tilof that guarded the cochin lifted its head, its hackles rising, alerting the cachiren. They scrambled up, weapons in hand, and the beast raced for the intruder.
Kurt fled, seeking a pile of rock that had tumbled from the hillside, and tried to find a place of refuge. The beast’s teeth seized his ankle, tore as he jerked free and scrambled higher.
“Come down!” shouted the youth, spear poised for the throwing. “Come down from there.”
“Hold the creature off,” Kurt shouted back. “I will gladly come down if you will only call him off.”
Two of them kept spears aimed at him, while the youth went higher and dragged the snarling and spitting guard-beast down again by his shaggy ruff.
Kurt clambered down gingerly and spoke to them gently and courteously, for they prodded him with then- spears, forcing him in the direction of the firelight, and he feared what they would do when they saw his human face.
When he reached the light he kept his head down and knelt by the fireside and sat back on his heels in an at-home posture. The keen point of a spear touched beneath his shoulder. The other two men circled to the front to look him over.
“Human,” one exclaimed, and the point pressed deeper and made him wince.
“Where are the rest of you?” the white-haired elder asked.
“I am not Tamurlin,” said Kurt, “and I am alone. I beg you, I need food. I am of the Methi’s people.”
“He is lying,” said the boy behind him.
“He might be,” said the elder, “but he talks manlike.”
“You do not need to give me hospitality,” said Kurt, for the sharing of bread and fire created a religious bond forever unless otherwise agreed from the beginning. “But I do ask
you for food and drink. It is the second day since I have eaten.”
“Where did you come from?” asked the elder.
“From Nephane.”
“He is lying,” the boy insisted. “The Methi killed the others.”
“Unless one escaped.”
“Or more than one,” said the elder.
“May the light of Phan fall gently on thee,” Kurt said, the common blessing. “I swear I have not lied to you, and I am no enemy.”
“It is, at least, no Tamurlin,” said the second man. “Are you house-friend to the Methi, stranger?”
“To Bias,” said Kurt.
“To Bias,” echoed the elder in amazement. “To the sons of storm, a human for a house-friend? This is hard to believe. The Indras-descended are too proud for that.”
“If you honor the name of Bias,” said Kurt, “or of Osanef, which is our friend, give me something to eat. I am about to faint from hunger.”
The elder considered again and finally extended an arm in invitation to the meal they had left cooking beside their fire. “Not in hospitality, stranger, since we do not know you, but there is food and drink. We are poor men. Take sparingly, but be free of it, if you are as hungry as you say. May the light of Phan fall upon thee in blessing or in curse according to what you deserve.”