Kurt shrugged. “Garet hit him. I guess he was in a hurry.”
Renols’ scowl deepened. “That isn’t like Garet.”
“How should I know? Maybe Garet thought he might fail tonight and didn’t want a dead nemet for proof of his visit.”
Renols thought that over. “So. How did he know you wouldn’t raise an alarm?”
“He didn’t. But it makes sense I’d keep quiet. How am I to know whose story to believe?”
Renols snorted. “Put him inside. We’ll catch one of the Carets alive and then we’ll see about it.”
The human left. Kurt tested the strength of the new cords, which were unnecessarily tight and rapidly numbed his hands -a petty measure of their irritation with him. He sighed and leaned his head back against the post, ignoring Kta’s staring at him.
There was no chance to discuss matters. Kta seemed to sense it, for he said nothing. Someone stood not far from the hut, visible through the matting.
Quite probably, Kurt thought, the nemet had added things up for himself. Whether he had then reached the right conclusion was another matter.
Eventually first light began to bring a little detail to the hut. Kta finally slept. Kurt did not.
Then a stir was made in the camp, men running in the direction of Renols’ hut. Distant voices were discussing something urgently. The commotion spread, until people were stirring about in some alarm.
And Renols’ lieutenants came to fetch them both, handling them both harshly as they hurried them toward Renols’ shelter.
“We found Caret’s brothers,” Renols said, confronting Kurt.
Kurt stared at him, neither comforted nor alarmed by that news. “Caret’s brothers are nothing to me.”
“We found them dead. All of them. Throats cut. There were tracks of nemet-sandal-wearing.”
Kurt glanced at Kta, not needing to feign shock.
“Two of our searchers haven’t come back,” said Renols. “You say this one is a chief among the nemet. A lord. Probably they’re his. Ask him.”
“You understood,” Kurt said in Nechai. “Say something.”
Kta set his jaw. “If you think to buy time by giving them anything from me, you are mistaken.”
“He has nothing to say,” said Kurt to Renols.
Renols did not look surprised. “He will find something to say,” he promised. “Astin, get a guard doubled out there. No women to go out of camp today. Raf, bring the nemet to the main circle.”
It would be possible, Kurt realized with a cold sickness at the heart, it would be possible to play out the game to the end. Kta would not betray him any more than he would betray the men of Tavi. To let Kta die might buy him the hour or so needed to hope for rescue. Possibly Kta would not even blame him. It was always hard to know what Kta would consider a reasonable action.
He followed along after those who took Kta-Kta with his spine stiff and every line of him braced to resist, but making not a sound. Kurt himself went docilely, his eyes scanning the hostile crowd that gathered in ominous silence. •
He let it continue to the very circle, where the sand was still dark-spotted with the blood of the night before. He feared he would not have the courage to commit so senseless an act, giving up both their lives. But when they tried to put Kta to the ground, he scarcely thought. He tore loose, hit one man, stooped, jerked the ax from his startled hand and swung it toward those who held Kta.
The nemet reacted with amazing agility, swung one man into the path of the ax, kneed another, snatched a dagger and applied it with the blinding speed he could use with the ypan. The men clutched spurting wounds and went down howling and writhing.
“Archers!” Renols bellowed. There was a great clear space about the area. Kurt and Kta stood back to back, men crowding each other to get out of the way. Renols was closest.
Kurt charged him, ax swinging. Renols went down with his side open, rolling in the dust. Other men scrambled out of the way as he kept swinging. Kta stayed with him. Their area changed. People fled from them screaming.