“You all here know me. You know I not speak without first thinking. Not easy, thinking at my age. But this significant what we talk here today. Very important not make wrong decision. I think hard and harder about what to do about loutish, tawdry, thieving Deyzara. Must for sure do something.” A chorus of supportive murmurs arose from many of the assembled. “So believe when I say I think hardest that this talk of trying drive all Deyzara off Fluva is talk-making of idiot people.”
More supportive muttering echoed her statement as she slowly resumed her seat, but Naneci-tok noted an equal number of confused mumblings as well as unmistakable indications of outright dissent. As both began to quiet down, a singular presence slipped forward out of his chair. Unusually tall even for one of his kind, Aniolo-jat was a Yuiqueru with a growing reputation among the more radical elements of the Sakuntala. He had drawn considerable attention not only for his military prowess, demonstrated in the usual interclan battles, but also for a wiliness not usually attributed to mid-status chiefs who specialized in combat.
Ears and eyes alert, he gazed silently around the assembly until he was satisfied that he had everyone’s attention—or at least that of the nonsenile. He spoke softly and carefully, without any of the ground-scraping gestures or traditional howls that usually accompanied the assertions of a war chief. Naneci-tok was as intent on his words as any of her colleagues. Here was a kin brave and thoughtful. One any female would be glad to mate with and any warrior proud to follow.