But when Melein stepped forward, the sen’ein veiled, and turned aside. And through their midst came an old, white-robed woman.
Sochil, she’pan. Her robes were black-bordered, while Melein’s were entirely white. She bore no seta’al, though Melein did. She came forward and stopped, facing Melein.
“I am Sochil, she’pan of the ja’anom mri. You are out of your proper territory, she’pan.”
“This city,” said Melein, “is the city of my ancestors. It is mine.”
“Go away from my lands. Go unharmed. This is neutral ground. No one can claim An-ehon. There can be no challenge here.”
“I am Melein, she’pan of all the People; and I have come home, Sochil.”
Sochil’s lips trembled. Her face was seamed with the sun and the weather. Her eyes searched Melein, and the tremor persisted. “You are mad. She’pan of the People? You are more than mad. How many of us will you kill?”
“The People went out from the World; and I am she’pan of all that went out and all that have returned, and of all the cities that sent us. I challenge, Sochil.”
Sochil’s eyes flickered as the membrane went across them, and her hands went up in a warding gesture. “Cursed be you,” she cried, and veiled, and retreated among her Sen.
“You are challenged,” Melein said in a loud voice. “Either yield me your children, she’pan of the ja’anom mri, or I will take them.”
The she’pan withdrew without answering, and her Kel formed a wall protecting her. None moved. None spoke. A misery crept into taut muscles. The side of the body turned to the wind grew chill and then numb.
And came kel’anth Merai, and two kel’ein, one male, one female.
“She’pan,” said Merai, making a gesture of respect before Melein. “I am kel’anth Merai s’Elil Kov-Nelan. The she’pan offers you two kel’ein.”
Melein set her arms in an attitude of shock and scorn. “Will she bargain? Then let her give me half her people.”
The kel’anth’s face betrayed nothing; but the young kel’ein at his side looked dismayed. “I will tell her,” the kel’anth said, and tore himself away and retreated into the black ranks that protected Sochil.
“She will not accept,” Melein predicted, a whisper to Niun, almost lost in the wind.
It was a long wait. At last the kel’ein gave way, and Sochil herself returned. She was veiled, and she stood with her hands tucked into the wide sleeves of her robes.
“Go away,” Sochil said softly then. “I ask you go away and let my children be. What have you to do with them?” “I see them houseless, she’pan. I will give them a house.” There was a pause. At last Sochil swept her arm at the land. “I see you destitute, fine she’pan with your elegant robes. I see you with no land, no Kel, no Kath, no Sen. Two kel’ein, and nothing more. But you will take my children and give them a house.” “I shall.”
“This,” said Sochil, stabbing a gesture at Duncan, “is this called of the People where you have been? Is this the reward of my Kel when it defeats your kel’anth? What is this that you bring to us, dressed in a kel’en’s robes? Let us see its face.”
Niun’s hand went to his belt, warning. “You demean yourself,” Melein said. “And all this is without point, she’pan. I have told you what I want and what I will do. I will settle your people in a house, either half or all, as you will. And I will go and take clan after clan, until I have all. I am she’pan of the People, and I will have your children, half now, all later. But if you will give half, I will take them and withdraw challenge.”
“It cannot be done. The high plains cities have no water. Stranger-she’pan, you are mad. You do not understand. We cannot build; we cannot take the elee way. We are enough for the land, and it for us. You will kill us.”
“Ask An-ehon that was your teacher, Sochil, and learn that it is possible.”
“You dream. Daughter of my ancestors, you dream.” “No,” said Melein. “Mother of the ja’anom, you are a bad dream that the People have dreamed, and I will make a house for your children.”