“That is true.”
“Please tell him, then,” Vorgens said, “that the Star Watchman who engineered the escape of the two prisoners last night from under his nose has a message for him from the Commander-in-Chief of the Terran Imperial Star Watch.”
Sittas’ weathered old face slowly unfolded into a broad grin. “It might work.”
The priest left to try to reach Okatar and arrange a meeting. Vorgens sat alone at the tiny table and nibbled on some of me meat and fruit from the tray.
He smiled wryly at the irony of the situation: Brigadier Aikens tries to prevent me from negotiating with the Komani. and his very orders bring me almost face-to-face with the Komani chieftain.
After a few minutes the Watchman got up and returned to his cot. The ache in his head was nearly gone, and the food had refreshed him. He stretched out on the cot, not to rest, but to think.
Vorgens tried to push every unwanted thought out of his mind, to reach back to his classes at the Academy, to remember what he had been taught about the
Komani. He pictured in his mind the stereocast lecture he had sat through.
“A nation of warriors, consisting of nomadic clans that fight each other almost as often as they raid their neighbors. Their culture is feudal, their energies directed toward battle and loot. Komani warriors are disdainful of civilized values..,.”
Yet through it all Vorgens heard in the back of his mind the keening funeraT dirge of the women; the solemn, frightened-yet-brave face of the youth who had brought them food the night before; the calm, firm insistence of Sittas that despite politics and wars, the Komani had souls.