T'Nethim, his peculiar shadow, hovered uncertainly out on the landing. Kurt heard him, looked and bade him come in. The Indras uncertainly trod the fine carpeting, bowed in reverence before the dead phusa.
"There are clean clothes," Kurt said to him, flinging wide the closet which held all that had been his. "Take what you need."
He put off his own filthy garments and went into the bath, washed and shaved with cold water and dressed again in a change of clothing while Lhe t'Nethim did the same for himself. Kurt found himself changed, browner, leaner, ribs crossed by several ridged scars that were still sensitive. Those misfortunes were far away, shut out by the friendly wall of this house.
There was only t'Nethim, who followed, silent, to remind him that war hovered about them.
When they had both finished, they went downstairs to the rhmei to find Kta.
Kta had relit the holy fire, and the warm light of it leaped up and touched their faces and chased the shadows into the deeper recesses of the high ceiling and the spaces behind the pillars of the hall. Elas was alive again in Nephane.
T'Nethim would not enter here now, but returned to the threshold of Elas, to take his place in the shadows, sword detached and laid before him like a self-appointed sentinel, as in ancient times the chan was stationed.
But Kurt went to join Kta in the rhmei and listened while Kta lifted hands to the fire and spoke a prayer to the Guardians for their blessing.
"Spirits of my Ancestors," he ended, "of Elas, my fathers, my father, fate has led me here and led me home again. My father, my mother, my friends who wait below, there is no peace yet in Elas. Aid me now to find it. Receive us home again and give us welcome, and also bear the presence of Lhe t'Nethim u Kma, who sits at our gate, a suppliant Shadow of Mim, one of your own has come. Be at peace."
For a moment he remained still, then let fall his hands and looked back at Kurt. "It is a better feeling," he said quietly. "But still there is a heaviness. I am stifling, Kurt. Do you feel it?"
Kurt shivered involuntarily, and the human part of him insisted it was a cold draft through the halls, blowing the fire's warmth in the other direction.
But all of a sudden he knew what Kta meant of ill feelings. An ancestral enemy sat at their threshold. Unease
rippled through the air, disquiet hovered thickly there. T'Nethim existed, t'Nethim waited, in a city where he ought not to have come, in a house that was his enemy.
A piece of the yhia out of place, waiting.
Let us bid him go wait in some other house, Kurt almost suggested, but he was embarrassed to do it. Besides, it was to himself that t'Nethim was attached, his own heels the man of Indras dogged.
' A pounding came at the front door of Elas. They hurried out, taking weapons left by the doorway of the rhmei, and gave a nod of assent to t'Nethim's questioning look. T'Nethim slipped the bar and opened the door.
A man and a woman were there in the light: Aimu, with Bel t'Osanef.
She folded her hands on her breast and bowed, and Kta bowed deeply to her. When she lifted her face she was crying, tears flooding over her face.
"Aimu," said Kta. "Bel, welcome."
"Am I truly?" Aimu asked. "My brother, I have waited so long this afternoon, so patiently, and you would not come to Irain."
"Ei, Aimu, Aimu, you were my first thought in coming home-how not, my sister? You are all Kurt and I have left. How can you think I do not care?"
Aimu looked into his face and her hurt became a troubled expression, as if suddenly she read something in Kta that she feared, knowing him. "Dear my brother," she said, "there is no woman in the house. Receive us as your guests and let me make this house home for you again."
"It would be welcome," he said. "It would be very welcome, my sister."
She bowed a little and went her way into the women's part of the house. Kta looked back to Bel, hardly able to do otherwise, and the Sufaki's eyes were full sober. They demanded an answer.
"Bel," said Kta, "this house bids you welcome. Whether it is still a welcome you want to accept..."
"You can tell me that, Kta."
"I am going to finish the quarrel between us and Tefur, Bel." Kta then gave Lhe t'Nethim a direct look, so the Indras knew he was earnestly not wanted. Lhe retreated down the hall toward the darkness, still not daring the rhmei.
"He is a stranger," said Bel. "Is he of the Isles?"
"He is Indras," Kta admitted. "Forget him, Bel. Come into the rhmei. We will talk."
"I will talk here," said Bel. "I want to know what you are planning. Revenge on t'Tefur-in that I will gladly join you. I have a debt of blood there too. But why is the street still sealed? What is this silence in Irain? And why have you not come there?"
"Bel, do not press me like this. I will explain."
"You have made some private agreement with the Indras forces. That is the only conclusion that makes sense. I want you to tell me that I am wrong. I want you to account for how you return with the fleet, for who this stranger is in Bias, for a great many things, Kta."
"Bel, we were defeated. We have bought time."
"How?"
"Bel, if you walk out of here now and rouse your people against us, you will be bloody-guilty. We lost the battle. The Methi Ylith will not destroy the city if we fulfill her conditions. Walk out of here if you choose, betray that confidence, and you will have lives of your people on your conscience."
Bel paused with his hand on the door.
"What would you do to stop me?"
"I would let you go," said Kta. "I would not stop you. But your people will die if they fight, and they will throw away everything we have tried to win for them. Ylith-methi will not destroy the Sufaki, Bel. We would never have agreed to that. I am struggling with her to win your freedom. I think I can, if the Sufaki themselves do not undo it all."
Bel's eyes were cold, a muscle slowly knotting in his jaw.
"You are surrendering," he said at last. "Did you not tell me once how the Indras-descended would fight to the death before they would let Nephane fall? Are these your promises? Is this the value of your honor?"
"I want this city to live, Bel."
"I know you, my friend. Kta t'Elas took good thought that it was honorable. And when Indras talk of honor, we always lose."
"I understand your bitterness; I do not blame you. But I won you as much as I could win."
"I know," said Bel. "I know it for the truth. If I did not believe it, I would help them collect your head. Gods, my friend, my kinsman-by-marriage, of all our enemies, it has to
"be you to come tell me you have sold us out, and for friendship's sake. Honorably. Because it was fated. Ai, Kta-"
"I am sorry, Bel."
Bel laughed shortly, a sound of weeping. "Gods, they killed my house for staying by Elas. My people... I tried to persuade to reason, to the middle course. I argued with great eloquence, ai, yes, and most bitter of all, I knew-I knew when I heard the fleet had returned-I knew as sure as instinct what the Indras must have done to come back so soon. It was the reasonable course, was it not, the logical, the expedient, the conservative thing to do? But I did not know until you failed to come to Irain that you had been the one to do it to us."
"T'Osanef," said Kurt, "times change things, even in Indresul. No human would have left Tehal-methi's hands alive. I was freed."
"Have you met with Ylith-methi face to face?"
"Yes," said Kta.
Bel shot him a yet more uneasy look. "Gods, I could almost believe... Did you run straight from here to Indresul? Was t'Tefur right about you?"
"Is that the rumor in the city?"
"A rumor I have denied until now."
"Shan t'Tefur knows where we were," said Kurt. "He tried to sink us in the vicinity of the Isles, but we were captured after that by the Indras, and that is the truth. Kta risked his life for your sake, t'Osanef. You could at least afford him the time to hear all the truth."
Bel considered a moment. "I suppose I can do that," he sa
id. "There is little else I can do, is there?"
"Will you have more tea, gentlemen?" Aimu asked, when the silence lasted overlong among them.
"No," said Bel at last, and gave his cup to her. He looked once more at Kta and Kurt. "Kta, I am at least able to understand. I am sorry... for the suffering you had." '
"You are saying what is in your mind," said Kta, "not what is in your heart."
"I have listened to what you had to say. I do not blame you. What could you do? You are Indras. You chose the survival of your people and the destruction of mine. Is that so unnatural?"
"I will not let them harm the Sufaki," Kta insisted, while Bel stared at him with that hard-eyed pain which would not admit of tears.
"Would you defy Ylith-methi for us," asked Bel, "as you defied Djan?"
"Yes. You know I would."
"Yes," said Bel, "because Indras are madly honorable. You would die for me. That would satisfy your conscience. But you have already made the choice that matters. Gods, Kta, Kta, I love you as a brother; I understand you, and it hurts, Kta."
"It grieves me too," said Kta, "because I knew that it would hurt you personally. But I am doing what I can to prevent bloodshed among your people. I do not ask your help, only your silence."
"I cannot promise that."
"Bel," Kurt said sharply when t'Osanef made to rise. "Listen to me. A people can still hope, so long as they live; even mine, low as they have fallen on this world. You can survive this."
"As slaves again.''
"Even so, Sufaki ways would survive. If they survive, little by little, you gain. Fight them, spend lives, fall-in the end, the same result: Sufaki ways seep in among the Indras and theirs among you. Bow to good sense. Be patient."
"My people would curse me for a traitor."
"It is too late to do otherwise," said Kurt.
"Are the Families agreed?" Bel asked Kta.
"A vote was taken in the fleet. Enough houses were present to bind the Families to the decision; the Upei's vote would be a formality."
"That is not unusual," said Bel, and suddenly looked at Aimu, who sat listening to everything, pained and silent. "Aimu, do you have counsel for me?"
"No," she said. "No counsel. Only that you do what you think best. If your honored father were here, my lord, he surely would have advice for you, being Sufaki, being elder. What could I tell you?"
Bel bowed his head and thought a time, and made a gesture of deep distress. "It is a fair answer, Aimu," he said at last. "I only hate the choice. Tonight-tonight, when it is possible to move without having my throat cut by one of your men, my brother Kta-I will go to what men of my father's persuasion I can reach. I leave t'Tefur to you.
I will not kill Sufaki. I assume you are going to try to take the Afen?"
Kta was slow to answer, and Bel's look was one of bitter humor, as if challenging his trust. "Yes," said Kta.
"Then we go our separate ways this evening. I hope your men will exercise the. sense to stay off the harbor-front. Or is it a night attack Indresul plans?"
"If that should happen," said Kta, "you will know that we of the Families have been deceived. I tell you the truth, Bel, I do not anticipate that."
Men came to the door of Elas from time to time as the day sank toward evening, representatives of the houses, reporting decisions, urging actions. Ian t'Ilev came to report the street at last under firm control all along the wall of the Afen gate. He brought too the unwelcome news that Res t'Benit had been wounded from ambush at the lower end of the street, grim forecast of trouble to come, when night made the Families' position vulnerable. "Where did it happen?" asked Kta. "At Imas," said Ian. It was the house that faced the Sufaki district. "But the assassin ran and we could not follow him into the-"
He stopped cold as he saw Bel standing in the triangular arch of the rhmei.
Bel walked forward. "Do you think me the enemy, Ian t'Ilev?"
"T'Osanef." Ian covered his confusion with a courteous bow. "No, I was only surprised to find you here." "That is strange. Most of my people would not be." "Bel," Kta reproved him.
"You and I know how things stand," said Bel. "If you will pardon me, I see things are getting down to business and the sun is sinking. I think it is time for me to leave." "Bel, be careful. Wait until it is securely dark." "I will be careful," he said, a little warmth returning to his voice. "Kta, take care for Aimu."
"Gods, are you leaving this moment? What am I to tell her?"
"I have said to her what I need to say." Bel delayed a moment more, his hand on the door, and looked back. "She was your best argument; I remain grateful you did not stoop to that. I will omit to wish you success, Kta. Do not be surprised if some of my people choose to die rather than agree with you. I will not even pray for t'Tefur's death, when it may be the last the world will see of the nation we were. The name, my Indras friends, was Chtelek, not Sufak. But that probably will not matter hereafter."
"Bel," said Kta, "at least arm yourself."
"Against whom? Yours-or mine? Thank you, no, Kta. I will see you at the harbor, or be in it tomorrow morning, whichever fortune brings me."
The heavy door closed behind him, echoing through the empty halls, and Kta looked at Ian with a troubled expression.
"Do you trust him that far?" Ian t'Ilev asked.
"Begin no action against the Sufaki beyond Imas. I insist on that, Ian."
"Is everything still according to original plan?"
"I will be there at nightfall. But one thing you can do: take Aimu with you and put her safely in a defended house. Elas will be no protection to her tonight."
"She will be safe in Ilev. There will be men left to guard it, as many as we can spare. Uset's women will be there too."
"That will ease my mind greatly," said Kta.
Aimu wept at the parting, as she had already been crying and trying not to. Before she did leave the house, she went to the phusmeha and cast into the holy fire her silken scarf. It exploded into brief flame, and she held out her hands in prayer. Then she came and put herself in the charge of Ian t'Ilev.
Kurt felt deeply sorry for her and found it hard to think Kta would not make some special farewell, but he bowed to her and she to him with the same formality that had always been between them.
"Heaven guard you, my brother," she said softly.
"The Guardians of Elas watch over thee, my little sister, once of this house."..
It was all. Ian opened the door for her and shepherded her out into the street, casting an anxious eye across and up where the guards still stood on the rooftops, a reassuring presence. Kta closed the door again.
"How much longer?" Kurt asked. "It's near dark. Shan t'Tefur undoubtedly has ideas of his own."
"We are about to leave." TNethim appeared silently among the shadows of the further hall. Kta gave a jerk of his head and t'Nethim came forward to join them. "Stay by the threshold," he ordered t'Nethim. "And be still. What I have yet to do does not involve you. I forbid you to invoke your Guardians in this house."
T'Nethim looked uneasy, but bowed and assumed his accustomed place by the door, laying his sword on the floor before him.
Kta walked with Kurt into the firelit rhmei, and Kurt realized then the nature of Kta's warning to t'Nethim, for he walked to the left wall of the rhmei, where hung the Sword of Elas, Isthain. The ypan-sul had hung undisturbed for nine generations, untouched since the expulsion of the humans from Nephane but for the sometime attention that kept its metal bright and its leather-wrapped hilt in good repair. The ypai-sulim, the Great Weapons, were unique to their houses and full of the history of them. Isthain, forged in Indresul when Nephane was still a colony, nearly a thousand years before, had been dedicated in the blood of a Sufaki captive in the barbaric past, carried into battle by eleven men before.
Kta's hand hesitated at taking the age-dark hilt of it, but then he lifted it down, sheath and all, and went to the hearthfire. There he knelt and laid the great Sword on the floor, hands outstretched ov
er it.
"Guardians of Elas," he said, "waken, waken and hear me, all ye spirits who have ever known me or wielded this blade. I, Kta t'Elas u Nym, last of this house, invoke ye; know my presence and that of Kurt Liam t'Morgan u Patrick Edward, friend to this house. Know that at our threshold sits Lhe t'Nethim u Kma. Let your powers shield my friend and myself, and do no harm to him at our door. We take Isthain against Shan t'Tefur u Tlekef, and the cause of it you well know. And you, Isthain, you shall have t'Tefur's blood or mine. Against t'Tefur direct your anger and against no others. Long have you slept undisturbed, my dread sister, and I know the tribute due you when you are wakened. It will be paid by morning's light, and after that time you will sleep again. Judge me, ye Guardians, and if my cause is just, give me strength. Bring peace again to Elas, by t'Tefur's death or mine."