"Yes, I know Shan t'Tefur and his late father. Ai, you would not have heard. Tlekef t'Tefur is dead, killed in the violence."
"How?" asked Kta at once. "Who did so?"
"A certain t'Osanef."
"O gods," Kta breathed. The strength seemed to go out of him. His face went pale. "Which t'Osanef?"
"Han t'Osanef did the killing, but I have no further information. I do not blame you, t'Elas. If a sister of mine were involved, I would worry, I would indeed. Tell me this: why would Sufaki kill Sufaki? A contest for power? A personal feud?"
"A struggle," said Kta, "between those who love Nephane as Osanef does and those who want to bring her down, like t'Tefur. And you are doing excellently for t'Tefur's cause, "Methi. If there is no Nephane, which is the likely result of your war, there will be another Chteftikan, and that war you cannot see the end of. There are Sufaki who have learned not to hate Indras; but there will be none left if you pursue this attack."
Ylith joined her hands together and meditated on some thought, then looked up again. "Lhe t'Nethim will return you to the hold," she said. "I am done. I have spared all the time I can afford today, for a man out of touch with reality. You are a brave man, Kta t'Elas. And you, Kurt t'Morgan, you are commendable in your attachment to this gentle madman. Someone should stay by him. It does you credit that you do not leave him."
XXI
"Kurt."
Kurt came awake with Kta shaking him by the shoulder and with the thunder of running feet on the deck overhead. He blinked in confusion. Someone on deck was shouting orders, a battle-ready.
"There is sail in sight," said Kta. "Nephane's fleet."
Kurt rubbed his face, tried to hear any clear words from overhead. "How much chance is there that Nephane can stop this here?"
Kta gave a laugh like a sob. "Gods, if the Methi's report is true, none. If there is civil war in the city, it will have crippled the fleet. Without the Sufaki, the Families could not even get the greater ships out of the harbor. It will be a slaughter up there."
Oars rumbled overhead. In a moment more the shouted order rang out and the oars splashed down in unison. The ship began to gather speed.
"We are going in," Kurt murmured, fighting down panic, A host of images assailed his mind. They could do nothing but ride it out, chained to the ship of the Methi. In space or on Tavi's exposed deck, he had known fear in entering combat, but never such a feeling of helplessness.
"Edge back," Kta advised him, bracing his shoulder against the hull. He took his ankle chain in both hands. "If we ram, the shock could be considerable. Brace yourself and hold the chain. There is no advantage adding broken bones to our misery."
Kurt followed his example, casting a misgiving look at the mass of stored gear in the after part of the hold. If it was not well secured, impact would send tons of weight down on them, and there was no shielding themselves against that.
The grating thunder of three hundred oars increased in tempo and held at a pace that no man could sustain over a long drive. Now even in the dark hold there was an undeniable sense of speed, with the beat of the oars and the rush of water against the hull.
Kurt braced himself harder against the timbers. It needed no imagination to think what would happen if the trireme itself was rammed and a bronze Nephanite prow splintered in the midships area. He remembered Tavi's ruin and the men ground to death in the collision, and tried not to think how thin the hull at their shoulders was.
The beat stopped, a deafening hush, then the portside oars ran inboard. The ship glided under momentum for an instant.
Wood began to splinter and the ship shuddered and rolled, grating and cracking wood all along her course. Thrown sprawling, Kurt and Kta held as best they could as the repeated shocks vibrated through the ship. Shouting came overhead, over the more distant screaming of men in pain and terror, suddenly overwhelmed by the sound of the oars being run out again.
The relentless cadence recommenced, the trireme recovering her momentum. All-encompassing was the crash and boom of the oars, pierced by the thin shouts of officers. Then the oars lifted clear with a great sucking of water, and held. The silence was so deep that they could hear their own harsh breathing, the give of the oars in their locks, the creak of timbers and the groan of rigging, and the sounds of battle far distant.
"This is the Methi's ship," Kta answered his anxious look. "It has doubtless broken the line and now waits. They will not risk this ship needlessly."
And for a long time they crouched against the hull, staring into the dark, straining for each sound that might tell them what was happening above.
New orders were given, too faintly to be understood. Men ran across the deck in one direction and the other, and still the motion of the ship indicated they were scarcely moving.
Then the hatch crashed open and Lhe t'Nethim came down the steps into the hold, backed by three armed men.
"Do you suddenly need weapons?" asked Kta.
"T'Elas," said Lhe, "you are called to the deck."
Kta gathered himself to his feet, while one of the men bent and unlocked the chain that passed through the ring of the band at his ankle.
"Take me along with him," said Kurt, also on his feet.
"I have no orders about that," said Lhe.
"TNethim," Kurt pleaded, and Lhe considered an instant, gnawing his lip. Then he gestured to the man with the keys.
"Your word to do nothing violent," Lhe insisted.
"My word," said Kurt.
"Bring him too," said Lhe.
Kurt followed Kta up the steps into the light of day, so blinded by the unaccustomed glare that he nearly missed his footing on the final step. On the deck the hazy shapes of many men moved around them, and their guards guided them like blind men toward the stern of the ship.
Ylith sat beneath the blue canopy. There Kurt's sight began to clear. Kta went heavily to his knees, Kurt following his example, finding comfort in him. He began to understand Kta's offering of respect at such a moment: Kta did what he did with grace, paying honor like a gentleman, unmoved by threat or lack of it. His courage was contagious.
"You may sit," said Ylith softly. "T 'Elas, if you will look to the starboard side, I believe you may see the reason we have called you."
Kta turned on one knee, and Kurt looked also. A ship was bearing toward them, slowly, relying on only part of its oarage. The black sail bore the white bird of Ilev, and the red immunity streamer floated from its mast.
"As you see," said the Methi, "we have offered the Families of Nephane the chance to talk before being driven under. I have also ordered my fleet to gather up survivors, without regard to nation-even Sufaki, if there be any. Now if your eloquence can persuade them to surrender, you will have won their lives."
"I have agreed to no such thing," Kta protested angrily.
"This is your opportunity, t'Elas. Present them my conditions, make them believe you-or remain silent and watch these last ships try to stop us."
"What are your conditions?" Kta asked.
"Nephane will again become part of the empire or Nephane will burn. And if your Sufaki can accept being part of the empire... well, I will deal with that wonder when it presents itself. I have never met a Sufaki, I confess it, as I had never met a human. I should be interested to do so, on my terms. So persuade them for me, t'Elas, and save their lives."
"Give me your oath they will live," Kta said, and there was a stirring among the Methi's guards, hands laid on weapons.
But Kta remained as he was, humbly kneeling. "Give me your oath," he replied, "in plain words, life and freedom for the men of the fleet if they take terms. I know that with you, Ylith-methi, words are weapons, double-edged. But I would believe your given word."
A lifting of the Methi's fingers restrained her men from drawing, and she gazed at Kta with what seemed a curious, even loving, satisfaction.
"They have tried us in battle, t'Elas, and you have tried my patience. Look upon the pitiful wreckage floating out t
here, and the fact that you are still alive after disputing me with words, and decide for yourself upon which you had rather commit their lives."
"You are taking," said Kta, "what I swore I would not give."
Ylith lowered her eyes and lifted them again, which just failed of arrogance. "You are too reasonable," she said, "to destroy those men for your own pride's sake. You will try to save them."
"Then," said Kta in a still voice, "because the Methi is reasonable, she will allow me to go down to that ship. I can do more there than here, where they would be reluctant to speak with me in your presence."
She considered, nodded finally. "Strike the iron from him. From the human too. If they kill you, t'Elas, you will be avenged." And, softening that arrogant humor: "In truth, t'Elas, I am trying to avoid killing these men. Persuade them of that, or be guilty of the consequences."
The Ilev longship bore the scars of fire and battle to such an extent it was a wonder she could steer. Broken oars hung in their locks. Her rail was shattered. She looked sadly disreputable as she grappled onto the immaculate trireme of the Methi, small next to that towering ship.
Kta nodded to Kurt as soon as she was made fast, and the two of them descended on a ship's ladder thrown over the trireme's side.
They landed one after the other, barefoot on the planks like common seamen, filthy and unshaved, looking fit company for the men of the battered longship. Shock was on familiar faces all about them: Ian t'Ilev among the foremost, and men of Irain and Isulan.
Kta made a bow, which t'Ilev was slow to return.
"Gods," t'Ilev murmured then. "You keep strange company, Kta."
"Tavi went down off the Isles," said Kta. "Kurt and I were picked up, the only survivors that I know of. Since that time we have been detained by the Indras. Are you in command here, Ian?" ,
"My father is dead. Since that moment, yes."
"May your Guardians receive him kindly," Kta said.
"The Ancestors of many houses have increased considerably today." A muscle jerked slowly in t'Ilev's jaw. He gestured his comrades to clear back a space, for they crowded closely to hear. He set his face in a new hardness. "So do I understand correctly that the Methi of Indresul is anxious to clear us aside and proceed on her way, and that you are here to urge that on us?"
"I have been told," said Kta, "that Nephane is in civil war and that it cannot possibly resist. Is that true, Ian?"
There was a deathly silence.
"Let the Methi ask her own questions," t'lrain said harshly. "We would have come to her deck."
And there were uglier words from others. Kta looked at them, his face impassive. At that moment he looked much like his father Nym, though his clothing was filthy and his normally ordered hair blew in strings about his face. Tears glittered in his eyes.
"I did not surrender my ship," he said, "though gods know I would have been willing to; a dead crew is a bitter price for a house's pride, and one I would not have paid." His eyes swept the company. "I see no Sufaki among you."
The murmuring grew. "Quiet," said t'Ilev. "All of you. Will you let the men of Indresul see us quarrel? Kta, say what she has sent you to say. Then you and t'Morgan may leave, unless you keep asking after things we do not care to share with the Methi of Indresul."
"Ian," said Kta, "we have been friends since we were children. Do as seems right to you. But if I have heard the truth, if there is civil war in Nephane, if there is no hope but time in your coming here, then let us try for conditions. That is better than going to the bottom."
"Why is she permitting this? Love of us? Confidence in you? Why does she send you down here?"
"I think," said Kta faintly, "I think-and am not sure-that she may offer better conditions than we can obtain from Shan
t'Tefur. And I think she is permitting it because talk is cheaper than a fight, even for Indresul. It is worth trying, Ian, or I would not have agreed to come down here."
"We came to gain time. I think you know that. For us, crippled as we are, talk is much cheaper than a battle, but we are still prepared to fight too. Even taking the trouble to finish us can delay her. As for your question about Nephane's condition at the moment..." The others wished him silent. Ian gave them a hard look. 'TElas has eyes to see. The Sufaki are not here. They demanded command of the fleet. Some few-may their ancestors receive them kindly-tried to reason with Shan t'Tefur's men. Light of heaven, we had to steal the fleet by night, break out of harbor even to go out to defend the city. T'Tefur hopes for our defeat. What do you think the Methi's terms will be?"
There was quiet on the deck. For the moment the men were all listening, spirits and angers failing, all pretense laid aside. They only seemed afraid.
"Ian," said Kta, "I do not know. Tehal-methi was unyielding and bloody; Ylith is... I do not know. What she closes within her hand, I fear she will never release. But she is fair-minded, and she is Indras."
The silence persisted. For a moment there was only the creak of timbers and the grinding of the longship against the side of the trireme as the sea carried them too close. "He is right," said Lu t'Isulan.
"You are his house-friend," said a man of Nechis. "Kta sued for your cousin to marry."
"That would not blind me to the truth," said t'Isulan. "I agree with him. I am sick to death of t'Tefur and his threats and his ruffians."
"Aye," said his brother Toj. "Our houses had to be left almost defenseless to get enough men out here to man the fleet. And I am thinking they may be in greater danger at the moment from the Sufaki neighbors than from Indresul's fleet. El," he said angrily when others objected to that, "clear your eyes and see, my friends. Isulan sent five men of the main hearth here and fifty from the lesser, and a third are lost. Only the sons of the chan are left to hold the door of Isulan against t'Tefur's pirates. I am not anxious to lose the rest of my brothers and cousins in an empty gesture. We will not die of hearing the terms, and if they are honorable, I for one would take them."
Ylith leaned back in her chair and accepted the respects of the small group of defeated men kneeling on her deck. "You may all rise," she said, which was generous under the circumstances. "T'Elas, t'Morgan, I am glad you have returned safely. Who heads this delegation?"
T'Ilev bowed slightly. "Ian t'Ilev uv Ulmar," he identified himself. "Lord of Ilev." And there was sadness in that assumption of the title, raw and recent. "I am not eldest, but the fleet chose me for my father's sake."
"Do you ask conditions?" asked Ylith.
"We will hear conditions," said t'Ilev.
"I will be brief," said Ylith. "We intend to enter Nephane, with your consent or without it. I will not leave the woman Djan in authority; I will not deal with her or negotiate with those who represent her. I will have order restored in Nephane and a government installed in which I have confidence. The city will thereafter remain in full and constant communication with the mother of cities. I will, however, negotiate the extent of the bond between our cities. Have you any comment, t'Ilev?"
"We are the fleet, not the Upei, and we are not able to negotiate anything but our own actions. But I know the Families will not accept any solution which does not promise us our essential freedoms."
"And neither," Kta interjected unbidden, "will the Sufaki."
Ylith's eyes went to him. Behind her, Lhe t'Nethim laid hand uneasily on the hilt of his ypan. Ylith's wit and Ylith's power were sufficient to deliver Kta an answer, and Kurt clenched his hands, hoping Kta would not be humiliated before these men. Then of a sudden he saw what game Kta was playing with his life and went cold inside. The Methi too was before witnesses, whose offense now could mean a battle, one ugly and, for the Methi's forces, honorless.
Her lips smiled. She looked Kta slowly up and down, finally acknowledged him by looking at him directly. "I have studied your city, t'Elas. I have gathered information from most unlikely sources, even you and my human, t'Morgan."
"And what," Kta asked softly, "has the Methi concluded?"
"That a wise p
erson does not contest reality. Sufaki... are a reality. Annihilation of all Sufaki is hardly practical, since they are the population of the entire coast of Sufak. T'Morgan has told me a fable of human wars. I considered the prospect of dead villages, wasted fields. Somehow this
did not seem profitable. Therefore, although I do not think the sons of the east will ever be other than trouble to us, I consider that they are less trouble where they are, in Nephane and in their villages, rather than scattered and shooting arrows at my occupation forces. Religiously, I will yield nothing. But I had rather have a city than a ruin, a province than a desolation. Considering that it is your city and your land in question, you may perhaps agree with me."
"We might," said Ian t'Ilev when she looked aside at him. "If not for that phrase occupation forces. The Families rule Nephane."
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