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"That went better than I thought it would," Crese
He nodded, handing Bryntelle up to her. "We're not safe yet. If this E'Menua doesn't like us we'll be lucky to get away. From what I hear, the Fal'Borna aren't gentle with those they consider their enemies."
They rode after the four men, following them to the middle of the settlement. Once again, people stared at them-it seemed to Crese
And in truth, Crese
Grinsa seemed to notice as well. "In all my years of living with the Eandi," he said to her in a whisper, "I never felt as conscious of how white my skin is as I do right now."
She just nodded, and they rode on.
Q'Daer dismounted before a large circular structure. It was made of wood, and it had animal skins pulled taut all around it. Crese
"Sturdy, secure against wind and rain, but light, and probably very easy to take down and carry."
"All our z'kals are made so," Q'Daer told him. "We move with the herds. We can't spare time to build heavier homes and dismantle them. And as I told you, the Fal'Borna waste nothing."
"Don't you get cold during the Snows?"
"Each z'kal has a fire circle within, and a vent at the top for smoke." He gri
Grinsa smiled halfheartedly and glanced at Crese
"I'll tell the a'laq that you're here," the man said. He entered the shelter through a flap that was held in place by a series of hooks, also made of bone.
"What are we going to say to this a'laq?" Crese
"I don't know. We don't even know for certain that we'll be asked to join their clan. Let's just wait and see."
Crese
Before long, Q'Daer emerged from the shelter and nodded to Grinsa. "He'll see you now."
Both of them started forward, but the man held up a hand and shook his head. "Your concubine can wait out here."
Crese
Q'Daer glanced at her, his expression infuriatingly placid. Then he faced Grinsa again. "It would be best if she remained out here."
But Grinsa shook his head. "I'm sorry, Q'Daer. If the a'laq wants to see us together, so be it. But I won't go in alone." "The a'laq doesn't give audiences to concubines." "I'm not his concubine!"
"She's not my concubine!"
They said these simultaneously, shared a brief look, then faced the
Fal'Borna again.
"She's not a Weaver."
"No, she's not. But in the Forelands, that doesn't matter."
Q'Daer shook his head, clearly u
"Then perhaps it's best that we move on, without meeting him."
"No," the man said. He looked at them both, his lips pressed thin. Then he went back into the shelter.
"You knew about this concubine thing, didn't you?" Crese
A small smile crept across Grinsa's face. "You said you didn't want to hear."
"Yes, I did. But I think you enjoyed that just a bit too much." He laughed.
Q'Daer emerged again just seconds later, appearing relieved. "He'll see you both," he said. He watched them expectantly, no doubt wondering why they weren't more pleased.
Wordlessly, they stepped past him and into the shelter.
It was warm within, and it smelled strongly of smoke and cooked meat and sweat. A fire burned low within a ring of stones in the center of the space, and on the far side of the fire, directly opposite the entrance, sat an old Qirsi man. He was dressed much as Q'Daer had been, down to the thin necklace and white stone. Like the other men they had seen, he wore his long white hair tied back from his face. Even sitting, he appeared powerful, with a broad chest and thick neck. His eyes were large and round, like those of a cat, and his face tapered to a thin, sharp chin, giving him the look of some preternaturally intelligent beast.
Crese
"I don't usually allow the concubines of other men into my z'kal," he said in a gravelly voice, once they had settled themselves beside the stone circle.
Crese
"Crese
"Those are your customs, not ours."
He gri
Grinsa only hesitated for an instant, but it was enough. "In all ways that matter, Crese
"Ah," the a'laq said, nodding slowly. "I see. There is room, then, for discussion."
"No," Grinsa said. "There's not."
"Are you bound to a clan yet, Forelander?" the a'laq asked, as if the previous matter had been settled.
"We've only been on the Qirsi side of the Silverwater for a few days. The Fal'Borna are the first clanfolk we've encountered."
"How fortunate for you," the man said, seemingly without irony. "We look forward to exploring other parts of the land as well, and perhaps meeting other folk from other clans."
The a'laq's smile faded slowly. "Why would you want to do that?" "We're new to the Southlands. We're curious."
For a long time, the man said nothing. He held two fingers to his lips, tapping them absently. At last, he reached for a small log and threw it onto the fire, sending a flurry of bright orange sparks into the air.
"I have some idea of how Weavers are treated in the Forelands. I know they're feared, even hated. I know that many have been put to death over the centuries. Isn't that so?"
Grinsa nodded.
"Perhaps you've noticed that their status here among the clans is somewhat different."
"I've gathered as much, yes."
"A Weaver who comes among us unbound to any clan is rare indeed. Weavers are something of a commodity, not like drel, mind you. They're not common chattel. They're gold. They're gems. They are prized by all. This is why we insist that Weavers join with other Weavers, so that they might beget yet more Weavers." His eyes flicked toward Crese