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"Good day," Tim said carefully.

"You have business in this valley?"

"We seek passage to the northern steppe," said Tim. "No more."

All the riders bristled at this.

"What is your business on the steppe?" the chief rider demanded. "You bring them weapons?"

"No," Kyle said quickly. "We seek new land to live in, that's all. Peaceful passage."

The other four riders were now walking their mounts down each side of the wagon, surrounding it.

"I am Dafu Lei," said the chief rider. "You shall be guests in our house. Follow me." He backed his horse out of the way, not taking his eyes off them.

Kyle and Tim could only choose between complying or shooting, and the latter meant starting a fight with four enemies at their backs. On the other hand, no request had been made for their weapons. That was a good sign.

Kyle shook the reins and started the wagon forward.

Dafu Lei brought his mount into step.

"What is the name of this valley?" Kyle asked.

"This is the Guanggo Valley," said Dafu. "We are from the House of Lei, deportees from the planet Xanadu. The House of Horn is also from Xanadu. We are the only two houses in the valley."

"Who lives in the stone tower on the mountainside?"

"That is Castle MacLeod, home of Clan MacLeod. The Clans MacLeod, Munro, and Robertson live on that slope. They are from Covenant, and call their ridge the Highlands."

"What about the other side?" Kyle asked, nodding toward the wooden houses barely visible in the forest opposite.

"The Mozark Hills, they call them. The Coons, Ga

Tim was eyeing Dafu's mount. It was a small, sturdy brown horse. Kyle couldn't tell much else about it.

"Part Arabian, is it?" Tim asked.

"Half," said Dafu, proudly. "Half quarterhorse. She is very strong and healthy."

"Looks it," Tim said quietly.

The House of Lei was, as Kyle had seen from a distance, a small compound of several buildings with a courtyard surrounded by a high wall, all of stone. As they neared it, he was able to see that the family herded muskylopes and horses and raised some hardy, high-altitude crops.

The patriarch of the Lei Clan came out to meet them. His name was Lungho Lei. He was about fifty years old and introduced himself, in a reserved but courteous ma

Kyle and Tim were shown to a small unheated room in the main house and brought water for washing. The room had one window, barred with a decorative ceramic dragon sculpture fitted into the opening. There was no glass, only an inside wooden shutter. An electric lightbulb lit the room, powered by the windmill and an old generator elsewhere on the grounds.

They had been told to leave their weapons in the wagon, but had not exactly been forced to surrender them. Both brothers were more uncomfortable here than they had been in the yurts and tents of their other hosts. Their wagon was farther away from them and when the front gate was closed for the night, it was locked in and so were they. They were being watched closely.





That night, Lungho Lei hosted them at di

Lungho Lei's white hair was short, but he had indulged in a three-pointed white beard. He stroked it casually as he asked the brothers stories of their passage. They answered with small anecdotes, revealing as little of themselves as they could. Other members of the House of Lei spoke quietly among themselves at times but did not address Kyle and Tim directly. When di

Di

"What's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Linwah," she whispered. "Are you really from Earth itself?"

"Yes. From Hawaii."

Her eyes widened, but she hurried away, looking around her guiltily.

"So," said Lungho Lei, studying Kyle. "You have come north a very long way to reach us. You travel to the land of our enemies. Why?"

Kyle tensed. His mind went blank for an answer. The wrong response might get them killed, or at least turned back on foot without their wagon and belongings.

"We did not know they were enemies of yours," Tim said easily, landing on his feet once again. "To be honest, we seek only a safe place to settle."

"Which tribe do you seek?"

Tim shrugged, picking up a mushroom with his chopsticks. "We don't even know who the tribes are." He continued eating.

"Mongols of the Merkit, Naiman, and Mangkhol tribes predominate," Lungho Lei said quietly. "We of the Triad Clans hold the northern pass of this valley against them, as my-and your-distant ancestors once did against theirs on old Earth." He smiled. "The irony amuses me. The danger, however, is real."

"I hear," said Tim casually, "that a high, dry wind off the northern steppe has developed a high altitude desert nearby."

"It is a poor land," said Lungho Lei, nodding affirmation. "They raid us and, when they are not in evidence, we of the Triad Clans sometimes raid each other. Our feuds come and go, but they are matters within Guanggo Valley. Weapons for the Mongols are another matter, one of the outside. So are the nomads who graze to the south of us-and those who pass through their land unharmed."

"We have very few weapons," said Kyle.

Lungho Lei nodded and caught the eye of someone in the back of the modest hall. Two young men who were not in the di

As Kyle watched, they opened the case and turned it. The case was full of sealed vials of fluid and some other equipment he didn't recognize. Two small booklets were also in it, and some type of instruments in padded holders.

"Forgive my inhospitality," said Lungho Lei. "I had your wagon searched because you told us you seek our enemies. These vials would be of great value to them."

Kyle looked at Tim in alarm.

"We have recognized their contents," said Lungho Lei. "What breeds do you have here?"

Tim gri

"Such horses would make a man very wealthy in any valley," said Lungho Lei. He showed no outward sign of surprise. "In the land to the north of us, they could make a man into a king. This is why you seek the northern steppes."

Horses, Kyle thought. Of course. That had been Tim's hobby back in their former life. On a wild planet like this, they were far more valuable than any currency.