CHAPTER 7 Entering The Lord of Tarc's Tents

By the time they had the tent taken down and the camp stowed on the pack horses, a delegation was coming to meet them. If they'd been planning on just passing by, it wasn't going to be allowed without confrontation. They grinned small tight smiles and got into place. Thayne rode at the head with Obi at his left, Petroi at his right, and Justinian coming behind, the pack horses behind him. They rode directly into the grazing grounds of the Lord of Tarc and towards the delegation coming towards them.

"We come as Seconds representing a Candidate Clan Head. May we sit in your clan council today, according to the Law and ancient traditions of the Clans?" Thayne was the one who spoke.

"Welcome to the Clan of the Saddle. The High Lord of Tarc invites you to also stay for the feeding of the traveller upon the land and enjoy the entertainments of his clan this evening, in accord with the wishes of the All, who gives to those who live and requires us to give in return." It was a Second who'd come, and they wondered which one he was. Likely they were also wondering which Second Thayne was.

"Such would be rude to refuse, for can we refuse the word of the All, the giver of life? We will sit in the tent of the Clan Head and sup with the Clan of the Saddle with gratitude."

The obligatory and traditional greeting exchanged, they were surrounded by the bondsmen who'd come to greet them and led towards the encampment of the Saddle Clan. Behind them came a low wave of gold-green, looking like the wake of a boat behind them that narrowed until it was a line extending from the outer boundary of the grazing grounds of the Lord of Tarc up to the encampment being in sight, but not so close the Children would be found out and distinguished.

From that line, individuals spread out in both directions to circle the camp, each within sight and very quiet whisper distance from the next. As the little delegation dismounted and was led into the clan council tent, the reports began to be whispered around the circle and down the line to the final person in the line who whispered it loud enough to be heard by the next Child south and to Ilena's ears.

The tents are as numerous as a village, and divided by male and female, with the Lord of Tarc's tent in the middle of the women. His bondsmen surround the subdued men in their tents and only the subdued women serve his wives and him. The subdued men cannot leave the circle of men, save they are herdsmen. The council tent is in the center towards the men's side and the dining tents surround it. One main one to the women's side of the council tent, the others surround it. It appears there is one dining tent per clan subdued, plus the main one.

The herds are so numerous as to be to the horizon when you stand at the edge of them. Each herdsman has his own clan's herd separated somewhat so the horses may graze, and they graze on the other side of the clan head's tent from the tents of the men.

From within, Petroi was also whispering, giving his report. The Lord of Tarc has twice the number of bondsmen as the other clans within the council tent, all with his marker. All of the usuri are without to guard the subdued men - none sit in the council tent at all. There are servants from the other clans here in the council tent, perhaps they are the clan heads where he can keep an eye on them. There are four Seconds. We were greeted by a Left Hand Second in the morning delegation.

The Lord of Tarc wears so many subdued clans markers there is no place left in his hair to add another braid. It is the same with the wife markers and they are braided thin. It looks like they have been freshly braided this morning, but I think it's only for our benefit. It is too many to rebraid more than once per week as the hair grows out sufficient to need it. His bondsmen have a minimum of two wives each, and the Seconds four each. It is likely they obey just because he is able to pay them richly in women.

The reports continued, both so that all the people who were there to defend Obi would know what the layout and situation were if an emergency extraction was needed, and so that those at the garrison would know what they needed to know when they came for the Marluk'nak'.

Justinian had been ignored. He was almost surprised. He'd been ignored at all the other clans as well until dinner time, but today he'd worn the Manak' with the Kir'nah. He had been more closely made to come into the clan encampment, but once he was there, when he stayed behind with the pack horses, the clan delegation left him as all the other clans had. As he began to wander around the encampment, he wondered if he would have the difficulties he'd had before in getting people to talk to him, having the adult braid.

He could hear children...but it seemed they were all inside the women's tent ring, and there was no getting into that. The usuri on guard weren't keen on teaching either, though there might be opportunity later. There were two places where it looked like a path had been beaten from inside the ring of women's tents to the outer ring where the usuri stood watch, and the grass had been pressed down by many people sitting. He would keep an ear out for children's voices to come out from among the tents and watch and listen with them.

He passed an usuri, who watched him walk past. Justinian nodded pleasantly, but didn't receive so much as anything other than a stare of suspicion. He sighed to himself, It really is a prison. He didn't know who would hear it, but he didn't want to feel quite so alone. Maybe one of the nightwalkers outside the tents would hear it. He looked down between a row of tents again. Ah, he'd reached the cooking area. Now there were finally people...but they were slaves. The ones he couldn't talk to. He paused and looked at them in consternation. It was finally an opportunity to talk to people, but he wasn't allowed to.

Because of his frustration, he had an idea he hadn't had before. In Tarcian, he whispered, The Children cry. The All asks why?

He was rewarded with many heads raising, hands pausing in their work. There were mostly women in the cooking area, but there were also men. Justinian assumed that the men were required to feed the men's dining tents and the women were to cook and feed the women's dining tents. Eyes glanced at each other among the people in front of him, then he heard steps coming his way from the ring of usuri. He moved on, but to move around the tents until he was in another gap where he could see the cooking fires and be closer to them. The Naluk' has spoken and been rebuked. Who can stay the Change?

Now hands were nervous and heads didn't come up, but the glances between people led to them trying to find where the voice was coming from. There were no footsteps near Justinian, but he did see an usuri coming into the clearing. He faded back and walked around the tents again. He was walking the men's tents, since he would get into trouble in the women's tents, and he reached the boundary. He stopped and one more time looked towards the cooking area. The Marluk' seeks to understand. He has come, obedient to the will of the All.

This time they had been listening closely to see if they could find the voice. This time, heads turned his way. He looked at them calmly, then into the eyes of the usuri, who'd been standing in the clearing waiting to find him also. Justinian didn't particularly like the look on the usuri's face, and he was coming towards him, so Justinian turned and walked away. He saw something that was troubling. There was a male slave crouched down next to a tent - a woman's tent, and there was a hand reached out through it. The male slave was holding hands with a woman. He would be killed as soon as the usuri saw him.

Justinian walked calmly - fast would make the usuri come faster as well - until he was next to the man. He reached down and lifted the man up by the arm, pulling him to standing next to him. "Have you come to fetch me, then?" he said to the man. The slave looked at him in terror, then confusion. The hand he'd been holding quickly disappeared into the tent, and Justinian released the arm of the man. "I've been looking for a guide, and can't disturb the usuri who stand watch. My brothers have just come into the council tent as Seconds for a Candidate Clan Head, and your tents are a maze." The usuri was now visible and the man standing before Justinian suddenly was sweating, his eyes frightened again. Justinian waited calmly for an answer.

The slave swallowed, then nodded. "I'll assist you," he said. "Where do you wish to go?"

"I need to go to the south end of the tents. It's there we'll pitch our tent."

The slave frowned. "Ah...I'm sorry. No tent of men can be placed on that side of the encampment."

"We aren't interested in the women of this clan," Justinian said firmly. "Our clan head has forbidden us from women until our task is completed. It's our requirement that we pitch our tent on the south side of the clans we visit, and we cannot be disobedient. We may walk around the women's tents on the outside; we don't have to go through."

The usuri walked up to them and folded his arms. "The High Lord of Tarc must approve."

Justinian looked at him, his face set into the full calm neutrality of his training, and exuded the disapproval he felt at being forbidden to be obedient. It was just as effective on the Tarcs as any Clarinees. "I will find a place where it's required. If the Saddle Clan Head should take offence, then perhaps it would be good for you to tell him it has been required of us." He turned away from the usuri and motioned to the slave.

The slave, having been given an order, turned and walked down the split between the women's and men's tents. Justinian moved to follow him. The usuri growled and stepped forward. "Who is your clan head that the word of one is greater than the word of the High Lord of Tarc?"

Justinian turned and looked back at him briefly. "Some have chosen to call that one Naluk', but the name I know that one by is another one. You do not recognize it." He was gratified by the stunned look on the usuri's face, and he turned away again and followed the slave, leaving the usuri behind. He sighed and whispered to Obi, Petroi, and Thayne, I've given it away and openly said to an usuri my clan head is called Naluk' by some but I know that one by another name they don't recognize. He tried to prevent me from setting up our tent on the south, which is the women's side of the sleeping tents, though I explained that our clan head has forbidden us from women until our task is complete and required that we pitch our tents on the south. I told him to take it up with the Lord of Tarc, but I wouldn't be disobedient. He asked who my clan head was that had more authority than the High Lord of Tarc. I answered him honestly. If you can't win us our obedience, we'll need to flee. ...I'm sorry, Thayne.

He said he was sorry to Thayne, because it was Thayne who would have to defend them. He was the voice today, and for the first time, and in front of the most difficult of the clan heads. "Eh?" Justinian suddenly had to come to a halt. The slave had stopped and was staring at him.

"What are you doing?" The slave asked him.

"Talking to my brothers," he answered honestly. "They'll need to know why the usuri has come to complain to the Saddle Clan Head." Justinian looked ahead, and could see they were near the edge of the encampment, but the opposite side they had arrived at. "Ah, I think I can find my way from here. Thank you very much." Then he tipped his head and quietly whispered, in Tarcian again, Was that your wife? Will my words keep her alive yet a few more weeks? The All will come and the Naluk' to the council. I desired to give her hope to hold on yet a little longer.

The slave stared at him, then reached out a hand, tears coming into his eyes. He lightly touched Justinian on the chest, near his right shoulder, as if to make sure for himself he was standing with a physical person. Justinian allowed it and didn't move, and he knew his emotions had leaked out again, showing his compassion. It was the one thing he had never been able to learn right. The slave bowed to him. "Thank you very much."

Justinian nodded. Next time, speak through the tent so you aren't seen touching, though it was my fault for bringing him through. My apologies. As he walked off to fulfill his own duty, he left the slave staring after him in complete amazement.

-o-o-o-

Obi, Petroi, and Thayne all sighed when they received the message. At least he'd given them warning and the usuri hadn't arrived yet. They'd just finished most of the opening pleasantries. Thayne nodded, his indication to the other two, and included their request as part of it. "Clan head, you've welcomed us with open arms to stay the night with your clan. We would surely be grateful for your hospitality; however, we must be obedient to our own clan head." He paused.

The Lord of Tarc looked at him coolly. "It is the responsibility of all in a clan to be obedient to their clan head," he said.

Thayne found it interesting that he didn't include the obligatory 'surely' with it, or even the 'truly'. It was more like he'd become used to teaching the law from his own voice. "Indeed." Thayne was happy to use that to his advantage. "Then may I tell you what our requirements are, so that we may say we have been obedient?" The Lord of Tarc nodded. "We've been commanded by our clan head that we aren't to touch the women of any clan until our task is completed in the Marluk'nak'." That got him narrow eyes from the man he sat across from. "The second requirement is that we must pitch our tent on the direct south of each encampment that we visit. We cannot vary from this. We've seen that in your encampment the south is reserved for the women and horses. How shall we fulfill our requirement? It would be better for us to refuse your kind offer of hospitality than to disobey our clan head."

This worked both to settle the matter quickly and to test this council, for it was the sort of quandary such councils met with deliberation and wisdom to settle . Obi nodded his approval, though it would seem to the host clan he was merely adding his agreement to the last sentence of Thayne's. Obi, being Father in the Family of Mother, was sitting to the left of Thayne. Petroi was to his right. They could tell they'd thoroughly confused the Lord of Tarc, and many of his men as well. Not only was Obi not sitting in the main seat, where he should have been as the only one with a Candidate Clan Head braid, the three of them had mixed Seconds braids. Now, having said that they'd received orders from a clan head, and Obi agreeing with them as if a Second, and not a clan head himself, the men of the clan seemed to finally come to understanding. Thayne, in the center with his Second's marker of the Full Moon, and Obi with one as well, and having agreed with the statement about the clan head, were present as the two required Seconds to replace an absent Candidate Clan Head.

The Lord of Tarc's eyes were darting between the three of them and a small satisfied smile crept onto his face. The usuri came in the tent at that moment. The eyes of the Left Hand Second of the Lord of Tarc darted to the usuri and he frowned. He motioned the usuri over and the man went and stood behind him, near the Lord of Tarc, and whispered his message. When he got to the part where Justinian's words had been that some called their clan head the Naluk', the Lord of Tarc's smile deepened, and his eyes became crafty. The three held still and very calm. The next words out of his mouth would be to trap them, was what they felt.

"Certainly, the words of a clan head must be obeyed, even those of a Candidate Clan Head, for how else can the Seconds prove that the candidate is worthy to become a clan head? However, my horses extend so far that to have you pitch your tents at the other end of them would cause you to walk for half the day before being able to enter my tent, or return to yours. Surely that would not be what your clan head would have meant to be. Set your tent, rather, between the women's tents and the herds, and let that be considered proper and appropriate to fulfilling your requirement. For if you will be obedient in that small thing, surely you will be obedient in the other matter."

"Surely," Thayne said.

"Truly," said Petroi.

"Indeed," said Obi, and they knew they had set the test. The light of challenge had come up in the Lord of Tarc's eyes. He would try to make it impossible for them to keep that order this night.

"Thank you for your wisdom and willingness to allow us to be obedient to our clan head," Thayne said with a bit of a bow of his head.

-o-o-o-

We have approval to set up the tent between the women and herds, Petroi sent out. Justinian was just reaching that part of the encampment. He nodded his head and carefully measured the distance between the two, then paced out from the women's tents until he was just inside the grazing ground. The horses in the area looked up at him and he bowed to them as he'd been taught. The stallion headed his way, though it stood off to the side. Justinian turned sideways to him and tucked his head down to the side away from the stallion until it walked closer. Justinian backed up one step and nodded his head, and the stallion continued to walk up to him. Justinian didn't look him in the eye and the stallion put his nose up close enough to sniff him and he held still. It was much easier to do this now that he'd been with Bea for two and a half months. He would have been terrified and run before. Now he was just nervous.

He tucked his head and it felt like the stallion laughed with just a little deep noise in its throat. The stallion turned and walked off and Justinian was bumped in the back with another nose. He stumbled forward a bit, then turned. It was the head mare, so he'd been told. He ducked his head to her, then put his hand out. She put her nose under his hand and he slowly walked down her head until he was at her neck. He rubbed her shoulder, then hugged her, resting on her like he would with Bea. She stood patiently for a bit, then shifted. He let go, rubbed her again then left his hand on her shoulder. The other horses had gone back to ignoring him but now he whistled the 'return' whistle and they looked up at him again.

Their eight came cantering up to him, though they slowed when they saw him standing with the lead mare of a strange herd. They danced a bit, concerned, then Bea slowly walked up to him and he put out his hand for her. She walked up and faced the lead mare and he let go of the lead mare and went to her and hugged her, burying his face in her neck. He could feel Bea stretch out her nose. He'd been told the mares would touch noses, so he assumed that was what they were doing. In effect he'd shown the stallion he wasn't a threat and had asked to be accepted into the herd. That had been done so the head mare had made him introduce himself to her. Now he was introducing his 'mother' mare to the head mare. In this way, he was introducing the two herds together, with him as the intermediary. Because the two stallions hadn't been introduced, they would understand they were still separate herds, but the new, smaller herd would be accepted as 'guests', the same as the humans were being guested by the clan.

The head mare and he went to the rest of the horses in their small herd of eight to introduce her and to reassure them on his part. Once that was done, and everyone was relaxed, Justinian walked back to the southernmost part of the encampment area, just north of the grazing ground. He had to carefully do this measurement. The tent itself had to be all within the encampment space, but the door had to open out directly into the herd's grazing ground. He marked where he wanted the door, then paced to the opposite side the correct amount. Then he walked the circle, passing his door marker. He walked with the sun from rising to setting and he walked it until the grass was flat, nearly seven times. Then he carefully searched the grass inside the circle, cleaning it of debris and old bird's nests. By the time he was done and raised his head to look around for the pack horses, there was a man standing in front of the door marker, his arms folded, and staring at him.

Justinian tipped his head at him and read his braids. It was indeed the herdsman, and he'd guessed right. This was the Saddle Clan's horses - of course he knew that from the ear markers on the horses, but all of the horses here had that ear marker. Only the Saddle Clan's herdsman would have the marker of the Saddle Clan as his house marker, though. All the others would have the house marker removed and the braid empty. Justinian's face lit up in a smile that he didn't know looked both innocent and very bright and he walked to the door marker.

The herdsman blushed. Having such a look on the face of a man who looked more like a woman to a Tarc, with fine features and fine brown hair, with his Kir'nah and Manak' braids on the right and his household braid on the left, and who was yet obviously not of Tarc, it confused the herdsman. "Who are you? You've spoken to the horses and brought the two herds to peace as a youth. You pace a place for a tent as if you will sleep with them rather than with the clan. Are you a child of the horse?"

Justinian's smile widened and the herdsman looked away. "If the horses have accepted me as a Child than I am blessed indeed. I'm setting the place of the tent of my elder brothers and I, according to the word of our clan head, so that we may show our obedience to the clan council for the sake of the Candidate."

The herdsman raised an eyebrow. "There's a Candidate visiting the clan today?"

"Eh, yes and no. Today the Seconds only visit, though they see a Candidate in the tent." As the herdsman's brow furrowed, trying to understand, Justinian hurried on to say, "Ah, perhaps when my brothers come to the tent you'll understand it. ...Is the clan council long in this clan? I don't know how long I'll need to wait."

The herdsman gave him the 'look'. "Do their markers look like yours?"

Justinian shook his head so that they swung. "Mine look like some of them, but theirs are more magnificent for have they not reached P'rathna and become trusted Seconds?" The herdsman raised an eyebrow. He stood there and just looked at Justinian, so the manservant turned from him to return to his own tasks. I've set the horses as proper guests and marked the placement of the tent. The herdsman of the Saddle Clan has come to speak to me and called me a Child of the horse, praising my ability to speak with them. Is it known how long you'll be held in the council tent? He could just hear it being passed not only into the encampment but out into the grass around them to be sent south to Ilena and he blushed. He hadn't thought it would go to her also. He'd only followed her instructions, after all. It wasn't his own effort.

It looks like he wishes to pry from us as much as he can in one sitting. We'll likely be here long. Petroi returned.

Justinian sighed. Children, come and help me. I can't do it myself. I will need two. He turned to the herdsman. "Can you hold the door for me? I can't open the wall myself. It appears they will be a while. I would like to have the tent up before the dinner meal is ready."

The herdsman blinked eyes that had been staring at him wide. After a pause, he seemed to recognize that would indeed a problem and he nodded. He wouldn't be leaving the herd after all, if he stood at the door. Justinian quickly called the first pack horse by turning towards where they were grazing and making a motion. The first pack horse, being used to being the first one, lifted its head and came up to him quickly, wanting to be free of its burden. Justinian untied the ties and lifted the wall section. It was heavy and he struggled to balance it. This was why the others carried them and he just held them and tied them on. He wasn't quite of the same strength and height they were.

A nightwalker in the gold-green cloak of Ilena rose up from the ground and caught the bundle before it fell to the ground. "I'll say you need help," he said, but not unkindly. "Where do I put it?"

Justinian walked him over to the place and had him set them on end, then turn it so the door was in the right place. "Okay. So walk backwards, holding onto these two staves. Watch you don't pinch your fingers as the sticks unfold. It's painful. Herdsman, please hold the door firmly. He's a Child. It's his first time to build the tent of Tarc." The herdsman was struggling to hold onto his sanity and he held the door poles as if holding onto his life with both hands. Justinian walked with the nightwalker who'd come, showing him how to pull on the wall until it was opened into its circle. Then he settled the wall as best it could be, reminded the herdsman to hold on to the two ends of the door, then walked the nightwalker back to the pack horse.

"Okay. I'll untie this next set and if you'll carry it, too, it's even heavier. It has to be tossed up on top of the wall staves and opened just right or we won't be able to set it up. It took our older brothers more than half an hour to figure out how to heft it so we could get started making the roof." He looked at the herdsman they'd arrived next to, "Perhaps the herdsman can teach you how it's done. I can't lift it with enough strength to throw it. I could make it a roof for the grass, but not for such high walls." He smiled at his own joke and the herdsman was again blinded - but then so was the nightwalker when he happened to glance at Justinian, and both other men blushed and looked away.

"Ah, we'll need one more," Justinian said and another nightwalker rose up, a bit of an impish grin on his face. The herdsman jumped slightly. "Hold that side so it doesn't collapse when the roof is thrown up on this side." The new nightwalker nodded and grasped the poles. "Ah, they will still pinch at the joins, so be careful," Justinian warned. Hands were set differently, then Justinian nodded approval. "Herdsman, I'll hold the door. That's my usual job. My elder brothers are all larger and stronger than I. If you'll please show this Child how to place the roof, perhaps tomorrow he may be able to try for himself. Ah! I forgot!" He ran back to the horse and collected the long staff used to raise the roof and walked back with it. "You'll have to hold the door," he said to the first assistant nightwalker, "while you watch him. I'll have to do the roof. The herdsman can't leave the grazing grounds." He gamely walked into the center of the tent area, but all three men looked at him like they weren't sure it was going to work. He looked nearly as thin as the pole and it swayed perilously in his hands.

The nightwalker holding the door looked at the herdsman with a raised eyebrow. The herdsman shook his head and shrugged. "Here is how it's done," he said, giving up and holding his disbelief and confusion at bay for a bit. He lifted the stack of poles, loosened them somewhat, then with a grunt hefted it up in the air, holding onto one pole to make it fan out. He balanced it on the roof poles as the nightwalker on the opposite side staggered slightly as the wall tried to collapse on his side with the force of the landing of the roof poles on top of it. Once he'd rebalanced, the herdsman nodded at Justinian, who was watching him closely. He nodded back, his face set in extreme concentration. He reached up with the pole and began to pull the roof up on the wall. The other three put just as much concentration into helping him get it up. All of them sighed with relief when it was in place and the herdsman was not a little surprised he'd managed it.

Justinian set the end of the pole in the ground and wiped his forehead. "Thank you all for your help. It's only my third time to try it." He set the pole on the ground and trotted back out of the tent area. The second pack horse met him without being called, and again the herdsman gave him the look that asked if he was a child of horses. He pet the horse absently and untied the roof cloth. When he struggled with that, too, the first nightwalker shook his head and let go of the door. The herdsman absently took the door poles and held them himself. "It's the same," Justinian said as they walked back to the tent. "You have to throw it up and get enough up on the roof for me to catch it with the pole. Then I'll pull with the pole and you'll walk it around -"

"Come hold the doors," the herdsman said, interrupting Justinian. "Watch again." The nightwalker put the roof down and took the door poles. The herdsman took up the roof cloth and Justinian entered the tent again. Again the herdsman hefted the roof until it had opened and caught on the roof poles. Justinian quickly grabbed the cloth with the pole, even as the second nightwalker had to support the wall again, though this time he was better prepared. Justinian actually had a bit of tongue sticking out as he concentrated hard on pulling the roof up and then over the center poles. The herdsman walked the fabric around on the herd's side and called to the wall assistant to grab hold and help him get it set on his side. Somehow he managed to do it without letting the wall fall as well, and the roof cloth was set. Justinian set down his pole and shook out his arms.

He set himself in a bit of a crouch, lifted the pole, looked straight up at the center poles, then pushed up with all his might. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?" The first nightwalker asked. The herdsman nodded and the nightwalker made to let go of the doors and help him. "No!" cried the herdsman and they all stopped still. "If you let go the door, the whole of it will fall and we will have to start over."

"Ah...the door is that important?" the nightwalker asked.

He got a lecture, not just in how important it was for the building of a tent, but how it represented the entry of right or wrong thoughts into the mind. When the door was not set firmly, the mind would not be open to right thinking, but would become warped. The lecture continued all while the herdsman returned to the door, made sure it was still stable and upright on the ends and when he finally reached the end, then he said, "Now - go and help your older brother. He doesn't have the height in his arms to lift the roof. Once it's set, then we may release the door."

The nightwalker bowed slightly. "Thank you," he said, but he gave Justinian a jaunty grin the herdsman couldn't see.

Justinian returned a small smile to him and gave him his instructions. Once he thought the nightwalker understood he went to the inside wall near the second nightwalker. "When the roof is high enough, small sticks will come out and settle on the top wall rail. We must set them all before he can release his hold. It's heavy and he is new to it. I'll show you then you'll walk that way and I this and we'll set them all. When you've set yours, call out." Over his shoulder he said, "Don't release the center pole until both of us have said the supports are set." He received a nod and he nodded back.

The man in the center set the pole, then pushed firmly and smoothly until: "Shift the weight towards the door, but just a little or it will all come down on the herdsman," Justinian ordered. "That's right. Now quickly, set the supports." He was off, quickly setting his round and he didn't stop until he reached the nightwalker coming from the other direction. He did have to push the wall a bit to get the last few supports to sit right, but that wasn't unusual. Then they both called it was done and the first nightwalker in the center carefully released his pressure on the roof. It settled and the wall set itself into the ground with the forces and the weight. Justinian walked the circle, looking to see they'd set it right and there weren't any poles bent.

"Okay, now tie the roof ties to the top rail. Set that pole here," he pointed to where they put it for the inner wall. The nightwalker placed it and Justinian took his hand and led him back out of the tent. With both eyebrows raised at him, the nightwalker followed. He grinned and shrugged at the herdsman. "He's still young himself, isn't he?" he said conversationally as they passed. The herdsman nodded, quite in agreement. Justinian looked back with a frown, then saw what he was doing and dropped the hand, gasping and blushing. "Ah, sorry," he mumbled.

The nightwalker rubbed Justinian's head. "No worries. I'd be worried if the Queen's Treasure wasn't like the Queen in some way."

Justinian looked away, then remembered. "Thanks," he said, and turned to the second pack horse. He untied the wall cloth and the nightwalker took it up. They walked back to the tent and Justinian tied up the first door end, then walked with the nightwalker tying up the wall as they went. By the time they were to the door again, the other nightwalker was done tying the roof. "One more, and then we're done," Justinian reassured them. "Thank you, Herdsman. I think we can do it from here. Your teachings are very appreciated." The herdsman nodded and stepped back to watch from a few feet off again. They retrieved the floor and it was carried by the same man again. Justinian grabbed up the inner wall and took it with them as well, but the second nightwalker took it from him, even though it wasn't too heavy for him. Justinian explained how they would roll out the floor and took the inner wall back. They entered the tent and rolled out the floor. When that was done, they took the inner wall from him and helped him with it, because they could.

"Thank you for your help, you may return," he said to them when they came back out of the tent. He walked over to pet the second pack horse and collect the ropes up that had bound the tent pieces to the two horses. The third pack horse came up to him without needing to be asked and he rubbed it. Bea passed him, then stood very close to him. He turned to look. Bea was standing between him and the two nightwalkers. He turned and looked at them with a raised eyebrow. "What's made mother unhappy?"

They rubbed their heads and looked away. "Sorry," they finally said. "We just wanted to say thank you," said the second one.

"Ah, you're welcome?"

They grinned at Justinian before disappearing into the grass again. He shook his head after them. He took both horses with him, one hand on each, up to the door to the tent. Bea stood guard while he took bedrolls off the other, one by one, and set them out in the tent. When the third horse was free of his burdens the fourth appeared at the door and Justinian relieved it of its burdens. He lost himself in the preparations of the tent that he usually lost himself in and it wasn't until he heard the voices of the other three coming that he was pulled back out.

"Justinian, why won't Bea let us in?"

Justinian jerked and jumped up, running to the door. "Ah, Master Obi! Are you done?" He pushed on Bea to get her to move. "Come on, Bea, you know it's - Oh." Behind Obi was not just Thayne and Petroi, but nearly a whole delegation of the clan. Justinian's hands clenched on Bea's curly coat and she stayed put stubbornly. "Ah,… I think it's because you've brought strangers." The delegation blinked at him.

Obi reached over Bea, leaning on her back, and grabbed Justinian by the scruff of his neck, pulling him close. "Justinian...do I need to send you back?"

Justinian blinked. "What?"

"How did you get the tent up?"

"I called two Children to come help. The herdsman and I weren't enough."

"You could have just waited," Obi's voice was smooth...and frightening. "Are you going to learn to not think for once? Didn't we agree that we would set it up late?" Justinian blinked. He would have bowed in apology but Obi's hold was such he couldn't. "You've twice put us in danger now, Justinian. Once for nearly admitting we are what we aren't publicly, and again for showing to them what they shouldn't have seen. Shall I make you pay for it today, or after allowing you to let us be killed by them first? Hmm?"

Petroi walked up to Obi and placed his hand on Obi's shoulder. "Master Obi, he is still young. The first error is the time for teaching." Petroi looked at Justinian. "You can't call the Children while we're within the tents of the clans, Justinian. Do you understand that it frightens them and they don't understand?"

Justinian frowned. "The herdsman wasn't frightened." Obi's hold tightened on the back of his neck and he stiffened. "Ah, okay. I won't do it again."

Petroi said, "And you can't speak to the clansmen as if to the wind. It isn't their way."

"But Elder Brother," Justinian protested, "they understand it...at least those I talked to did."

Petroi shook his head and folded his arms. "Don't do it. Only speak it to those who understand that are not of the clan, and then infrequently. Use the voice of a man to speak here."

Justinian sighed. "Yes, Eldest." Obi shook him slightly. "I'm sorry," Justinian said sadly. "I won't do it again." Obi let him go, but stared at him sternly with his arms crossed.

Justinian buried his head in Bea's back for a bit, then sent her on and bowed them into the tent. Bea still stood between the delegation and the four who entered the tent, not letting them into the tent. Obi's stallion joined her and the others in their little herd gradually gathered as well until all eight were preventing entry.

The delegation went to the herdsman, who was still watching in amazement the entire proceedings. "What happened?" they asked him.

He looked at them. "What happened in the council tent?" he asked back. They all stepped away and began to share their stories.

Inside the tent, the four sat on the sitting pillows Justinian had set out and he passed around cups of water to drink. When they were settled, Obi called Justinian to him and rubbed his head. "Thank you," he whispered to Justinian. "It was well done. Did they give you too much trouble, the nightwalkers?"

Justinian shook his head. In a quiet whisper he answered, "No, and Bea guarded me until you came."

They sat and listened to the stories the herdsman and the delegation traded. The final question they asked one another was, "Why, when he sat as a Left Hand Second, did he act as a Right Hand Second?" Those inside the tent smiled. They had set the stage they wanted to.

"How did the council go?" Justinian asked.

Thayne sighed and shook his head. "I survived it. We'll be tested with women tonight, as anticipated, though it looks like you were able to get it set up just right." He looked around the tent. Justinian nodded. "As for the rest of it, it was a lot of dodging questions so we didn't answer to any of the questions on the claims. It did help to have the usuri claim it for us, though. And, in the end, he is very full of himself, speaking with the mouth of law rather than caution. He is indeed a Lord, unlike any clan head. There was no deliberation in the tent and no other man spoke to advise or give opinion."

-o-o-o-

When their council was done, Obi rose and went to the mouth of the tent. He passed through their horses and his men followed him. As he positioned himself facing the south, the horses moved to be standing around the four of them, guarding them. Obi whispered to the south, then stood waiting. When he received the response, he grinned, bowed and whispered again. He counted time, then raised his hands as is if holding a woman, and began to waltz a stately waltz. As he danced he listened and whispered in response, holding a conversation with his wife as they danced across the distance together. The dances continued to smoothly flow from one to another until he had danced them all with her. Then he bowed to the south and let his partner of air go.

As he turned to go back to the tent, he saw the Lord of Tarc watching him from outside the ring of his horses. The Lord of Tarc was looking at him with a sneer of derision. "What madness have you already brought with your door opened to the wind and your mad movements upon the grass?"

Obi stared at him coldly. "My door opens towards the encampment of my Lord and if you can't see the one who I dance and converse with, what is that to me?" He turned away and walked into the tent so that Justinian could prepare him for the dinner meal.

At the meal, they again sat in the same positions as they had for the clan council, with Justinian behind. However, Thayne was for the most part rudely ignored by the Lord of Tarc and Obi was questioned directly by him and his men.

"Why do you sit on the left?" was but one question, and asked by a bondsman.

"Am I not the support and advisor of wisdom and caution to the clan head of the Full Moon?" he answered calmly.

"How is it you are a Second of two clans?" was another by the Lord of Tarc, believing he was shrewd.

Obi answered, "Are not the Full Moon and the New Moon aspects of the one Moon?" The Lord of Tarc was pleased because one of the symbols of the Naluk' was the moon.

As the questions continued, Justinian was closely watched. Every time he opened his mouth, many eyes were on him, and not just from the men in front of him. It was also the women and the slaves. The women were many, to be almost more than the number of men, and yet it was but a portion of those who were in all of the tents surrounding the Lord of Tarc's tents, they were sure. The slaves were watched over by three bondsmen who were rough and unkind. Only female slaves served the women and only male slaves served the men, save three women who served the Lord of Tarc himself and whom the other men carefully didn't look at. Three women also attempted to serve Thayne, Obi, and Petroi, but Justinian fulfilled his role as always and stepped in to take the serving platters from them, then handed them back when he'd made a determination as to suitability. When they brought the drink, Justinian had already refused them by already having the cups of the three poured and in their hands.

As the efforts of the women became useless, the Lord of Tarc's eyes became hard. He looked carefully and saw their nearly empty plates, by comparison to the plates of the others, and he said, "Surely you have not refused my hospitality this night."

Thayne answered calmly, "Surely we have not, for have we not come into the tent of the Clan Head, and eaten of his food and spoken with him, even though there has been no entertainment offered?"

The entire rows of men sat up stiffly. They had been too focused on their curiosity of their guests and had completely forgotten the entertainment. "Ah, what entertainment would our guests enjoy?" was asked by the bondsman in the center front row.

"Tell me why you are in the seat of honor," Thayne said.

He boastfully complied, telling of his feats of victory over other clans, and the number of bondsmen of those clans he'd killed, and the number of Seconds markers he had taken for himself, and clan head markers for his clan head. All of those sitting to judge this clan had their faces harden into their court faces for their hearts were saddened by the number. The bondsman secretly rejoiced to see their downcast faces, thinking he'd made them afraid of him.

Other men then boasted of their feats of battle and conquest until many of the women were nearly in tears and the irritation of the four was almost more than they could contain. When the women were finally excused and only the men remained, before the Lord of Tarc could say what his entertainment for the night was, Thayne asked, "For our further entertainment tonight, we would hear of the great feats of conquest that the Clan Head himself has accomplished, for surely he cannot have had any lesser than what has been heard so far tonight."

Having been challenged to prove he was worthy of being called clan head in strength, the Lord of Tarc couldn't refuse, though he ground his teeth at having his evening plan blocked in this way. When he recovered, he began to tell his stories of conquest, including how he'd punished the subdued clan heads through humiliation and beatings and making them wear the chains of the disobedient slave, but by the stories it was only because he'd made them become so angry that they couldn't be obedient, the same as he had done to Ilena when she'd been with him. Justinian put a calming hand on Petroi's back when he began to tremble with his barely suppressed anger.

The Lord of Tarc's eyes narrowed. "Right Hand Second," he said to Petroi, "you appear as one from Selicia, and your accent is the same. Have you come from there?"

They all froze just a bit. "Indeed," Petroi said, only allowing a brief hesitation, "this body was born in Selicia."

"Yet you speak Tarc as if a native," the Lord of Tarc continued, "unlike your brother Second on the Left, who has not the Selician accent, but looks like you. Have you been in Tarc before now?"

Petroi paused, then bowed slightly. "I have indeed come into Tarc from before."

"I've hosted several people of Selicia over the years," the Lord of Tarc said smoothly, "and have sent them all away with great gifts and rewards. Would you also be interested in hearing what I can do for a man of Selicia?"

"Surely a gift from a clan head is a thing to consider, but a reward can only come from a Second's own Clan Head." Petroi answered emotionlessly, rejecting him with just enough politeness to not cause offence.

The Lord of Tarc left off questioning him, but looked at his braids carefully again, and looked thoughtful. Then he chose to tell one more story of conquest. He told in his own words, with slyness and hidden malice, of his slow conquest of Selicia, and he watched closely the reactions of both Petroi and Obi. Because they'd expected it, they gave away no reaction other than the polite attention of guest to host, and it was Thayne who answered him politely and with faint praise, as he had all the others. Still, the Lord of Tarc was thoughtful and he looked at them with interested eyes.

When they were returning to their tent after the meal and entertainment, the Lord of Tarc followed after them. "The conquest I spoke of at the end," he said to them when they turned around at his hail, "several of the heirs survived and I have hosted and cared for them." He paused briefly but they didn't change expression. "You wear the Kir'nah of that house," he said to Petroi, "is it possible that you or your brother Second are also an heir and retainer of that house?"

Petroi looked at him for a moment, then coolly answered, "I was in that house for a time when I was a child, but we are not heirs to Selicia."

The Lord of Tarc had a puzzled look briefly, then he smoothly transitioned. "All of that house are now subjugated by myself and are mine."

"I left it before you completed the subjugation," Petroi said, denying the claim the Lord of Tarc owned him, "and am now of the clans as you see them."

The Lord of Tarcs' mouth set in a line, then he said, "I will walk with you to your tent, as I must also go by that way to my own."

The four turned and continued walking towards their tent, placing Thayne at the head and Justinian in the middle, with the other two behind him in the guard position. They allowed the Lord of Tarc to speak but didn't engage in conversation with him until they reached the tent, then they merely wished him good night and disappeared into the tent. They listened while he stood there for a moment, then walked off. That night, the horses at the door kept many women from coming in the tent secretly and they themselves forcibly kept out a few who were more aggressive and pushed passed the horses.