“All this while we feed the coast?” snarled Joesai.

“What is needed exists along the routes I have chosen. It is a matter of organization and coordination, not material.”

Joesai was unsatisfied with a solution that seemed to evade the central issue. “My problem is not numbers. I would be happy to hit Soebo with a Gathering of Ten. I’d prefer it.”

“But such a Gathering would lack moral force. Since the other clans would not have participated, they would not abide by its decisions.”

Philosophy! “Why is my death to be useful to Aesoe’s ends?” That was what concerned Joesai. “Perhaps she knows?”

The woman smiled faintly. Her liquid eyes sparked like the sea. “I am under Aesoe’s oath. I cannot speak.”

Joesai grumbled. “It is a setup. A successful Inquest in the Plaza at Soebo would require a verbal dancer, a man of great wit and irresistible charm, and a fast sidestepper. Even then, he would be murdered. I suggest you, Gaet. A much wiser choicel You take this mission and welcome to it!”

“But a rock-fisted man who insults at the first opportunity is what Aesoe wants.”

“Because he needs a dead man!”

“Exactly,” said Gaet.

“And if I do it my way, swift, and without foot-kissing, I still get murdered.”

“Exactly,” said Gaet.

“Which is why you will do it my way.” Hoemei’s manner was that of a surgeon at work. “You will not enter Soebo with your advance party. You will stay a day’s march from the town and do nothing.”

“God’s Itch, you know I have not the mental capacity to do nothing!”

“You will not rescue your men. You will not make court. You will not fight. You will do nothing. I have my prediction registered in the Archives about the outcome of this affair. It is based on the assumption that you will do nothing. Aesoe has his prediction of the outcome of this event registered in the Archives. His outcome requires your death, perhaps to demonstrate Mnankrei unwillingness to host an Inquest. He does not think you capable of doing nothing. Thus that is what you will do to survive. My solution aids mankind, the Kaiel, and my brother.”

Joesai’s whole inner body was rebelling. Do nothing in the middle of enemy territory? Impossible! “And I just sit there while the Mnankrei skin me alive?”

“The Mnankrei will be poised to respond to your game, and you will have no game. Besides, God is on our side.“ Hoemei grinned at the lethal rifle parked against the door. ”You will have one hundred of those with you. They will not approach you. You will not have to use them.”

Joesai calmed himself. Hoemei was faster of mind than anyone he knew. Survival meant listening to an unshakably loyal brother who had proven his worth. “You know something I don’t know.”

“We are looking at the same chess board.”

Joesai thought about that. His brother had just insulted his intelligence. “If I move to a position one square from Soebo and sit there painting my nails, it is checkmate, eh?”

“In three moves.”

“He is marvelously brilliant,” said the Liethe creature proudly. She had been watching Hoemei. She saw that he was thirsty and rose to bring him a drink before he knew that himself.

Gaet smiled affectionately at Joesai. “Don’t look so bewildered, husband. Hoemei and I have done much feeling in the dark while you’ve been gone.”

Hoemei was cleaning up the meal so that the rubble would not be left for Honey. To keep her out of the way, he insisted she play a melody for them. “And how is Kathein?” The timbre of his voice mixed concern and bitterness.

“Why?” asked Joesai sullenly.

“You’ve seen her more than we have of late.”

“She assaulted me!” exclaimed Joesai indignantly.

Gaet, who had been alerted by the mention of Kathein’s name, rolled off his pillow, chuckling. “She hit you?”

“With verbal fists! I bled internally!”

Gaet stamped his enthusiasm. “She’s learning! I didn’t know she had it in her! That’s a good sign.”

Hoemei, making quick work of the dishes, only smiled.

“And you insects pass for my brothers!” Thoughts of Kathein depressed Joesai.

“We’ll talk more on the morrow. I don’t want to be late for Teenae, and I have flowers to pick up on the way,” said Hoemei.

Gaet didn’t like to see his brother brooding. “Joesai, spend the night with me and Noe at the Great Cloister.”

“No,” rejoined Hoemei. “He should stay here and study my file on Soebo. Honey will spice his time and make his rest a pleasure.”

So, thought Joesai, Hoemei offers the luxuries of the flesh to his uncouth brother who cannot inspire love. Wasn’t that Gaet’s role? He felt sarcastic until he remembered… Noe’s warm teasing… the smile that always lit little Teenae’s eyes under her lush eyebrows. “Wait,” he said, “I have messages.” He took paper and wrote two poems. For Teenae:

THE ALLIANCE DOCUMENT had come in from the printers. Oelita lay curled by the window of her room on the second floor of the maran-Kaiel mansion re-reading its lucid phrases, smelling the inked paper, and feeling smug. The prolog was all hers. She hadn’t let them change a word of it. Some of the free poetry was hers — she liked images — but the contract was mostly the word-smithing of Hoemei’s students, edited by the iron hand of Hoemei himself.

How could Hoemei of the hairy chest and tender smiles love Joesai? They were so different!

The writing of the agreement had been an awesome experience unlike any group work she had ever undertaken. Her confrontations with the Stgal had taught her that priestly councils were ponderous affairs where hidden decisions were made in a guise to appease and lull opponents. Her own heretical group was scarcely better and many had been the time she had been forced to castigate and cajole. In contrast, the Kaiel mongered their wares with open enthusiasm and the precision of practiced survivors.

The group assigned to bargain with Oelita consisted of six men and five women, nine of them offspring of the creches. Three might take her for a game of kol at the temple, proposing, while they played, outrageous and often conflicting deals which they would bamboozle her into buying. The others would be off studying, creating new proposals, testing for flaws.

When she finally agreed to a deal — she smiled remembering her gullibility — they would start to bicker among themselves about why they thought she might later be unhappy with that deal. Sometimes some old teacher of Hoemei would sit with them mediating, teaching, guiding their efforts. They would be radiantly excited one day and dour the next after having dreamed upon the consequences. They were obsessed with consequences.