Kurt twisted, kicked furiously and threw the would-be assassin tumbling. He righted himself, and a feral human face stared at both of them, panting, the knife still clenched for use.

The human advanced the knife, demonstrating it to them, ready. “Quiet,” he hissed. “Stay quiet.”

Kurt shivered, reaction to the near-slaughter of Kta. The nemet was unharmed, breathing hard, his eyes also fixed on the wild-haired human.

“What do you want?” Kurt whispered.

The human crept close to him, tested the cords on his wrists. “I’m Garet,” said the man. “Listen. I will help you.”

“Help me?” Kurt echoed, still shuddering, for he thought the man might be mad. The leaf-smell was about him. Feverish hands sought his shoulders. The man leaned close to whisper yet more softly.

“You can’t trust Renols, he hates the thought of the Ship. He’ll find a way to kill you. He isn’t sure yet, but he’ll find a way. I could get you into your ship tonight. I could do that.”

“Cut me free,” Kurt replied, snatching at any chance.

“I coulddo that.”

“What do you want, then?”

“You’ll have the weapons in the little ship. You can kill Renols then. Iwill help you. Iwill be second and I will go on helping you.”

“You want to be captain?”

“You can make me that, if I help you.”

“It’s a deal,” said Kurt, and held his breath while the man made a final consideration. He dared not ask Kta’s freedom too. He dared not turn on Garet and take the knife. The slim chance there was in the situation kept him from risking it; in silence, once inside the ship, he could handle Garet and stand off Renols.

The knife haggled at the cords, parting the tough fiber and sending the blood excruciatingly back to his hands. He rose up carefully, for Garet held the knife ready against him if he moved suddenly.

Then Garet’s eyes swept toward Kta. He bent toward him, blade extended.

Kurt caught his arm, fronted instantly by Garet’s bewildered suspicion, and for a moment fear robbed Kurt of any sense to explain.

“He is mine,” Kurt said.

“We can catch a lot of nemet,” said Garet. “What’s this one to you?”

“I know him,” said Kurt. “And I can get cooperation out of him. He’s not about to cry out, because he knows he’d die; he knows I’m his only chance of staying alive, so eventually he’ll tell me all I ask of him.”

Kta looked up at both of them, well able to understand. Whether it was consummate acting or fear of Garet or fear of human treachery, he looked frightened. He was among aliens. Perhaps it even occurred to him that he could have been long deceived.

Garet glowered, but he thrust the knife into his belt and led the way out into the tangle of huts outside.

“Sentries?” Kurt breathed into his ear.

Garet shook his head, drew him further through the village, up to the landing struts, the extended ladder. A sentry did stand there. Garet poised to throw, knife balanced between his fingertips. He drew back—

—the hiss and chunk!of an arrow toppled him, clawing at the ground. The sentry crouched and whirled, and men poured out of the dark. Kurt went down under a triple assault, struggling and kicking as they hauled him where they would take him, up to the ladder.

Renols was there, ax in hand. He prodded Kurt in the belly with it. His ugly face contorted further in a snarl of anger.

“Why?” he asked.

“He came,” said Kurt, “threatened to kill me if I didn’t come at once. Then he told me you were planning to kill me. I didn’t know what to believe. But this one had a knife, so I kept quiet.”

“Sentries are dead,” another man reported. “Six men are dead, throats cut. One of our scouts hasn’t come back either.”

“Garet’s brothers,” Renols said, and looked at the men who surrounded him. “His folk’s doing. Find his women and his brats. Give them to the dead men’s families, whatever they like.”

“Captain,” said that man, biting his lip nervously. “Captain, the Garets are a big family. Their kin is in the Red band too. If they get to them with some story—”

“Get them,” said Renols. “Now.”

The men separated. Those who held Kurt remained. Renols looked up at the entry to the ship, thought silently, then nodded to his men, who brought Kurt away as they walked through the camp. They were quiet. Not a sound came from the encampment. Kurt walked obediently enough, although the men made it harder for him out of spite.

They came to the hut from which he had escaped. Renols stooped and looked inside, where Kta was still tied.

He straightened again. “The nemet is still alive,” he said. Then he looked at Kurt from under one brow. “Why didn’t Garet kill him?”

Kurt shrugged. “Garet hit him. I guess he was in a hurry.”

Renols’ scowl deepened. “That isn’t like Garet.”

“How should I know? Maybe Garet thought he might fail tonight and didn’t want a dead nemet for proof of his visit.”

Renols thought that over. “So. How did he know you wouldn’t raise an alarm?”

“He didn’t. But it makes sense I’d keep quiet. How am I to know whose story to believe?”

Renols snorted. “Put him inside. We’ll catch one of the Garets alive and then we’ll see about it.”

The human left. Kurt tested the strength of the new cords, which were unnecessarily tight and rapidly numbed his hands—a petty measure of their irritation with him. He sighed and leaned his head back against the post, ignoring Kta’s staring at him.

There was no chance to discuss matters. Kta seemed to sense it, for he said nothing. Someone stood not far from the hut, visible through the matting.

Quite probably, Kurt thought, the nemet had added things up for himself. Whether he had then reached the right conclusion was another matter.

Eventually first light began to bring a little detail to the hut. Kta finally slept. Kurt did not.

Then a stir was made in the camp, men running in the direction of Renols’ hut. Distant voices were discussing something urgently. The commotion spread, until people were stirring about in some alarm.

And Renols’ lieutenants came to fetch them both, handling them both harshly as they hurried them toward Renols’ shelter.

“We found Garet’s brothers,” Renols said, confronting Kurt.

Kurt stared at him, neither comforted nor alarmed by that news. “Garet’s brothers are nothing to me.”

“We found them dead. All of them. Throats cut. There were tracks of nemet—sandal-wearing.”

Kurt glanced at Kta, not needing to feign shock.

“Two of our searchers haven’t come back,” said Renols. “You say this one is a chief among the nemet. A lord. Probably they’re his. Ask him.”

“You understood,” Kurt said in Nechai. “Say something.”

Kta set his jaw. “If you think to buy time by giving them anything from me, you are mistaken.”

“He has nothing to say,” said Kurt to Renols.

Renols did not look surprised. “He will find something to say,” he promised. “Astin, get a guard doubled out there. No women to go out of camp today. Raf, bring the nemet to the main circle.”

It would be possible, Kurt realized with a cold sickness at the heart, it would be possible to play out the game to the end. Kta would not betray him any more than he would betray the men of Tavi.To let Kta die might buy him the hour or so needed to hope for rescue. Possibly Kta would not even blame him. It was always hard to know what Kta would consider a reasonable action.

He followed along after those who took Kta—Kta with his spine stiff and every line of him braced to resist, but making not a sound. Kurt himself went docilely, his eyes scanning the hostile crowd that gathered in ominous silence.

He let it continue to the very circle, where the sand was still dark-spotted with the blood of the night before. He feared he would not have the courage to commit so senseless an act, giving up both their lives. But when they tried to put Kta to the ground, he scarcely thought. He tore loose, hit one man, stooped, jerked the ax from his startled hand and swung it toward those who held Kta.