“It would be welcome,” he said. “It would very welcome, my sister.”

She bowed a little and went her way into the women’s part of the house. Kta looked back to Bel, hardly able to do otherwise, and the Sufaki’s eyes were full sober. They demanded an answer.

“Bel,” said Kta, “this house bids you welcome. Whether it is still a welcome you want to accept,—”

“You can tell me that, Kta.”

“I am going to finish the quarrel between us and Tefur, Bel.” Kta then gave Lhe t’Nethim a direct look, so the Indras knew he was earnestly not wanted; and Lhe retreated down the hall toward the darkness, still not daring the rhmei.

“He is a stranger,” said Bel. “Is he of the Isles?”

“He is Indras,” Kta admitted. “Forget him, Bel. Come into the rhmei.We will talk.”

“I will talk here,” said Bel. “I want to know what you are planning. Revenge on t’Tefur—in that I will gladly join you. I have a debt of blood there too. But why is the street still sealed? What is this silence in Irain? And why have you not come there?”

“Bel, do not press me like this. I will explain.”

“You have made some private agreement with the Indras forces. That is the only conclusion that makes sense. I want you to tell me that I am wrong. I want you to account for how you return with the fleet,—for who this stranger is in Elas,—for a great many things, Kta.”

“Bel, we were defeated. We have bought time.”

“How?”

“Bel,—if you walk out of here now and rouse your people against us, you will be blood-guilty. We lost the battle. The Methi Ylith will not destroy the city if we fulfill her conditions. —Walk out of here if you choose, betray that confidence,—and you will have lives of your people on your conscience.”

Bel paused with his hand on the door.

“What would you do to stop me?”

“I would let you go,” said Kta. “I would not stop you. But your people will die if they fight, and they will throw away everything we have tried to win for them. Ylith-methi will not destroy the Sufaki, Bel. We would never have agreed to that. I am struggling with her to win your freedom. I think I can,—if the Sufaki themselves do not undo it all.”

Bel’s eyes were cold, a muscle slowly knotting in his jaw.

“You are surrendering,” he said at last. “Did you not tell me once how the Indras-descended would fight to the death before they would let Nephane fall? Are these your promises? Is this the value of your honor?”

“I want this city to live, Bel.”

“I know you, my friend. Kta t’Elas took good thought that it was honorable. And when Indras talk of honor, we always lose.”

“I understand your bitterness; I do not blame you. But I won you as much as I could win.”

“I know,” said Bel. “I know it for the truth. If I did not believe it, I would help them collect your head,—Gods, my friend, my kinsman-by-marriage,—of all our enemies, it has to be you to come tell me you have sold us out,—for friendship’s sake. Honorably. Because it was fated. Ai,Kta—”

“I am sorry, Bel.”

Bel laughed shortly, a sound of weeping. “Gods, they killed my house for staying by Elas. My people—I tried to persuade to reason, to the middle course. I argued with great eloquence, ai,yes, and most bitter of all, I knew—I knew when I heard the fleet had returned—I knew as sure as instinct what the Indras must have done to come back so soon. It was the reasonable course, was it not, the logical, the expedient, the conservative thing to do? But I did not know until you failed to come to Irain that you had been the one to do it to us.”

“T’Osanef,” said Kurt, “times change things, even in Indresul. No human would have left Tehal-methi’s hands alive. I was freed.”

“Have you met with Ylith-methi face to face?”

“Yes,” said Kta.

Bel shot him a yet more uneasy look. “Gods, I could almost believe—Did you run straight from here to Indresul? Was t’Tefur right about you?”

“Is that the rumor in the city?”

“A rumor I have denied until now.”

“Shan t’Tefur knows where we were,” said Kurt. “He tried to sink us in the vicinity of the Isles, but we were captured after that by the Indras, and that is the truth. Kta risked his life for your sake, t’Osanef. You could at least afford him the time to hear all the truth.”

Bel considered a moment. “I suppose I can do that,” he said. “There is little else I can do, is there?”

“Will you have more tea, gentlemen?” Aimu asked, when the silence lasted overlong among them.

“No,” said Bel at last, and gave his cup to her. He looked once more at Kta and Kurt. “Kta,—I am at least able to understand. I am sorry—for the suffering you had.”

“You are saying what is in your mind,” said Kta, “not what is in your heart.”

“I have listened to what you had to say. I do not blame you. What could you do? You are Indras. You chose the survival of your people and the destruction of mine. Is that so unnatural?”

“I will not let them harm the Sufaki,” Kta insisted, while Bel stared at him with that hard-eyed pain which would not admit of tears.

“Would you defy Ylith-methi for us,” asked Bel, “as you defied Djan?”

“Yes. You know I would.”

“Yes,” said Bel, “because Indras are madly honorable. You would die for me. That would satisfy your conscience. But you have already made the choice that matters. Gods, Kta, Kta, I love you as a brother; I understand you, and it hurts, Kta.”

“It grieves me too,” said Kta, “because I knew that it would hurt you personally. But I am doing what I can to prevent bloodshed among your people. I do not ask your help—only your silence.”

“I cannot promise that.”

“Bel,” Kurt said sharply when t’Osanef made to rise. “Listen to me.A people can still hope, so long as they live; even mine, low as they have fallen on this world. You can survive this.”

“As slaves again.”

“Even so,—Sufaki ways would survive; and if that survives, little by little, you gain. Fight them, spend lives, fall; in the end, the same result: Sufaki ways seep in among the Indras and theirs among you. Bow to good sense. Be patient.”

“My people would curse me for a traitor.”

“It is too late to do otherwise,” said Kurt.

“Are the Families agreed?” Bel asked Kta.

“A vote was taken in the fleet. Enough houses were present to bind the Families to the decision; the Upei’s vote would be a formality.”

“That is not unusual,” said Bel, and suddenly looked at Aimu, who sat listening to everything, pained and silent. “Aimu,—do you have counsel for me?”

“No,” she said. “No counsel. Only that you do what you think best. If your honored father were here,—my lord, he surely would have advice for you, being Sufaki, being elder. What could I tell you?”

Bel bowed his head and thought a time, and made a gesture of deep distress. “It is a fair answer, Aimu,” he said at last. “I only hate the choice. Tonight—tonight, when it is possible to move without having my throat cut by one of your men, my brother Kta, I will go to what men of my father’s persuasion I can reach. I leave t’Tefur to you. I will not kill Sufaki. I assume you are going to try to take the Afen?”

Kta was slow to answer, and Bel’s look was one of bitter humor, as if challenging his trust. “Yes,” said Kta.

“Then we go our separate ways this evening. I hope your men will exercise the sense to stay off the harbor-front. Or is it a night attack Indresul plans?”

“If that should happen,” said Kta, “you will know that we of the Families have been deceived. I tell you the truth, Bel: I do not anticipate that.”

Men came to the door of Elas from time to time as the day sank toward evening,—representatives of the houses, reporting decisions, urging actions. Ian t’Ilev came, to report the street at last under firm control all along the wall of the Afen gate. He brought too the unwelcome news that Res t’Benit had been wounded from ambush at the lower end of the street, grim forecast of trouble to come, when night made the Families’ position vulnerable.