The warrior who had been roasting his own meat had taken refuge behind a shield and edged up close to the burning wagon. The gobbet of steak impaled on his sword hissed and sputtered in the flame, and the warrior would occasionally pull it back to take a bite from it before thrusting it out into the fire again. He scowled when he noticed Jedra watching him, until Jedra raised his mug in toast to his benefactor. Then the elf nodded curtly and turned back to his show of bravado.

"That's Sahalik," Galar said softly as he led them onward. "He's our best warrior, and next in line to be chief."

Jedra glanced over at the current chief, a battle-scarred elf a foot shorter than Sahalik and thirty pounds lighter. He walked with a limp and his face bore a haunted look, as if he knew his time was almost up. "Ah," Jedra said, unwilling to gamble on a more informative reply.

What's Sahalik's problem? Kayan mindsent to Jedra.

Elves don't like half-elves, he sent back, trying not to speak aloud at the same time. He was still unused to their mental rapport. They think we're impure.

Oh, great, Kayan sent. Then she shrugged. Well, at least I don't have to worry about the men here, then.

Jedra laughed. Where do you think half-elves come from? Elves don't mind associating with human women, so long as the humans don't expect their children to be accepted by the tribe.

Oh.

"What do you find funny?" Galar asked, and Jedra realized he had laughed aloud.

Thinking fast, he said, "Oh, just the sudden reversal of fortune. A week ago I would never have guessed I'd be dining with elves by the wreckage of the slave caravan that was taking me to Tyr." A murmur of laughter spread among everyone within earshot, and Galar explained. "You city dwellers expect too much certainty in your lives. We nomads of the desert know that life is harsh and unpredictable. We have learned to deal with each day as it comes to us. We have a saying: 'Hope for the best, but expect the worst; that way all your surprises will be pleasant.' "

"Wise counsel," Jedra said. "I'll try to remember it while I travel the desert."

"Oh, that's nothing. I could teach you all sorts of things," she said, batting her eyelashes and thrusting her hips to the side. "I like 'em young and naive."

Jedra blushed while the elves laughed, and the woman said, "Come on, honey, let's get you and your friend here some food before you faint on us. There's plenty of night left for education."

I bet there is, Kayan sent sarcastically. If you touch her, I'll

Don't worry, Jedra told her. She's just playing with me. I'll get away before anything comes of it.

You'd better, Kayan warned.

Jedra felt a mixture of alarm and security at Kayan's obvious jealousy. They had known each other for only a week, and though they'd become close friends while chained side-by-side in the slave hold, even their mental communion couldn't guarantee commitment now that they were free.

Gratefully, Jedra let the elf woman carve a slice of roast for him from the spitted inix. Food would still many tongues, at least for a while. And the woman was right, there was plenty of night left. Anything could happen to distract her.

He watched her prepare the food for him. She laid the slice of meat on a slab of unleavened bread and smothered it in some kind of shredded, pickled vegetable, then folded the whole works over and handed it to him, both ends dripping fat and pickle juice. Jedra looked at it dubiously, but when he bit into it he nearly melted.

Wow! he sent to Kayan, then when he'd chewed and swallowed he echoed the sentiment aloud. "This is wonderful!"

"It should be," the elf woman said. "It was all headed for Kalak's table before we appropriated it from the wagon."

Jedra shuddered to think that he was robbing Tyr's powerful sorcerer-king of his dinner, but then the elven part of him evidently accepted the advice he'd been given and he closed his eyes and savored the moment. Yes, he enjoyed dining from a king's larder. With a beautiful ex-templar woman by his side, at that. Things didn't get much better than this.

He was wrong. True to his word, after the meal Jedra circulated among the elves, removing himself and Kayan from the woman who had propositioned him, and presently they heard another source of laughter and good spirits among the tents the elves had pitched a hundred feet or so from the burning caravan. When they went to investigate they found an incredible sight: the elves were taking baths. The caravan had reached an outpost only a day before it was attacked, so its storage tanks had been full, and since there was more water than the elves could carry with them they were using two barrels of it for the greatest of luxuries.

This group had a bit more modesty than the warriors. They had set the water barrels inside two tents, one for men and one for women. Jedra and Kay an braved the elves' good-natured jibes and joined the lines, and when their turns came they were each given a full minute to climb into their barrels and soak off the grime of captivity.

A water vendor had once let Jedra reach an arm all the way to the bottom of a full cask to retrieve a ceramic coin; until now that had been his only experience with immersion. When he untied his breechcloth and climbed into the barrel, the sensation of cool wetness sliding up his legs and chest was at once the most alarming and most sensuous thing he had ever felt. He took a few seconds to savor the experience, then quickly scrubbed himself with one of the cloths draped over the barrel's side, ducked his head under and swished his hair around, and climbed back out again.

He dripped dry while the next person bathed, all the while marveling at how strange and wonderful his life had become.

Kayan smelled of flower blossoms. The women had added perfume to their bathwater, and now every time Jedra drew close to her he noticed it. He worked up his courage and took her hand while they explored the rest of the elf camp.

Beyond the tents they found post-and-rope pens holding fifteen or twenty kanks, the long, beetlelike creatures the elves used for pack animals. Kanks also produced honey in melon-sized globules on their abdomens; when one of them brushed by the edge of the pen Jedra reached out and grabbed a small nectar sack.

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "This is good."

"Of course it is," Jedra said. "I wouldn't give you anything that wasn't."

"Of course not." She smiled and took his hand again, and they walked slowly back into camp, eagerly finishing off the rest of the honey like a couple of children.

As darkness fell and the flames died down the air began to grow colder. The elves all wore brightly colored cloaks that they wrapped around themselves when they began to feel the chill, but Jedra had only his slave-issue breechcloth and Kayan her breechcloth and halter so they found themselves drifting back closer to the fire as the night wore on.

That turned out to be a bad idea. Under the flickering firelight, Kayan's freshly cleaned and untanned temple-dweller's skin shone like a white beacon, and as the only uncovered woman there, her ample bosom drew every male's attention. Jedra put his arm around her for warmth, but also to let everyone know they were a couple. Even so, it seemed as if every pair of eyes were focused on them.

I think maybe we should try to find a place to settle down for the night, Jedra mindsent to her.

Someplace warm, Kayan sent back. She shivered within the circle of his arm.

I'll ask Galar where we can sleep. Jedra scanned the semicircle of faces for their friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. He cast his consciousness outward psionically, and eventually found the elf off in the direction of the tents set up near the slip face of a dune a few dozen paces from the caravan. He couldn't sense which tent the elf was in or what he was doing, but that didn't matter. Galar? he sent. Sorry to trouble you, but Kayan and I are cold and tired. Is there somewhere we can sleep?