"Hanan tribe will die."

B'rand blinked. "What?"

"Hanan tribe will die. They choose to die than be slave to 
dragonraidah. Matteen dain Hanan is leader-he choose to
die as well."

"I don't understand. I may not like the idea of a whole tribe 
of horse-boys in the warren, but they're not slaves."

"Horse...boy?"

"I meant...hell, never mind. Just tell him."

Qedhar spoke for a moment with Matten. He turned back and
said, "He ask why he is kept in the cave. He ask why his 
tribe do not bear sword in your camp if are not slave? 
Dragonraidah man use married woman of tribe as he would
slave. How do you explain this? Is Hanan tribe not slave to
dragonraidah?"

B'rand could feel the back of his neck bristling. "Right. Tell our
wounded friend here that he's in this cave because he raped
one of our riders. Or doesn't he seem to remember that? As
far as the swords go, *I* didn't tell anybody that. We simply
don't go around bearing swords, at least not on a regular basis.
It'd look real good if we weren't armed, and the nomads were, and
they all of a sudden decided to rescue Matteen, now wouldn't it?"

Qedhar didn't appear to have listened past the first few seconds.
"Simply don't go around bearing sword?" He asked, slowly. 
He clasped the hilt of one of his swords with his hand. 
"You *choose* not to bear sword?" He shook his head, then
turned away from B'rand.

He spoke to Matteen again. "Matteen say he did not rape
Brisse. He took her as chunor."

"What the hell is that?"

"It is honor. Son of chunor-"

"What?! Honor? What do you know of honor!" B'rand fumed. 
"Take a woman away, use her, and you call that honor! What
a warped, disgusting, sham of-"

"You did not let me finish. Chunor is...concubine. Yes. That is 
your word. Son of chunor is son of Matteen. He can be chief of
tribe, if he is strong."

"That makes it all better? We're supposed to be impressed by 
that?! What you're saying is, if I just swooped out of the sky, 
grabbed a woman, took her home and raped her, and she had 
a son, and I said that the son is mine, that your whole tribe would
be *honored* by that?? Everyone would be just all friendly, right?
Gods!!"

"No, not friendly. Your tribe not allied to Hanan. Hanan tribe would
see honor you pay to chunor, it would not be....so...insulting."

"Insulting? What about the woman? I'd say she'd be pretty damned
insulted!"

Qedhar shrugged eloquently. "She is woman. Her feeling not
matter." 

B'rand held the chieftan's eyes. "You have a dragon. You've been
here. You've seen with your own eyes what it's like here in a 
warren. Women are equal here, and their feelings *do* matter.
They are not property. They ride dragons. And Matteen raped 
a *queen*rider. Brisse is very, very important, and by the gods 
her feelings matter a hell of a lot around here."

"Not in nomad tribe."

B'rand turned away, disgusted. "We don't treat his women like that. 
We're not animals. No one is forced. If a nomad woman doesn't
want to, she doesn't have to. She has the right to refuse. I 
didn't know it was going on, but I would have heard if there was a
rape."

Matteen laughted at the translation to that, and there was a 
lengthy talk. "Matteen say woman afraid of being set on fire by 
dragon. Woman submit, then join Rushela after."

"Who's Rushela?"

Qedhar stared at him. "You are barbarian. Rushela goddess of
dead."

"How many women-" B'rand stopped. "How many of his tribe 
have died here?"

Qedhar shrugged again. "Who knows? Hanan tribe slave to 
dragonraidah, I thought. I not keep count. Many."

"I don't get it. I just don't get it. What have we done that they 
hate and fear us? They started it!!"

Slowly, haltingly, Qedhar translated the story from Matteen, from 
the first dragonrider visits to the flaming of the village. 

"Matteen dain Hanan ask what do you think."

"We didn't do it."

"I do not judge," Qedhar said. "It is way things are. You raid Hanan, 
tribe is yours. Dragonraidah hold much power."

"We are NOT all one warr...tribe," B'rand grated. "I'm telling you,
we didn't do it." 

"What is this other tribe?" Qedhar asked. "What god do other
tribe follow?"

"I don't understand what you mean. I don't think they follow any
god. They're rogues...raiders. They follow their own laws, 
stay hidden in the wild. Away from us. They're dangerous, 
unpredictable. And, the kicker, they are *not* us. If Matteen's 
tribe were raided by them, he had no right to attack Cleft. We
didn't start anything, he did."

After a few seconds of translation, Qedhar said, "Matteen does not
believe you. All dragonraidah the same."

"And you're full of shit. There's more than one tribe of nomads, yes?"

"Of course. I Qedhar dain Gamal."

"Are all the tribes friendly?"

"No. Some tribe allied, some not."

"So doesn't his high chieftain-dain-whatever accept the possibility that
there might be more than one 'tribe' of dragon riders? Some against
each other?"

Qedhar crossed his arms. "Even I do not believe. Dragonraidah one
tribe."

"You don't have to believe me, ask your dragon."

B'rand waited a moment as slowly, understanding crossed the chief's 
features. "This changes things." He spoke rapidly to Matteen, but even
B'rand could tell that it wasn't having much effect.

"You said some tribes are allied?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe I'm asking this...what do you have to do to make an
alliance?"

"You speak for dragonraidah?"

"No...but I'm the first person to talk to."

"Matteen would have done so. He had plan."

"What's that?"

"Matteen's chunor is with child. Child would ally Hanan with 
dragonraidah."

"As long as you understand that there's different...tribes, you might as
well figure out we're named different. Call us, um, Cleft."

Qedhar nodded. "I will remember, and tell Matteen."

"So what if the child isn't his? What if she decides not to keep it?
What if it's mine?"

"Yours?"

"It's a long story."

"If child not Hanan, then tribe will not ally. Hanan will die. Hanan may
die anyway."

"So there's no hope." B'rand sat. "I don't like our friend here, but I can't
stand to be blamed for something I didn't do. He has to understand. 
I don't want the deaths of his tribe on my conscience, especially
over a stupid misunderstanding."

"There is no honor in mistake. It is empty gesture." He spoke to 
Matteen again, was denied. "Matteen dain Hanan decide, not me."

"Well if he's really willing to give up, then he can watch my smiling 
face the whole time." *Rook, can you reach Blanchie and let her
know where I am? I may be stuck here for a while.*

<<Blanchie and her rider are out on patrol, but I'll tell them when 
they return. How long will you be there?>>

*I don't know.* B'rand stared levelly at Matteen, who ignored him.
Qedhar shook his head and left.

****************************

Three hours later, he returned. B'rand sat in his cross-legged position,
staring at Matteen, who studiously continued to ignore him. "B'rand is
brave or foolish to interfere."

"If he's stupid enough to die over this, and take his whole tribe with
him, I'm sure as hell not going to make it easier. And, like you said,
if the child isn't his then there's no hope."

"That not what I said. There is another way." Qedhar sat across from
B'rand and withdrew two metal rods from within his clothing. Both rods
were about a foot long, and an inch thick. "We will play a game."

B'rand was intrigued. Qedhar didn't say, 'I will teach you a game,' or
'You will learn a game.' "I guess, since Matteen isn't paying attention..."

"Matteen pay attention to you. Now, catch!" With his one hand, Qedhar
threw both rods at B'rand.  

B'rand dodged one, but even with his reflexes , he didn't have much to
do. Qedhar was simply too close. He slapped the the other rod, 
altering its path so that it thumped harmlessly on his shoulder.

"I say to catch it."

"Heh!" Matteen interjected. A rapid exchange of words followed.

"What is he saying?" 

"Matteen say that you are not worthy to learn this. You are
barbarian. I say that even you can learn this game, it explain to 
you how Hanan think."

"By throwing metal sticks at me?"

"This is bikken. Bikken used by woman and child. Warrior play 
with as'en." Qedhar pulled two short heavily-taped blades from 
his belt with his hand.

"You throw knives at each other?"

"Throw as'en, and wait. Catch when as'en come back. Keep rhythm
of game. That is Tumari. Does B'rand understand? It is very important."

B'rand looked over at Matteen, who had withdrawn to the far side
of the room. "How does it explain what the Hanan are doing?"

"Hanan make cast. As'en is their life. Hanan throw, tribe wait. 
Hanan trust Rushela to catch. Tribe wait for return, wait for what
Rushela throw back. Hanan hid her face from tribe, now tribe
play Tumari with Rushela."

"So they wait for death. There is no hope."

"Wait for whatever. Pick up bikken and throw."

B'rand picked up the rods and threw. Qedhar grabbed both rods
with a sweeping motion of his hand, then returned the throw, 
different this time; high and low. B'rand caught the rods as Qedhar
slapped his thigh, then threw back. 

Qedhar caught the rods and placed them next to him. "Warrior make
cast and wait. Never know what may come back. It is duty of warrior 
to accept what come, whatever return. He trust his partner not to 
cheat. Tumari game of trust."

"Stupid game."

"You are barbarian. You have no honor."

"So, why are you even trying?"

"You are man. You are dragonraidah. I see you before, I know you 
have courage. You have potential, if you look beyond your anger."

"Gee, thanks."

"You are...welcome. Come, we play. Between cast and catch, keep 
rhythm like so..."

***********************************

Lenna wasn't too thrilled by the prospect of B'rand being where he
was, but after he explained a little of what he was trying to do, she 
agreed. No one wanted a dead village. 

Now it was getting late, but time meant little to either man. B'rand 
continued to stare at Matteen, and Matteen continued to ignore
him, even when he sat directly before the tribal chief. Finally, 
their eyes met. They stared at each other for a long while. 

B'rand picked up the as'en; Qedhar had left the blades with him 
after they had tried throwing them a few times. The Gamal chief
had been amazed at B'rand's aptitude, but B'rand had explained 
his gift. Sometimes, he thought wryly, being a natural at dextrous
feats really came in handy. He wouldn't have had the patience to 
spend years learning like the nomads did from childhood. 

Matteen's eyes followed his movements, then back to his eyes. 
B'rand lifted the as'en ibefore him, and looked back. "What do you 
think, horse-boy?" he mumbled. "Care to play a game?"
__________________________________________

Tag to you, Lyn :)

Allen Veazey
wolf@dbtech.net
	
	"I'm not really bad, I'm just drawn that way."
			--Jessica Rabbit