The Savage Mountains

V

Glumly, the nahkhahrah watched the last of the Gahrbehdyuhn Tribe depart his village, the ponies at a stiff trot, headed due south. As his assembled host had melted away, even as the accursed Undying Devil and his army had pressed farther and farther into the mountains, the temper of this chief of chiefs had worsened to the point where few men were now reckless enough to stray within easy reach of his fist or his ready raider’s knife, especially when delivering bad news—and there was little news, these days, which was not bad.

The nahkhahrah could cheerfully have strangled each and every man of the departing tribe, but he immediately ruffled when a voice from close behind him said mockingly, “Soon my Maidens will be the only warriors in this dungheap village of yours, my valiant ally. This is the third tribe which has lost its courage and turned tail since the Undying Devil entered the mountains, is it not? Two tribes fled north and this one goes south. Where is the over-vaunted valor if its fierce Ahrmehnee? Or is that valor as much myth as are the tales you use to keep your womenfolk in bondage? Eh?”

Bristling, the nahkhahrah spun about to face his tormentor, knobby hand gripping the hilt of his big, heavy knife, worn, yellow teeth bared in a snarl of rage.

The brahbehrnuh did not twitch a muscle at his obvious threat. Though the two Maidens behind her tensed and fingered their hilts, she stood with her trousered legs spread wide, her arms akimbo. One of her attendants carried the brahbehrnuh’s gold-plated helm, and the tall woman’s glossy, black hair fell untrammeled, framing a strikingly handsome face. The full lips showed the even, white teeth in a mocking sneer, while the woman’s ebon eyes glittered forth contempt.

There were no Ahrmehnee warriors anywhere close by, and the nahkhahrah, though unquestionably brave, was not reckless. Grudgingly, he released his knife, growling. “Now, by Our Lady’s Cusps, woman, I would Her emissaries had left you and your arrogant, unnatural breed in your hold! Had I mine own way—”

“But you do not!” snapped the brahbehrnuh, coldly. “Her dread Curse lies upon her or him who first breaks our alliance. Were it not so, I and mine would long since be back where we belong. Aye, and those of your poor, downtrodden women we could free with us!”

Pale and speechless with rage, the nahkhahrah brusquely pushed past the brahbehrnuh and her guards, limped into the council house and loudly slammed the thick door behind him, shooting the bolt for good measure. Stumping to his place, he simply sat, cracking his big knuckles, his scarred face working. And seeing the bloodlust shining from his eyes, no one of the nine dehrehbehee remaining asked any questions of him.

From the moment of entry into the village of the brahbehrnuh and her hundreds of armed, armored and supercilious female warriors, there had been tension of one sort or another. Obviously, the People-of-Powers had expected the tension to lessen and so had all felt free to leave on their mission to the Muhkohee tribes, but it had worsened, if anything. For one thing, burgeoning familiarity with the Maidens had virtually dissolved the semi-superstitious awe of them which many Ahrmehnee had had; for another, the blatant attempts of many of the Maidens to foment trouble between the nahkhahrah’s tribesmen and their womenfolk or to seduce nubile maids and matrons into perverted sexual practices—which practices seemed to be endemic amongst the strutting, man—despising Maidens—had set all the Ahrmehnee warriors’ teeth on edge and had caused the nahkhahrah ceaseless difficulties in preventing outright massacre of the vastly outnumbered “allies.”

Early on, he had attempted to reason with the brahbehrnuh, had tried to persuade her to draw rein on her crudely antagonistic following, pointing out that unless she did so the only certain result would be the spilling of blood and that, considering the fact that she and hers were hundreds amidst thousands, a serious session in arms between Ahrmehnee and Maidens could end in but one way. It had been wasted breath and effort. The sow had heard him out, then insulted him, all the dehrehbehee and their Sacred Ancestors, obscenely; further, she had offered disparaging comments on all Ahrmehnee warriors, then on men in general. Then she had stalked from the council house, a mocking laugh floating behind her.

And the foul situation had worsened and worsened to the point at which the Council had had to actually execute three tribesmen who had drawn steel, in order to show the host that they were serious about maintaining the now shaky alliance. The nahkhahrah had taken to praying earnestly each night at moonrise that the People-of-Powers would soon return so that the projected invasion could get under way while he still could exercise a measure of control over his men.

Then, piling one mountain atop another, had come word that a great army, led by the Undying Devil called Meelohsh, was marching up the trade road, through the lands of the Frainyuhns, and he had bidden Dehrehbeh Hyk Frainyuhn and his tribesmen goodspeed and even reinforced them … with the worst of the troublemakers camped about.

But no plan or scheme of the unlucky young dehrehbeh had gone aright. Five times had he and his warriors set out to ambush the van of the invaders, five times had they been discovered, attacked and driven off with losses. The fifth failure had cost the life of Hyk himself, and the Frainyuhns had, predictably, withdrawn to their principal village to choose a new dehrehbeh, since the deceased had no living brothers old enough to lead.

So the nahkhahrah had sent out men to watch over the now unobstructed progress of the invading army, bidding them to keep much distance from the lowlanders, to flee if attacked and fight only if cornered. His orders had not been taken well by the Ahrmehnee, but out of respect for him they had voiced their disagreements out of his hearing.

Not so the Maidens, however. The insolent chits took to laughing at the old man whenever he rode at large, scornfully mocking his every word or gesture, frequently instigated and often led by the haughty brahbehrnuh.

But the nahkhahrah had suffered the criticism in silence, for he knew that his way was the right one. He was a very old man, far older than his appearance suggested. He had been chosen nahkhahrah when his aged father was slain fighting the lowlanders who had driven the Thirteen Tribes from the foothills and, a hundred and thirty moons later, he had led the Great Raid which had ended so disastrously at Bloody Ford.

He knew the fierce bravery of Ahrmehnee warriors and, much as he now hated the Maidens, he suspected that they might possibly be equally fine fighters. But his eyes had beheld thousands of valiant, stubborn Ahrmehnee cut down like ripe grain by the hosts of the Undying Devil. He knew that this present army slightly outnumbered his available forces. He knew that even in his own mountains victory over the invaders might well be a narrow, chancy business, and so he husbanded his fighters, seeing clearly that utter folly of frittering away irreplaceable strength in pointless harassment.

Next had come the refugees, trickling in first from the north, then from the south. At that point his control began to crumble away. Deep in his heart, he could not really blame the dehrehbehee and their tribesmen, for, had the situation been reversed, had he been a mere dehrehbeh with the sure knowledge that lowland raiders were ravaging Taishyuhn lands, he too would probably have led out his tribesmen to avenge former and prevent future inroads.

Nonetheless, with each departing tribe, his self-esteem eroded a bit more as he realized that his ability to stop the invading army became more questionable.

In sheer frustration, he beat his big fists against his muscular thighs. The cursed brahbehrnuh might well be right about her warriors and those of the Taishyuhns soon being the only fighters left here. But he vowed to himself, ere that happened, he would do something. If he could not stop the lowlanders here, he would at least dispose of the cursed Maidens. Maybe those tribes still with him could even fight or bluff their way into Maiden Valley and hold it against the Undying Devil.

None of the abashed dehrehbehee felt constrained to speak in the presence of the raging leader of their stahn, and in the silence of the familiar Council House, the nahkhahrah was able to muse on his problems undisturbed for some time. Then, as he had known it would, came an insistent pounding on the bolted door. From the sound, he imagined a sword pommel was being used on the polished hardwood.

Raising his chin from his chest, he calmly ordered, “Let the bitch in ere she splits the door. Or”—he smiled, the first smile any had seen light his seamed face in many a day—“has a tantrum and pisses her breeks.”

In the blessed release from their long tension, the dehrehbehee all roared then laughter while one of their number pulled back the bolt and the brahbehrnuh swaggered into the dim, smoky room, trailed by her two guards, as ever.

Halting at the edge of their circle, she hissed at the council members, “You dare to laugh at the brahbehrnuh of Our Lady’s Maidens?”

The smile instantly departed the nahkhahrah’s countenance and his voice crackled coldly, like river ice. “We are the men who lead the Thirteen Tribes of the Ahrmehnee Stahn. We sit in council in our own council house and here we weep or shout or whisper or laugh whenever and as we please, asking leave of no man and, certainly, of no woman.”

The brahbehrnuh stamped her foot petulantly. “I am your ally; it is the will of Her that I am your ally, and you have no right to deny me access to your councils. How do you expect me to hear what you dirty men are hatching when the door is barred against my entry?”

The nahkhahrah nodded slowly, the lamps making the shadows of his big-nosed, craggy face resemble the physiognomy of a bird of prey. “Yes, you are an ally, and only because it is Her will. But though it has been used as such in times past, this is not a true warhouse, it is the house of council for the business of the Thirteen Tribes of the Ahrmehnee. As you have obviously learned, its walls and door are thick and it has no windows for the very purpose of preventing spying and eavesdropping by curious busybodies and—”

But the armored woman burst out in interruption. “Busybody? Why you antique, tuskless boarhog, how dare you!”

His hours of meditation and other mental exercises had purged the nahkhahrah of anger, nor could her discourtesies and insults inflame him anew. “—and any others who would pry into matters which concern them not. I and my dehrehbehee and warriors are not of your valley or customs, so you have no right to know what is in our minds or of what matters we converse in privacy.

“Now, begone, child. Remain in your camp until I summon you, for I must journey with Our Lady this night.” On his last words, he arose and pointed a long finger at the still open door.

A hot retort was on the brahbehrnuh’s lips, but it never emerged. For all at once, the nahkhahrah’s eyes locked with her own and the tall old man became even taller, larger, huger than any man had a right to be. It seemed this his white-haired head was truly brushing the sooty skull-bedecked rafters high above, that the width of his shoulders strained against the side walls of the council house. And the brahbehrnuh whirled and almost ran from the place now resounding with the contrabasso booming of the giant’s voice.

With the rising of moon, the staccato voices of the doombehgs sounded from within the council house with, now and again, the lost-soul wailing of the reed-flutes rising above. Solid ranks of Ahrmehnee warriors—grim-faced and purposeful, firmly grasping their spears, darts and bared raider knives-barred any approach to the building. Those Maidens sent by the brahbehrnuh to inquire were told only that the nahkhahrah was in communion with the Holy Goddess and that, should their leader’s presence be required, she would be summoned. No amount of insulting harassment or imperious demands could elicit the women any further information, and those few who sought to force a way through the ranks were either faced with a hedge of sharp and ready steel or hurled back to sprawl before the determined men.

All the brahbehrnuh’s emissaries returned with bruised pride, some with bruised flesh as well, and at least one with a bloody nose. Hot words were ‘screeched in the tent of the brahbehrnuh, the other Maiden leaders all being for arming and hacking a gory path through the insolent pigs who denied them their way. No one of them had ever before been denied anything by a mere man, nor had any man ever laid hand to them without being made to suffer for the outrage. But the brahbehrnuh, too, denied them.

Inside the council house, the noise was deafening. The air was thick and close with the heat of many braziers and with the pungent smoke of the herbs and gums regularly heaped upon the coals. Except for the braziers, all furniture had been removed, and the nahkhahrah and the dehrehbehee squatted in a circle in the center of the main room, while the drummers and other musicians crouched along the walls.

Though all had, of course, heard of it, only the older men had ever before been present when their chief of chiefs communed with the Lady. Despite their total nudity, those in the circle all were sweating heavily and quaffing deeply of the brimming bowls of barley beer. They had all fasted until an hour before moonrise, when each had consumed as much of the foul-tasting Holy Herb as he could force down.

None of them now were aware of the dozen warriors who silently glided to and fro, keeping the braziers fed and heaped, seeing that the beer bowls remained full and trimming the lampwicks.

As Moon rose higher and higher in the clear, cold sky, the drums roared on and on, the flutes keened and shrilled and the smoke roiled and billowed about the rapt circle.

At a signal from the nahkhahrah, someone outside placed before him a large silver bowl, its rim all chased with mystical and holy signs. Placing it beneath him, he urinated into it, then passed it to Dehrehbeh Neeshahn Soormehlyuhn on his left, who solemnly added the contents of his own bladder to the bowl, then handed the container to the dehrehbeh at his own left hand.

When all the circle had voided their water into the bowl, the nahkhahrah placed it before him on the floor, dipped out a half of a smaller bowlful and added an equal quantity of beer, then raised the smaller bowl to his lips and drained it off. Thrice more he did this, ere, a half-hour later, he slid from his place in the circle, and extended his body full-length upon the floor.

He closed his heavy lids.

“Once again, my faithful and ever-obedient son travels my way with me. Welcome and thrice welcome, Kohg Taishyuhn. What would you of Her who loves you?”

As he recalled from before, the unbearably sweet voice was all about the nahkhahrah, all about him and within him. And he opened his eyes to once more behold the unearthly beauty and splendor of the Lady. All of silver, She was. A soft and misty silver She glowed before and about him.

Then She no longer was all-encompassing, but—again, as before—a creature no taller than himself. A lissome, silver-haired, woman-shaped goddess, She was become.

She opened her slender arms to him and he entered into Her embrace and he found Her silver-hued flesh cool and pleasing to the touch and the scent of Her was redolent of Moon-washed hills thick-grown with wild thyme. Their lips met, locked, and Her kiss was cold fire, consuming all his being, leaving nought behind save the aroused and stiffening ardor of his loins.

And when he had worshiped in the manner She desired, when his loins had freely poured out a measure of their most precious offering, then did the two arise from the billowy, silver couch and stroll, hand in hand, across the springy, silver-bladed turf, to where a silver fountain plashed misty silver water. They sat down on the cool stone verge of the basin—all white marble, veined with the Holy Silver.

She spoke. “Dearest Kohg, the future of your people can be far brighter than you and other mortals now believe. Once more will I allow you to spy out those places and people and events which will shape the good and the ill.

“I need not instruct you, for you have done this before. Observe the past; see or be one with the present, as you desire; then descry the futures which lie ahead and choose the one you think best for your people … our people.

“When, at last, you are done, return to me and I will again send you home.

“Go you, now, loved lover.”

Beneath his hurtling body, the night-cloaked mountains rushed by. The nahkhahrah saw twinkling lights ahead, swooped lower and recognized his village and the jagged sprawl of camps surrounding it. He swept on, eastward, over the range which lay between the village and the wind-scoured, flinty waste of the Great Plateau. He blinked in amazement when he saw the huge stone-and-timber fort now rising above the icy plain. It had been reported to him, naturally, by his scouts, but they had failed to impress him with the awesome size and strength of the defenses. Even without wishing a glimpse of the possible outcome, he dismissed all thoughts of hurling his Ahrmehnee against those stout, well-manned walls.

Veering to his left, he plunged northward. Only a few days’ ride from his village, thousands of lowland cavalry slumbered in and around a deserted village. A day behind them, wild creatures scuttled about a battlefield, crouching upon stiff Ahrmehnee corpses and gorging themselves on cold human flesh. And farther north lay horror upon horror of burned villages; the dead—or what the ravenous scavengers had left of them—lay thickly sown and living folk huddled, shivering, in the inhospitable mountains.

Turning about, the nahkhahrah bore to the south. Here, the camped lowlanders were not in one place, but in many, widely scattered. Behind them, forty miles wide, lay a swath of death amid ashes and ruin. The carnage had been fearsome here, and the destruction far more total than that to the north.

“He who wrought this,” the nahkhahrah thought, “must be truly a monster of the Ancient Evil.”

“Monsters of the Ancient Evil are assuredly abroad in these mountains.” Her voice once more enveloped him. “But he who despoiled these, your folk, is not one of them, dear Kohg.”

Recalling his plan to seize the Valley of the Maidens, the nahkhahrah bore about to the northwestward and, presently, he was gliding above the battlemented hills and ridges into a bank of noisome mist. From under the mist shone an eerie, roseate glow. The glow was strongest near the center of the largest vale, and he swept toward it. The air in the valley was warm, almost hot, and as he approached the source of that rosy radiance, the heat increased manyfold.

Something warned him to not come any closer to his objective, so he dove through the mist just shy of a huge fissure in the rocks. It belched forth a steady column of smoke and stench which brought tears to the eyes and acute discomfort to the skin. Waves of unbearable heat bartered at him, and he blinked himself away. The clear menace of that fissure sent a shudder coursing through him.

Rising swiftly, he blinked the future, six moons ahead, and saw a scene of utter desolation. Tumbled rocks surrounded a wide bowl of bubbling, smoking almost-liquid. Nowhere was there any sign of a living creature.

“But… but, Lady? How? Why?” he begged silently.

And he felt himself whisked back to the present. Out of the yawning mouth of the entry cavern filed a long line of pack animals. Some bore strange devices strapped upon their backs, others, panniers which he could sense contained gold and silver, tons of the precious metals. The train was guided by strange-looking men and women in stranger garments. At its head rode three he recognized: the People-of-Powers. And though they spoke in a language he knew he had never heard, he could understand them.

“You’re dead certain the charges will do what we planned?” queried Dr. Erica Arenstein anxiously. “Those that the gas didnt kill, those who only got a whiff of it, are going to be rather angry when they waken and find they’ve been robbed.”

The Ahrmehnee-looking man who rode on her left snorted derisively. “Scant need of fear from that quarter, my dear Erica. Every last horse in their herd is presently roaming about these mountains, if not still running.”

“Don’t be suicidally cocksure, Dr. Corbett,” the woman admonished him. “They are a stubborn race. If need be, they’ll track us on foot, and unless we can get better speed out of these damned mules than we got in bringing them north, we’ll be run down within a day’s ride of here.”

“Not to worry, honey,” assured the other Ahrmehnee, him to whom she had first spoken, now riding a bit behind as the trail had become too narrow for three abreast. He glanced at an odd bracelet on his left wrist, then stated, “The tunnel will be sealed in thirty-two minutes, and before any of them—or many of them, at least—can climb up through those caverns and go down the walls, the main charges will blow. But by that time, well have that mountain yonder between us and the volcano. I calculate that the charges I planted will be just enough to trigger a full-scale eruption.”

The woman, whom the nahkhahrah had known as Sahrah Sahrohyuhn, threw back her head and laughed merrily … and the nahkhahrah thought that never had he heard a more chilling sound.

“There, Kohg Taishyuhn, ride those you would term ‘monsters.’”

“But … but, Lady, they are of You. They possess Powers.”

“Poor mortal Kohg, you have been deceived. Those are not of Me. They are of a cankering sore upon the face of the troubled land. They and their kind honor not Gods but, rather, an abstraction they call ‘Science.’ Long, long ago, when untold millions of the races of man had forsaken the Gods to grovel at the altars of Science, the monstrous creations of that false god almost swept the lands clean of human life. Your people know of this through the tales of ‘The War of the Earth-Gods’ and ‘The Great Catastrophe,’ Kohg.

“Few men survived the holocaust. Even today, the lands are peopled by but a bare shadow of the numbers on whom I once shed My rays. These Ancient Monsters move and breathe only through an unspeakable perversion of the Laws of Nature. And—their future objective is nothing less than the enslavement of all other living creatures. Not many recognize the menace they present, Kohg, and one who does is him they would have had you make war upon, him you call ‘Undying Devil,’ him who calls himself, ‘Milo Morai, High Lord of the Confederation.’ “

“But, the Devil is my enemy,” protested the nahkhahrah. “He drove my people from our rich lands, drove us into these mountains, and now have his folk soaked the earth with Ahrmehnee blood yet again. He is Your enemy, as well, Lady. He worships Your enemy, Sun.”

The Voice remained cool and soothing in and about him. “He is not My enemy. Dear Kohg, I am all true Gods. I but appear to men in the guise they venerate and expect. To you, I am Moon Goddess, to Milo, am I God of Sun and Wind; some call That which is Me Steel or Rain; in the north I am worshiped as Blue Lady; even farther north, in the Black lands, men call upon Me as Ahlah.

“Nor is Milo your enemy, Kohg. For even as all Gods are but Me, the encompassing One, so too are all men of all races brothers, could you poor mortals but see Truth. Milo attacked your people and seized their lands principally to shorten his border and so protect his people from your raiders. It is his aim to once more unite the lands and races upon this continent—not as slaves beneath his heel, such as would those whom you overheard, but as free, happy and prosperous folk.

“Does this man—for, man he is; mortal man born of woman, for all that some name him ‘god’—succeed, does he choose the proper combination of alternatives, as little as seven thousand moons may see this land once again as great and mighty as it was twelve thousand moons agone.

“This Milo is only your enemy because first your forefathers, then you, have made him such. If you and your folk choose to freely join with his Confederation, you will be welcomed and heaped with honors. If you choose to fight on I can see no future for the Ahrmehnee, save as scattered, homeless, wandering remnants of a race. But it is you who must now choose, Kohg.”

The nahkhahrah blinked the future and found it just as the Lady had stated; small family groups of Ahrmehnee, thin and ragged, barely existing in caves and makeshift tents, while being hunted like beasts by the Muhkohee, who had taken over Ahrmehnee valleys and rebuilt the war-shattered villages. He did not stay, for this possible future was too terrible to long contemplate.

And again he went soaring over the moon-bathed mountains, north and east this time. Just beyond his own village, he came to ground. Unseen, he passed between the guards and entered the tent of the brahbehrnuh, finding the young woman alone. Slowly, before her frightened and wondering eyes, he blinked his form visible.

“Listen to me, child.” The brahbehrnuh could see his lips move, shape the words. Nonetheless, they seemed more within her head than upon her ears. “Your home is no more, nor your folk. Those whom we knew as People-of-Powers and of Our Lady were not; rather were they Monsters of the Great and Ancient Evil. They it was who slew your folk and despoiled your treasure, then destroyed your hold by means of the smoking fissure.

“Now, they bear their ill-gotten booty south and west upon the backs of many mules. There be but few of them, child, less than a hundred. Avenging the murders of one’s own folk is a Sacred Duty. At dawn you must arm your Maidens and ride. You will ride with Her blessing.”

The brahbehrnuh was not without real courage even in so eerie a situation as this, and she resolutely gathered that courage. “How … how came you here, without my guards? And how know you, who are only a man, of the Hoofprint of the Goddess’s Steed, that which you called ‘smoking fissure’?”

“Child, child, how can I make you understand? This night I am as one with Her, I ride with Her across the skies and can see all that She sees. It is only through Her powers that you look now upon my likeness, for my body actually lies yonder, within the council house.”

The brahbehrnuh shivered, despite herself. Then, “If you … if you are a … a part of Our Lady, I … will believe, will do all that you can say if … if … if you will tell me my name. Tell me my secret name, the name I chose when first I became bahbehrnuh, the name which not even my lover knows, the name I have silently whispered only to the Goddess at Her shrine.”

The nahkhahrah smiled gently. “It is a beautiful name, child. It was the name of my dear mother. It is Rahksahnah.”

All the blood drained from the brahbehrnuh’s face, her strong legs wobbled, and only her grasp upon the table kept her from falling. She tried to speak, but could only gasp and stutter. Then, finally, she found her voice, though it was as weak as her body.

“I believe. It shall be as you, as She commands. The Maidens will ride at dawn.”

The nahkhahrah briefly flickered out, then reappeared to add, “Pass wide of what was your home, Rahksahnah. The entrance now is sealed. To scale the heights and climb the walls would only be to die. And you must not die, for, ere you see my village again, you will find him who will make of you a true woman, give you a future of happiness and ease and children.

“I sense rebellion in your heart, child. Expel it. Yon must realize that the old ways of the Maidens are dead this night, dead and buried as the land which spawned you all will soon be. You must forget the past and accept the newness of the future, if you are to survive.

“Now I must leave you, for there is still much I must do ere the Lady complete Her journey.”

Again the nahkhahrah swooped east. Over the range to the Great Plateau, then high over the expanse of sere grasses and frozen, rocky soil to the newly raised ramparts—raw earth and green logs and ancient blocks of stone. Unseen, he stood upon the wallwalk while an officer made his rounds. The block of granite beside the nahkhahrah once had been polished and engraved and it still bore ancient letters: NAL BANK OF.

He blinked. He saw the whole of the building of which the stone had once been a part, saw the other buildings about it, saw the odd folk who walked and talked and laughed and ate and loved, saw their black roads striped with yellow and white. He saw the folk conveyed upon their roads in large and small magical wagons, which made fearsome noises and trailed smoke behind. He saw thousands of bright lights, of every conceivable color, shining boldly or flickering in and out of fantastical designs.

He blinked. He saw the buildings and the roads again, but gone were the folk, gone too were the lights., Few were the wagons and they obviously had lost their magic, for they sat smashed and torn and rusting upon the cracked, weed-springing roads. The buildings, also, were dirt-streaked, many were sagging, and their windows gaped like the eyesockets of the skulls in the council-house rafters.

He blinked. He saw the broken block, now forming a merlon atop the battlement of the lowlanders’ fort. He and his folk had pastured goats and cattle on this plateau time out of mind without ever suspecting that a city of the Earth-Gods lay beneath their feet.

“You have not much longer, My love. Hurry, Kohg, for soon I must send you back.”

Milo awakened all in a breath, his hand immediately seeking the familiar hilt of his pillow-sword. At the foot of his couch stood a tall old man, devoid of any clothing. The face, though seamed and wind-darkened, still was handsome and the unbowed, muscular body bore the scars of a warrior. A single glance at the set of the intelligent eyes and the big nose, hooked like a hawk’s beak, told the High Lord the man’s race.

“Ahrmehnee!” he breathed. “How the devil did you get in here, old man? What do you want? If you’ve come to slay me …”

The visitor shook his snowy mane. “I am aware that steel cannot harm you, Milo of Moral I am Kohg Taishyuhn, the nahkhahrah of the Thirteen Tribes of the Ahrmehnee. I am come to seek peace with you and a place for my people in your Confederation.”