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He gave the man a quick run-down of the rules; Petro nodded acceptance. What of your faiths? he asked, when
Kevin had finished. Are there things we must or must not be adoing? Is there Church about?
Kevin caught the flash of a gold cross at the man s throat. Well, hey no wonder he said Church like it was
poison. A fellow Christer not like those damn Ehleen priests. This was a simple one-barred cross, not the Ehleen
two-barred. Live and let be was a Christer s motto a godly man converts by example, not words nor force which
might well be why there were so few of them. Kevin and his family were one of only three Christer families in town, and
Christer traders weren t that common, either. Nothing much, he replied. King Robert, he didn t go in for religion last
I heard. So, what s your business here?
We live, what else? Petro answered matter-of-factly. We have livestock for trading. Horses, mules,
donkeys also metal-work.
Don t know as I care for that last, Kevin said dubiously, scratching his sweaty beard.
Na, na, not iron-work, the trader protested. Light metals. Copper, brass ornament, mostly. A few kettles, pans.
Now that sounds a bit more like! Tell you you got conshos, harness-studs, that kinda thing? You willin to work
a swap for shoein ?
The shoes, not the shoeing. Our beasts prefer the hands they know.
Done. Kevin grinned. He was good enough at tools or weaponwork, but had no talent at ornament, and knew it.
He could make good use of a stock of pretty bits for harnesses and the like. Only one frippery could he make, and that
was more by accident than anything else. And since these people were fellow Christers and he was short a
peace-offering He usually had one in his apron pocket; he felt around among the horseshoe nails until his hand
encountered a shape that wasn t a nail, and pulled it out.
Here, missy he said apologetically. Little somethin fer scarin you.
The girl took the cross made of flawed horseshoe nails into strong, supple fingers, with a flash of -delight in her
expressive eyes.
Hah! A generous apology! Petro grinned. And you cannot know how well comes the fit.
How so?
It is said of my people, when the Christ was to be killed, His enemies meant to silence Him lest He rouse His
followers against them. The evil ones made four nails the fourth for His heart. But one of the Rom was there, and
stole the fourth nail. So God blessed us in gratitude to awander wherever we would.
Well, hey. Kevin returned the grin, and a thought occurred to him. Ehrik was getting about the right size to learn
riding. Say, you got any ponies, maybe a liddle horse gettin on an gentle? I m lookin for somethin like that for
m boy.
The jippo regarded him thoughtfully. I think, perhaps yes.
Then you just may see me later on when I -finish this.
Chali skipped to keep up with the wiry man as they headed down the dusty street toward the tsera of their
k u m p a n i a . T h e t o w n , o f g r a y
w o o d - a n d - s t o n e -buildings enclosed inside its shaggy log palisade depressed her
and made her feel trapped she was glad to be heading out to where the kumpania had made their camp. Her eyes
were flashing at Petro with the only laughter she could show. You did not tell him the rest of the tale, Elder Brother,
she mindspoke. The part that tells how the good God then granted us the right to steal whatever we needed to live.
There is such a thing as telling more truth than a man wishes to hear, Petro replied. Especially to Gaje.
Huh. But not all Gaje. I have heard a different tale from you every time we come to a new holding. You tell us to
always tell the whole of the truth to the Horseclans folk, no matter how bitter.
They are not Gaje. They are not o phral, either, but they are not Gaje. I do not know what they are, but one does
not lie to them.
But why the rule? We have not seen Horseclans since before I can remember, she objected.
They are like the Wind they call upon they go where they will. But they have the dook. So it is wise to be
prepared for meeting them at all times.
I would like to see them, one day.
He regarded her out of the corner of his eye. If I am still rom baro, you will be hidden if we meet them. If I am not, I
hope you will be wise and hide yourself. They have dook, I tell you and I am not certain that I wish them to know
that we also have it.
She nodded, thoughtfully. The Rom had not survived this long by giving away secrets. Do you think my dook is
greater than theirs? Or that they would seek me out if they knew of it?
It could be. I know they value such gifts greatly. I am not minded to have you stolen from us for the sake of the
children you could bear to one of them.
She clasped her hands behind her, eyes looking downward at the dusty, trampled grass as they passed through
the open town gate. This was the first time Petro had ever said anything indicating that he thought her a woman and
not a child. Most of the kumpania, including Petro s wife Sara and their boy Tibo, treated her as an odd mixture of
child and phuri dai. Granted, she was tiny; perhaps the same injury that had taken her voice had kept her small. But
she was nearly sixteen winters and still they reacted to her body as to that of a child s, and to her mind as to that of a
drabarni of sixty. As she frowned a little, she pondered Petro s words, and concluded they were wise. Very wise.
That the Rom possessed draban was not a thing to be bandied about. That her own dook was as strong as it was
should rightly be kept secret as well.
Yes, rom baro, I will do as you advise, she replied.
Although he did not mindspeak her in return, she knew he had heard everything she had told him perfectly well.
She had so much draban that any human and most beasts could hear her when she chose. Petro could hear and
understand her perfectly, for though his mindspeech was not as strong as hers, he would have heard her even had he
been mind-deaf.
That he had no strong dook was not unusual; among the Rom, since the Evil Days, it was the women that tended to
have more draban than the men. That was one reason why females had come to enjoy all the freedoms of a man since
that time when his wife could make a man feel every blow, he tended to be less inclined to beat her . . . when his own
eyes burned with every tear his daughter shed, he was less inclined to sell her into a marriage with someone she feared
or hated.
And when she could blast you with her own pain, she tended to be safe from rape.
As she skipped along beside Petro on the worn ruts that led out of the palisade gate and away from town, she was
vaguely aware of every mind about her. She and everyone else in the kumpania had known for a very long time that
her dook was growing stronger every year, perhaps to compensate for her muteness. Even the herd-guard horses,
those wise old mares, had been impressed, and it took a great deal to impress them!
Petro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck -absently, and she could read his surface thoughts easily. That was an
evil day, when ill-luck led us to the settlement of the Chosen. A day that ended with poor Chali senseless her
brother dead, and Chali s parents captured and burned as witches. And every other able-bodied, weapons-handy
member of the kumpania either wounded or too busy making sure the rest got away alive to avenge the fallen.
She winced as guilt flooded him as always.
You gave your eye to save me, Elder Brother. That was more than enough.
I could have done more. I could have sent -others with your mama and papa. I could have taken -everyone
away from that sty of pigs, that nest of I will not call them Chosen of God. Chosen of o Beng perhaps
And o Beng claims his own, Elder Brother. Are we not o phral? We have more patience than all the Gaje in the
world. We will see the day when o Beng takes them. Chali was as certain of that as she was of the sun overhead and
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