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God. But I can call you Father to myself can t I? In Eriau they say rohadwann: affection, loyalty,
founded on respect and on my own honor.
Yes, I could better have spoken of burning out a cancer, he agreed. The breakdown of legitimate
authority into weakness or oppression whichare two aspects of the same thing, the change of Hands
into Heads is a late stage of the fatal disease. A human male would have tried to cuddle her and
murmur consolations for memories that to this day could knot her guts and blur her eyesight. Then he
would have gotten indignant if she didn t crawl into bed with him. Ydwyr continued challengingly: You
had the toughness to outlive your torment, at last to outwit the tormentors. Is not your duty to help those
of your race to freedomwho were denied your heritage?
She dropped her gaze. Her fingers twisted together. How? I mean, oh, you would overrunhumanity
wouldn t you?
I thought you had learned the worth of propaganda, he reproached her. Whatever the final result, you
will see no enormous change; centuries of effort lie ahead. And the goal is liberation of Merseians, yes,
we make no bleat about our primary objective being anything else but we welcome partners and our
endeavor is, ultimately, to imposeWill on blind Nature and Chance.
Junior partners, she added to herself. Wett, is that necessarily bad? She closed her eyes and saw a man
who bore Nicky Flandry s face (descendant, maybe) striding in the van of an army which followed the
Merseian Christ. He carried no exterior burden of venal superiors and bloodless colleagues, no interior
load of nasty little guilts and doubts and mockeries; in his hand was the gigantic simplicity of a war knife,
and he laughed as he strode. Beside him, she herself walked. Wind tossed her hair and roared in green
boughs. They would never leave each other.
Nicky dead why? These people didn t kill him; no, not even those back yonder who wanted to wring
him empty. They d have been his friends if they could. The Empire wouldn t let them.
She looked again and found Ydwyr waiting. Seeker, she said timidly, this is too sudden for me. I
mean, when Qanryf Morioch tells me I should, should, should become a spy for the Roidhunate
You desire my advice, he finished. You are always welcome to it.
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But how can I
He smiled. That will depend on circumstances, my dear. After training, you would be placed where it
was deemed you could be most useful. I am sure you realize the spectacular escapades of fiction are
simply fiction. The major part of your life would be unremarkable though I m sure, with your
qualifications, it would have a good share of glamour and luxury. For example, you might get a
strategically placed Terran official to make you his mistress or his actual wife. Only at widely spaced
intervals would you be in contact with your organization. The risks are less than those you habitually ran
before coming here; the material rewards are considerable. He grew grave. The real reward for you,
my almost-daughter, will be the service itself.And knowing that your name will be in the Secret Prayers
while the Vach Urdiolch endures.
You do think I should? she gulped.
Yes, he said. Those are less than half alive who have no purpose in life beyond themselves.
The intercom fluted. Ydwyr muttered annoyance and signaled it to shut up. It fluted twice more in rapid
succession. He tensed. Urgent call, he said, and switched on.
Cnif hu Vanden s image flicked into the screen. To the datholch, homage, he said hurriedly. He would
not have been interrupted save that this requires his immediate attention. We have received a messenger
from Seething Springs. Djana remembered hearing how fast a Ruad could travel when he had no family
or goods to encumber him.
Khr-r-r, they must be settling down there. Ydwyr s tailtip, peeking from beneath his robe, quivered,
the single sign he gave of agitation. What is their word?
He waits in the courtyard. Shall I give the datholch a direct line?
Do. Djana thought that a man would have asked for a briefing first.
Men had not the Merseian boldness.
She couldn t follow the conversation between Ydwyr and the lutrine being who stood in the snow
outside. The scientist used a vocalizer to speak the messenger s language. When he had blanked the
screen, he sat for a long period, scowling, tailtip flogging the floor.
Can I help? Djana finally ventured to ask. Or should I go?
Shwai Henoticed her. Khr-r-r. After pondering: No, I can tell you now. You will soon hear in any
case. She contained herself. A Merseian aristocrat did not jitter. But her pulse thumped.
A dispatch from the chief of that community, Ydwyr said. Puzzling:
theRuadrath aren t in the habit of using ambiguous phrases, and the courier refuses to supplement what
he has memorized. As nearly as I can discern, they have come on Dominic Flandry s frozen corpse.
Darkness crossed before her. Somehow she kept her feet.
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It has to be that, he went on, glowering at a wall. The description fits a human, and what other human
could it be? For some reason, instead of begetting wonder, this seems to have made them wary of
us as if their finding something we haven t told them about shows we may have designs on them. The
chief demands I come explain.
He shrugged. So be it. I would want to give the matter my personal attention regardless. The trouble
must be smoothed out, the effects on their society minimized; at the same time, observation of those
effects may teach us something new. I ll fly there tomorrow with Helooked at her in surprise. Why,
Djana, you weep.
I m sorry, she said into her hands. The tears were salt on her tongue.
I can t help it.
You knew he must be dead, the pure death to which you sent him.
Yes, but but Sheraised her face. Take me along, she begged.
Haadoch?No.Impossible. The Ruadrath would see you and
And what? She knelt before him and clutched at his
I want to say goodbye.And and give him what I can of a Christian burial. Don t you understand, lord?
He ll lie here alone forever.
Let me think. Ydwyr sat motionless and expressionless while she tried to control her sobbing. At last
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