Free Exile's Children by Angus Wells Page A

through the gate,” Racharran said, “then they might well come down through our own mountains. And then it must surely be of great concern to us.”
    â€œWe should prepare for war,” said Yazte.
    Rannach felt a thrill: was Colun’s description of these strangeling invaders told true, then they should surely be far finer enemies than even the Tachyn. He felt his blood run swifter along his veins: there would be glory to be won in such fighting.
    â€œI think,” he heard Juh say, “that it is early to speak of war. The Maker set us Matawaye down here in Ket-Ta-Witko because this is our land: the place we belong. The Maker ringed the land with the holy mountains that we not be threatened, neither threaten those other folk who live in the places beyond. I wonder if we do not question the Maker’s wisdom when we assume the gates may be breached.”
    He turned to Hazhe for confirmation; the Aparhaso wakanisha nodded his agreement.
    Tahdase said, “Juh speaks wisely. Surely the Maker will protect us, and not allow this horde passage through the hills.”
    â€œThey slew the Whaztaye!” Colun said, rising to his feet. “In the Maker’s name, I tell you I saw them!” He raised his bandaged hand; slapped it against his thigh. “I got these wounds off them! They are not like any folk I have seen—they fight like demons, and they came over the lands of the Whaztaye like fire across the plains.”
    â€œBut, like fire, were halted,” said Tahdase. “Against the mountains.”
    â€œFor now.” Colun ducked his head, returning to the ground. “For now.”
    Yazte asked, “You think they’ll come through?”
    â€œThat should be a hard-fought passage,” Colun declared. “Do theyattempt our ways, we Grannach shall fight them down all the tunnels; down all the caverns. But we are not so many, and they are like a locust swarm. Do they attain the high passes …”
    â€œSurely none can,” said Juh. An arm still corded for all it was thinned by age thrust up to indicate the encircling hills. “Men cannot breathe up there. Thus the Maker decreed.”
    â€œMen cannot,” said Colun, “but I am not sure these creatures are men like you and me.”
    â€œYou slew them, no?” Chakthi asked; and when Colun nodded: “Then surely they are men.”
    Colun made a helpless gesture and said, “Perhaps some. But you would as easily stem a prairie fire with flapping hands.” He looked around the circle, staring fiercely from under overhanging brows. “I tell you, they are a
horde
; a terrible flood. And you had best prepare.”
    â€œDo you?” asked Chakthi.
    â€œYes!” Colun nodded vigorously. “My Grannach are ready to seal the secret ways with rock and magic. Our manufactories are turned to blades and shields and arrows; to spear points and armor. Oh, yes, we prepare.”
    â€œThen,” Chakthi said, “we’ve both the Maker’s wards and your strength to defend us; and so Ket-Ta-Witko is likely safe.”
    â€œThese are our friends!” Racharran cried. “Shall we leave the Grannach to fight alone? To fight our battles for us?”
    Rannach was proud of his father at that moment, disgusted with Chakthi’s response.
    â€œIt is not our battle yet,” the Tachyn said. “Does this horde move against the Grannach, then I’ll give them my support. Does this horde look to enter Ket-Ta-Witko, then I’ll bring my warriors to battle. But that time is not yet come! I say we trust in the Maker—these invaders shall not pass through the sacred hills. I say that Juh and Tahdase speak wisely when they tell us to trust in the Maker. I say we take no decision now, but wait.”
    Rannach saw Yazte’s hand rise angry, halted by Racharran’s gesture. His father said, “Wait? Wait for what? This horde to come? Or Colun’s