"My motives are clear enough."

"Are they? I know you want Lynan to be king of Grenda Lear. But why should you risk the whole of the Chett nation on such an unlikely horse? The Oceans of Grass are practically inviolate."

"They weren't once. You are too young to remember the Slaver War."

"You've banded together since then. The mercenaries aren't a threat to your people."

"You underestimate the ability of the mercenary captains to learn and adapt just as we have."

Jenrosa nodded, conceding the point. "But this is about more than Rendle and his ilk, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is about you and your crown.""I cannot pretended that Lynan has not made my position among my people more secure."

"But it isn't enough, is it?"

"Not for the Chetts. Ever since we came under the sway of the throne of Grenda Lear over a hundred years ago, we have paid obeisance to distant monarchs. It has cost us nothing. Now it may cost us a great deal."

"Because you support Lynan?"

"Of course, but there are other factors. If Grenda Lear is unstable, then Haxus may try and bring us under its influence, and its king sits much closer to our territory. Or what if Hume secedes from the kingdom? Where can they expand? Not south into Chandra-Kendra would never allow that. North into Haxus? No, they are too small, and would fall to Haxus instead. They can only expand west, into the Oceans of Grass."

"But why push Lynan to be king?"

"Because I know that Hume is pushing the throne for increased trade benefits. Now that Areava needs all the support she can get, she is likely to give way to those demands."

"What has that to do with Lynan?"

"Hume can only increase its trade two ways. The first is at the expense of those trading rights given to its greatest rival, Chandra. Areava won't do that because she also needs King Tomar's support."

"What's the second way?"

"Areava can give Hume control over the Algonka Pass, the only link between the east and west of this continent for most of its length. As far as anyone in the east is concerned, ownership of the pass would give Hume symbolic control over the Oceans of Grass."

And suddenly Jenrosa understood. "But King Lynan would support you against Hume."

Korigan nodded. "We don't want possession of the pass. We want it to remain a free caravan route, belonging to no king or queen. That way trade continues to flourish between east and west."

"For someone isolated in the Oceans of Grass, you have a very good grasp of kingdom politics."

"Don't make Kumul's mistake of thinking we are nothing but nomad barbarians."

Jenrosa opened her mouth to object, but Korigan held up her hand to stop her. "You know it is true. I can see it in everything Kumul says, in the way he looks at me and other Chetts. Most in the east look down on us as being little more than herders and horse warriors and potential slaves; Kumul may be more generous than that, but we are still barbarians to him.

"We may not have great cities or palaces, Jenrosa, but that does not mean we are stupid and ignorant."

"No. No it does not."

"I see you have some influence with Kumul."

Jenrosa looked up sharply. "Meaning?"

"You and Kumul are more than friends."

"Have you been spying on me?" Jenrosa demanded.

Korigan smiled ruefully. "You are in my kingdom now, Jenrosa Alucar. Nothinghappens here without my knowing about it. But I did not spy on you. Your relationship with Kumul of the Red Shields is common knowledge among my people. Although I cannot say if Lynan is aware of it, I think not."

"It is none of your business."

"In and of itself, no. But I am concerned what effect it might have on Lynan if he learns that you and Kumul are in love with each other."

Jenrosa blushed, making her sandy hair stand out even more than it usually did among the Chetts. "Who said anything about love?"

"I will speak of it if you won't. I don't think Lynan is in love with you, but am I right in suggesting he once thought he was in love with you?"

"That's something you should ask him."

"But I'm asking you."

"Perhaps he once thought that."

"The fact that he may no longer think that will not stop him being jealous of Kumul.

Losing love is one thing, but losing it to another is a hard blow."

"I can't change the way Kumul and I have ... grown ... to feel about each other."

"Will you tell Lynan, then?"

Jenrosa moved away from Korigan. "I told you, this is no one else's business."

"I wish it were so," Korigan called after her, but Jenrosa did not answer.

Away from the lake village, real winter had hold. Cattle huddled together, their heads bowed against the cold southerlies. A band of ten mounted Chetts huddled in the lee of a shallow hill wishing they were back in their huts or around one of the hundreds of campfires. They were from different clans and did not talk to each other. Kumul stayed apart from them, seemingly impervious to the weather.

"You have no armor to speak of," he was saying to them. "What you call spears are nothing more than javelins. Your horses are well trained but don't ride well close together. You're not cavalry."

Some of the Chetts looked defiantly at him.

"I repeat, you are not cavalry." Kumul bit the words out. "You see that single arrow tree three hundred paces north?"

The Chetts looked over their shoulders. One or two nodded.

"Take your mounts there and back here."

"Is that all?" one of the Chetts asked.

"Keep them to a walk."

Six minutes later the group were back, still cold. Their mounts looked even less happy.

"Now do it again, at a fast walk."

A little less than six minutes later they were back again.

While the Chetts looked as miserable as ever, and even more confused, the horses seemed more aware of the world around them.

"Now do the distance at a trot. When you get back, do it at a canter, then a gallop."By the time they had finished the three runs, both mounts and riders were warmer; the exercise had also piqued their interest.

"Again," Kumul told them. "At a fast walk. Line abreast, and no more than three paces between each of you."

This time, Kumul watched them carefully. He had never seen anyone sit on a horse more naturally than a Chett, and the bond between a Chett and his mare seemed almost telepathic to him, but Chetts rode together with less discipline and grace.

"You had trouble keeping the distance close," he told them when they got back.

"It got crowded," one of the Chetts said.

"Get used to it. This time keep the same distance, but move at a trot."

The result was even more disorganized. Kumul made them do it at a fast walk again, and this time the mares and riders managed to reach the arrow tree in something like a dressed line. He then told them to do it at the canter. A mess.

"Now again, but slow to a trot."

Better, and by now the Chetts were getting the idea behind the changing pace and constant distance. Their mounts were getting used to working close to other horses.

"Let's try it at a gallop!" one of the Chetts said excitedly.

"Not yet," Kumul said firmly. "That's enough for the day."

"But we're just getting started!" the same Chett complained.

Kumul could not help grinning at them. He liked their enthusiasm. He knew they would need it in the days and weeks to come.

"I said that was enough for the day. Back here tomorrow, same time."

The Chetts nodded and drifted away.

"Now the saber is an interesting weapon," Ager said, "and useful from the back of a horse. But when you're on foot, there are better weapons."

The group of Chetts gathered before him watched and listened with keen interest. As with Kumul's group, they were from more than one clan. News of the crookback's victory over Katan had spread like a grass fire, and they wanted to learn how he did it. They were also curious about what was inside the sack he was carrying.

"But Chetts do not fight on foot," one of them said.

"Not yet," Ager said under his breath, then out loud: "The lessons you learn from me will be useful if you fight standing, riding, crouching, or crawling." He pointed to the Chett who had spoken. "What's your name?"

"Orlma."

"Come here, Orlma."

The Chett looked nervously at his fellows but did as asked. Ager dropped his sack and pulled out two wooden swords, one shaped like a saber and the other shorter and broader in comparison.

"The short sword," Ager said, and the Chetts heard something like reverence in his voice.

"This is heavier than any saber I've ever used," Orlma said, hefting the dummyweapon.

"And by the time I've finished training all of you, your own sabers will feel as light as a feather. Attack me."

The Chett grinned. "I will not make the same mistake that Katan made, Captain Crookback."

"Glad to hear it. Now attack me."

Orlma moved forward cautiously, his saber held slightly above waist level, its tip raised slightly. He expected his opponent to retreat before his longer reach, but instead Ager waited with what seemed like boredom. '"Get on with it, will you?"

The Chett scowled and raised the saber above his head to slash down, but before he could do anything more he felt the hard tip of Ager's weapon punch him in the chest and he fell back on his rump. He could not believe the one-eyed crook-back, who usually moved with evident difficulty and lack of grace, could move so fast.

"Again!" Ager ordered. The Chett scrambled to his feet, held out his saber again, and waited to see if Ager would advance. He did. Seeing his chance, Orlma turned his wrist and swept the saber inward, aiming for the crookback's stomach. Ager retreated half a step, letting the saber whistle past, then lunged, catching his opponent on the chest again.

"I will figure out how you do that," Orlma said, picking himself off the ground for a second time.

"No need," Ager told him. "I'll tell you. Stand as you were before."

The Chett did so. Ager stood within striking distance of him. "Could either of us miss at this distance?" he asked the other Chetts. They all shook their head. "Slowly, start your attack," he told his opponent. Orlma swung his arm back, and Ager simply jabbed forward so the point of the short sword rested over the Chett's heart.

"My enemy has to make two moves with his saber to strike me," Ager told his audience. "I only have to make one. This is the advantage of a stabbing weapon over a slashing weapon."

"But when you beat Katan, you were using a saber," one of the Chetts pointed out.

"That's because I know how to fight on foot, and Katan doesn't. If you only have a saber or cutlass, keep your movements as small as possible. It's not necessary to cut off your enemy's head to kill him. Severing an artery will do the job as well, and almost as quickly. More importantly, it isn't necessary to kill your enemies to win a battle; you can put them out of action and kill them later. Draw your sabers." Ager inspected three of the swords. "Just as I thought. You whet them on the same plane."

"It is the only way to make them properly sharp," Orlma said.

Ager drew his own saber and invited Orlma to feel its edge.

"It is rough."

Ager pulled a short branch from his sack and laid it over two rocks. "Cut it with your saber," he told Orlma.

The Chett swung as high as possible and slashed down. His blade sank deep into the branch. He tugged and pulled at the weapon to free it, then held up the branch to show the others how deep he had cut. "If that was an enemy's body, it would have sliced through his kidneys!" he boasted.

Ager grinned. "How true. Put it back."

Ager now slashed down with his own saber. The blade did not cut nearly as deep, but itcame out of the wood without effort and the cut it left behind was wide and jagged. He held up the branch. "If this had been an enemy's body, it would have destroyed more than his kidneys. A wound like this cannot be repaired, and my saber comes out easily."

There was an astonished murmur from his audience.

"I want you to go now and make a wooden saber and a wooden short sword for yourselves. Have them done by tomorrow, and we'll start your training."