Orkid studied him carefully. Prado had been a wretched creature when he first came to the palace-malnourished, bruised, and cut-but now he looked every bit a warrior, lean and strong despite his middle age. On hearing of the council's decision, the mercenary had immediately gone out and bought a new set of breeches, jerkin, boots, and gloves, and a fine Chandran sword and knife, all on credit. If anyone could find and slay Lynan, he could, Orkid thought.

"Soon. The queen should sign your warrant today, and I already have your promissory note from the treasury. You have enough to hire a small army for a period of several months. I hope it is enough, for you shall get no more."

"It will be enough," Prado said with arrogant confidence.

"I will bring you two heads in repayment: Prince Lynan's and Rendle's."

"One head will be enough. Rendle's remains you can leave where you slay him."

"Oh, no. I have plans for that trophy."

Orkid grimaced. "Your mission is to kill Lynan. Achieve that at all costs."

"I will."

"And do not fail me."

"You?" Prado barked. "I thought I was serving your queen."

"Our queen," Orkid hissed. He stood right next to the mercenary. "And on this commission you answer to me. I will not brook failure."Prado's eyes hardened. "I will not fail, Chancellor, but I do not like being threatened."

"I promise you, Jes Prado, if you do fail me, I will have you hunted down like a crazed karak."

There was such menace in Orkid's voice and large, dominating figure that Prado retreated a step. He avoided the chancellor's gaze. "I've already told you: I will not fail."

Orkid nodded and moved to his desk and retrieved an official-looking parchment. He held it out to Prado. "Your promissory note."

"Good," Prado said, taking the parchment.

"Come back this evening for the warrant. By the way, it will have an extra clause the council does not know about, and which they must not know about."

"Extra clause?"

"You will be given the rank of general in the Grenda Lear army. It will give you the authority to commandeer regular troops on the border if you need them."

Prado gasped. "Me! A general in your army? This is a turnaround."

"Where will you go first?"

"To the Arran Valley. Many from my old company live there, and will form the core of my force. From there north, picking up groups where I can find them."

"Where will you base yourself?"

"On the border with Haxus, not far from the Algonka Pass. That way I can move in either direction, depending on which target presents itself first."

"When do you leave?"

"If I get the warrant tonight, first thing in the morning." He grinned up at the chancellor. "And the palace will be rid of me at last!"

"I will let the queen know," Orkid replied. "She will be so pleased."

Chapter 5.

As far as Kumul was concerned, one part of the Oceans of Grass looked much the same as the next. He had marched through parts of it during the Slaver War with the General's army and had never understood how their Chett guides knew where they were going. He knew north from south and east from west, sure enough, but where exactly in the north or south or east or west had always eluded him. Everywhere he looked tall grass, yellowing with autumn, covered the undulating landscape. Although there were creeks, there were no rivers or valleys and nothing taller than the occasional clump of spear trees. He knew the impression of absolute flatness was misleading, that you could reach the crest of one rise to find an army waiting for you on the other side, hidden by the gentlest of elevations, but he felt himself longing for some real geography-a wide river, a forest, a mountain or two-anything to break the monotony.

Ager rode up beside him. "This place takes some getting used to," the crookback said.

"I'll never get used to it," Kumul answered grumpily. "How do we know there is an end to it? We might ride until we are old men and not get to the other side of it."

"There are worse fates. The Oceans of Grass has a special beauty."Kumul looked at his friend with alarm. "All your wounds are softening your head.

There is no beauty here. It is ... I don't know ..."

"Unrelenting," Ager suggested.

"Yes, that's it."

"Lynan seems at home here."

"He is quarter Chett. Besides, he feels safe here."

"And you don't?"

Kumul grunted. "I won't feel safe until Lynan is reinstated in Kendra and I wear the constable's uniform again."

"Reinstated as what?" Ager asked after a moment.

"You've been thinking about the words we had with Korigan and Gudon last night?"

Ager nodded. "They made sense."

"Lynan is not the rightful heir to the throne of Grenda Lear, Ager. There is a moral and legal distinction between us helping him right the wrong of his outlawry and helping him usurp Queen Areava."

"Areava is his sworn enemy. He is the son of the hated commoner who replaced her beloved father as Usharna's husband and consort. She has never liked him. Reinstating Lynan in the palace will not make him secure."

"What do you mean?"

"He will still be seen as a threat by the Twenty Houses; probably even by Areava herself."

"We can deal with that."

"And don't forget, Areava may always have been in league with Orkid and Dejanus."

"I'll never believe it."

Ager leaned over to take Kumul's reins and pulled up. "And even if Areava wasn't part of the original conspiracy, she must be relying on Orkid and Dejanus now. She cannot have Lynan back."

Kumul tugged his reins free. "You don't know what you are saying, what it will mean for all of us."

"It might mean our salvation."

"We could be hanged as traitors."

"If we're caught, they're going to hang us as traitors anyway."

Kumul spurred his horse on so he did not have to listen.

"Or probably just cut our heads off as soon as we're captured!" the crookback shouted after him.

Damn! Ager thought angrily. That was about the worst way to go about convincing Kumul of anything.

Jenrosa came abreast of him. "What was all that about?"

"Policy discussion," Ager said offhandedly.

Jenrosa snorted. "You two have never disagreed before." She glared at him pugnaciously. Even the freckles on her face seemed to glare at him. All the sun she wasgetting riding on the plains was making her look more Chett than Kendran, except for her sandy hair which was starting to look as if it had been bleached.

Ager shrugged, smiled easily. "He doesn't like the Oceans of Grass. It's making him crabby."

For a moment they rode together in silence, then Jenrosa said, "It's more than that, isn't it?"

"Some," Ager admitted, unwilling to say more. Jenrosa was silent, but her presence demanded an answer. She was very good at getting what she wanted. "Don't worry about it. Eventually one of us will come around to the other's thinking. Well, I'll come around to his; that's how it usually works."

"It was about Lynan, wasn't it?" she persisted.

"When are our discussions about anything else? Where is he, by the way? I haven't seen him all morning."

"With Gudon, behind the riders."

"And with Korigan, too, I bet."

"No. She leads. You don't like her, do you?"

Ager thought about the question. "I don't dislike her, necessarily. I don't think Kumul likes her much."

"Kumul is like a father watching his only son being wooed by a woman he doesn't approve of."

Ager nodded. "I hadn't seen it like that, but you're right."

"Kumul told me about his confrontation with Lynan. He doesn't know whether to be angry or sad about Lynan standing against him."

"Last night was difficult for other reasons."

"He told me he and Korigan had argued."

"Did he tell you about what..." Ager's voice faded.

"What's wrong?"

Ager pointed toward the van of the column. Jenrosa looked and saw that the lead riders were galloping forward toward the nearest crest. She watched them reach the crest and then disappear over the other side. Other Chetts started joining them. The horizon was slightly hazy with dust.

"Rendle?" she asked.

Ager did not answer but dug his heels into his mount. Jenrosa did her best to keep up, but he was a better rider and pulled ahead. She watched him reach the crest and then suddenly pull up, his horse's hooves digging into the soil. A few seconds later she was by his side and looking down. Her breath caught in her throat.

Some five leagues away was the biggest herd of cattle she had ever seen. She had no idea how many beasts there were, but they seemed like a dark tide on the yellow and pale green plain.

Lynan and Gudon appeared by her side. Lynan's eyes widened despite the bright sun.

"It is bigger than I remember," Gudon said in a kind of hush. "Little master, this is the wealth of the White Wolf clan. My clan."

As well as the cattle, Jenrosa now could also make out what looked like two long trainsof small brightly colored insects, one on either side of the main mass of the herd. Soon she could see they were large tents carried on wide carts, each cart drawn by four or more horses. Single horses carried Chetts around and in and between the cattle, keeping them moving and together. There seemed to be almost as many Chetts as cattle.

"How large is your clan?" Jenrosa asked Gudon.

"One of the largest," he said proudly. "We have been riding with the Left Horn, Korigan's personal guard of one thousand warriors. There is also the Right Horn and the main group of five thousand warriors, the Head. Unless we are at war, the Head always stays with the herd, while the two horns take turns scouting ahead and to our flanks, usually many leagues distant from the main body."

"I don't understand, Gudon," Lynan said, his expression still showing his surprise. "I thought the Chetts lived in groups of a hundred or so. You told me so yourself on the journey to the Algonka Pass."

"We lived like that for centuries until the Slaver War. Korigan's father realized we had to unite to fight the incursions of raiders like Rendle and Prado. But before he could unite the clans, each clan itself had to unite. There were as many squabbles and rivalries between each clan's families as there were between the clans themselves. Now each clan moves and fights as a unit. It means they have to move a lot more, else the combined herd would destroy all the pasture, but it is worth it for the increased safety."

Ager was carefully observing the clan below. "It seems random at first, the way the clan moves," he said. "But I can see now how the outriders don't keep to the same station.

They are always moving, but always to another station." He looked over to Gudon. "This is very impressive. I don't think anyone in Grenda Lear realizes how organized the Chetts have become."

"They think us simple herders," Gudon agreed. "We prefer it that way."

"They're stopping," Lynan said.

The Chett outriders had closed in on the herd and slowly, like honey on a knife, it oozed to a halt. The carts carrying the tents then formed a corral enclosing all but a dozen of the largest beasts that were led away and pegged nearby.

"The bulls," Gudon explained.

"Why so many?"

"Trade. Our herd is a large and healthy one. Other clans will give a great deal to have one of our bulls, thinking they are the secret of our clan's success."

"And what is the secret of your clan's success?" Ager asked.

"Our queen," Gudon said simply.

"Look, there's Kumul," Jenrosa said. She had spotted him halfway down the slope.