Pete nodded. "I am."
"I see. Your father tells me of certain agreements made many years ago. He tells me of relationships, and of your possible adoption into another clan. These things are true?"
Again Pete nodded. "These things are true."
The old man considered him for a few seconds.
"Among the men of the hills," he said, "the simple word of a man may be accepted. For only a clanless one would think of speaking other than the truth. But I am told the men of the low countries have no such faith. They require writings, and the speech of many witnesses. This is also true?"
The question was obviously rhetorical. Pete smiled ruefully, but said nothing.
The Korental allowed his lips to curl in a half smile.
"These customs of the plainsmen are not unknown to me," he said. "Men of my clan have gone to the low country and have dealt with the men of the cities. Even now, members of the Kor-en live in the cities. But on the clan days, they return to their home, here in the hills." He looked down at the matting on the floor.
"Your father mentions a clan book," he continued. "Do you have this with you?"
Pete looked at him, then at his father. His expression was suddenly blank.