She took a step toward Daiv. Meg cried out, moved between them, turned beseeching eyes to the Mother. "No! I beg of you, O Mother, no! Look upon Daiv! Look—and remember that which you saw, many winters ago, in the Place of the Gods! You know I speak the truth, Mother, and that Daiv, too, tells that which is so.
"Tell my sisters that this is well; that this is as it should be. You know—"
Jain, Captain of the Workers, shook her head sorrowfully. In a gentle voice she said, "Our priestess has gone mad, O Mother. The rigors of the pilgrimage have been too much for her. What is the law? Death for her, as well as for this hairless Man-thing? Or, having taken herself a Man, must she become a breeding-mother?"
But the Mother stayed her. There was a faraway look in her eyes; Meg knew that the aged leader of the Clan was remembering a pilgrimage made many, many years ago to the Place of the Gods. The Mother, Meg knew, had once looked upon the majestic figures of Jarg, Ibrim, Taamuz and Tedhi on their great, rocky promontory at Mount Rushmore and had seen, as Meg had seen, that the Gods were, in truth, Men like Daiv. A word from the Mother now....
The Mother spoke. There was infinite sadness in her voice.
"It is the Law," she said, "that none shall strive to change the ways of the Clan. You, Meg, have ignored the Law. You and your mate will be given justice."
And she turned away.
A gasp spun Meg's gaze to Daiv. His face was crimson with an anger-look; great veins throbbed in his forehead. He roared, "Here, then, is the joyous welcome your Clan offers us, Golden One! Justice? What kind of justice may we expect from a doddering, thwarted old harridan—"
"Daiv!" screamed Meg.
But her cry broke too late. With one swift gesture Daiv had wrenched the sword from the hands of Lora. Now he tested its blade, swept Meg into the circle of his arms, and laughed at the startled clanswomen defiantly.