"Jon—can you communicate with other tribes of Wild Ones? Call them hither for a general conclave?"
The bearded outlander nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. I think so. It will not be easy. Our tribes are scattered and far-flung, nor is there great unity amongst us, but—yes. It can be done. It will take many days and nights, though."
"How about you, Mother Maatha? Can you summon Women of other Clans to a grand council at Fautnox?"
"I can, O Wise One. The Mother Mairlee of Lextun is my sworn sister; we made the Pilgrimage together. The Tensee Clans owe us a debt of honor since we aided them in defending their mountain stronghold, Ashful, against an attacking horde of Wild Ones as many snows ago as I have fingers. These will surely come at my call, as will the Clina and Yana Clans, and I will bid them bring all others they can persuade. But this will take time, O Dwain. The way is long and the roads bad."
Von Rath coughed gently.
"If I might make a suggestion, Leutnant—?"
"Yes?"
"Since we plot to overthrow ein herrenvolk, would it not be well to learn more about those whom we plan to attack? These Daans are a mystery to us—"
"Absolutely right!" agreed Steve. "And that's how I had planned to spend the weeks that must intervene before our forces can be drawn together. Mother, where lies the nearest Daan encampment?"
"To the north of Fautnox," said the Mother promptly, "two days walking. In a city of the Ancients called Sinnaty, where once dwelt a mighty Clan known as the Reds."