“In no way is my tribe any threat against the future of yours. We ask only for land in which to plant our seed and to provide grazing for our sheep. Perhaps we may be lucky to find a bank of clay to give us the material we need for our potters’ craft. We are indifferent hunters —coming from a land where there is but little game. We have arts in our hands which might well serve others beside ourselves.”
“True, true.” Marphy nodded. “This desire for war with the stranger is our curse—perhaps the same one which was laid upon the Old Ones for their sins. But it will take greater than either of us to make a peace now —the war drums have sounded, the lances are ready—”
“And there, for once, you speak the full truth, oh, weaver of legends!”
It was the High Chief who came to the table. Laid aside were his feather helmet and cloak of office. In the guise of a simple warrior he could walk the camp unnoted.
“You forget this—a tribe which breeds not warriors to hold its lances will be swallowed up. The lion preys upon the bull—if it can escape the horns. The wolves run in packs to the kill. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten—that is the law upheld better than all other laws.”
Something hot rose in Fors’ throat and he snapped out an answer to that which was born of this new emotion.
“The paws of the Beast Things are against all of us— in just that manner, oh Captain of the Tents. And they are no lightly considered enemy. Lead your lances against them—if war you must!”
Surprise came first into Cantrul’s eyes and then the flush of anger stained his brown cheekbones. His hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his short sword. Fors’ hands remained on his knees. The scabbard at his belt was empty and he could not accept any challenge the Plainsman might offer.
“Our lances move when they will and where they will, stranger. If they wish to clean out a nest of mud-hut-dwelling vermin—”
Arskane made no move, but his one unswollen eye calmly measured the High Chief with a control Fors admired. Cantrul wanted an answer—preferably a hot one. When it did not come he turned to Fors with a harsh question.