Branl rode as if he were one with Naybahn; as if their disparate strengths had merged. His flat gaze was fixed on Covenant. “You spoke of mortality, and of being humbled.”

“Oh, that.” Covenant dismissed the subject. Jarred mercilessly in his seat, he found speech difficult. “I was just thinking.”

He wanted to tell Branl that he needed water. But before he could frame a request, the Haruchai observed, “Yet with every word and deed, ur-Lord, you demonstrate that you comprehend neither the Masters nor the Humbled.”

Oh, good, Covenant sighed. Just what we need. Clearly there was something nagging at Branl and Clyme; something at which they had taken umbrage.

Past the thickness of his tongue, he mumbled, “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You don’t like the way I forced you to let Linden heal you. You don’t approve.”

Branl nodded. “Nor do we approve of your forbearance toward Linden Avery, when all of her actions conduce to ruin. You do not ask humility of us. You inflict humiliation.

“We are Haruchai. The distinction has been made plain to us. In earlier incarnations, you did not seek to diminish us. Since your return to life, you have done so repeatedly.”

Don’t you think, Covenant wanted to retort, there could be more than one reason why I act this way? Have you considered that maybe you’ve changed as much as I have? But he was too thirsty to welcome an argument. Soon he would be too hungry.

Stifling sarcasm, he said, “Then explain it to me. If you think I don’t understand, give me some help.”

Perhaps the justifications of the Humbled would distract him until the Ranyhyn found water.

Branl nodded. “I will speak only of imposed healing,” he began. “It is bootless to belabor slights long past recall.

“Ur-Lord, we are the Humbled. By skill and long combat, we have won the honor of embodying the refusal of our people to countenance humiliation. That we live and die does not humble us. It demands neither humility nor humiliation because we make no compromise with failure. We do what we can, and we accept the outcome. If our strength and skill do not suffice, we are content to bear the cost in pain and death. Indeed, the cost of our efforts provides the substance of our lives, and by our contentment we confirm our worth.

“When you demand that we endure Linden Avery’s healing, you deny our acceptance. You proclaim us unworthy of our lives.”

“Hell and blood,” Covenant growled under his breath. Haven’t you realized yet that everything isn’t about you? But he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his irritation to himself.