“No, not likely,” Kethry repeated. “and you won’t dream it again unless you continue the pattern.”

“But if we do, we get the same dream over and over?” At Kethry’s nod, Daren grimaced. “Pretty effective way of getting someone to break the pattern.”

“Evidently the builders of this Tower thought so.” Kethry patted him on the shoulder in a very motherly fashion, turned and vanished back through the heavy wooden door leading to her workroom.

Daren sighed, and turned back to Kero. “Will it help to say that I’ve been a blockhead and I apologize?”

She considered him with her head tilted to one side for a moment. “Will it help to tell you I’ve been just as pigheaded as you?”

He smiled. “It’s a start.”

“Good,” she replied. “Let’s build on that.” Then she laughed, feeling a burden lifting from her mind. “Besides, I’d do a lot more than just apologize to avoid another two days like the past two!”

But Warrl was destined to have the last word, although he was nowhere in sight.

:It’s about time,: said a sardonic voice in her mind. Humans!:

If Daren wondered why she was choking on her porridge, trying not to laugh, he was too polite to ask.

Nine

Nine

Kero studied the sand-table, the terrain laid out in miniature, the tokens that stood for civilians, stock, fighting men and women. Bloodless warfare, she thought to herself. All the fighting reduced to numbers. Is that how generals see us?

Had it been a year since that quarrel with Daren? It must have been, since it was winter again. Tarma had gradually begun teaching them other things; strategy and supply, tactics and organization. Every daylight hour was spent in some kind of study; from their weapons’ practices to reading the fragmentary accounts of the wars of the ancients. Even their “leisure” hours usually had something to do with their studies.

“All right,” Tarma said, leaning over the sand-table. She indicated the tokens that represented the enemy forces, tokens she had just put in place. “There’re the opposing forces. What have you got, Daren?”

He studied his tokens, cupped in the palm of his hand, and placed them carefully in the sand. “Five companies of foot, one of horse, one of specialists. In country like that, the horse is useless.” He placed a token with a painted horse’s head on it behind the “lines.” “I need another company of foot and two of specialists if I’m going to hold you off. Mountain fighters, irregulars, if I can get them.”

“Which means you hire. Kero, what have you got for him to hire?” Tarma leaned over the table, resting her weight on her hands, and watched Kerowyn through narrowed eyes.