Marok growled. “The code calls for a blood answer when an outsider kills one of us, regardless of the circumstances.”

“An outsider,” Varg growled. “He is gadara.”

Marok stopped to eye Varg thoughtfully. In a much quieter, quite calm voice, he muttered, “That might work. If we can make it stick.”

Tavi took his cue from Marok and lowered his voice as well. “Varg. If Lararl had done what I did, what would be the proper reply?”

Varg growled. “My people on his range? Simple defense of his territory. They would be in the wrong, not Lararl. Though I would consider it clumsy and wasteful, under the circumstances, since Lararl could quite likely have rendered them helpless without killing either of them.”

Tavi grimaced. “That wasn’t what I wanted. There were only two of us. Each of us was trying to dispose of his opponent so that he could help the other. I would much rather have had them alive and answering questions about who sent them.”

Marok grunted. He looked at Varg. “You believe him?”

“Gadara, Marok.”

The old Cane tilted his head slightly to the side in acknowledgment. “Khral’s pack of scavengers are going to raise a whirlwind of howls if you give one of the demons status as a member of the people. Naming him gadara is a warrior concern, and your rightful prerogative. Establishing a demon as one of our people under the codes is another matter entirely.”

Varg growled. “Without this demon, there would be no people for the codes to guide.”

“A fact that does not escape me,” Marok replied. “But it does not alter the codes.”

“Then there must be a blood answer,” Varg said.

“Yes.”

Varg flicked his ears in thoughtful agreement and turned to Tavi. “Would you be willing to trade two Aleran lives for those you took?”

“Never,” Tavi said quietly.

Marok made a rumble of approval in his chest.

“The poor dead fools,” Varg growled. “This was a blade well sunk. Give Khral credit for that much.”

“Blood,” Tavi said abruptly.

The two Canim eyed him.

“What if I pay a blood price for the two dead makers? Their weight of blood?”

Marok narrowed his eyes again. “Interesting.”

Varg grunted. “A Cane has twice the weight in blood of an Aleran, gadara. We could bleed you to a husk, and you would have paid back only a quarter.”

“What if it were done slowly?” Tavi replied. “A little at a time? And the blood entrusted to, say, Master Marok here, to use for the protection and benefit of the families of the two dead makers?”

“Interesting,” Marok said again.

Varg mused for a moment. “I can think of nothing in the codes to hold against it.”

“Nothing in the codes,” Marok said. “But it sets a dangerous precedent. Others might use it to kill as well and escape the consequences in this fashion.”