“So am I,” Marak said. He heard that omi. He saw the decent respect give way to outright fear, which he had no wish to have in those close to him.

His father had wanted fear like that among his subordinates… fear, and worship. Tain had trusted no one who failed to be awed by him, but Tain’s son trusted no one who did fear him… that was his rule. He had never wanted to be worshiped, or to become the focus of dim-visioned men who wanted to be governed by fear. He had been an outright fool to go after his father alone, knowing the quality of the men who surrounded Tain and fed him with their worship, men in whose eyes Kaptai’s murder had to be justified, because everything Tain did had to be justified. He had been a fool to go by his father’s rules, in his father’s territory. He knew that now. He was lucky to have fallen in with the Rhonandin instead of his father’s men, because it never would have been a fair fight. “I shouldn’t have gone after him,” he said to Tofi. “But I lived through it. Tain got away, and good riddance. It was a damned waste. His whole life is a damned waste. So are the men with him.”

“It’s not good for you to kill your father,” Tofi ventured to say to him. “It’s not good for you, omi, no matter what your father’s done. You can’t. Don’t go back there again.”

He could have taken offense at Tofi’s meddling in his private business. But Tofi’s was the courage and truth and constancy to a course that he saw Tain’s teaching had never given him: Kaptai had, if anyone. “I don’t plan to try again,” he said to Tofi. “Be glad we’re not farther back in the line. It’s hell back there. Good luck if we don’t lose half the caravan, if they don’t just walk off the trail on a cloudy night. And there’s nothing we can do about it if it happens. That’s the hell of it.” He looked out to the edges of the column, past the shield the Haga tribesmen posed, riding on the edges of the column. Their way lay among low dunes, over hard ground, rises too shallow at their highest to hide a rider.

That was good. So was the Haga’s added protection for the Ila’s camp. He raked his memory, trying to remember how long this area lasted, or where they were on their journey. He had no idea how long he had lain on the litter.

“It’s only been two days I’ve been out,” he said.

“It’s been two days you were gone, before that, omi,” Tofi said.