LITMIR.BIZ

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The word ‘Atan’ appeared to be not only the name of the people, but some kind of title as well. Engessa was well over seven feet tall, and the room seemed to shrink as he entered. His age, probably because of his race, was indeterminate. He was lean and muscular, and his expression sternly unyielding. His face showed no evidence that he had ever smiled.

      Immediately upon his entrance into the room, he went directly to Mirtai, as if none of the rest of them were even in the room. He touched the fingertips of both hands to his steel-armoured chest and inclined his head to her. ‘Atana Mirtai,’ he greeted her respectfully.

      ‘Atan Engessa,’ she replied, duplicating his gesture of greeting. Then they spoke to each other at some length in the Tamul tongue.

      ‘What are they saying?’ Ehlana asked Oscagne, who had crossed to where they all stood.

      ‘It’s a ritual of greeting, your Majesty,’ Oscagne replied. ‘There are a great many formalities involved when Atans meet. The rituals help to hold down the bloodshed, I believe. At the moment, Engessa’s questioning Mirtai concerning her status as a child – the silver headband, you understand. It’s an indication that she hasn’t yet gone through the Rite of Passage.’ He stopped and listened for a moment as Mirtai spoke. ‘She’s explaining that she’s been separated from humans since childhood and hasn’t had the opportunity to participate in the ritual as yet.’

      ‘Separated from humans?’ Ehlana objected. ‘What does she think we are?’

      ‘Atans believe that they are the only humans in the world. I’m not sure exactly what they consider us to be.’ The ambassador blinked. ‘Has she really killed that many people?’ he asked with some surprise.

      ‘Ten?’ Sparhawk asked.

      ‘She said thirty-four.’

      ‘That’s impossible!’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘She’s been a member of my court for the past seven years. I’d have known if she’d killed anyone while she was in my service.’

      ‘Not if she did it at night, you wouldn’t, my Queen,’ Sparhawk disagreed. ‘She locks us in our rooms every night. She says that it’s for our own protection, but maybe it’s really so that she can go out looking for entertainment. Maybe we should change the procedure when we get home. Let’s start locking her up for the night instead of the other way around.’

      ‘She’ll just kick the door down, Sparhawk.’

      ‘That’s true, I suppose. We could always chain her to the wall at night I guess.’

      ‘Sparhawk!’ Ehlana exclaimed.

      ‘We can talk about it later. Here comes Fontan and General Engessa.’

      ‘Atan Engessa, Sparhawk,’ Oscagne corrected. ‘Engessa wouldn’t even recognise the title of general. He’s a warrior – an “Atan”. That’s all the title he seems to need. If you call him “General”, you’ll insult him, and that’s not a good idea.’

      Engessa had a deep, quiet voice, and he spoke the Elenic language haltingly and with an exotic accent. He carefully repeated each of their names when Fontan introduced them, obviously committing them to memory. He accepted Ehlana’s status without question, although the concept of a queen must have been alien to him. He recognised Sparhawk and the other knights as warriors, and respected them as such. The status of Patriarch Emban, Talen, Stragen and Baroness Melidere obviously baffled him. He greeted Kring, however, with the customary Peloi salute. ‘Atana Mirtai advises me that you seek marriage with her,’ he said.

      ‘That’s right,’ Kring replied a bit pugnaciously. ‘Have you any objections?’

      ‘That depends. How many have you killed?’

      ‘More than I can conveniently count.’

      ‘That could mean two things. Either you have slain many, or you have a poor head for figures.’

      ‘I can count past two hundred,’ Kring declared.

      ‘A respectable number. You are Domi among your people?’

      ‘I am.’

      ‘Who cut your head?’ Engessa pointed at the scars on Kring’s scalp and face.

      ‘A friend. We were discussing each others’ qualifications for leadership.’

      ‘Why did you let him cut you?’

      ‘I was busy. I had my sabre in his belly at the time, and I was probing around for various things inside him.’

      ‘Your scars are honourable then. I respect them. Was he a good friend?’

      Kring nodded. ‘The best. We were like brothers.’

      ‘You spared him the inconvenience of growing old.’

      ‘I did that, all right. He never got a day older.’

      ‘I take no exception to your suit of Atana Mirtai,’ Engessa told him. ‘She is a child with no family. As the first adult Atan she has met, it is my responsibility to serve as her father. Have you an Oma?’

      ‘Sparhawk serves as my Oma.’

      ‘Send him to me, and he and I will discuss the matter. May I call you friend, Domi?’

      ‘I would be honoured, Atan. May I also call you friend?’

      ‘I also would be honoured, friend Kring. Hopefully, your Oma and I will be able to arrange the day when you and Atana Mirtai will be branded.’

      ‘May God speed the day, friend Engessa.’

      ‘I feel as if I’ve just witnessed something from the dark ages,’ Kalten whispered to Sparhawk. ‘What do you think would have happened if they’d taken a dislike to each other?’

      ‘It probably would have been messy.’

      ‘When do you want to leave, Ehlana, Queen of Elenia?’ Engessa asked.

      Ehlana looked at her friends questioningly. ‘Tomorrow?’ she suggested.

      ‘You should not ask, Ehlana-Queen,’ Engessa reprimanded her firmly. ‘Command. If any object, have Sparhawk-Champion kill them.’

      ‘We’ve been trying to cut back on that, Atan Engessa,’ she said. ‘It’s always so hard on the carpeting.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I knew there was a reason. Tomorrow then?’

      ‘Tomorrow, Engessa.’

      ‘I will await you at first light, Ehlana-Queen.’ And he turned on his heel and marched from the room.

      ‘Abrupt sort of fellow, isn’t he?’ Stragen noted.

      ‘He doesn’t waste any words,’ Tynian agreed.

      ‘A word with you, Sparhawk?’ Kring said.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘You will serve as my Oma, won’t you?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Don’t pledge too many horses.’ Kring frowned. ‘What did he mean when he was talking about branding?’

      Sparhawk suddenly remembered. ‘It’s an Atan wedding custom. During the ceremony the happy couple is branded. Each wears the mark of the other.’

       ‘Branded?’

      ‘So I understand.’

      ‘What if a couple doesn’t get along?’

      ‘I imagine they cross out the brand.’

      ‘How do you cross out a brand?’

      ‘Probably with a hot iron. Are you still bent on marriage, Kring?’

      ‘Find out where the brand goes, Sparhawk. I’ll know better once I have

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