With the sun still relatively high in the sky, the walls were soon up, a layer of mortar bonding each to its fellow, until the walls were up to a height of four stones, each stone being roughly ten inches high, twenty inches wide and four inches deep. At last it was time for another meal break. His limbs singing a song of alternate elation and fatigue, Radulf climbed out of the hole with the others and sat cross-legged as the young women and girls brought them fruit and drinks.

Finally it was time to erect the roof timbers. Firstly, cross members shaped in a huge arc big enough to stretch from one wall to the opposite were set into holes in the walls where the stones had been cut for exactly that purpose. Six inches in diameter and carved roughly to a square shape, the timbers were extremely long and very heavy, and it took ten youths to lift one into position. While they rested, a second group brought the next strut and while they took their rest the first group took up the work and so on until twenty of the enormous girders had been set in place along the length of the building. Then further struts were hammered in position from the eastern end to the western end, along the forty-foot length, and secured with pegs driven through and into the cross-struts. The youths, Radulf included, began to swarm up to the apex of the roof timbers and to secure them with pegs through ready-drilled holes into the long cross-members. It occurred to Radulf that from the moment the youths had jumped down into the hole he had already started on, the work songs had not let up for an instant, except whilst they took refreshments.

At last, with the last roof timbers in position, the youths, some twenty of them, with Radulf at their side and feeling for the first time since arriving at Warikeewa camp as one of them, the giant fronds and cement were hauled up on ropes to make the renewable roof which would survive two or maybe even three winters.

With the sun fading in the western sky behind the mountains that betokened the start of Barbessel province, away in the distance, a day's ride from the camp, the building was complete and the youths clambered down into willing arms to be led away for more refreshments and celebrations. As the crowd cleared from the new building, just the four of them remained, Radulf, Makoma, Marcellus and Miki.

'The Warikeewa people thank you for your assistance in building this erection, Running Scared,' Makoma said courteously, and then he too wandered away back to his own hut.

'You did well today,' Marcellus said. 'Your father would have been proud of you.'

'How do you know that? You do not know my father.'

'I believe I may have known him.'

'Nevertheless, you cannot know that he would be proud of me for what I did today. He had not a kind word for the Warikeewa.....'

'He spoke to you of the Warikeewa?'

'On his death bed. I believe he would have passed away by now.'

'And the last time you spoke with him he laid blame for his condition on the bronzeskins?' Marcellus persisted.

'He said that his party was attacked at the border with Pekeesh.....'

'He said they were attacked specifically by bronzeskins?' Marcellus demanded.

'No, he did not say that specifically.'

'What exactly did he say?'

'That his party was attacked at the border with Pekeesh. That is all?'

'No one thought to ask him who it was that attacked his party? Were there any other survivors?'

'As far as I am aware, none. My father returned alone.'

'And you all assumed that he had been attacked by bronzeskins?'

'Who else would attack anyone at the border with Pekeesh?'

'Well, Radulf, it could be as you say. The attack could have been mounted by bronzeskins already ravaged with the Virensis.'

'That was my own supposition, reinforced by reports put abroad by Kestren that there had been skirmishes previously with bronzeskins at the border.'

'And it did not occur to you to ask for proof?'

'Who am I to ask for proof? My father returned from a sortie with his company, already dying from the Virensis, and all the evidence pointed towards the bronzeskins! I am just a pikesman in the Turbessel militia. It was not my place to question the veracity of statements made by the authorities who employed me.'

'It is the right of every free Barbesselian to question decisions that are taken on their behalf, in case they are taken wrongly. You had access to a councillor.'

'It did not occur to me that Kestren would be lying about this, especially since my father reported an attack at the border with the bronzeskin province.'

'You have seen for yourself how badly nourished and ill the bronzeskins are,' Marcellus said with a trace of sarcasm. 'You have seen how they would need to break through the border to look for new pastures. For there is so little food here and so little grass left for there cattle to graze on, and the earth you so recently dug for the foundations of the new communal hut is so poor that the crops will simply not grow. You have seen for yourself that one in three of the population is stricken with the Virensis disease.'

Radulf remained silent, and Marcellus could see that his colour had heightened. Seeing that he had nothing to say, he walked away, towards the hut of Kanchankikiwana. Miki, who had been standing back in the shadows, now came forward.

'You worked very hard today, you must be very tired.'

'Are you queueing up to congratulate me on my day's toils? I am no stranger to hard work.'

'I will get you some food.....'

'I have eaten.'

'.....and drink.....'

'I am not thirsty.'

'.....and then somewhere to lie down.'

'I am not tired.'

'Then we will walk around the camp, and talk, and you can tell me what life is like in the big city.'

'Why should I?'

'Because I ask it of you.'

'Were you thinking of going there, to make your living? The bronzeskins are not particularly welcome in Barbessel at this time.'

Miki lowered her head. Seeing that he had offended her, he hurriedly tried to redeem the situation.

'There are many bronzeskins working in Barbessel, and living there, in the docks, in the market places, of course you would be welcome there.....'

'I am not sure I want to go to Barbessel if everyone there is as surly as you are,' she said, still not raising her face.

'I did not mean to offend you.....'

'All you have done since you arrived in Warikeewa camp is to offend us!' she cried, at last meeting his eyes. 'You were brought into this camp by Angry Wolf, who is well respected and revered amongst our people. Had you not been with him you would by now be dead!'

'I am sorry.....' he began, but she was in full flight now.

'You are selfish, ungrateful, and badly-mannered! You abuse our hospitality and strut amongst us full of your own importance, believing that you are better than we. Because you come from a big city, accidentally born of a Barbesselian woman, you believe that makes you better than the Warikeewa, the Hunyapa, and all the plains tribes of Pekeesh Province! You are foul-mouthed, bad-tempered, and not worthy to lick the boots of Angry Wolf! All I have done since you arrived in the camp is to bring you food and drink, to try to be civil towards you, and still you are mean and surly, and I hate you!'

She turned and ran into the darkening night, but he ran after her, catching her by the arm, gently but firmly.

'I am sorry. I have behaved abominably towards you and to your people. I will apologise before the whole camp tomorrow. Let me apologise here and now to you.'

'I believe it is too late for that,' she said, crying, but he persisted.

'I was brought up in the city, where there is a natural feeling of superiority over the plains bronzeskins. That does not make it right, I know, but what I am trying to say is that it is not altogether my fault. We are taught from an early age that we are the dominant, most advanced race on Heraklion, and that other parts of Heraklion are populated by ignorant, unenlightened savages. I was too proud to admit that I was wrong, and I am severely chastened by my experiences here in Warikeewa camp. I am truly sorry.'

'Angry Wolf does not share this belief that we are ignorant savages,' she said through her tears.

''The situation with him is entirely different. He was brought to Warikeewa camp a prisoner and made to suffer severe hardships and indignities before he came to realise that.....'

'What?'

'That he is just a man, like the rest of the men in Warikeewa camp,' Radulf finished lamely. In the cover of the darkness, Miki wiped away her tears, satisfied that their manifestation had persuaded him to run after her. It was a worthy attribute, she thought, that she could cry almost spontaneously to turn a situation to her advantage. It seemed to her that Radulf was beginning to see the Warikeewa bronzeskins in a new light, and she was satisfied with her night's work. Tomorrow she would work some more on him. Again she turned away and started off towards her hut.

'I am sorry,' he called after her.

'Prove it tomorrow,' she said over her shoulder. 'Before the whole camp.' He nodded to himself and went to his own quarters, laying awake for some considerable time, going over and over in his mind how his life had been turned upside down and how it would progress from this point. He wondered if his father had finally passed away from the Virensis virus, and wished he could have been there for his dying, even though it had torn him apart, watching him suffer day after day as the wasting disease took its toll. Other than this feeling of guilt at having abandoned his family in their time of need, even though it had not been anything he could have avoided, having been kidnapped by the great Marcellus of Barbessel, he did not think he missed the city over much. Barbessel was fine, in itself, a great city, with enormous buildings, and rich, important citizens who took upon themselves the business of government. How different was life here in the great plains. He gazed out of the open doorway, marvelling at the fact that it was possible to sleep thus, in an open hut, without fear of thieves and murderers, and as his mind began to mull over the possibility that he actually preferred living in Warikeewa camp, he drifted off to sleep.

He was awakened by Miki bringing him more food and drink.

'What is the plan for today?' he asked. 'Are we to excavate a reservoir, or divert the river, or what?'

'There will be a council meeting later today. My father is not yet back. The decision will be taken whether to go and search for him.'

'Other than that? There are no further building projects to be undertaken?'

'There are always repairs to be effected. Today, however, I imagine you will join the hunt. My father should have brought back with him much food. There is little to eat other than fruit and vegetables. A hunting party will be formed, and I imagine you would be invited to join it if you so wished.'

'Just men?'

'Some women accompany the hunt to gut and skin the catch while it is still fresh, and to wrap ice cloth around it to keep it fresh until it is brought back to camp.'

'Ice coth?'

'Cotton sheets that have been kept in the ice house at the northern end of the camp. They will effectively chill the carcasses.'

'What will be the catch?'

'Washak. They are large, powerful and very fast. It needs a steady eye with a long bow, sometimes the youths run after them with their spears.'

'Will you accompany the hunting party?'

'Probably.'

'Who should I ask about accompanying such a party?'

'Angry Wolf. He will speak for you.'

'I will look for him directly I have finished this meal.'

'You have changed your philosophy overnight.'

'I was brought here against my will. It took me some time to adjust to my feelings about the matter.'

'And what are your feelings now? Where would you rather be, right now?'

He looked across to where she sat, cross-legged on the floor of the hut, just a thin tunic covering her upper body, and an equally thin piece of hide suspended through a belt and passing between her legs where it was again taken up and over the belt at the back to cover her. Her raven-black hair was tied in two braids, shining like silk.

'I think I am quite happy here for the time being,' he said.

'Then I am pleased we have made you welcome,' Miki said. Abruptly she stood up and walked to the open doorway. He leaped to his feet and chased after her, catching her gently by the wrist, as he had done the previous evening.

'Tell me if you will be accompanying the hunt,' he said, looking down into her dark brown eyes.

'I will be probably accompanying the hunt,' she said softly, and disengaged her wrist from his grasp. For a brief moment their lips were just an inch or so apart, then she turned and ran lightly from the hut and disappeared into the crowd of people going about their daily tasks. Radulf finished the meal she had brought him and went in search of Marcellus, pausing only to admire the new communal hut he had assisted in erecting the previous day. He found Marcellus in conference with Makoma.

'I seek permission to accompany the hunt,' he said. 'And I apologise for interrupting your conversation.'

'Surely you have that the wrong way round?' Makoma said. Radulf frowned.

'I do not understand.'

'It is customary to apologise first for interrupting another man's conversation, then to make your request. Ay! You city dwellers mystify me!'

Marcellus grinned.

'I apologise for interrupting your conversation, and I seek permission to join the hunt.'

'Can you use a long bow?'

Radulf drew himself up straight, as though he might still have been in the Hortaian militia.

'I am a pikesman and longbowman of the Turbesselian militia,' he said, looking straight ahead.

'Relax, Radulf,' Marcellus said, and he relaxed visibly. 'I can vouch for him, Makoma. The Turbessel pikesmen are masters of the longbow.'

'It is sufficient,' the old bronzeskin said. 'You may join the hunt. Is there something else you wish to say?' Again the younger man frowned, not knowing how the bronzeskin could have known such a thing.

'I wish to apologise for the way I have behaved since you welcomed me into Warikeewa camp.'

Makoma nodded sagely.

'Your behaviour was nothing less than we expected of you. Your mentor and countryman, Angry Wolf here, was similarly behaved when he first came here.'

'And with good reason,' Marcellus said with a grin.

'Your apology is accepted. It must be difficult for you, a city dweller, to come here amongst primitive savages and be expected to observe their customs, their rules,' Makoma said, and Radulf's head dropped in shame.

'I do not consider myself to be amongst primitive savages,' he said. 'I did think that, but living amongst you has shown me otherwise. I apologise most humbly.'

'A handsome apology, and received,' Makoma said. 'Go and prepare for the hunt.'

Radulf glanced across at Marcellus, who nodded, and he went off to look for Miki. There was a great deal of activity in the camp, far more than the previous day, when more than half of the population had joined in the building of the new communal long hut. Today there were groups of people around every hut, in every meeting place, gathering together their weapons and preparing their mounts for the hunt. It seemed to Radulf that by the time everybody who was going on the hunt had left the village there would be very few people left.

He eventually found Miki with Wanikiwana and Kanchankikiwana, and called her away to talk.

'I have been given permission to join the hunt,' he told her. Miki smiled.

'That is good. I heard that you made a handsome apology.'

Radulf nodded.

'I have behaved badly towards you, too.'

'It does not matter. I am only a girl.'

'Do not say that!'

'It is the truth. It is the men who make the decisions in Warikeewa camp. Women count for very little, except to make sure their men have food and drink, a place to sleep, and.....'

'It seemed different here,' Radulf said, interrupting her.

'Different to your city?'

'Different to the rest of Heraklion.'

'In what way? Do the men of your cities not use the women as slaves? That is what I have heard.'

'It happens.'

'And have you seen anything in our camp to persuade you that the women here fare better than the women in your cities?'

'Yes,' Radulf said.

'And you think we fare better?'

'I do. Had I the chance, I would not take you back to Barbessel with me.....' his voice trailed off as he realised what he had said. Again Miki laughed merrily. She took his hand and together they walked through the camp.

'We will need to get you a bow and some arrows,' she said. 'Come with me.'

She led him to the armoury, where there were longbows by the dozen, and piles of arrows, many used and refurbished, many new.

'Take one and test its strength,' she said, thinking to herself that his slight frame would be incapable of pulling taut a bowstring such as the one her father, the legendary Keewa used. Radulf sorted through the bows until he found one to his taste. Made from a dark, supple wood and carved intricately with mysterious icons, this one was equally as tall as he was, and he wondered briefly how he would manage to transport it during the trek. But it was the one he wanted. Too, he wondered if it belonged already to someone else, and asked this of Miki.

'It belongs to Kotsoteka. He is with my father at this time. You are free to use it. I decorated it myself.'

'What are the icons meant to represent?'

'I do not know. The designs came to me in a dream. I copied them onto a piece of cloth and when Kotsoteka made the longbow, I carved the designs onto it for him.'

'Is he your man?' Radulf asked, his back turned towards her. She smiled, although he could not know that she was smiling.

'I do not understand what you mean. Nun skende.'

'Are you and he.....'

'We are very close.'

'Ah.'

'But I am sure he would not mind you using his bow. Fit an arrow to it and see what you can hit. There are targets for you to aim at, see.'

He picked up an arrow and fitted it to the bow, then followed her out of the armoury into the bright sunlight. Set in the enclosure around the armoury hut were a number of stationary targets, bushes with leather-covered circles of wood fastened to them, each at varying distances from the line drawn on the floor to mark where the archer should stand. Radulf pulled back the taut bowstring and aimed for the nearest target. He did not, after all, wish to make a fool of himself in front of the young girl with his first shot. But it sped straight and true to the centre of the circle and, his confidence returned, he aimed for the furthest target with the second arrow which Miki had brought out, and again it hit the target dead centre. Miki clapped her hands in delight.

'Excellent! You will be a great asset to the hunt!'

'When do we leave?'

'After the council meeting, which will be taking place right now, to decide what is to be done about my father. And Kotsoteka.'

Kotsoteka! Again she spoke of Kotsoteka. Radulf grimaced to himself, wishing that Kotsoteka would never return to Warikeewa camp. He followed her through the camp to the council hut, where already had gathered a large number of people awaiting the outcome of the meeting. Eventually Marcellus and Makoma emerged, along with the elders of the Warikeewa and the handful of young men who made up the emergency council in the absence of the great chief, Keewa.

Makoma addressed the waiting crowd.

'It has been decided that two men, Crazy Bear and Spirit of the Mountains will go in search of Keewa's party. They are given two days in which to report back to us. If their report is not satisfactory, a further council meeting will be held and another party will be despatched to seek news of the chief. Those of you engaged in today's hunting party should now assemble. Bring your mounts, your bows and arrows.'

The crowd dispersed.

'Will someone find me a pony?' Radulf asked Miki.

'Come with me, you may borrow a pony from my father's stable.' They went back through the village, past the new communal hut towards the hut of the chief, Keewa. A low fence had been erected around the hut, and behind it stood a number of ponies, not tethered. Miki jumped lightly over the fence and walked into their midst, stroking their long noses and manes, speaking softly to them, soothing them as their heads went up and their eyes stared, sensing the presence of a stranger.

'Walk slowly to me,' she called, and he climbed easily over the fence. The ponies snorted and pawed the ground, but he was at ease with these animals, and they accepted him swiftly, and without question as he strode among them, patting their necks and speaking softly to them. Miki smiled, satisfied.

'Choose one,' she said. He had already singled out a piebald animal, with long legs and a darkish mane, the markings running in diagonal stripes from its neck to its belly.

'This one,' he said. 'His name?'

'Chakka.'

'Chakka! Chakka!' he whispered, and the animal's ears went up and he tossed his head, nudging Radulf hard on the chest with his nose.

'Chakka!' he said again. Standing next to Chakka, Radulf's head came barely to the animal's shoulder. His caressing of the beast became bolder and more intimate as they got used to each other's scent and demeanour. At last Radulf caught the animal's mane and vaulted quickly onto its back with a movement so quick and simple that even Miki could not help but be impressed.

'You are sure it is all right for me to have this mount?'

'Of course!'

'Your father would not mind?'

'Chakka does not belong to my father.'

'But he is kept with your father's ponies.'

'That is because he is mine.'

'Oh! I did not realise.....' Radulf lifted his leg over the pony's mane and made as if to dismount, but she laid a cool hand on his leg and shook her head.

'No, he is yours for the duration of the hunt. You had better get yourself to the assembly point. Here.' She passed him his chosen longbow and a handful of arrows. 'Be careful.'

'I am not worried. I will have you to watch out for me.....'

Again she shook her head.

'Not this time.'

'Why not?'

'I am not going with the hunting party.'

'But you said.....'

'I said that women and girls accompanied the hunt to treat the catch in readiness for bringing it back to the cold store. I said I would probably accompany the hunt. I did not say that I was definitely going this time. I am not going this time.'

There was a spark of mischief in her eyes, but he could not help but feel that she had done this deliberately. He frowned, and a degree of the old anger he had felt when he first arrived in Warikeewa camp returned, but only briefly. He gazed down at her, admiring her exquisite features and body, and shrugged his shoulders, not wishing her to think that he was at all fazed by her revelation. He reined in the pony and urged it gently forward, moving slowly to the gathering place in readiness for the hunt. Within a few minutes twenty men and youths mounted on ponies, and a further twenty women and young girls, mostly around the same age as Miki, had assembled and the order was given to move out.

It was still comparatively early, and the sun was still low in the sky. Also visible were the two moons of Heraklion, one appearing as large as the sun, and tinged with a faint red colour, the second much smaller, apparently much further away, and a dull steely grey colour. By midsun they had covered a fair distance, travelling directly east, below the southern border of the territory held by the Hunyapa.

A few minutes past midsun the herd of washak was spotted, away in the distance to the south, and they changed course accordingly.

'How many of the animals will we kill?' Radulf asked.

Warikeewappah shrugged his shoulders.

'Not a large number, I would have thought. Have you seen the size of those beasts? One washak will feed the entire tribe for several days. I doubt it will be necessary to bring back more than half a dozen.'

'Young ones?'

'For you and I and the citizens of Turbessel, I believe the answer to your question would be yes. But the Warikeewa, and indeed all of the plains bronzeskins tribes, have ways of cooking which make it perfectly acceptable to bring down the oldest and toughest of the beasts. Ask Miki when we return to Warikeewa camp. She will doubtless tell you the secret. I believe it is in the preparation, and the marinading.'

Radulf nodded.

'I have never seen a washak close up. What manner of animal is it?'

'It is a type of cattle. It is enormous, with a huge, deep chest and a large head, and very powerful hind quarters. Were you to stand next to a fully grown male, your head, the top of your head, would reach probably only to its shoulder, the bottom of its shoulder.'

Radulf drew breath. In the distance, they seemed just ordinary cattle. For the next hour they drew steadily nearer, until they were within a quarter of a mile of the herd, and the order was given to make camp. Within a further hour, the ponies had been tethered and tables erected, travois roped together in readiness for the catch. Now Radulf was able to see that the herd was one of several thousand washak. Had he not already been apprised of the size of the animals, from the proximity of the nearest members of the herd, he would have estimated their distance to be something in the region of half a mile to a mile, so enormous were they.

'What happens next?' he asked.

'Ten of the youngest and fittest men will walk slowly towards the herd,' Warikeewappah told him. 'They will each carry their bow and ten arrows. They walk slowly so that the outer members of the herd do not raise the alarm and cause a stampede. When they are within a hundred yards of the herd, they will kneel on one leg and very quickly fire their arrows in quick succession, bringing down, we hope, the animals that have strayed a few yards from the rest of the herd. As we are downwind of the herd today, hopefully the strategy will be successful.'

Warikiwappah, which in the language of the plains bronzeskins means Wind-of-the-Warikeewa, called the youths to him and selected ten, who put arrows to their longbows and started off towards the herd, walking ten feet apart and very slowly, in unison. Radulf, a little disappointed that he had not been chosen, but fully aware of the reason why, settled down to watch. There were a few members of the herd of washak some twenty feet or so away from the remainder of the herd, and some forty feet from the approaching youths. Ten more paces brought them to within comfortable firing range. As one man they dropped to one knee and took aim. Out of the corner of his eye, Radulf saw something approaching the line of archers upwind, and unnoticed by them. It was an enormous male washak, creeping stealthily, almost like a feline, and it was evident to Radulf that it intended them harm. This had been a kind of lookout for the herd. There was no time to call a warning, for even as he watched, the great bull washak began to lumber into a run. Radulf broke quickly from the cover of the brush behind which the rest of the hunting party was hiding, fitting an arrow to his bow as he ran. Warikiwappah frowned angrily, suspecting some kind of escape attempt from Radulf, or at the very least sabotage, and stood up, drawing his hunting knife, for Radulf was but twenty yards away from him, although that gap was becoming bigger all the time. As the line of kneeling archers fired, Radulf let fly his own shaft, and with the rogue male just twenty yards from the line, his arrow sped with deadly accuracy, penetrating the hard flesh of its brain, and it collapsed in full flight, shaking the ground as it thundered to a skidding halt. Warikeewappah realised what the Barbesselian had done, and sheathed his knife. Instead of a possible ten dead washak, there were five, four brought down by the line of archers, and the great beast felled by Radulf. He returned to the cover of the shrub and watched in silence as the archers started off once more towards the herd, a second arrow notched to each of their longbows. Then, amazingly, the same thing happened. As they loosed their arrows, and again four of the great shaggy-furred beasts tumbled to the ground, another approached downwind, from the left, unseen apparently by any except Radulf.