you surrendering, and
you should be able to keep the worlds you still have."

Hovan nodded again, somberly. "Should it become necessary, Steve, I
will do as you wish. When I have completed my duties as a sponsor, I
will carry your message."

Tarlac hadn't realized until that moment, when he relaxed, how tense he
had been. "Let's get back so I can finish the Ordeal, then."

Yarra was waiting for them, standing as before at the head of the
clanhome stairs. Tarlac climbed to meet her, Hovan at his right. He'd
been gone less than a tenth-year, so she wasn't there to extend the
traveler's greeting, and she didn't. Instead she bowed to him,
formally. "Your courage and success in returning unaided bring much
honor to the clan, ruesten. Let our thanks for that welcome you home."

Her gesture and words were formal, but her tone held warmth and true
pleasure. Tarlac returned the bow, answering with equal formality and
just as much warmth. "It is good to be home, Ka'ruchaya. Any honor I
bring the clan is no more than repayment for the honor I was given in
being adopted."

That response clearly pleased both Yarra and Hovan. They were on
Ch'kara property now, so in-clan; neither had any hesitation in
embracing Steve, even before going inside. And Tarlac returned the
gesture just as eagerly, able to use his full strength as they dared
not.

He took a deep breath as soon as he stepped inside the clanhome, making
no effort to hold back a glad smile. "Gods, is it good to be home! I
swear, even the air smells better here!"

No one answered him immediately, for he was in Daria's arms then,
surrounded by others waiting their turns at him with very little
patience. "It always seems that way, ruhar," Daria finally said,
handing him bodily to Channath.

That was how everyone welcomed him back, passing him from one to
another. It wasn't at all dignified; it was totally unsuitable
treatment for any Imperial officer, much less a Ranger; word of it
would have caused scandalized talk; and Tarlac reveled unashamed in
every glorious second of his family's greeting.

It didn't end until he'd been seated in a small dining room with a
thick dornya sandwich--he was amused at how well the word fit into
Language--and a mug of hot chovas. He ate, savoring the taste and the
matter-of-fact thoughtfulness that had provided the meal.

Conversation, as usual, surrounded but didn't include him while he was
eating. When he was fini