lay cemented
stones and over these grew the moss, to soften the hard outlines of the
works of man. Here and there, a small, neat pile of material for
building lay, to remind the onlooker that this was a still growing
community. Pete leaned back.

"It's quite a bit different from the plains," he said, "and not as I
thought it would be. I always thought the hillmen were wild and
uncultured." He turned toward Don.

"But you still haven't really answered my question. Why is it my father
has to talk to the Korental--alone?"

Don lifted a shoulder. "Simple enough," he said. "Your father is the
head of your branch of the family right now. It's a pretty small clan
branch--just the two of you, but he's the clan head--the Waerntal.
Right?"

"I suppose so. Yes." Pete thought a moment. "Actually, I guess he's tal
over more than just the two of us. We are the senior line of the
family."

"Well, then. This is clan business. Your father wants to advance a
member of his clan as a claimant for the throne of Oredan. He needs the
support of other clans to do this. And this is important clan business.
See?"

Pete rubbed at an ear. "I begin to get the idea, I guess, but it just
doesn't make too much sense. He could have you speak for him. Or I
could plead my own case, for that matter, couldn't I?"

"Makes all kinds of sense." Don shook his head. "Look, you can't talk
to the Korental--not on even terms--not now. You're just a clansman. If
he accepts you as king-to-be, then you'll be a sort of super clan head.
Then you'll be able to discuss policy with him. But even then, only as
an equal--never as a superior. He actually acknowledges no superior."
He pointed to himself, pausing.

"Me? Good grief, I'm not even in this. I'm just a hired hand--not even
a member of your clan. Before I could open my mouth, I'd have to be
adopted into your clan and designated as a clan councilor. Even then,
the tal would have to open the discussion.

[Illustration]

"Oh, I can talk to the Korental as an individual who wants to get help
from some of his people for a hunt, sure. And we can then arrange an
exchange of goods. That's between him and me. But if I tried to talk to
him on this affair, he'd throw me out of the village." He rubbed his
cheek thoughtfully.

"And, come to think of it, if he thought you'd asked me to intervene,
after he'd tossed me out, he'd probably feed you to the Choyneu. That,
he'd regard as a selling of honor."

Pete look