tty responsible individuals.
They were supposed to be the experts on law and custom. They were
supposed to put things together--and keep them that way. He could
remember daydreams he'd had once, of helping run a country. Some of
them had been pretty dramatic. But--well, it was beginning to look like
real trouble. If things went wrong, a councilor could get his neck on a
block for sure.

Then he smiled inwardly. So what of it? How could he get into any more
trouble? He already had the entire Enforcement Corps screaming for his
blood. He'd killed off a Royal Guard projector crew, an entire
Enforcement crew, and a few odd news people. They didn't like him. But
they wanted him. The only way out of this one would be straight ahead.
He nodded.

"Of course," he said simply.

The Korental came to his feet and grabbed his staff. Beside his stool
was a battered tone tube. He swung the staff at the dented wood and a
deep tone followed the sharp crack.

He wheeled upon the man who came through the door.

"Tell the Korensahn to come up here," he ordered. "And have him bring
five men with him. We have a clan adoption to witness."

* * * * *

Don flexed his back and hunched his shoulders a little to get the
pack-board more comfortably settled. The darn things were heavy. He
looked at the others, who walked along the road. Hang it, they seemed
to swing along under their loads as though they were just taking a
short walk before breakfast. He poked at the hard ground with his
stick.

How had he managed to haul himself into this one, anyway? Blasted thing
had all seemed so logical, back there in Korelanni. He reviewed the
steps.

First, it had been essential that the safety and contents of the Book
of the Waernu be determined. Without it, Pete's claim would be so vague
as to be untenable. Especially before a conclave with the regent in
active opposition.

Second, the book would have to be placed in safekeeping where it could
be immediately produced upon demand. He frowned. That was a tough one.
So anyway----

Then, there had come the question. Who was going to get this book and
bring it back--or protect it? Pete was too valuable and too vulnerable.
He was known, and if any of the police agencies got their hands on him
... well, that would be all. So Pete was out.

Jasu Waern? Don grinned to himself. "Skip it," he told himself. He
poked at the ground again with the stick. It was gett