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damp with approaching rain. Far to the northwest a gray line of clouds was forming along a storm front that would bring rain by nightfall.

Piers looked at the clouds and shivered. He had a bad cold, despite all of his precautions. "I wish we had time to stop at Jehanan Treld. I would like to be under a real tent before that rain hits,” he muttered.

The company urged their horses downhill and joined the great caravan route to the north. With luck, Gabria thought, we will be in Pra Desh in another fifteen to twenty days.

A few hours later, the party was riding through a narrow creek bed lined with eroded gullies and budding trees. Bregan suddenly held up his hand and brought the party to a stop. Athlone cantered his horse forward. The others stayed back and watched as Bregan pointed to a far hill where a group of horsemen were coming down the slope. The chieftain rode back, smiling for the first time in days.

"We have visitors,” he told them cheerful y.

Bregan trotted ahead to meet the seven riders cantering toward the road. They were led by a horseman holding aloft the dark red banner of the Jehanan chieftain, Sha Umar.

The two groups met along the road. Sha Umar and Athlone greeted each other like old friends while the Jehanan warriors accompanying their lord saluted the Khulinin and stared in surprised awe at the three Hunnuli.

Lord Sha Umar grinned through his neatly trimmed beard at Gabria and saluted her. "Greetings, fair lady. I see you have increased your number of black horses."

The sorceress returned his smile. She had always liked the Jehanan chief, for he had been one of the few lords to support her at the chiefs' council after Medb's death. She noticed his arm was still stiff from the wound he had received in the battle at the fortress, but his strong, tanned face was as healthy as ever, and his robust voice left no doubt as to his power and authority.

"Athlone,” he boomed. "You should have sent word you were coming! When one of my outriders told me he had spotted you on the road, I didn't believe him. I had to come out here to see for myself."

Athlone laughed. "My apologies, Sha Umar, but we're traveling fast. We hadn't planned to stop."

"At least stay the night. The treld is not far. Besides," he pointed to the sky "there's a storm coming."

The Khulinin chief fol owed his gesture to the dark clouds.

"I suppose we could use some supplies and a good night's sleep."

"Done!" Sha Umar exclaimed. He beamed with pleasure. "We don't have time for a feast, but I can promise you a good meal and a dry tent. Come."

The two chiefs rode ahead, side by side, and the others fel in behind.

Sha Umar lowered his voice so only Athlone could hear. "You are riding fast and without your cloaks. Your mission must be important."

"Yes," Athlone stated flatly.

"Would it have anything to do with Branth?"

Athlone assessed his friend for a moment before he answered. "Perhaps. But we do not want our journey to become common news."

"That's what I thought. Good. We can't leave Branth loose with Medb's old tome."

Athlone agreed. "The clans couldn't stand another war."

"Exactly. What can we do about that blasted book?"

"What do you mean?" the Khulinin asked carefully.

Sha Umar slapped the horn of his saddle. "That tome! It's caused nothing but trouble from the day it was found. What if you take it away from Branth and someone else gets his hands on it?" He paused as if embarrassed. "What would Gabria do if she had it?"

Athlone froze. "What are you implying?" he demanded, his voice harsh.

"Magic can corrupt, Athlone. It's simply a fact of human nature. That much power could lead even the purest to stray into greed, selfishness, cruelty, or vanity. Gabria is controlling her powers now, but what if that book of knowledge fel into her hands? How would she react? What would she do?" He looked at his friend. "More to the point, what would you do?”

Athlone was silent for a long while. When he finally answered, his voice was deeply troubled. "By the gods, I don't know."

"You'd better think about that on your way to find Branth,” said Sha Umar.

The Khulinin chief looked away, and the two men, without another word, left the road and led the party east toward Jehanan Treld. The winter camp of Clan Jehanan was only a few leagues away, sheltered in a wide, green valley not far from the Sea of Tannis. The Jehanan numbered several hundred, and their clan was rich in pride and tradition. Although their treld was close to the sea and they often fished and gathered food in its waters, they remained stock breeders and horsemen who followed their herds across the plains in the summer. They were fiercely loyal to their chieftain, devoted to each other, and hospitable to guests.

The Jehanan happily greeted Athlone and his companions, and they recognized Gabria from the summer before. Because of their gratitude to her for their survival, they stifled their fears and suspicions of her powers and welcomed her as befitted the lady of Clan Corin. They gave her the finest guest tent and a serving girl to tend to her needs. A bag of the clan's best oats was their gift for Nara. They were all amazed by the black colt and clustered around him in a distant but admiring circle.

Gabria was pleased by their efforts and, for her part, she hid her weapons, put on her skirts, and tried to blend in with the jovial crowd.

That night the travelers joined Sha Umar in the chief's big hall, a long, low building crafted of local stone and driftwood. The Jehanan chieftain was still unmarried, so his sisters served as hostesses and skillfully supervised the serving girls and the food.

The lord stinted nothing for his friends and had his

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