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„That's still thirty thousand of the best soldiers there are, Derel."

„Sure. A lot to you. But not so many when you consider the population of the Roe Basin. What they become then is a symbol of the power of Shinsan, not the power itself. They'd disappear in a general uprising."

„They'd do a lot of damage."

„Certainly. But they'd be overwhelmed anyway."

„I've been on Michael not to roil things up. Now you're saying I should stir the pot."

„Hsung won't back off poking at you. Don't let him get away with it. Poke right back."

„Then he hollers foul."

„Don't involve your own people. Not directly. There'll be nothing he can do. He operates under constraints, too. He has a peace-loving image to maintain. That means put­ ting up with provocations. What it boils down to is, you play their game, only nastier. Because of the trouble with Matayanga, they're in a tighter spot than we are."

„When you back off and look at it, Derel, it all seems kind of pointless. What difference will it make a hundred years from now?"

„Maybe none. Some of my colleagues subscribe to a futility theory of history. Even so, there are turning points.

They're usually invisible except in retrospect. One of the great moments in Ravelin's history took place in Itaskia. We're still feeling the consequences."

Ragnarson grinned. „You're zigging when I'm zagging, Derel. You lost me that time."

„The day you left your homestead to complain about a little trouble you'd had. You'd barely heard of Kavelin. Six months later you were leading Fiana's army. Now you're King."

„By that reasoning, Haaken and I changed history by running out of Trolledyngja instead of fighting the Pre­ tender."

„Absolutely. You'd be twenty-five years dead if you'd stayed. Other men would be alive. The El Murid Wars would have had a different shape. Something different could have happened in Freyland. Duke Greyfells might have become Itaskia's King. Kavelin's civil war could have gone the other way. There might have been no Great Eastern Wars at all."

Prataxis's talk made Ragnarson nervous. It made not only life but history itself sound fragile. He had been taught differently as a boy. Trolledyngjans were determined believ­ ers in fate. „We're getting away from the point."

„No, we're not. Not from mine. I want you to understand that, every time you make a move, you're shaping tomor­ row. You shape it even when you don't do anything. Your best chance to shape this the way you want it is to stay aggressive. There'll be more ramifications. Some might be exploitable."

„Okay. I get the message. I'll get out there and keep the cauldron boiling. We don't want your thesis getting dull."

„Sire!..."

Bragi grinned. „I couldn't resist. You take yourself too serious sometimes." Ragnarson rose, surveyed the gather­ ing. Hundreds had come. This was the biggest turnout since the war. Most of the Thing and their women. All of his own clique, except Michael and Mist and Varthlokkur, who avoided all functions. Many of the old Nordmen nobility, who now called themselves the Estates because they con­ trolled the largest landholdings. Influential members of the merchant class. Representatives of the silent, seldom-seen, and absolutely essential Siluro civil servant class. Credence Abaca and a clutch of Marena Dimura chieftains who formed a human stockade in a corner. They reminded Ragnarson of cattle in winter, standing nose to nose, their tails turned to the wind. Drink might bring them into the exchange of thought these functions sometimes precipi­ tated.

He looked for Trebilcock. Michael still had not shown, and had not been seen since the attempt on Liakopulos's life. Ragnarson had begun to worry. He wanted to talk to the man.

They were still arriving. The hall was getting crowded. If all the invitations were accepted, he would have trouble packing people in.

Mist arrived, escorted by Aral Dantice. The effect of her was like a numbing gas spreading from the doorway. Men stopped talking. They stared in awe or hunger. Women stared in awe, envy, and outright hatred. The woman's impact was incredible. Even the musicians faltered.

And how well she carried off her act of being unaware of the effect she produced!

Behind Mist and Aral were Kristen and several friends. His daughter-in-law had been free with the secondary invitations, he saw. Each of her guests was unattached and lovely.

That startled him. He dropped back into his seat. „Derel, I just noticed something." „Sire?"

Bragi folded his hands under his chin. Thoughtfully, he said, „There are a lot of unattached women these days. Good-looking women. That's unnatural." „Adopt the marriage laws of Hammad al Nakir." „What?"

„Let a man have more than one wife." „Gods! One is trouble enough." He glanced round the room. He saw a lot of unmarried younger women. Most were the daughters of guests. Each had a huntress's gleam in her eyes.

„The war claimed a lot of young men," Prataxis ob­ served. „Kavelin's single females probably outnumber sin­ gle males five to one."

„What am I doing married?"

„Definitely a tactical mistake, Sire. Michael appears to be prospering. But it's a game with few survivors. The huntress knows how to net her prey."

„It's something I never really thought about. An imbal­ ance like that is going to have effects."

„Absolutely. It'll strain the traditional mores. What you have to do is make the girls having illegitimate children all have boy babies. After a while there would be husbands to go around, though they'd be a little young."

Bragi gave Derel a sour look. That was a Prataxis joke.

„It's not a problem unique to Kavelin. One way or another, one place or another, the west has been at war since the Scourge of God broke out of Hammad al Nakir. We're into our second generation of sexual imbalance. One more and the die-hard guardians of the old morality will be gone. Changes in female attitudes will accelerate... ."

„I've got a question, Derel."

„Sire?"

„Do you have a lecture for every topic?"

Prataxis looked bewildered, then a little hurt.

„Just joking. Every time I notice something, you already know about it. And you go on forever about how it happened and why, how and why it works, what it means... ."

„I'm a don of the Rebsamen," Prataxis replied stiffly. „I was taught to observe and reason. There's nothing mystical about that. You do it yourself, though on a less premedi­ tated level. That's why you make correct decisions more often than not."

„I didn't mean any offense, Derel." Why was the man so damned humorless and touchy? He had asked to come live among the barbarians... . No. Derel would object to the wording. Insufficiently precise. He would prefer something encompassing self-righteous ignorance.

„Father?"

He glanced down. His daughter-in-law stood at the foot of the dais supporting the party thrones. „Kristen! You found something to wear. And I thought you weren't going to make it."

„Liar. You knew I'd be here if I had to come mother naked. These are my friends." She indicated the girls still with her. „It's okay, isn't it?"

„The more the merrier. I'd rather look at them than bald old men with beards. But maybe you should show a little respect for your King in front of people." He smiled. Kristen's girlfriends had performed their deep curtsies immediately.

„Oh. Yes." Flustered, she bent a leg.

„Good enough. Now. Who are all these beautiful ladies?"