At dusk, she joined her father and Enly, and the three of them rode back into the village. Once again, they found the eldest waiting for them in the marketplace. Several torches had been mounted on poles, which were arrayed around a long table. It seemed they were to eat right there, out in the open, despite the chill creeping into the night air. The eldest had been joined by perhaps ten men and women, most of them white-haired like Fayonne. They were already seated, leaving four spaces at the table's center. All of them stared at Tirnya and the others, but they didn't smile or say a word. They just watched.
"Welcome," Fayonne said. "Thank you for coming."
The words were kind enough, but once again there was something grim in the woman's manner. In spite of herself Tirnya wondered if Enly might be right about this village and its people.
Fayonne indicated the table. "Please, join us." She led them to the table and sat, clearly expecting them to do the same.
There were already loaves of bread on the table and a bowl of dark stew at each place. The eldest picked up her spoon, dipped it into the stew, and held it up, glancing at Jenoe, a thin smile on her lips.
"Again, welcome," she said. "Enjoy."
With that, she began to eat, as did the other Mettai.
Jenoe nodded to the two captains and picked up his spoon as well. Tirnya followed his example, tasting the stew tentatively. It was awful. It had been heavily spiced with some herb that burned her tongue but didn't quite mask the sour taste of whatever meat had been used in the dish. What few vegetables there were had been badly overcooked, and the meat was tough and stringy. She reached for some bread at the same time Enly did.
Her father had taken one spoonful, and now he laid his spoon back down on the table and looked at the eldest.
"Have you and your council come to a decision?" he asked.
"We have," the eldest said, in between spoonfuls. One might have thought it was the most delicious meal she'd ever had. "We'll join you in your war against the Fal'Borna, and in return we want land, gold, and horses."
Jenoe raised an eyebrow. "I see."
"Surely you can offer us all of that and more," Fayonne said. She put down her spoon and took a sip of water, which was, Tirnya realized, the only thing there was to drink. "I see your army, your weapons, your horses, and I think to myself, 'Here are people with riches to spare.' "
Jenoe smiled faintly and toyed with his spoon. "Our wealth isn't as great as you might think. But as I said when we first spoke, we can offer you land. If you help us against the Fal'Borna, you'll share in the spoils of our victory."
"Horses and gold, too," the woman said.
"If those are among the spoils," the marshal said, after eyeing her briefly, "then perhaps we can offer them. But I make no promises."
The woman frowned, but after a moment she nodded once. "Very well. When do we leave?"
Tirnya's father opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Forgive me, Eldest. I'm certain that you're a skilled sorcerer. But we're marching to war, and right now we have no spare horses to offer you. I believe that you'd be best off sending some of your younger men and women with us. And then after-"
"No!" Fayonne said, shaking her head. "We're going with you. That's what you said before."
Jenoe glanced at Tirnya, looking doubtful. "If you feel that you need to accompany us, I suppose you can."
"Not just me," she said, her voice rising. "All of us! Everyone!"
The marshal's eyes widened. "Everyone?" He laughed nervously, though his forehead was creased deeply. "You can't be serious."
She started to answer, but stopped herself, glancing at the elders. Tirnya couldn't see many of their faces, but she thought she saw several of them shake their heads.
A moment later, the eldest gave a small breathless laugh that clearly was forced. "No, of course I'm not, Marshal. I'll come with you. As eldest it's my place. But other than that it will only be the youngest and strongest of us."
Jenoe looked around the table, much as Fayonne had done a moment before. "All right," he said, sounding unnerved.
"Why are you so anxious to leave this place?" Enly asked.
Fayonne looked at him sharply, torchlight shining in her dark eyes. "Wouldn't you be?" she demanded.
"Other Mettai have refused us."
"Enly!" Tirnya said, glaring at him.
"They have a right to know," he said. He faced the eldest again. "Other Mettai have told us they want nothing to do with our war, but you… You didn't hesitate at all."
Fayonne regarded him for several moments. "Are all the men of Qalsyn like you?" she asked. "Are all of you the same?"
Enly gave a sour look. "Of course not."
"Then why should you expect all Mettai to be?"
"I don't, but as I say, these other Mettai-"
"Their villages were more prosperous than ours, weren't they? Their land was more fertile?"
Enly conceded that point with a nod. "Yes, it was."
"There's your answer." The eldest picked up her spoon and took another mouthful of stew. "Please," she said. "Eat. There's plenty."
None of them ate much more, and before long they were riding back to their camp, trying to make out the lane as their eyes adjusted to the night. "Something's not right here," Enly said quietly.
"I agree," Jenoe told him.
Tirnya couldn't bring herself to argue with them. Despite how eager she was to ride to war, she knew it as well.
"We could ride farther north," Enly said. "There may be other Mettai who'll agree to join us."
"And what if there aren't?" Tirnya asked. "We've struck a bargain with them. We asked them to ride to war with us and they agreed. Now you want us to break our word?"
"We could tell them that we want to find more Mettai to join us," Jenoe said.
She shook her head fiercely. "We're not going to find any others. You both know it's true. You're right, Enly: They are desperate. That's why they agreed. And before you argue that this makes them unfit in some way to march with us, I'll remind you that war often fosters alliances of convenience. How often did the Fal'Borna and J'Balanar fight together against the sovereignties?"
For a long time neither of the men spoke, until finally Tirnya's father said, "She makes a valid point."
"I know," Enly said. "I just hope their magic is worth all this."
"I just hope," Jenoe said, "that we're not forced to eat any more of their food."
Tirnya and Enly laughed.
"When we left earlier my men were on their way to hunt some game," Tirnya told them. "We can eat when we get back to camp."
As it turned out, though, Oliban and the others had found precious little to eat, and most of the men had been forced to cobble together an evening meal from the stores the army had carried from Qalsyn. Before going to sleep, Tirnya ate a bit of dried meat and cheese, but not enough to get the taste of the Mettai stew out of her mouth, and not enough to keep her stomach from growling as she lay down under the stars.
Tirnya slept poorly, plagued by hunger and vague, disturbing dreams of white-hairs and Mettai. She awoke well before dawn and spent the rest of the night staring up into a cloudless sky, wondering if they were making a mistake by trusting these strange, desperate people.
They broke camp with first light. As Jenoe and Fayonne had agreed, the Mettai appeared on the road just as the sun was rising. The eldest walked at the head of their company, and with her were at least fifty younger men and women, all of them carrying travel sacks on their backs, and many of them bearing axes and long daggers, as well as the knives they carried on their belts.
Tirnya stood with her father, watching the Mettai approach. "Whatever else you might say about them," she remarked, "they look like they're ready to fight."
Jenoe nodded but said nothing. Many of the men around her had stopped what they were doing and were watching the Mettai approach. Some of them merely looked curious, but a good number were eyeing the villagers with suspicion, even fear.