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Piluna, through
the abdomen. Jad struck down with his foil, knocked the rapier from Reith’s
grip. A grotesque moment he stood looking at Reith in horror and accusation,
the blade protruding from his body. He tore it out, flung it aside, advanced on
Reith who groped for his dropped knifeshield. As Jad lunged Reith picked up the
foil, hurled it point first into Jad’s face. The point struck into Jad’s open
mouth and became fixed, like a fantastic metal tongue. Jad’s knees buckled; he
collapsed to the ground, and lay with fingers twitching.
    Reith, breath
rasping in his throat, dropped the hat with proud Piluna into the dirt and went
to lean on the pole of a shed.
    There was no
sound throughout the camp.
    Finally Traz
Onmale said, “Vaduz has overcome Piluna. The emblem takes on luster. Where are
the Judgers? Let them come to judge Jad Piluna.”
    The three
magicians came forward, glowering first at the new corpse, at Traz Onmale and
sidelong at Reith.
    “Judge,”
ordered Traz Onmale in his harsh, old-man’s voice. “Be sure to judge correctly!”
    The magicians
consulted in a mutter; then the Chief Magician spoke. “Judgment is difficult.
Jad lived a hero’s life. He served Piluna with distinction.”
    “He murdered
a girl.”
    “For good
cause: the taint of heresy, traffic with an unclean hybrid! What other
religious man might not do the same?”
    “He acted
beyond his competence. I instruct you to judge him evil. Put him on the pyre.
When Braz appears, shoot the evil ashes to hell.”
    “So be it,”
muttered the Chief Magician.
    Traz Onmale
went off into his shed.
    Reith stood
alone at the center of the compound. In uneasy groups the warriors spoke
together, glancing toward Reith with distaste. The time was late afternoon; a
bank of heavy clouds obscured the sun. There were flickers and twitches of
purple lightning, a hoarse mutter of thunder. Women scurried here and there,
covering bundles of fodder and jars of food-pod. The warriors bestirred
themselves to tighten the lines holding the tarpaulins down over the great
wagons.
    Reith looked
down at the girl’s corpse, which no one seemed interested in carrying away. To
allow the body to lie out all night in the rain and wind was unthinkable.
Already the pyre was alight, ready to receive the hulk of Jad. Reith lifted the
girl’s body, carried it to the pyre and, ignoring the complaints of the old
women who tended the flames, laid the body into the kiln with as much composure
and grace as he could manage.
    With the
first spatters of rain, Reith went to that storage shed which had been given
over to his use.
    Outside the
rain pelted down. Sodden women built a rude shelter over the pyre and continued
to feed the flames with brush.
    Someone came
into the shed. Reith backed into the shadows, then the firelight shone on the
face of Traz Onmale. He seemed somber, dejected. “Reith Vaduz, where are you?”
    Reith came
forth. Traz Onmale looked at him, gave his head a glum shake. “Since you have
been with the tribe, everything has gone wrong! Dissension, anger, death. The
scouts return with news only of empty steppe. Piluna has been tainted. The
magicians are at odds with the Onmale. Who are you, why do you bring us such
woe?”
    “I am what I
told you I am,” said Reith: “a man from Earth.”
    “Heresy,”
said Traz Onmale, without heat. “Emblem Men are the spill of Az. So say the
magicians, at least.”
    Reith
pondered a moment, then said, “When ideas are in contradiction, as here, the
more powerful ideas usually win. Sometimes this is bad, sometimes good. The
society of the Emblems seems bad to me. A change would be for the better. You
are ruled by priests who-”
    “No,” said
the boy decisively. “Onmale rules the tribe. I carry that emblem; it speaks
through my mouth.”
    “To some
extent. The priests are clever enough to have their own way.”
    “What do you
intend? Do you wish to destroy us?”
    “Of course not.
I want to destroy no