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rode alongside him at the front.
    As the war party rode along, Draiha and Gudhel dropped back from the front of the line so that they were within Moorhen's hearing. His cousin Gudhel was four years his senior and a fierce warrior. Draiha was only a year older than Moorhen, but she spent a lot of time hunting and was an excellent tracker.
    Despite her coarse attire, Draiha always managed to look very much like a woman. Moorhen was immediately aware of his own shabby appearance. His clothes were unwashed and tattered. He pushed this thought aside; he was her cousin, after all.
    "Cousin," said Gudhel sourly, "we have you to thank for this trip." He lay the blame at Moorhen's feet.
    "The Upper Steppe is more than a week away. We have no friendship with them," said Draiha, angry. "They care nothing for our lives." Speaking against Ashtan and his counsel while traveling with him was careless.
    "For my part, I apologize," said Moorhen. "I have no desire to start a war."
    "I'm not afraid to die," said Gudhel, "especially if I take some Chanden with me. It's the Steppe Clan I don't trust. Maybe we should strike on our own."
    "No matter who strikes," said Moorhen, "it's all the same to the Chanden. They don't care about clans. They'll blame every Garran for it and punish them."
    "The other clans shouldn't be cowards then," said Draiha, "if it's their neck as well as ours." She glanced over at Moorhen. "Too bad Father wouldn't leave you at home. Now we have to babysit you, as well as watch out for our own heads." At this Gudhel smirked. They rode ahead again. The insult stung all the more for coming from Draiha.
    At night the group camped in a ravine, out of sight. The North Moon was already up, giving some light. Moorhen was given the job of looking after the yithhe , a job no one coveted. He being junior-most on this trip, Moorhen expected that he'd get all of the worst jobs.
    Talk at supper was lively. Many discussed the upcoming battles and what they'd do to their opponents--the daring acts they would perform. Moorhen was silent through most of this.
    "Why don't you speak, cousin?" asked Draiha, "Are there no acts of courage that you have dreamt of? Or do you plan to just run away?" This brought laughter, especially from Channik, his eldest brother.
    "I won't run," said Moorhen, his face reddening.
    "Oh?" said Draiha. "Why so silent then?" Her features were delicate, despite her skills as a warrior … and her voice taunted him. She knew that Moorhen was attracted to her.
    "It's just that …" Moorhen hesitated. From the corner of his eye, he saw his father draw closer, listening in. "I think that there may be a better way to avenge Norbi than attacking the Chanden. That's all. In my heart, I have doubts that it's the right thing to do."
    At this, Ashtan strode over, angry. "You speak against me?"
    "No," said Moorhen, now afraid. He'd seldom seen his father in such a mood as he'd been since they brought back Norbi. All this talk of war. "Not against you. But … the Chanden strike out against us all, if one of us offends them. How are we different from them if we also strike out at every Chanden for the same reason?"
    "Our reasons are good enough! And of your making!" spat Ashtan.
    "They have weapons more destructive than any bow or sword we have. A terrible marksman can kill at long range with their guns!"
    Moorhen saw concern about this in some of the other's eyes. Mirrhia and Derish exchanged a glance.
    Ashtan drew closer to Moorhen, and he thought Ashtan would strike him. "I'm no fool, boy. Anyone here knows more about war than you do." This brought a little laughter, especially from Channik and their cousin Pellan.
    "The Upper Steppe Clan has a stash of Chanden weapons which they'll share with us. We can match their power, and exceed them in skill." This Ashtan spoke for the benefit of the others, perhaps aware that Moorhen was not the only one who had doubts. "Even if we were no match for them--to live as we have lived is a