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anyone else. He walked straight to my father, knelt, and bowed to the ground.

My father stared down at him for some time. Finally he said, “When the warleader of another tribe comes secretly to spy upon a camp, usually that means he wishes to see all the strengths and weaknesses of that camp so that he may later lead a very serious raid. Is that why you have come here, warleader of the inKera?”

Hokino straightened, kneeling back on his heels. His hands rested on his thighs, open and relaxed. There was no tension in his shoulders or back. He should have kept his gaze lowered, but he looked up instead to meet my father’s eyes. He said, his tone resigned, “You know it is not that, lord. Please do not address me as warleader. I came here entirely on my own. Besides, after this, my brother will probably give my sword to someone else.”

My father did not smile, but the corner of his mouth tucked in a little. “A man may plan for every kind of difficulty, yet not expect the kind of difficulty that comes from sorcery. I think your brother will not judge your mistake too harshly, if you live long enough to explain it to him. Tell me why you came to spy on this camp, inKera.”

Hokino sighed. “I wanted to see my son. I had no other reason, lord. He became a man this spring. I wanted to look at him and go back and tell my wife that he has become a young man a father could be proud of. He belongs to the inGara now and I have no right to intrude in this way, so I thought I would come quietly and look and then go away again. But I saw the avila here and I was curious. I thought I would wait a little to see if anything else interesting happened here.” He glanced at Aras and then turned back to my father. “As you say, lord, I did not expect a sorcerer to reveal my presence. Now I am completely embarrassed.”

My father nodded. He had expected all this, or almost all of it. He said, “You are not the only one who is embarrassed,” and looked at Garoyo.

My brother had been standing to one side, frowning. Now, as everyone looked at him, he shifted his weight, took his sword from his back, walked forward, knelt, and laid the sheathed weapon on the rocky ground at my father’s feet. He said, “Lord, I had no idea anyone was there. My failure disgraces me and shames our people. I ask you to take back my sword and give it to someone more worthy.”

“You may keep your sword,” my father told him. “When an ally or a friend shows you that you have made a serious mistake, this is a gift for a man wise enough to correct his mistakes and do better. An occasional failure makes a man attentive where he may have been careless.” To Hokino, he said, “Give me your knife.”

Hokino took his knife, still sheathed, from his belt. He held it out to my father, who took it and weighed it in his hand.

Then my father held it out to Garoyo. “Warleader,” he said formally. “Take this knife. At some time when you find the moment convenient, return it to Hokino inKera, in his own camp.”

That made people smile. My brother did not smile. He said, his tone flat, “I will do that, lord.” Then he tucked the knife away and rose to his feet. His expression when he looked at Hokino was hard to read.

Hokino bowed his head. He said, “Warleader of the inGara, your mistakes were small. No enemy could easily come against the inGara here, in the heart of your territory, where your tombs overlook the tents of your people. The mountains defend you, and the inGeiro guard your flank as you guard theirs. One man may come quietly to look at your people; the land is so broken and rough, especially near the place where the waterfalls come down from the mountains, that there are many places there where a man can conceal himself. A raid here would be difficult, but a determined enemy might hurt your people badly if one man after another came to hide nearby, approaching over some days, and then they all attacked at the right moment. I will not apologize for making this clear, but I am aware my actions constitute an affront. I will take your blow if you wish.”

“You are due no punishment for correcting my mistakes,” Garoyo told him. “How long have you been here, watching this camp?”

“Two handfuls of days. A little more. Eleven days. I will show you all the places I concealed myself, warleader.”

Garoyo nodded, still expressionless.

Hokino said, “When you return my knife, I ask that you come into the camp of the inKera afterward as our guest and explain to me the failures that let you do it.”

My brother’s manner eased at that. He said, “I will remember your request.”

“So,” said my father, meaning that he thought that subject finished. He said to Hokino, “Hokino inKera, if you have something else to say, I will hear you.”

Hokino bowed low, touching his face to the earth. “Lord of the inGara, I apologize for trespassing on the lands of your people. I apologize most humbly. I swear before the gods, the inKera are glad to count the inGara among their allies and do not wish to offend. I ask you to punish me in whatever way you see fit, but to set no fault against the lord of the inKera or any other inKera person.”

My father regarded him. “That seems a reasonable request. You may ask me for more generosity than that. You may ask me for mercy.”

“Lord, I ask you to be merciful,” Hokino said

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