One of the things Renna loved best about living with the Zerui was the way the sun rose here in the wilds. It was strange-she wasn't terribly far from the little farm that she knew as her first home, but the colors in the sky had a far different intensity here for whatever reason, and she had a habit of standing outside her tent to watch them blaze before she set about the day's work. Today the sunrise provided its usual glory, and also a small measure of comfort and a sense of normalcy that she desperately needed. For the Izotzi had come to the gathering of all the Zerui, and even with him there the feelings of isolation and loneliness were worse than ever. Here was a sea of hundreds and hundreds of people with copper skin and brown eyes and black hair, and it made her feel constantly naked. Every Baskari man, woman, and child stared, and worse, they whispered. She already knew that they weren't calling her pretty or skilled or anything positive, really, and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone spoke to her directly. Perhaps even Zeru himself.

The thought made her shudder, and she hastily turned her gaze inside to double-check that she'd cleaned up their breakfast properly. The tent was pristine, and Izotz had enjoyed his meal, so there was nothing to be done here. Green eyes landed on the loom in the corner, and she fidgeted. She could always weave; she loved it and she was good at it-but the midsummer heat was stifling, even with flaps in the tent left open. But she had to do something to keep herself busy, and that meant working. After all, she could hardly join the dances or pick up a set of pipes or strike up a conversation with any of the women who stared so accusingly at her, and Oihana was much distracted with the child forming within her. Besides, she made poor company now with the loss of her daughter and the presence of Arnas.

All at once Renna's mind made itself up, and she moved to her loom with an air of resolution. She was no coward, and maybe they'd see that now. The girl lifted her weaving up and heaved it cautiously out of the tent, where she set it down right beside the door flap. There, the air was fresh here and the light good. She could work in comfort now.

Renna knelt before her loom and let her fingers stroke over the threads, then all at once she went to work, singing softly to herself. It was a good day for weaving.

Mikel still didn't feel like himself. He had spent most of the past two months in a stifling Healer's tent while they tried to save his mangled leg. They had. It was horribly scarred, and he would be walking with a stick for awhile, but they had saved it.

And Iñaki had told no one that Mikel had tried to kill him. Had told no one, and now Mikel was very puzzled indeed. Angry, sad that the Zerui were in such a state, but mostly puzzled. Angry at Esti too. She was pregnant by Iñaki, everyone knew that. It was a disgrace or a blessing--no one could decide, but he, Mikel, knew all too well. It would have been better if he had succeeded. Better not for him--Iñaki was his friend, after all. But better for the Tribe. He had failed, and so they were all doomed, Mikel knew this with certainty.

But in the meantime, Mikel was irrepressible. He'd heard there was some interloper woman around, rumors mostly. At first he didn't believe them, but then, while he was easing himself down onto a log to fletch a few arrows, he caught sight of her. She was so white! Whiter even than the men he'd fought, and her eyes looked to be a very strange color, like the eyes of a blind girl he had seen once. But this creature could obviously see. She was weaving.

"Hey, are you that white all over?" he asked, leaning forward, his face set in a broad grin. Why not joke about it, he thought. Nothing to be done, if some minor chieftain wanted to defile his line. He pressed a hand to his ribs, smashed in the attack and likewise recently healed, as they twinged.

The girl flinched at the sound of a male voice addressing her, and stared down at her weaving. She'd known this would happen, sooner or later-but she hadn't expected to be harrassed like this. Oh, where was Izotz?

She chanced a glance up to see the man teasing her, and felt her stomach twist. He really was very handsome, and grinning at her the way a wolf might look at a wounded deer. Renna felt panic rising. What should she do? Ignore him? Go hide? Retort with a sharp answer? Oh, but she couldn't. Paralyzing fear was the product of how Izotz had claimed her, and it was impossible to be so calm around another man-especially one who was teasing her sexually. Her tongue was frozen.

Renna's fingers tightened in the threads and she cast about for anything, anything at all, to say. She couldn't just sit here mute; he would never stop. The young woman swallowed and grasped at the only thought that came to mind, speaking before she managed to fully process what she was actually going to say. Miraculously, her tone remained calm and matter-of-fact, but she knew that she was trembling. "...I'm whiter where the sun doesn't touch, just like Zerui women are. But I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for that, since I doubt you've ever been acquainted with those sorts of places."

Mikel laughed at the interloper's discomfort. And at her quick retort, which hardly offended him; he was used to the rough teasing of his friends.

"Seen all too many." She had reacted to him, anyway. Mikel knew he wasn't bad-looking. Not like that former pretty-boy, Iñaki (not so pretty without his eye), but not bad. "Still, it's always nice to take in more, for the sake of comparison. So how did you end up here? What tribe took you?" His mouth twisted a little, in a gesture of judgment--he didn't think much of that tribe. "Are you a slave, a concubine, a whore--what? Or a spy?" He squinted at her, only half-joking, then leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. Mikel's bad leg was stiff, but could take part of his weight, and, in fact, pressing down on it actually made it feel better.

She relaxed a little, although she remained guarded. This man was curious; that was to be expected and although he didn't seem too happy to have her here at least she didn't feel so horribly frightened by curiousity. She did not like the way he so callously listed her possible positions within the tribe-spy, whore, concubine, slave-even though she knew it was true. Renna took a deep breath and reminded herself that Izotz loved her and he'd said as much, but even that was barely enough to soothe the sting. "The former Hibaii tribe took me; now Izotzi. I am the concubine to jaun Izotz sem'Hibai. And yes, I am a spy."

Her tone took on a bitter, sarcastic note. "The King sent me because he knew that I would make so many friends here, I was bound to learn some valuable information! Don't you see how good I am? Every Zerui is dying to tell me their secrets. Look at the crowd just waiting to talk to me."

She snorted, and bent her head back over her weaving.

"The Hibaii..." Mikel frowned and scratched his head. He liked to keep up on tribal politics. It was something he prided himself on, in fact. And he remembered something about the Hibaii. That they stayed near the border, that they ran more raids than normal--that their chieftain was a little power-hungry, and had been very audacious, almost rebellious, last Gathering. Well, Hibai was dead, was he?

"Their chief died?" He nodded, faking nonchalance. It was only a minor chieftain. "So the son's in charge. Times are moving on." One day Iñaki would be in charge... if the Zerui survived that long. He shook off the thought. "So they're taking interlopers for concubines? That's strange. Are you the only one, or are there more?" He eyed her. She didn't look pregnant. Maybe interloper women didn't breed readily with Zerui. It irked him to think of them diluting Zerui blood.

Renna's tone was short. "I'm the only one. It was a mistake-I was to be a badge of battle-strength, but no one had any idea how poorly Thiasan women would adjust to the idea of becoming concubines. Here's a word of advice. If you ever go on a raid, leave the women alone. It's not worth it."

She focused her gaze back on her blanket, and sighed. It was coming along beautifully, of course-but all this talk was making her fret. Izotz was chief now. Surely he would have to take a 'real wife' soon, and then she'd have to share him. The thought made her stomach twist. The girl bit on her lip and shook her head slowly, her desire to weave ruined by these discouraging imaginings. She pulled her hands into her lap and shifted her weight restlessly, not knowing what else to do. "...My name is Renna, by the way. Thank you for asking."

"Renna." Unlike Zerui names, he had no idea what it meant--if it meant anything. Mikel had no idea what the interlopers did regarding names. He'd never bothered to find out. "Do you have the rest of your name...? Like, I'm Mikel sem'Andoni." How silly, they probably didn't do that. But Mikel wanted to know; the more he knew, the more power he had, as compared to ignorant Iñaki.

Perhaps he was only still angry at, or skeptical of, Iñaki because he had failed... but. There was no chance to think of that.

The interloper woman was pretty, he noticed. Not beautiful, and a little strange-looking, like a fish; but pretty enough, and her novelty lent her gloss. Mikel hadn't had a woman for a long time, not with his injuries. He decided flirting wouldn't be stupid. After all, she was only an interloper.

"So what do you think of us, so far?" He eyed her curiously, folding his arms over his chest, now, and leaning back, his posture disarming. He'd pick up political gossip elsewhere.

"Forgive me, Mikel sem'Ardoni, I'm Renna alab'John. Or, Renna Mochrie, if you will. " She smiled at him, anticipating the question forming in his mind. They all asked the same thing. "And yes, my name has a meaning. It's 'peace,' and 'song', all in one. Interlopers like meaningful names too. "

Her smile faded to hear his next question, however- not because it offended her, but because it was going to be difficult to answer. Renna put her head to one side thoughtfully and looked at Mikhail, relaxing a little more when she noticed that he didn't appear as threatening as he had at first. "...What do I think of you?....You ask me a hard question. Hmmm. What do I think."

She pondered a moment, then gave a slow, considering answer. "I think...you are people, no better and no worse than my own. I think sometimes you are too violent, but you care for each other and are very brave and strong. I think that it's as easy to love you as it is to love the people of my homeland. I know I'll be sad for both of you when war begins. And I know I love my husband, at any rate-and I know that I had an easy escape, but I chose to stay here. So I suppose it is very...different, and lonely, for me-but there is something that draws. "

Her serious expression became half-teasing. "It's probably the trousers. I like being able to move my legs freely. I never knew I could run so fast before."

Mikel raised an eyebrow. He was surprised to find it so easy to talk to this woman, Renna.

"Trousers, the interloper women don't wear them? What do they wear?" He'd seen very few interloper women. Actually, none; and while he'd heard bits about them, he really didn't know very much. He didn't ask the older fighters about women. He asked them about the men, about the weapons, about interloper combat strategy.

"But you're not really a Zerui, then, are you?" He watched her. Her comment--that they shouldn't take more interloper women--was more telling, perhaps, than she'd intended. "I mean, it seems as though it'd be hard. Or do you want to become Zerui, and want your children to be Zerui?" He tried not to shudder at the thought of this, and succeeded. There were half-breeds born to a few Zerui women, after the interlopers had finished their war.

"...I think it would be nice to have two homes. But I will never be full Zerui. I don't wish to be." She went back to weaving. "I simply respect the Zerui, and I think that I could be useful when war starts because I understand both sides and know how to behave with each. My wish is not to be...Zerui...but to be a friend to the Zerui. Surely even for you proud Baskar that is not impossible."

Renna smiled at him. "My children will be my children. I'll be happy with whatever they are, Zerui or Thiasan. I've been told, however, that the main idea of the concubine thing is to honor my bloodline with a strong sire to make my children Zerui. So I expect they'll be more of the tribe than I am. As for what we wear-" Her grin widened. "Let me show you."

She ducked into the tent and was gone for a few minutes, then emerged in the gown she'd arrived in. It was quite scruffy from being left in dingy corners for months on end, but illustrated the point clearly enough. The interloper woman was covered from head to foot, with her legs hidden behind volumes of fabric that billowed out around her. "Can you see how this might be hard to run in? It's hot, too."

Mikel got up slowly, propping himself up on his crutch, and peered at the garment. It was voluminous, practically tentlike. A winter garment, surely, something to put on outside a lot of layers to go out... but no, it was thin fabric. He reached out to feel it, keeping his balance carefully. His wounds made him embarrassingly feeble, and he tried not to show any hint of pain on his face. It was his well-deserved punishment.

"Amazing," he said, shaking his head and smiling at the woman. He touched her shoulder with his free hand once he had finished feeling the fabric of her slightly musty Thiasan dress. "I can't imagine you wearing all that. Well, I'm not imagining you wearing much of anything, to tell the truth." He flashed her a wide, white grin, incongruous as ever on his oddly serious-looking face. Mikel smiled a lot, but he didn't seem like the sort of person who would.

Renna blushed, a little taken aback, but she flinched out of the range of his hand. Remember what had happened to Oihana!

"Thank you. I'm flattered. But I wish you wouldn't imagine me at all."

Her words were gentle, and she cast an arm out towards her tent. "We've already established that I'm not a whore, and that I love my husband. You're plenty handsome. It shouldn't be too hard for you to find a nice Zerui girl, no?"

Not to mention the thought of another man touching her made her queasy with fear. "Anyway, I won't be any fun. Only Izotz may touch me without making me panic. Rape has a way of doing that to people."

She hardened then and watched him with the guard back in her eyes. "We can talk about other things, if you wish. But there's no point doing that. It won't get you anywhere with me."

Of course it wouldn't. She was imagining Izotz's face to distract from the easy charm of the handsome and wounded warrior praising her now.

Mikel drew back slowly, and inched back down to his seat, leaning on his stick. It wasn't just a show for Renna--he really was in pain--but he had the feeling it would soften his heart.

"Truth to tell, there are plenty of Zerui girls. But I like a challenge." He liked to win things that weren't his. He liked to win in general, he liked to charm people who seemed unattainable or higher-up. Just look at Xanti and Iñaki, warlord's sons both of them and both of them had followed him. "Anyway, doesn't your husband, whom you love, have other wives, eh?"

He paused, her words just falling on his ears. "Hey--wait. What about rape?"

He was in pain! Instantly Renna was treated with a healthy dose of guilt, but she swallowed it in the face of his teasing about other wives. "No, no wife. Just me." So there, she added mentally. Mikel might be handsome, and charming, and wounded and in need of pity, but he would earn no points that way. In the months she'd been married to Izotz, he hadn't even brought another lover home. She was the only woman of a chief, and that was highly satisfying. But she still had to wince at the can of worms she'd inadvertently opened. It hadn't been her intention to speak about anything so personal, but he was so easy to talk to! She couldn't help it. She loved Izotz, very much, and she could talk to him...but it was never this smooth because he was never this open with her. She had to prod at him to get anything of use out of that mouth of his. "And yes. Rape."

She didn't like to remember that bit of her life, but she'd said it first so she might as well just grin and bear it. "The way to claim a concubine is to sleep with her. Thiasan women don't sleep with men unless they're married, and then only with their husband. They don't take lovers like Zerui do, and it's...very, very bad if they do. I'd never even seen a grown man naked before. Make of that what you will."

"Never seen a man naked? No time like the present, eh?" Mikel gestured to show that he was joking, and winced slightly before leaning back. He picked up an arrow again and began slotting the feathers into place, securing them with some glue from an earthenware jar balanced on the ground beside him. After so long, the chore required little to no attention, though he did get some satisfaction from a particularly well-placed feather.

"I didn't know that. How strange." Mikel furrowed his brow. No wonder the Thiasans were so warlike and needed territory to spread out--they were probably forever chasing scared women. "Do the men get to see the women?" No man he knew was able to wait until they got married to take women--no women, either, but he couldn't imagine himself having the patience. "I mean, don't you have whores, too?"

She shook her head. "Yes, we have whores...and there are men who see them...but it's not...accepted. Bad women sell their bodies. Bad men give them patronage. There is no honor in it. I suppose it's very widespread because humans sin, and we have our vices...but women are supposed to be innocent, and men are supposed to control themselves. It happens. But we all know it's wrong."

Renna tilted her head and looked at him, curiously. "Why don't -you- feel the same way? The practical side of it is that no unwed couples have children, and disease doesn't spread. If everyone is doing as they please, aren't there a lot of children running around without homes, and isn't-" She blushed. "Isn't that type of disease fairly common? I mean, our bodies work the same way. Surely you can't be immune."

"Huh." Mikel shrugged, and shook his head. "We don't get sick that often. I think your people are dirty." He eyed her; she wasn't, but the soldiers he'd fought had stunk. "Anyway, if a woman doesn't know the father of her children it's her problem, and her father takes care of them. Or if she's a whore the other women help. It's not such a problem." He shrugged, carefully given his tender ribs. "Maybe interloper women are more fragile? Are you?"

He motioned for her to sit beside him, patting the ground with one hand, then turned back to his arrow-fletching. The sun felt good on his face after so long in the Healer's tent, brooding. And here he was, talking to an interloper woman. Now that they no longer went to war against the Spirt-Worshippers, maybe he'd take a concubine himself. Idiot Iñaki got as many wives as he wanted, why shouldn't Mikel get a few women? He could even get one for Peru, who'd be too scared of what his father would say...

She looked indignant at the insinuation of being both fragile and dirty, and folded her arms across her chest. "We are -not- dirty! At least, my family wasn't-it was your warriors that smelled bad. And I'm not fragile, either. I've made it this far, haven't I? It's true that we're not as used to living outdoors and hard labor as Zerui women are, because we tend to stay inside with cooking and children and sewing, but we're not fragile. We can be every bit as strong. See?"

Renna rolled back the sleeve of her long gown and showed him an arm hardened with muscle, but then sighed and looked at her feet. "Of course, for all that, I'll never be nearly as strong as Izotz is. And I'm not really...designed to be sturdy, either, but that's not my fault. At any rate I think I'm strong. I try to be."

The girl softened to see him inviting her to sit by him, and gave him a smile. No one had gone out of their way to talk with her yet, and it was a blessed relief to have someone to speak to. Even if he was an irrepressible flirt. Renna moved over and sat next to him gratefully, tucking her legs under her body and watching him work curiously. "...Fletching is hard work. My brother used to do that....and he showed me, once, but I could never get the hang of it. It's too hard to straighten the wands. Actually, he wasn't very good either. Too impatient."

A faint smile crossed her face, then it turned into a troubled expression as she shifted her weight. Renna glanced around her at all the business of the Gathering, and then sighed and looked at her feet. "...It's almost Midsummer."

She looked glum, the creamy skin of her face taking on a greyish tint born of dread. "I don't think I can bear to watch him die. Whoever he is." The weaver hugged her knees to her chest and shook her head with a sigh, letting her curls dip over her shoulder.

Mikel shrugged. "It's an honor for him, whoever he is," he said shortly. "I don't approve of sacrificing an interloper, either. But that's because I don't think one would be worthy, or would even understand what was happening. You don't accept our God. How could our God accept one of you?" He shook his head, still looking down at his fletching. It struck him as sort of funny that he was confiding this in the interloper woman, but then, as the attempted murder of the future Warlord, he was almost as marginalized.

Except that he was the only one who believed what was right, and she almost certainly believed in the wrong things.

"But it hardly matters," he said at last, finishing the arrow and settling back against a log with a sigh. "Better an interloper than one of the Ekaini. We need them."

Renna turned away, disappointed to find no comfort here either. It was shocking that the Zerui were so unfeeling. She looked down at a blade of grass bending in the wind at her feet and studied it in affected fascination, although in all honesty it was only a way to stall and get her thoughts in order. She did not think being murdered was any kind of honor, but she also knew that it was far too early to put it to him in those terms. He wouldn't understand. Instead she plucked the swaying blade and pressed it to her lips, then turned it over in her fingers. "...Is that why no one here accepts me? Because I won't accept your god?"

The words were slow, and her mind traveled far, far back in time, to a land so foreign to her she could scarcely imagine it. She did know, however, that the God she worshipped had probably been dark, like Izotz-although she would never say as much in polite Thiasan society. She also knew that her same God had had many not accept him, and he had never cast them aside like they were trash. Renna's words came even slower.

"....How can we accept what we don't understand? Why would we wish to worship Eguzki when you come and kill us and take us from our homes and treat us like we are soulless, unfeeling animals? What does Eguzki offer..."

All at once, a revelation came, and the green eyes widened as she let her stem of grass fall from her fingers.

"Pardon, your people are the ones who came to kill us first," Mikel said, casting a glance at her. It wasn't accusing, but sleepy and amused. Another smile stretched his face, as it always did when he was teasing someone helpless. This interloper might not really be blind, the odd color of her eyes aside, but blind, nonetheless, she was.

"Anyway, your people don't accept us because of our religion," he added, setting aside the jar of glue and covering it carefully, then wiping his hands on the trampled grass beside him before leaning back, his elbows on the log. "Some tribes closer to the border say they've met Missionaries, people who come to tell us that we'll burn forever in fire if we don't accept your God. The Ekaini at least are civilized enough not to actually try to kill us. But you probably don't understand--that interloper intelligence, eh?" His ebullient smile contrasted the harshness of his words.

She gritted her teeth, for once refusing to be taken in by a smile. "We aren't stupid. We do things differently. And it's true that we don't-we-" Renna fumbled for words. "We don't accept...you...but you don't accept us either, so I don't see that either of us is right. So don't look so smug."

The girl ripped another handful of grass, her brows knotting. "We're all human. We aren't perfect. I'm sorry that we came here and took your land, but there's nothing I can do about it. And I shall be sad when soldiers on either side die. But I will say that for as much as there is to admire about the Zerui, I find you....." She was going to say it. It was too late to stop the avalance. "Savage. Only the worst Thiasan would stoop to harm someone weaker than him, but here everyone does it. It's savage."

Renna looked at him, a defiant glare lighting her eyes. "Do you think that makes you somehow brave? I don't understand."

Mikel's brows drew together in true anger, and, slowly, he pushed himself up.

"You are talk about preying on someone weaker," he said rapidly, his tone normal, but his pained posture bespeaking the tension of anger. He arranged his crutch beneath one arm, fumbling a little, his breath coming faster than it had a moment before, from both exertion and pain. "And yet your people use fire-throwing weapons and metal magics on us. And weakness is no virtue. Do you have your weakest warriors as rulers?"

Mikel through his head back and laughed. This woman wasn't worth getting riled up, but she had confirmed his suspicions--interlopers couldn't understand the Zerui, and were brutal in their ignorance.

"There's no magic." Renna's tone was short. "Instead of marrying our sisters and sacrificing each other, we've been busy figuring out how the world works." She, too, stood up-and eyed him warily. "So don't speak to me about 'interloper intelligence.' For all your boasting, you're not the ones who figured out how to make steel. Or large ships. Or cannons. Or catapults. Or compasses, or glass, or...." The weaver stopped. This list would be endless. "I've said it already; I'm sorry we came here and interrupted our way of life. But you're not completely helpless. You kill many of us."

Then she sighed, and twisted her hands behind her back. "And we kill many of you. I know it. I'm sorry. If I had my way we'd all get along but, well, I never get my way. Sometimes I wish I weren't a woman, so people would listen to me every now and then. Although I suppose if I were a man I'd be as bloodthirsty as all men are. Bother."