He met the eldest's gaze once more, and nodded slowly.

"Yes, Pyav," he said. "If need be, I'll kill her."

The blacksmith's eyes widened, but Besh didn't give him a chance to speak.

"You think me old, kindly, a good man. And I may be all of those things. But I've been a husband and a father and now a grandfather. I would have killed to protect Ema and Elica. I'd kill today to keep Mihas safe. Lici is a threat not only to the Y'Qatt, but also to the Mettai. Our people are hated enough without some madwoman menacing the land using blood magic to destroy villages." He pulled his knife free and dragged the blade across the back of his hand. Blood began to flow from the wound, spreading into the fine lines that time had etched into his brown skin. Making a fist, he held up his hand for the eldest to see. "I swear this oath to you, Pyav-Mettai to Mettai, friend to friend, elder to eldest-if Lici can be stopped, I'll stop her. I won't return to our village until I've made good my oath." He lowered his hand, never taking his eyes off the eldest, and licked away the blood before returning his knife to its sheath.

Pyav shook his head slowly. "I fear you're nearly as mad as she is, making an oath like that."

Besh grinned, feeling his face color. He'd offered the blood oath on impulse-it wasn't at all something he would usually have done. But according to Mettai law, once made, such an oath could only be broken on pain of death. And that was all right, because when Elica heard of what he had done, she'd probably kill him.

"Is it madness wanting to protect my family and my people?"

"In this case, yes."

"Why? Because I'm old?"

Pyav nodded. "Because you're old. Because Lici is quite likely insane. Because you don't know where she is, or where she might go next. Blood and bone, Besh! This is mad in so many different ways I hardly know where to begin!" He rubbed a hand over his face. "And now I have no choice but to let you go."

"You could kill me and save Elica the trouble."

The eldest stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "I'd forgotten about Elica. And here I thought that Lici was the dangerous one."

Besh shook his head. "After facing my daughter, going after Lici will be like paddling downstream."

Pyav's smile faded slowly. "I should go with you," he said after some time.

"No. I'm going precisely so that no one else will have to. I'll go alone."

"You have a better chance of succeeding if someone is with you. If this is as important as you say it is, you'll let me accompany you."

Besh could hear the frustration in the blacksmith's voice. The blood oath, he realized, had changed everything. It was up to Besh now to decide how he was to fulfill his vow; just as Besh would be put to death if he failed, another Mettai was subject to the same punishment if he or she did anything to interfere. Though Pyav was eldest, he was powerless in this matter.

"As I've already said, you're needed here."

"And you're a stubborn fool." Pyav shook his head again. "Will you at least allow me to give you some food to take along? The village owes you that much."

"Gladly. Thank you, Eldest."

"You won't like this idea, but you may need some gold as well. I'd suggest you take it from Lici's house."

Besh considered this. He'd fought long and hard to keep anyone from taking the old woman's coins. But knowing what he did now about all she had done, he felt justified in making an exception. He nodded once. "I'll do that," he said. "Tonight, after dark."

"Good." Abruptly, it seemed that Pyav didn't know what to say. "When will you go?" he finally asked.

"Tomorrow, with first light."

"What would you have me tell the others?" "The other elders, you mean?"

"The elders, the rest of the villagers. Whoever asks."

Besh shrugged. "Tell them whatever you think is best. The truth is fine as far as I'm concerned, but I'll leave that to you."

"Very well." They fell into another awkward silence until at last the eldest extended a meaty hand. Besh took it, and Pyav placed his other hand over Besh's, which looked tiny by comparison. "Gods keep you safe, Besh, and return you to us."

"Thank you, Eldest."

"I'll have the food brought to your home before dark."

"Not too much," Besh said. "I'll have only the one carry sack." He grinned. "And after all, I'm an old man."

Pyav grinned in return. "I'll try to keep that in mind." He released Besh's hand. " 'Til we meet again, Besh."

"Be well, Eldest. May the gods smile on you and your family and keep our village safe."

He turned away and started toward his home, wondering if this would be the last time he made this walk.

Cam was playing out front when he came within sight of the house. It was early still for Mihas and Annze to be back from their lessons.

"Grandfather!" the boy cried out, running to him. Besh found himself blinking back tears. Somehow he'd managed to convince himself that he wasn't needed, but what about his own needs? Perhaps it wasn't Elica who was going to kill him; perhaps it was the simple act of walking away from this house and this family.

"Where have you been, Grandfather?" the boy asked, as Besh lifted him into his arms. "Were you at Lici's house again?"

"I was," he said, making himself smile. "And then I went to speak with the eldest."

"Father helped me make a fishing stick. Do you wanna see?" "Yes, of course."

The boy smiled. "Maybe you can take me fishing later."

His eyes stung. "We'll have to see about that, all right?"

"All right."

He put the boy down and followed him to where the fishing pole rested in the grass. It was a simple pole, much like those Besh himself had made for Elica when she was a girl, and for Mihas when he was

Cam 's age.

"That's a fine fishing pole," he said.

"It's a fishing stick," Cam said, looking up at him.

"What's the difference?"

"Everybody has fishing poles. Mine's a fishing stick. That's what I call it."

Besh laughed.

Elica came out of the house and glanced in their direction. "I see you've found the fishing stick," she said, walking to the woodpile and gathering kindling for the cooking fire.

"Yes, I have." He looked down at Cam, who was holding the pole, pretending to fish. "I need to speak with your mother," he said, tousling the boy's dark hair. It was as soft as corn silk and as black as raven feathers. Will I ever touch this head again?

Cam nodded without even looking up. "All right."

Besh joined Elica by the woodpile and began gathering branches, all the while ignoring his daughter, who was staring at him.

"So?" she said at last. "You have something to say to me?"

"Inside," he said, turning away, climbing the stairs, and stepping into the house.

Elica was just behind him. "Is it the pestilence?" she asked, upon closing the door behind her. The house was dark with the door shut, and her eyes shone with the faint gleam from the single window opposite the hearth. "Everyone's talking about it in the marketplace. It is, isn't it?"

"No," Besh said. "It's not the pestilence. It's Lici."

She scowled at him. "Not this again."

"Listen to me. When Lici was a young girl the pestilence ravaged her village, killing her family and nearly everyone else she knew. She managed to survive and she went for help. She wound up finding an Y'Qatt village, and they refused to help her."

"Father, I don't-"

"Keep quiet and listen!" he said sharply.

She glared at him, but held her tongue.

"This talk of the pestilence in the north isn't groundless-there is something. It began not long after Lici left here, and as far as we can tell, the disease has only struck at Y'Qatt villages, all of them close to Sentaya, the village in which she was born."