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He took a deep breath as soon as he stepped inside the clanhome, making no effort to hold back a glad smile. "Gods, is it good to be home! I swear, even the air smells better here!" No one answered him immediately, for he was in Daria's arms then, surrounded by others waiting their turns at him with very little patience.
One way or another, this was his last mission as a Ranger. He'd told Hovan what might happen if he returned to the Empire with a clan and family, but he hadn't really expected to have to leave the only group of friends he'd known. That would be a wrench. Still . . . he remembered the feeling of belonging he'd had at the altar, and Daria's undeniable concern for him.
The hot mug between his hands gave off cinnamon-flavored steam. "I'm not very good at taking things on faith." "On faith? Your gods provide no evidence?" Daria's voice held faint disapproval. "They must be inferior gods, then." Tarlac had to agree. "Yeah. The Circle of Lords doesn't leave much room for doubt, does it? No wonder Hovan thought I was naive."
Ka'ruchaya Yarra, in her wisdom, chose to offer it, and I am glad." "So'm I. And it may mean I do have a chance of finishing." Tarlac grinned, unable to suppress a short-lived surge of hope. He'd been prepared to die to bring peace; just the thought of living to enjoy it, as Hovan was confident he would, was enough to make him reach out and take Daria's hand even as it faded. "Thanks, ruhar.
They were about thirty centimeters high, sculpted and colored with such artistry that they might have been miniature Traiti, perfect but unmoving. Then Daria's chant ended. Tarlac stepped back from the altar, crossed hands over his chest, and bowed. That ended the ceremony, and started the party.
The legs of an old chair." Daria's face fell. "I don't see why you come to tell papa you've found an old chair!" she said crossly. "Stop a bit, Matoushka. There's more to come. Where was I?" "The chair! You'd just found it," said Daria, pulling at his hand impatiently. "So I had. A chair! Well, it had no back, and as I pulled it out it felt heavy, very heavy.
Now he knew what the First Speaker had meant when she called him "child of two worlds" and he remembered that before his adoption, Arjen had accepted that Daria's telling Yarra about him had been no breach of security. The Lords, as Traiti clearly knew, told their Speakers far more than the Speakers passed on. But it seemed odd
Tarlac could sense the clan both as an empathic entity and as the individuals composing it: Ka'ruchaya Yarra's joy that one of her n'ruesten had been chosen to complete the Circle, Daria's exultation and love for him and their daughter, Hovan's deep pride that it was he who had adopted and then sponsored the Ranger . . . even unformed pleasure from the youngling in Daria's body, already a part of the clan's emotional life.
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