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all that I learned in Jeds, for all the knowledge that lies in these khaja universities, we jaran are stronger because of what we are and because of how we live. The khaja can’t stand against us. They will never be able to. So the gods have gifted us. Would you like to have married in Jeds, instead?”
    A fulminating silence. “You know very well how they treat women in khaja lands.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “I don’t want to marry at all. I want to ride.”
    “Then ride. You are already married, Dina. The nine days have passed.”
    “I wasn’t in seclusion.”
    “That’s true. If you wish to go through the ceremony—”
    “I don’t!”
    “Then accept what you must. And you must have children. You know it as well as I do.” There was another silence, but this one had more of a despairing edge to it. “Dina, I have already been advised to remove you from command of your jahar.”
    “Who—!”
    “None of your business. Listen to me, damn you. You’re worse than I was at your age.” That brought a reluctant chuckle from her. “I won’t do it. You’re a good commander, and even if you weren’t my niece, you would deserve such a command. You will remain a dyan. But there will be times when you can’t ride.”
    “When I’m pregnant.”
    “Yes. Don’t you see, Dina? The gods never give out unmixed blessings. They gifted women with the knowledge that is also a mystery, that of bringing children into the world, but knowledge is also a burden.”
    “A heavy one, in this case.”
    “If you only had a sister to bear children while you rode, then that would be well. But you have none.”
    “I want to explore, like the prince’s man, Marco Burckhardt, does.” Said stubbornly.
    Bakhtiian sighed. “You have no choice, my niece. You will have children. I order you to. Do you understand?”
    “I understand.”
    “During such time as you can’t leave camp, you will work with Tess. Her work is every bit as important as Yaroslav Sakhalin’s.” His voice dropped into a coaxing tone. “Those maps you made together are very fine.”
    “Thank you.” Was there a slightly warmer edge to her voice? Was she melting. “Praise from Bakhtiian is as a blessing from the gods themselves—”
    “Stop that! Don’t mock me!”
    “Uncle … I didn’t mean … I only meant …” She faltered. Aleksi was amazed to hear her sound chastened.
    “Never show such disrespect for the gods. You should know better, you who only by the gods’ grace are alive today, when everyone else in our family died.”
    “My father didn’t die. You didn’t die.”
    “Go,” said Bakhtiian.
    Aleksi heard Nadine take in a breath to say something. Instead, she said nothing, and a moment later he saw her emerge from behind the tent and stride away out into camp, which he thought showed great wisdom on her part.
    “Aleksi,” said Bakhtiian, sounding no less curt. Aleksi started, and then walked around the corner to face Bakhtiian. Ilya turned from looking out after his niece to glare at Aleksi, and Aleksi wondered abruptly how many times he had been saved from a lecture—or worse—from Bakhtiian because of Tess’s implicit protection. “I don’t like it,” Ilya said, and Aleksi knew that he meant Aleksi’s habit of listening in. “Do it to others if you will. Don’t do it to me.”
    “I beg your pardon,” said Aleksi. “An incurable habit from my youth. It saved my life more than once.”
    “No doubt,” replied Bakhtiian. Aleksi could not tell whether he meant the comment to express sympathy or censure. “Nevertheless, not to me.”
    “I understand and obey, Bakhtiian.” He bowed, as they did in Jeds; Tess had taught him how to do it.
    “Go,” said Bakhtiian, but the word wasn’t as terse as it had been when he had ordered Nadine to leave. He might even have been amused.
    Aleksi escaped and, whistling under his breath, he considered the world while he made his way to the doctor’s tent. He decided that the world was a