Tarketios placed it over her head. He uttered something, naming the thing he had given her, but the word was only a strange sound in her ear. Lara had no way of knowing how precious the little lump was; it was the only metal that never tarnished. But by the look in Tarketios’s eyes, she could see that he treasured it, and that by giving it, he honored her.

Although she did not yet know it, already he had given her another gift. A new life was quickening in her womb.

The sun was well up in the sky by the time the little band set out. Upriver from the island, the hills to their right receded and the river made a sweeping bend around a low, flat promontory. The first landmark they came to was a little path that led to some hot springs near the river. In cooler weather the springs were a favorite place to make camp, but not at this season.

Larth was settling into the rhythm of the walk when he suddenly remembered the task he had assigned to Po before they set out. He looked over his shoulder. “Did you clean the blood from the path?” he said.

By the look on Po’s face he could see at once that his order had been ignored.

“Go back, then, and do it now!” he said, exasperated. “We won’t wait for you. You’ll have to run to catch up with us.”

Without a word, Po stopped in his tracks. He let the others pass him. He watched as the band continued onward, until the last straggler disappeared from sight.

The spear in his hand seemed to quiver. He looked down and saw that his hands were trembling. It was one thing to act on impulse-to see a deer and instantly spring into action, to cast his spear and then stab the creature until it was dead, with hardly a thought until the deed was over. To do what he was now contemplating was something altogether different.