A small rowboat listed on the sand of the beach. Two anxious sailors stood near it.

A nation strong, the Luzu people crowded on beach and bluff.

Near the boat, Master Nuk slipped from the pony's bare back, his wooden sandals failing to disturb even a single grain of sand.

The Master of Sinanju was tall but thin, his black hair lately touched with streaks of coarse gray. When Nuk turned to address the chief of the Luzu, his voice was loud enough for all to hear. He spoke in the language of their fathers.

"Sinanju would take its leave of you, fearless Chief Kwaanga of the Luzu," the Master of Sinanju intoned.

Before the lean man, whose face was the color of sand in shade, Chief Kwaanga drew himself up to his full regal height. The top of his head came only to the bridge of the Master of Sinanju's nose.

"I would grant you your leave, Great Master Nuk, he who graciously throttles the universe, from the fearsome House of Sinanju."

A nod that was not quite a bow passed between the two men. Afterward, Master Nuk looked out at the gleaming black faces of the Luzu nation. Though his words were directed at their leader, they were intended for his tribe.

"You are a wise and powerful ruler, O Kwaanga. Your people are brave and strong, your diamonds pure. You give your nation both physical strength and strength of character. The leader serves the nation and the nation, the leader. And Sinanju is honored to have served both." There was a hint of pride and sadness in the Master's hazel eyes. "Remember you this-though I now depart this land, if ever there comes a time when your people are in need of the services of Sinanju, you need but summon us. This is the pledge of Nuk, current Master of Sinanju, to you, Kwaanga of KwaLuzu."

And from his robes, the Master of Sinanju produced a small ceremonial dagger. Its cudgel was of ivory, its blade the purest gold. It had been given to the Master by Chief Kwaanga. Master Nuk returned the small knife to the Luzu leader.