Rabbit shrugged. “I prefer living on board a ship,” he said. “A steady drizzle of pine needles might be sort of irritating after a while.”

“They would keep the streets—if you could call them streets—from turning into mud when the rainy season rolls in,” Keselo pointed out.

The center of the village had several structures that were quite a bit larger than Rabbit had seen to the south in Zelana’s Domain. “Are they trying to build palaces?” he asked Longbow.

“Not really,” his friend replied. “Those are what the Tonthakans call ‘Nation Lodges.’ It’s part of what emerged when Dahlaine established what he calls ‘the Nations’ as a way to put an end to the tribal wars. The Tonthakans are supposed to talk rather than fight. There are three groups of tribes here, and they have general meetings every five years. There are ‘Nation Lodges’ here, others in a village to the north, and more in a village in the mountains. Any time a disagreement occurs, they gather in those ‘Nation Lodges’ and talk at each other until they reach some sort of agreement. Athlan told me about a meeting that lasted for three years on one occasion.”

“Three years?” Rabbit exclaimed.

“I think they forgot what they were arguing about after about six months, but they kept on talking anyway. They finally agreed that they’d think about it and then get together again. From what Athlan told me, I guess the subject never came up again.”

“That’s ridiculous, Longbow.”

“Maybe so, but nobody was killed. I think that was what Dahlaine had in mind in the first place. As long as people are talking instead of fighting, nobody loses very much blood—unless he happens to bite his tongue.”

They entered one of the large structures, and there was a tall, grim-faced native of middle years with silver-touched hair waiting there.

“What’s going on off to the north, Kathlak?” Dahlaine asked.

“We don’t really know for sure, Dahlaine,” the native replied. “The northern tribes keep shouting about ‘insults’ and ‘violations,’ but they refuse to be specific. They seem to think that somebody from one of the southern tribes did something that’s forbidden, but they won’t tell us who it was or what he did. Of course, it’s a little hard to hear what they’re saying, because they won’t come within bow range of any of our people, and they start howling threats if we try to get anywhere near them.”

“I seem to be catching a faint smell of tampering here, big brother,” Zelana said. “Somebody appears to be just a little bit unhappy with your ‘nation’ concept.” She frowned. “I’d almost suggest that it might be one of the servants of the Vlagh, but wouldn’t that be just a little complicated for them?”

“I wouldn’t swear to that, sister. They’re developing much faster than any of us thought was possible. If they can somehow manage to stir up some intertribal wars, they might be able to use that to their advantage. I’m not going to discard any possibilities at this point.”

“I think maybe I’ll drift on up to that part of your Domain, brother mine, and see what I can pick up.”

“That’s my responsibility, Zelana,” Dahlaine objected.

“It’s mine as well, Dahlaine,” she said, “and I can move around more quietly than you can. I’m sure that your pet thunderbolt is very nice and terribly impressive, but she’s noisy. I’ll ride the wind, and none of the people up there will even know that I’m around.”

“You’re going to insist, I take it.”

“How terribly perceptive of you, dear brother,” she said, fondly patting his cheek.

And then she was gone.

“It’s something Rabbit came up with during the war in Zelana’s Domain last spring,” Longbow explained to Athlan and Kathlak. “Sorgan Hook-Beak called it ‘a lumpy map,’ and it turned out to be very useful. Red-Beard had been hunting in that ravine for years, and he knew exactly where every streambed and outcropping of rock was located. It saved a lot of lives.”

“Where did you come up with that idea, Rabbit?” Athlan asked curiously.

“I’d been making molds for arrowheads out of clay,” Rabbit explained, “and when Red-Beard told the cap’n and Commander Narasan that a flat map didn’t have enough details, I suggested that he could add the details he thought we’d need if he carved the map out of clay instead of drawing it with a pen. That’s when Red-Beard started building a little duplicate of the ravine. It showed us exactly where everything was up there—how steep the slopes were, how wide the river was, and all sorts of other things. We all studied it, so we knew almost as much as Red-Beard did about that ravine. Things went pretty well—right up to the time when we found out that the bug-people had been burrowing tunnels in that area for centuries. That really worried us, but it turned out to be their mistake instead of ours. The fire-mountains filled those tunnels with boiling rock, and that cooked thousands of our enemies.”

“I’ve heard about ‘fire-mountains’ a few times,” Kathlak said. “Do they really spout liquid rock hundreds of feet up into the air like some people told me?”

“I’d say that ‘hundreds of feet’ doesn’t even come close,” Longbow said with a slight smile. “Five miles would be more accurate.”

“I’ve never seen one of them,” Kathlak admitted.

“You’ve been lucky, then,” Rabbit told him. “It’s one of those things that you don’t want to see—particularly when it’s uphill from the place where you’re standing.”

“Did fire help you win the second war as well?” Athlan asked curiously.

“Not all that much,” Longbow said. “Water was more important in that war. The first war was fairly simple. The second one was very complicated.”

“You won, though, didn’t you?”

“I’m not really sure,” Longbow replied. “Our main job that time involved getting out of the way. It seems that we have a friend who can make very peculiar things happen.”

“What’s your friend’s name, Longbow?” Kathlak asked.

“I really don’t know, but when she says ‘get out of the way,’ you’d better start running.”

“It’s a woman?” Kathlak sounded startled. “Can a woman actually do things like that?”