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he boy； for whatever fort it might offer。
Urrish militia？ she wondered。 These warriors looked nothing like the dun…colored cavalry that performed showy maneuvers for Landing Day festivals。 Slashes of sooty color streaked their flanks and withers。 Their weaving； nodding heads conveyed crazed resolve。
A caravan…lieutenant bolted toward the stand where weapons were kept； mostly to ward off liggers； khoo…bras； or the occasional small band of thieves。 The trail boss shouted in vain as the young urs dove for a loaded arbalest…and kept going； toppling through the stand and skidding along a trail of sizzling blood。 She tumbled to a stop； riddled with darts； at the feet of a painted raider。
The expedition leader cursed the intruders； deriding their courage； their ancestry； and especially her own placency。 Despite rumors about trouble in far corners of the plains； peacetime habits were hard to break； especially along the main trail。 Now her brave young colleague had paid the price。
〃What do you want？〃 she demanded in GalTwo。 〃Do you have a leader？ Show her （criminal） muzzle； if she dares to speak！〃
The tent flap nearest the oasis lifted； and a burly urrish warrior entered； painted in jagged patterns that made it hard to grasp her outline。 The raider chieftain high…stepped delicately over the lieutenant's bloody trail； cantering to a halt just before the caravan mander。 Surprisingly； both of her brood…pouches were full； one with a husband whose slim head peered under the fighter's arm。 The other pouch was blue and milk…veined； bulging with unfledged offspring。
A full matron was not usually prone to violence； unless driven by duty or need。
〃You are not one to judge our （praiseworthy） daring；〃 the raider captain hissed in an old…fashioned； stilted dialect。 〃You； who serve （unworthy） client/masters with too…many or too…few legs； you are not fit to valuate this band of sisters。 Your sole choice is to submit （obsequiously）； according to the （much revered） Code of the Plains。〃
The caravan chief stared with all three eyes。 〃Code？ Surely you do not mean the （archaic； irrelevant） rituals that old…time （barbaric） tribes used； back when…〃
〃The code of war and faith among （noble； true…to…their…nature） tribes。 Confirmed！ The way of our （much revered） aunts； going back generations before （recent； despicable） corruption set in。 Confirmed！ Once again； I ask/demand…do you submit？〃
Confused and alarmed； the caravan chief shook her head； human style； blowing air uncertainly like a hoon。 With a low aspiration； she muttered in Anglic；
〃Hr…r…r。 Such jeekee nonsense for a grownuf adult to kill over…〃
The raider sprang upon the merchant trader； wrapping their necks； shoving and twining forelegs till the caravan chief toppled with a groan of agony； wheezing in shock。 Any Earthly vertebrate might have had her spine snapped。
The raider turned to the pilgrims with her head stretched far forward； as if to snap anyone in reach。 Frightened prisoners pressed close together。 Sara tightened her grip on Jomah； pushing the boy behind her。
〃Again I ask/demand…who will （unreservedly） submit； in the name of this （miserable excuse for a） tribe？〃
A dura passed。 Then out of the circle staggered a surviving lieutenant…perhaps pushed from behind。 Her neck coiled tightly； and her single nostril flared with dread as she stumbled toward the painted harlequin。 Trembling； the young urs crouched and slowly pushed her head along the ground till it rested between the raider's forehooves。
〃Well done；〃 the corsair mented。 〃We shall make a （barely acceptable） plainsman of you。
〃As for the rest； I am called UrKachu。 In recent （foolish） days I was known as Lord High Aunt of Salty Hoof Clan； a useless； honorary title； bereft of （real） power or glory。 Now banished from that （ungrateful） band； I co…lead this new pany of cousin…rades。 United； we resurrect one of the （great； lamented） warrior societies…the Urunthai！〃
The other raiders raised their weapons； bellowing a piercing cry。
Sara blinked surprise。 Few humans grew up ignorant of that name； fearsome from bygone days。
〃This we have done because （so…called） aunts and sages have betrayed our glory race； falling into a （reviled） human trap。 A scheme of extermination； planned by alien criminals。〃
From an abstract corner of her mind； Sara noted that the raider was losing control over her tailored； old…fashioned GalTwo phrasing； giving way to more modern tones； even allowing bits of hated Anglic to slip in。
The other raiders hissed supportive counterpoint to their leader's singsong phrasings。 UrKachu leveled her head toward the pilgrims； twisting and searching； then stopped before a tall； dark human male…the Stranger。
〃Is this he？ The star…demon？〃
The spaceman smiled back； as if not even bloody murder could break his good humor。 This； in turn； seemed to set the painted urs back momentarily。
Is this the （selected； sought…after） one？〃 UrKachu went on。 〃Sky…cousin to those two…legged devils we have lived among for （long…suffering） generations？〃
As if trying to perceive a new form of life； the crippled star…alien flipped the veil of his new rewq over his eyes； then off again； paring perspectives on the urrish marauder。 Perhaps； with meaning robbed from words； he found some in the riot of emotion…laden colors。
A new voice spoke up； as smooth and coolly magnetic as the warrior chief was fiery…fierce； answering from behind the mass of huddled pilgrims。
〃This is the one；〃 Ulgor assured； emerging from the tight…packed； sweaty crowd； stepping toward UrKachu。 Like the Stranger； she showed no trace of fear。
〃It is the （promised） prize； recovered from far…off Dolo Town。 Recently confirmed by a human sage to be one of the star…demons； not Jijo born。〃
While the pilgrims muttered dismay at Ulgor's betrayal； UrKachu's hooves clattered joy。 〃Those from space will pay （dearly） for his return。 For this they may offer one thing valuable above all else…survival for some （though not all） urs on Jijo。〃
Many things suddenly made sense。 The motive for this raid； as well as Ulgor's spellbinding performance on the storytelling platform； designed to keep the caravan crew inside while the Urunthai moved stealthily into position。
A slim shadow fell between the two urrish leaders。 A new voice cut in； speaking Anglic。
〃Don't forget friends； we'll be demandin' a bit more'n just that。〃
A human form stood in the torn entry。 Moving away from the late…afternoon glare； it resolved as/op； the Dolo Village tree farmer。 〃There's a whole list o' things we'll be needin' if they're to get their boy back； hale and whole〃…Jop glanced at the Stranger's scarred scalp…〃or as whole as the poor veg will ever be。〃
Sara realized。 He went outside to signal the raiders while Vigor kept us distracted。
A strange alliance。 A human purist helping urrish fanatics who named their group after the ancient Earthling…hating Urunthai Society。
A frail alliance； if Sara overheard rightly when UrKachu muttered sideways to Ulgor…
〃Would things not prove simpler without this one？〃
Tellingly； the painted warrior winced and shut up whe