There was a knock on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Ascended One, it's me, Jantar. "

  “Come in.”

  His security chief entered the chamber. “According to Xan, your attacker’s name is Renna. He swears he knew nothing about her plan and he’s very upset about it. I'm inclined to believe him.”

  “The question is whether she is acting on her own or whether there are others behind her. There are three tribes in these lands. Could she be Renna of the Thirstaker Tribe?” The Thirstaker Tribe, with their horn-crowns and rigid discipline, were probably going to be the most resistant to his vision. Their chief, Bakalit, was known to be a difficult man.

  “It's possible.” Jantar agreed. “She could be working for them or the Burner tribe, or the Warden tribe - or none of them at all.”

  “I need answers. Keep questioning her. I want to know if anyone has paid her.”

  “Yes I’ll do that. May I speak with you about your security when the tribes get here?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Jantar was quiet for a moment as if he was collecting his thoughts. “Can I say that I hope your meetings go well and you achieve the result you are hoping for.”

  “Thank you. Is there something bothering you?”

  “It is possible that one of the tribes may not be persuaded to come around to your way of thinking, and if there is a problem you may have to make a quick escape.”

  “I see you’re planning for the worst.”

  “Yes. There is a secret passage beneath the Citadel. At the back of the cellar there is a door that opens up a tunnel."

  “I appreciate your concern.”

  There came the sound of a horn blast in the distance to herald a tribe approaching the city.

  “Thirstakers. They’re here.”

  Bakalit would want to claim the most auspicious ground for his followers. The horn bellowed again.

  “A need a horse! I have to greet him.”

  He left the chamber in search of a horse.

  A short while later he rode out of the city gates to find a procession of people and Honth wagons stretching back across the plain. At the head of the procession was a group of riders, and in their midst was thee tall, lean figure of Bakalit. He wore a black robe adorned with horns an a necklace of boars tusks. The man was handsome, with a tan and thick blond hair.

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  He rode forward and reined in a couple of paces from the other man's horse. “Chief Bakalit, welcome to New Trazia!"

  “So here you are Tal Eko! You are playing at being a king in this pile of rocks.” Bakalit gave off a sense of strength from large chest and muscular biceps. “I see you’ve had your lackeys sweep some of the dust away.”

  “The Old ones built a city of power and we are restoring it.”

  Bakalit shook his head. “Go ahead then. I see we are the first to arrive?”

  “Yes, you are.” Tal pointed to a wide, flat area of dry ground west of the gates. “There is a stream and good feeding there for your Honth. It is the best ground.”

  “That will do.” He gave a curt nod. Bakalit turned his horse around and rode back towards his tribe, shouting orders.

  Jantar rode up, along with two bodyguards. “Ascended One you should have waited for me. Your guards are meant to remain at your side, especially now."

  The politics of leadership were likely to prove as challenging as rebuilding Trazia itself.

  “I was called, Jantar. I could not let Bakalit wait.”

  “Master, you need to be careful at this time.”

  A horn cut through the air and he wheeled his horse about, his eyes on the road from the east. Swift horses carried another tribe toward the gates, their riders’ red flags snapping in the wind. These were the Burner Tribe, lean and hard-edged, their Honth-drawn carts lighter and faster, built for the endless motion of the plains.

  The vanguard of the Burner Tribe arrived and their leader, a tall warrior with a shaved head and a single, long warrior’s tail of braided hair, brought his horse to a halt. His skin was sun-browned and etched with deep lines. His red-dyed robes, cut for movement, were adorned with the claw motif of his people.

  “Chief Radaki. New Trazia welcomes you!” Tal Eko’s voice was even, projecting a confidence he was not sure he felt. A meeting of the tribes is due tomorrow!”

  Radaki laughed, a sharp, mirthless sound. “A Meeting of the Tribes? That is a strange idea. We are rivals with the others. I can’t think why we would gather in one place except to fight!”

  “The old ones were part of a united Ashok people.”

  “That is a very long time ago and things have changed! The Burner Tribe follows our hunt of game. We do not build stone walls around ourselves! We are hunters!”

  “Then why have you come, Chief Radaki?”

  “I came because I am curious. An invitation from a three-eyed dreamer in a pile of stones!” He gestured back toward his procession. “We’ll camp to the south, on the plains, away from the Thirstaker Tribe. I want to avoid trouble.” Wheeling his horse around, Radaki cantered back to his entourage.

  Tal waited on his horse and, as the sun was getting lower on the horizon, a third horn filled the evening air. This one was a more musical call, a series of clear notes that rose and fell like the call of a hoopo.

  The third group arrived in an orderly procession. Polished fangs and braided river grasses adorned their Honth. A woman rode at the head of their procession. She wore a simple bark-fiber wrap, her hair a cascade of elaborate braids interwoven with animal teeth.

  “Chief Whelay! May I welcome you to New Trazia!”

  “I received your invitation with interest, Tal Eko.”

  “I am very grateful that you have come.”

  “The spirits of this place are restless. The spirits say this city is a tomb for the ambition of the old ones. They built their towers to the sky and their greed brought them all down.”

  “Their fate will not be our fate.”

  “My people have their own ways. We do not bow to others. The meeting of the tribes may be a short one. We shall camp between the other two tribes. She wheeled her horse around and guided her people to their campsite.

  He watched the three camps being set up, the rivalry between them clear from the way they positioned themselves around the city walls. Bakalit’s horn-adorned tents formed a rigid, imposing block. Some distance away Radaki’s red-clad hunters had a sprawling, mobile camp. Whelay’s people were between them, their circular white tents standing out against the green grass.

  ”The tribes outnumber our Loyal Band ten to one. If they decide to attack, we will be overwhelmed."

  "We shall see, Jantar. The negotiations start tomorrow."