Mists of Dawn (84 page)

One
by
one,
the
elders
of
the
Danequa
were
called upon
to
give
their
views
on
the
Mroxor
raid
and
what should
be
done
about
it.
There
was
a
great
deal
of talking,
most
of
it
ceremonial
in
nature,
and
it
went on
far
into
the
night.
Mark
noticed
the
thin,
pale
figure of
Tloron,
whom
he
had
not
seen
since
he
had
first come
among
the
Danequa,
sitting
alone
by
one
of the
fires.
Tloron
was
silent,
as
he
always
was,
and seemed
to
be
looking
into
the
flames.
What
did
he see
there,
dancing
in
the
night?
Mark
knew
that
Tloron was
a
holy
person
to
the
Danequa,
but
he
realized that,
oddly
enough,
he
knew
no
more
about
the
man now
than
he
had
known
the
first
time
he
had
met him.
What
was
he
like,
that
lonely
figure?
What
did he
think
in
those
silent
thoughts
he
never
shared
with anyone?

The
general
view
seemed
to
be
that
the
Danequa should
organize
a
return
raid
upon
the
Mroxor,
in order
to
punish
them
for
their
actions
against
the Danequa.
In
fact,
such
an
overwhelming
majority
of the
speakers
favored
this
move
that
Mark
was
for
some time
at
a
loss
to
discover
why
the
council
went
on
so far
into
the
night.
Part
of
the
reason
was
undoubtedly the
fact
that
the
meeting
was
ceremonial
in
nature. There
were
set
things
to
say,
set
procedures
to
go through,
all
of
which
were
time-consuming.
And
the Danequa
were
in
no
particular
hurry,
inasmuch
as •such
diabolical
inventions
as
watches
had
not
yet made
their
appearance
in
the
world.
If
they
finished in
time,
they
could
attend
to
it
tomorrow.
If
not,
the day
after
that
would
be
fine.
If
they
had
to
postpone it
a
week,
or
a
month,
or
a
year,
what
real
difference did
it
make?
One
time
was
quite
as
good
as
another,

But
that
was
not
the
whole
reason.
There
was
a decided
earnestness
about
the
proceedings
that
could not
be
entirely
explained
in
terms
of
ceremonialism. The
council
of
the
Danequa
was
clearly
doing
its
level best
to
reach
a
decision,
and
as
far
as
Mark
could see,
every
single
member
but
one
was
in
favor
of
the same
plan!

The
one
opposing
speaker,
a
middle-aged
warrior named
Dranqan,
maintained
that
they
had
already lost
more
men
than”
they
could
afford.
It
seemed
to Mark
he
was
not
unreasonable
in
his
position.
It
was his
view
that
the
time
was
coming
for
the
Danequa to
break
camp
for
the
winter
and
go
their
separate ways
after
the
herds.
They
should
not
waste
warriors in
a
fight
with
the
Mroxor,
which
would
after
all
not benefit
them
in
any
way.
Dranqan,
in
a
sense,
was the
voice
of
reason.
He
was
not
swept
away
by
proud feelings
of
revenge,
but
rather
was
taking
the
long-term
view
of
things.
Mark
suspected
that
Dranqan might
be
around
for
many
years
after
the
others
were dead
and
gone.