Breathing easily, since he no longer needed that deception, Tarlac listened to a growing murmur he wasn't quite sure was approval. He was reassured by Hovan's smile as he returned the dagger to his sponsor, then resumed his shirt and belt. He turned apprehensively to Valkan. How would this Traiti react? If he was one of those who opposed the adoption . . . He almost flinched when a clawed hand touched his shoulder, and the other clasped his right wrist. But there was no hostility in the soft, lilting voice that addressed him, and Valkan was smiling. "He says that you more dangerous are than you seem," Hovan translated. "And he says that if you not Ch'kara were already, his Ka'ruchaya might have wished, you into K'horan invite." Hovan was impressed himself. He had expected Steve to lose, if only after giving a creditable account of himself. That he had managed a win at all was barely believable; that it had happened so decisively would make this match well-remembered. And Hovan was less worried about Steve's chances in the Ordeal. Steve must truly be guided by the Lords. Tarlac returned Valkan's wrist-clasp and replied in one of the Language phrases he'd learned. "You do me honor," he said, and Valkan had: adoptions were unusual, perhaps five to eight in a year for an average-sized clan like the fifteen-thousand-member one he now belonged to. "But tell them all," Tarlac went on to Hovan in English, "I don't think I'd care to try it again. It's a stunt that worked once. I'm sure it'd never work a second time, and I'm not crazy enough to try it when they know what to expect." That, when Hovan translated, drew a roar of approval. These were fighters, stark realists all, who could understand and appreciate an honest evaluation of chances. Tarlac's statement, after he'd just finished a knife match unscathed and victorious, was taken as just such an evaluation. Those who'd bet on him had very good reason to be appreciative; they'd gotten excellent odds, and some would gain clan status for their daring in backing such an underdog. The losers were even more impressed by the human's victory. Even those spectators who still thought most humans incapable of honor were making an exception for Steve Tarlac. In a sense, after all, he couldn't really be called human any more. He'd been adopted by Clan Ch'kara and had proven himself in the matches, which was evidence enough that he was Traiti in spirit, if not in body. Once he understood it, Tarlac appreciated the sentiment, but he didn't share it. That evening, when he and Hovan were temporarily alone in the sleep-room, he admitted as much. "Hovan, I'm doing the best I can, but I'm not a Traiti. I'm human, and after that fight, I don't know if my best is going to be good enough."