He couldn't avoid the risk, or the fear; all he could do was rage at the sheer injustice of it. Part of him knew that wouldn't do any good, but he couldn't help himself. He clung to his sponsor for what felt like an eternity, buffeted by the terror and impossible conflict. Hovan supported him, sharing what he could of the man's turbulence and offering strength to help him accept the rest. The Lords never asked the impossible--but they never asked anything easy, either, and this was only the first part of what Steve would have to endure. Still, Steve had already managed to endure loneliness a Traiti would have found unbearable, and had concealed his terror until he was urged to accept help; he would work his way through this. Gradually, the Ranger's emotional stability returned, and he knew that was due in no little part to Hovan's support. When the worst of his internal storm had passed, he felt purged--still certain he would die, but now accepting the fear instead of ignoring it so that it ate blindly at his confidence. He rested for a moment more, then looked up at his sponsor. "It's okay now." "You no longer alone are," Hovan said, releasing him. "As I you told when you adopted were, all Ch'kara you supports. Come now; you should something eat." The brisk return to a favorite, and practical, Traiti subject brought Tarlac all the way back to his current surroundings. "Food?" He thought of the earlier nausea, and shook his head. "I don't know about that, just yet." "It best for you is, after the medicine you took. Then, if you ready are, the Supreme and First Speaker will you receive." "Okay, I'll give it a try. That's one meeting I'm really looking forward to." On the way to the dining room, Tarlac had his first experience with the casual nudity Hovan had told him was an option in-clan. Except for ceremonies and parties, quite a few members did without clothes. Tarlac, warned, managed to feel only mildly embarrassed when a female wearing nothing but a carrying pouch slung over one shoulder stepped out of a side corridor ahead of them. She saw them and smiled at Tarlac, then hurried to embrace Hovan. He returned the hug before introducing her to Steve as Channath, the clan's chief physician. "She for you last night cared, when you sick were, and this morning's medicine prescribed." Tarlac gave her a rueful grin, trying not to stare. "Tell her thanks, would you?" "That not necessary is, but I will her tell." Hovan did so, and translated the reply. "She suggests, you little liquor drink from now on. And if you bad reactions to anything else find, her tell at once." "Don't worry," Tarlac said emphatically, "I will!" Then he was in the air as Channath hugged him. Back on his feet, surprised but too flattered to mind, he looked bemusedly after Channath's retreating back. "What was that all about?"