She pulled back a bit from him, his cynicism chilling her. He shrugged at her, sensing that he’d almost offended her. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just for me that things always seem to go that way. I’m not the easiest fellow to get along with.”

She smiled at him. “You don’t seem hard to get along with.”

“I’m not, for the right people,” he agreed with her. His smile said she was one of the right people. He extended a hand toward her, palm up, an invitation perhaps. “But I have my boundaries. I know what is mine, and I know that it’s my decision whether to share it or not. And there are some things that a man just doesn’t share. In a group like this, with so many youngsters, that’s going to seem harsh or selfish sometimes. But I think it’s only sensible. Now, if I’ve hunted and been successful, and I’ve got enough for myself and some left over, then I don’t mind sharing, and I think I’ve the right to expect the same of others. But you should know I’m not the sort that will short myself for the sake of being nice to someone else. For one thing, I’ve learned it’s seldom appreciated. For another, I know that my ability to hunt is based on my strength. If I weaken myself to be a nice fellow today, perhaps all of us will go hungry tomorrow if I’m too slow or distracted to kill my quarry. So I protect my own interests today, to be in a better position to help everyone tomorrow.”

Tats leaned across her lap to speak to Greft. She hadn’t even realized he’d been listening to him. “So,” he asked conversationally, “how do you tell the difference between today and tomorrow?”

“Beg pardon?” Greft said, sounding annoyed at the interruption. His affability evaporated.

Tats didn’t move. He was practically lying in her lap. “How do you tell when it’s today and when it’s tomorrow, in terms of sharing what you have? At what point do you say to yourself, well, I didn’t share yesterday, so I was strong and hunted and got some meat today, so I can share this meat today. Or do you just keep thinking, I better eat it all myself so that I’ll be strong again tomorrow?”

“I think you’re missing my point,” Greft said.

“Am I? Explain it again, then.” There was challenge in Tats’s voice.

Thymara gave Tats a small nudge to get him to move. He sat up, but somehow he was closer to her. His hip pressed hers now.

“I’ll try to explain it to you.” Greft seemed amused. “But you may not understand. You’re a lot younger than I am, and I suspect you’ve lived by a different set of rules than we have.” He paused and glanced across the fire. Harrikin and Boxter had risen and were in a good-natured shoving match. Hands braced on each other’s shoulders, feet dug into the mud, each strained to push the other back. On the sidelines, the other keepers shouted encouragement to the combatants. Greft shook his head, seeming displeased with their lighthearted play. “Life seems different when you haven’t had to deal with people thinking that you don’t have the right to exist. When I was young, no one thought I was entitled to anything. I begged when I was small, and when I was a bit older, I fought for what I needed. And when I was old enough to provide for myself and perhaps do a bit better than that, some people assumed that they had the right to share in whatever I managed to bring down. They seemed to think I should be grateful that they allowed me anything at all, even to exist. So unless you’ve lived under rules like that, I don’t think you can understand how we feel. I see this expedition as the chance to get away from the old rules and live where I can invent rules for myself.”

“Is your first new rule to always take care of yourself first?”

“It might be. But there, I told you that you probably couldn’t understand. Of course, to balance that, there’s something I don’t understand about you. Why don’t you explain to us why you’re going upriver? Why are you discarding your life in Trehaug to set out with a bunch of rejects and misfits like us?” Greft made his question seem almost friendly.

Across the fire ring, Boxter triumphed. Harrikin crashed to the mud and then rolled away from him. “I give in!” he cried out, to a chorus of laughter. Both came back to take seats by the fire. The laughter died down, and quiet fell as everyone became aware of Tats and Greft staring at each other.

When Tats spoke, his voice was deeper than usual. “Maybe I don’t see it that way. And maybe I didn’t have the favored life that you imagine I did. Maybe I do understand you wanting to get away from Trehaug to a place where you can change the rules to suit yourself. Maybe most of us here are thinking to do just that. But I don’t think the first rule I’ll make is ‘me first.’ ”