"You should in bed remain," Hovan told him, concerned. "The medicine
more time than that needs."

"I have to get to the 'fresher." Tarlac tried again to stand, somewhat
more successfully, and managed a couple of wobbly steps. Then Hovan's
arm went around his shoulders, steadying and turning him.

"This way, ruhar. That door to the hallway leads."

"Okay." Tarlac was gratefuy for the guidance, but appreciated Hovan's
simple presence and his uncritical support even more.

By the time Tarlac finished cleaning up, the dose of whatever-it-was
had taken full effect and he felt considerably more able to take in his
surroundings. One of the first things he noticed was that Hovan was no
longer in uniform; instead, he wore civilian clothes, a silvery open
shirt with bright blue trousers and quilted mid-calf boots. A chain
fastened his knife to the sash that belted his trousers. He'd brought
similar clothing for the Ranger, in red and gold.

Tarlac put it on, seeing immediately that his badge was already pinned
to the shirt. Wearing something other than a uniform felt strange--he
hadn't worn anything else in public since the war started--but one
uniform certainly wouldn't last forever, and he still didn't know how
long the Ordeal would take. Or what it consisted of.

The clothes fit well, though sleeves and trouser legs were a good ten
centimeters too short by Terran standards. Apparently it was good
style in Ch'kara, though, since Hovan's fit the same way. Tarlac's gun
wasn't there, probably in storage with his uniform; instead, he'd been
given a knife very similar to the one he'd used in the challenge match
aboard the Hermnaen. "I gather you borrowed these from a youngling?"

"Yes. And Sandre them tailored, you to fit. Now come. Food ready for
you is, then I must your education begin. Much there is you have to
learn, before you the Ordeal begin."

"Such as?" Tarlac asked. Maybe he'd finally find out what he'd gotten
himself into.

"Forestcraft, of course, and--" Hovan broke off. "By the Lords! I
never did you tell, even of the parts I now can. I must your pardon
ask."

They were out of the infirmary, walking down a wide tapestry-hung
corridor. "You've got it, if you'll tell me whatever you can.
Wilderness survival is part of it?"

"Yes, and you know not this world's life. Then there the Vision is, if
you one granted are, and you of the Scarring know."

"Yeah, I hurt just thinking about tha