Chapter One

The Second Bond

1 In the gray twilight of the early years, the hard earth was hot; and it trembled with the pangs of its troubled youth. That was the time the blood-driven bond was first called. It lived and thrived among the brutish men and walked in whatever dignity its nature found. It made no apology for what it was, nor was there a need. It was not a carnal thing inbred with moral choice. It had no flesh or bone - no natural wit or conscience to scorn or praise. Its portion was to adopt the hearts and be kindred in spirit with its hosts. Of itself, it never sang blithe songs of cheer neither the dull and melancholy laments of woe. It sang but a single song: the melody that the heart of its host most cherished - good for good or evil for evil. Being of a single heart with its new brethren, it jealously guarded and ruthlessly protected them, even to the death. It also held them immeasurably bound each to the other in that burning, inextricable nexus that sprang forth only from mutual passion or from one blood. In this bond's sway, no calling was found more urgent, no sense more compelling than the will and welfare of its clan.

2 By and by, as men grew, routine living became their way. Desperate, constraining passion, wielded by the impulse to survive, had little reason to be, and slowly began to wane with other useless things. Civilized law and common justice were necessarily becoming the guides of men. Villages nestled in the lush glens near the emerald stream-bends became havens for sojourners. There, the press for food and shelter had eased. There, even stro