Earthborn (Homecoming) by Orson Scott Card

child, the second son.
    Husu opposed sending any sky people to risk their lives rescuing the Zenifi; in vain did Monush argue that the first generation, the one that had rejected all human association with angels, was surely dead by now. As they discussed the issue, with other counselors chiming in with their own points, Mon risked a glance at his brother. To his chagrin, Aronha was looking right at him, grinning. Mon ducked his head to hide his own grin, but he was happier at this moment than he had ever been before in his life.
    He turned then, to glance at Bego, but it was bGo who whispered to him. “What if a hundred die, for this dream of Edhadeya’s?”
    The words struck Mon through the heart. He hadn’t thought of that. To send an army so far into Elemaki territory, up the endless narrow canyons where ambush was possible anywhere—it was dangerous, it was foolhardy, yet the war council was arguing, not about whether to risk it, but whom to take on the raid.
    “Don’t ruin the boy’s triumph,” murmured Bego.“Nobody’s making the soldiers go. He told the truth and he did it boldly. Honor to him.” Bego raised his glass of mulled wine.
    Mon knew to raise his own glass of twice-cut wine. “It was your voice opened the door, Ro-Bego.”
    Bego sipped his wine, frowning. “None of your middle-being titles for me, boy.”
    bGo grinned—a rare expression for him—and said, “My otherself is beside himself with pleasure; you must excuse him, it always makes him surly.”
    Father proposed the compromise. “Let Husu’s spies guard Monush’s human soldiers until they find a way past the outposts of the Elemaki. From what we understand, there’s chaos among the kingdoms in the land of Nafai these days, and it may be far safer than usual to get in. Then, when Monush passes within the guarded borders, the spies hold back and wait for them to emerge again.”
    “How long?” asked Husu.
    “Eighty days,” said Monush.
    “It’s the wet season in high country,” said Husu. “Are we to freeze or starve? What is the plan?”
    “Keep five men there for ten days,” said the king. “Then another five, and another, for ten days each.”
    Monush raised his left hand in agreement. Husu raised his left wing, but muttered nonetheless, “To bring back worthless bigots, yes, I’m sure that’s worth the trouble.”
    Mon was surprised that Husu was allowed to speak so boldly.
    “I understand the anger the sky people feel toward the Zenifi,” said Father. “That’s why I take no offense at the mockery in your acceptance of my proposal.”
    Husu bowed his head. “My king is kinder than his servant deserves.”
    “That’s the truth,” muttered bGo. “Someday Husu will go too far and the rest of us will pay for it.”
    The rest of “us”? He must mean the sky people asa whole, thought Mon. It was a disturbing thought, that somehow the sky people would all be held responsible for Husu’s audacity. “That wouldn’t be fair,” said Mon.
    bGo chuckled softly. “Listen to him, Bego. He says it isn’t fair—as if that means it couldn’t happen.”
    “In the secret heart of every human man,” whispered Bego, “the sky people are nothing more than impertinent beasts.”
    “That’s not true,” said Mon. “You’re wrong!”
    Bego looked at him, bemused.
    “I’m a human, aren’t I?” demanded Mon. “And in
my
heart the angels are the most beautiful and glorious people.”
    Mon had not been shouting, but the intensity in his voice had stilled all other voices. In the sudden silence, he realized that everyone had heard him. He looked at his Father’s surprised expression and blushed.
    “It seems to me,” said Father, “that some of the council have forgotten that only those with the king’s ear can speak here.”
    Mon rose to his feet, hot with shame. “Forgive me, sir.”
    Father smiled. “I believe it was Aronha who said that when you dug in your heels, you were always right.” He turned to