Read Online Direct Descent by Frank Herbert - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frank Herbert
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door into the house.
“It’s Dornbakerish, I guess,” David said. “I’ll try again. I was tolled off to greet you because the PN wouldn’t miss the hunt. He’s getting old and he figures he doesn’t have many more. They’re running fallow deer on Big Plain. That’s why I’m here. I’m the Aitch Aye. That means I’ll be PN when the present PN goes upStone. Hep’s of the same line, a K-cousin. She …”
“What is a K-cousin?” Sil-Chan asked.
They stopped just outside the wide door of the house.
David looked at Hepzebah. She looked at David. Presently, she looked at Sil-Chan. “Just K-cousin,” she said. “It’s close. I’m of the PN’s line. One of my boy-children will be picked to succeed David.”
“You … have children?” Sil-Chan asked.
“Oh, no. I don’t even have a mate. And the PN’s angry at me, punishing …”
“The PN isn’t that petty,” David said. He opened the door, exposed a dim interior into which he motioned Sil-Chan. “My honored guest, Sooma Sil-Chan. Enter my abode and call it your own.”
“You know my name?”
“David signed the clearance for the PN,” Hepzebah said. She followed Sil-Chan into the house.
David brought up the rear and closed the door.
Sil-Chan stared at the room—long with a ceiling which reached away to dim rafters. Windows looked out onto the landing field and the wrecked jetter … more windows peered into shadowy woods … gigantic rock fireplace at one end, smoke-blackened. There was a smell of smoke in the room. Odd projections on the walls. Sil-Chan peered at them, realized they were the mounted heads of horned animals. There was a small fire in the fireplace. David crossed to it, stirred up the flame and added more logs.
Hepzebah touched Sil-Chan’s arm, said: “Come over by the fire and let me look at your shoulder. David, get a refresher, a good stiff one.”
“Right.” David walked off toward a door opposite the fireplace.
Sil-Chan’s mind reeled. This entrancing woman was not wed! David was Aitch Aye. What was that? Sil-Chan felt that he had read of such a relationship somewhere in the Library. Heir Apparent! Yes, of course. And Hepzebah was ‘of the same line.’ Gods of the universe! This pair was royalty!
“Come along,” Hepzebah said.
Sil-Chan allowed himself to be led to a low-backed divan beside the fireplace. Flames murmured in the logs. The smell of smoke was stronger here. He stumbled over something that rang musically.
“One of the children left a toy,” Hepzebah said. “David’s so easy with them.” She indicated the divan. “Sit down and take off your jacket. I’ll …”
“No, really. It’s all right,” Sil-Chan said. Again, he found himself trapped in her eyes—the soft look of them here in the shadowed room … like some forest animal. She’s not wedded. She’s not wedded.
“I’ll have a look all the same,” she said. She put a light pressure on his shoulder and he sank to the divan. It was soft, absorbing and smelled of animal.
Hepzebah bent over him, and Sil-Chan inhaled a mind-rolling musk of perfumed hair. He allowed her to help him out of his jacket and shirt. The jacket was torn at the elbow and he had not even noticed. His flesh tingled where Hepzebah touched him.
“Bad bruise on your shoulder and a scratch above your left elbow,” she said. She went to a door beside the fireplace, returned in a moment with a cloth which smelled of unguent. The cloth felt cool and soothing where she pressed it to his shoulder.
“What’s a trothing?” Sil-Chan asked.
“The trothers are the clan elders. They decide if a joining will be good for the clan.”
He swallowed. “Do you ever … wed outside your clan?”
She lowered her eyes. “Sometimes.”
Sil-Chan studied the soft oval of her face, imagined that face pillowed beside him. His mission, the Archive’s problems, Tchung—all melted into the distance … another planet.
“Drink this.”
It was David suddenly
“It’s Dornbakerish, I guess,” David said. “I’ll try again. I was tolled off to greet you because the PN wouldn’t miss the hunt. He’s getting old and he figures he doesn’t have many more. They’re running fallow deer on Big Plain. That’s why I’m here. I’m the Aitch Aye. That means I’ll be PN when the present PN goes upStone. Hep’s of the same line, a K-cousin. She …”
“What is a K-cousin?” Sil-Chan asked.
They stopped just outside the wide door of the house.
David looked at Hepzebah. She looked at David. Presently, she looked at Sil-Chan. “Just K-cousin,” she said. “It’s close. I’m of the PN’s line. One of my boy-children will be picked to succeed David.”
“You … have children?” Sil-Chan asked.
“Oh, no. I don’t even have a mate. And the PN’s angry at me, punishing …”
“The PN isn’t that petty,” David said. He opened the door, exposed a dim interior into which he motioned Sil-Chan. “My honored guest, Sooma Sil-Chan. Enter my abode and call it your own.”
“You know my name?”
“David signed the clearance for the PN,” Hepzebah said. She followed Sil-Chan into the house.
David brought up the rear and closed the door.
Sil-Chan stared at the room—long with a ceiling which reached away to dim rafters. Windows looked out onto the landing field and the wrecked jetter … more windows peered into shadowy woods … gigantic rock fireplace at one end, smoke-blackened. There was a smell of smoke in the room. Odd projections on the walls. Sil-Chan peered at them, realized they were the mounted heads of horned animals. There was a small fire in the fireplace. David crossed to it, stirred up the flame and added more logs.
Hepzebah touched Sil-Chan’s arm, said: “Come over by the fire and let me look at your shoulder. David, get a refresher, a good stiff one.”
“Right.” David walked off toward a door opposite the fireplace.
Sil-Chan’s mind reeled. This entrancing woman was not wed! David was Aitch Aye. What was that? Sil-Chan felt that he had read of such a relationship somewhere in the Library. Heir Apparent! Yes, of course. And Hepzebah was ‘of the same line.’ Gods of the universe! This pair was royalty!
“Come along,” Hepzebah said.
Sil-Chan allowed himself to be led to a low-backed divan beside the fireplace. Flames murmured in the logs. The smell of smoke was stronger here. He stumbled over something that rang musically.
“One of the children left a toy,” Hepzebah said. “David’s so easy with them.” She indicated the divan. “Sit down and take off your jacket. I’ll …”
“No, really. It’s all right,” Sil-Chan said. Again, he found himself trapped in her eyes—the soft look of them here in the shadowed room … like some forest animal. She’s not wedded. She’s not wedded.
“I’ll have a look all the same,” she said. She put a light pressure on his shoulder and he sank to the divan. It was soft, absorbing and smelled of animal.
Hepzebah bent over him, and Sil-Chan inhaled a mind-rolling musk of perfumed hair. He allowed her to help him out of his jacket and shirt. The jacket was torn at the elbow and he had not even noticed. His flesh tingled where Hepzebah touched him.
“Bad bruise on your shoulder and a scratch above your left elbow,” she said. She went to a door beside the fireplace, returned in a moment with a cloth which smelled of unguent. The cloth felt cool and soothing where she pressed it to his shoulder.
“What’s a trothing?” Sil-Chan asked.
“The trothers are the clan elders. They decide if a joining will be good for the clan.”
He swallowed. “Do you ever … wed outside your clan?”
She lowered her eyes. “Sometimes.”
Sil-Chan studied the soft oval of her face, imagined that face pillowed beside him. His mission, the Archive’s problems, Tchung—all melted into the distance … another planet.
“Drink this.”
It was David suddenly
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