Read Online The Novels of the Jaran by Kate Elliott - Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Elliott
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regarded her skeptically but did not reply.
It was a shorter walk than Tess expected to the huddle of tents standing next to a makeshift corral of banked earth, stakes, and ropes. Far enough away from the main camp to give privacy to the foreigners, but close enough, Tess judged, for easy access. She recognized the tall, thin silhouettes of the Chapalii immediately. They wore plain brown tunics and trousers, but as always, the clothing could not disguise their gauntness or their pallor. There were other men as well, men of the tribe, but by and large those men were engaged in riding and currying and otherwise examining—horses.
“Horses.” The word gusted out of her in a sharp breath. She stopped stock-still far enough away from the tents that no Chapalii ought to recognize her. These were nothing like the horses that Bakhtiian and Yuri, and she herself, had ridden. She knew without question, with that instinct carried down over millennia of Earth generations, that these were Earth horses. The horses from the shuttle’s hold.
“They’re very fine, aren’t they?” said Yuri enthusiastically. “They are a breed called— khuhaylan. When Ilya saw the first one, two years back, and the khepelli traders told him that he could have a hundred more just for helping them search for the lost haven of their god, of course he agreed. They’re much stronger than they look. With such horses—” He went pale. “There he is. He’s seen us.”
“Chapalii,” said Tess in Anglais, watching one dark figure detach itself from a cluster of men and start with a determined and menacing stride toward them, “don’t believe in a god. Just in commerce and rank.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Come on, Yuri.” She started for the nearest tent, where a lone Chapalii had stopped to stare at them.
“But Ilya—” He trailed after her, glancing over his shoulder at the approach of his cousin.
“I have business with these Chapalii, Yuri, not with Bakhtiian, who, need I remind you, let me walk for three days without food or water, and then—by God!—then the first time he spoke to me in Rhuian, asked me trick questions to see if I was really from Jeds.”
Yuri murmured something indistinguishable behind her. Tess did not bother to ask him what it was.
Chapter Four
“Art is ever far better than strength.”
— MUSAEUS
“I GREET YOU WITH good favor, Cha Ishii Hokokul.” Tess halted in front of the Chapalii, whom she recognized as the one who had protested so vehemently against her presence on the Oshaki. A sickly shade of blue gave color to his face as he stared at her. Belatedly, he remembered to bow. Tess smiled. She was so angry at seeing him here, and at knowing that he had known all along of her plight, that she did not mind watching him squirm.
Eventually he found his voice. “May I be allowed to offer good greetings on my part, Lady Terese,” he said, his voice as expressionless as any well-trained Chapalii’s had to be, but the hint of blue in his cheeks betrayed his consternation.
“You may.” For a moment she let her anger get the better of her, and she lapsed out of Chapalii and into Anglais. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing on an Interdicted planet? Where your species is very specifically prohibited?”
He regarded her blankly. Of course, as a member of the ruling culture, he had no reason to learn her language. “Cha Ishii, I feel sure that you are well aware that you and whatever people are with you are violating the duke’s Interdiction order covering this planet. I think you must also be aware that I can have you stripped of all your wealth for this infraction.”
But his color faded, and he regained his pallor. “You are also in violation of this edict, Lady Terese.”
“I am heir to this system. If I choose to journey through my brother’s demesne, I do not need your permission.”
He flushed violet and then, looking up, went pale again. “But I comprehend, Lady Terese,
It was a shorter walk than Tess expected to the huddle of tents standing next to a makeshift corral of banked earth, stakes, and ropes. Far enough away from the main camp to give privacy to the foreigners, but close enough, Tess judged, for easy access. She recognized the tall, thin silhouettes of the Chapalii immediately. They wore plain brown tunics and trousers, but as always, the clothing could not disguise their gauntness or their pallor. There were other men as well, men of the tribe, but by and large those men were engaged in riding and currying and otherwise examining—horses.
“Horses.” The word gusted out of her in a sharp breath. She stopped stock-still far enough away from the tents that no Chapalii ought to recognize her. These were nothing like the horses that Bakhtiian and Yuri, and she herself, had ridden. She knew without question, with that instinct carried down over millennia of Earth generations, that these were Earth horses. The horses from the shuttle’s hold.
“They’re very fine, aren’t they?” said Yuri enthusiastically. “They are a breed called— khuhaylan. When Ilya saw the first one, two years back, and the khepelli traders told him that he could have a hundred more just for helping them search for the lost haven of their god, of course he agreed. They’re much stronger than they look. With such horses—” He went pale. “There he is. He’s seen us.”
“Chapalii,” said Tess in Anglais, watching one dark figure detach itself from a cluster of men and start with a determined and menacing stride toward them, “don’t believe in a god. Just in commerce and rank.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Come on, Yuri.” She started for the nearest tent, where a lone Chapalii had stopped to stare at them.
“But Ilya—” He trailed after her, glancing over his shoulder at the approach of his cousin.
“I have business with these Chapalii, Yuri, not with Bakhtiian, who, need I remind you, let me walk for three days without food or water, and then—by God!—then the first time he spoke to me in Rhuian, asked me trick questions to see if I was really from Jeds.”
Yuri murmured something indistinguishable behind her. Tess did not bother to ask him what it was.
Chapter Four
“Art is ever far better than strength.”
— MUSAEUS
“I GREET YOU WITH good favor, Cha Ishii Hokokul.” Tess halted in front of the Chapalii, whom she recognized as the one who had protested so vehemently against her presence on the Oshaki. A sickly shade of blue gave color to his face as he stared at her. Belatedly, he remembered to bow. Tess smiled. She was so angry at seeing him here, and at knowing that he had known all along of her plight, that she did not mind watching him squirm.
Eventually he found his voice. “May I be allowed to offer good greetings on my part, Lady Terese,” he said, his voice as expressionless as any well-trained Chapalii’s had to be, but the hint of blue in his cheeks betrayed his consternation.
“You may.” For a moment she let her anger get the better of her, and she lapsed out of Chapalii and into Anglais. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing on an Interdicted planet? Where your species is very specifically prohibited?”
He regarded her blankly. Of course, as a member of the ruling culture, he had no reason to learn her language. “Cha Ishii, I feel sure that you are well aware that you and whatever people are with you are violating the duke’s Interdiction order covering this planet. I think you must also be aware that I can have you stripped of all your wealth for this infraction.”
But his color faded, and he regained his pallor. “You are also in violation of this edict, Lady Terese.”
“I am heir to this system. If I choose to journey through my brother’s demesne, I do not need your permission.”
He flushed violet and then, looking up, went pale again. “But I comprehend, Lady Terese,
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