Read Online The Novels of the Jaran by Kate Elliott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Elliott
Ads: Link
out of the words, he smiled. By the lines in his face, she could see that he smiled a great deal.
“I have been known to have a quick temper. And I’m grateful for your people’s hospitality.” He nodded, satisfied, and she could not resist a question. “Did you learn Rhuian in Jeds, too?”
“No, no. Only Ilyakoria and three of his kin have traveled so far. But I have always liked other tongues, and I try to learn as many as I can. Most jaran speak only khush.”
“Then I shall have to learn khush.” Having said it, she felt a sudden consanguinity, not so much that feeling of having known someone before but rather of being certain that she would like him very well, and he, her. He smiled and excused himself, leaving her with Ishii.
Three other Chapalii had appeared from inside their tents. They merely stood at the entrance flaps and watched as Ishii bowed again, acknowledging that her attention had returned to him.
“Well,” said Tess to herself in Anglais. Her initial flood of anger had dissipated with Sibirin’s gentle words and she was better off for it, able now to measure with a cooler heart what she said. “Cha Ishii. You will understand very well that I am shocked and disappointed that you and your party, with the connivance of Hao Yakii and unknown others, have willfully chosen to violate the Interdiction of this planet by the duke. But perhaps your explanation will bring matters into a more positive perspective.” She folded her hands in front of herself in that arrangement, palm to palm, fingers of the right hand concealing the left thumb, known as Imperial Judgment.
A hint of violet colored Ishii’s face, but it was only a suggestion, paling to white. “We are pilgrims, Lady Terese.”
“Chapalii have no God.”
A swell of color flooded their faces. One of the Chapalii back by the tent put his hand on his belt. It was a threatening gesture, although there was no obvious weapon there. Cha Ishii raised a hand, and the other turned and went back into a tent.
“You gain nothing by insulting us, Lady Terese. I compliment you on your impressive and scholarly command of our language, but you cannot comprehend all of our culture. And whatever you may choose to believe about us, we have told these natives that we are a priest and his pious followers. It is a currency that they understand.”
“Pilgrims engage in pilgrimages. Where are you going on an unmapped, primitive planet?”
“The duke has satellite maps.”
“Geological maps, not geographical.”
“May I remind you again, Lady Terese, that if you endeavor to expose us to these natives, you will be forced to utterly overturn the duke’s Interdiction and meddle irreparably with their cultural development. We have merely asked for guidance and protection, offering horses as coinage, leaving no other trace of ourselves or our culture but our brief presence here. They believe us to be from an empire over the sea. It is a sufficient fiction to leave them unsuspecting. Any other, and you risk obliterating all the protections the duke has put in place.”
Instead of replying, she found herself listening. It was a quiet land; the noises of the horses and the hushed voices of the men tending them, a soft scraping sound coming from inside one of the Chapalii tents, and the high whistle of a bird, that was all—no background noise at all, except the whisper of the breeze through the tall grass. Ishii had her, of course, had the right of it. She could not compound their transgression with a worse one of her own. Perhaps they could manage an entire journey and scarcely mark the cultures through which they traveled. It was possible.
“As well, Lady Terese,” he added softly, and presumptuously, hearing some kind of submission—or admission—in her silence, “I am aware, as you must be, that the duke has had a handful of men traveling and mapping this world for the last twenty years, for what you call anthropological reasons, and certainly
“I have been known to have a quick temper. And I’m grateful for your people’s hospitality.” He nodded, satisfied, and she could not resist a question. “Did you learn Rhuian in Jeds, too?”
“No, no. Only Ilyakoria and three of his kin have traveled so far. But I have always liked other tongues, and I try to learn as many as I can. Most jaran speak only khush.”
“Then I shall have to learn khush.” Having said it, she felt a sudden consanguinity, not so much that feeling of having known someone before but rather of being certain that she would like him very well, and he, her. He smiled and excused himself, leaving her with Ishii.
Three other Chapalii had appeared from inside their tents. They merely stood at the entrance flaps and watched as Ishii bowed again, acknowledging that her attention had returned to him.
“Well,” said Tess to herself in Anglais. Her initial flood of anger had dissipated with Sibirin’s gentle words and she was better off for it, able now to measure with a cooler heart what she said. “Cha Ishii. You will understand very well that I am shocked and disappointed that you and your party, with the connivance of Hao Yakii and unknown others, have willfully chosen to violate the Interdiction of this planet by the duke. But perhaps your explanation will bring matters into a more positive perspective.” She folded her hands in front of herself in that arrangement, palm to palm, fingers of the right hand concealing the left thumb, known as Imperial Judgment.
A hint of violet colored Ishii’s face, but it was only a suggestion, paling to white. “We are pilgrims, Lady Terese.”
“Chapalii have no God.”
A swell of color flooded their faces. One of the Chapalii back by the tent put his hand on his belt. It was a threatening gesture, although there was no obvious weapon there. Cha Ishii raised a hand, and the other turned and went back into a tent.
“You gain nothing by insulting us, Lady Terese. I compliment you on your impressive and scholarly command of our language, but you cannot comprehend all of our culture. And whatever you may choose to believe about us, we have told these natives that we are a priest and his pious followers. It is a currency that they understand.”
“Pilgrims engage in pilgrimages. Where are you going on an unmapped, primitive planet?”
“The duke has satellite maps.”
“Geological maps, not geographical.”
“May I remind you again, Lady Terese, that if you endeavor to expose us to these natives, you will be forced to utterly overturn the duke’s Interdiction and meddle irreparably with their cultural development. We have merely asked for guidance and protection, offering horses as coinage, leaving no other trace of ourselves or our culture but our brief presence here. They believe us to be from an empire over the sea. It is a sufficient fiction to leave them unsuspecting. Any other, and you risk obliterating all the protections the duke has put in place.”
Instead of replying, she found herself listening. It was a quiet land; the noises of the horses and the hushed voices of the men tending them, a soft scraping sound coming from inside one of the Chapalii tents, and the high whistle of a bird, that was all—no background noise at all, except the whisper of the breeze through the tall grass. Ishii had her, of course, had the right of it. She could not compound their transgression with a worse one of her own. Perhaps they could manage an entire journey and scarcely mark the cultures through which they traveled. It was possible.
“As well, Lady Terese,” he added softly, and presumptuously, hearing some kind of submission—or admission—in her silence, “I am aware, as you must be, that the duke has had a handful of men traveling and mapping this world for the last twenty years, for what you call anthropological reasons, and certainly
Similar Books
