Hunter Of Worlds

Chapter 15

THE MELAKHIS WAS in session, and the entire body of the nasul with them, in the great hall beyond the paredre. The paredre projected itself and a hundred Chimeles, reflection into reflection, down the long central aisle of the hall, and thousands of iduve gathered, a sea of indigo faces, some projections, some not. There were no whisperings, for the synpathic iduve when assembled used other than words. Takkhenes gathered thick in the room, a heaviness of the air, a possession, a power that made it difficult even to draw breath, let alone to speak. Words seemed out of place; hearing came as through some vast gulf of distance.

And for a handful of m’metanei summoned into the heart of the nasul, the silence was overwhelming. Hundreds, thousands of iduve faces were the walls of the paredre; and Chimele and Khasif were in the center of it. Another pair of figures materialized among those that lined the hall, Ashakh’s slim dark form and the shorter, stouter one of Rakhi—solid, both of them, who silently joined the company in the center. Ashakh’s presence surprised Aiela. The base ship had hardly more than made itself secure in the hangar deck, and here was the nasith, stiff with his injuries, but immaculately clean, bearing little resemblance to the dusty, bloody being that had exited the collapse of the basement. He joined Chimele, and received a nod of great respect from her, as did Rakhi.

Then Chimele looked toward the kamethi and beckoned. They moved carefully in that closeness of iduve, and Daniel kept a tight grip on Arle’s shoulder. Chimele greeted them courteously, but only Aiela and Isande responded to it: Daniel kept staring at her with ill-concealed anger. It rose in a surge of panic when he saw her take a black case and open it. The platinum band of an idoikkhe gleamed within.

No! was in Daniel’s mind, frightening his asuthi. But they were by him, and Arle was there; and Daniel was prisoner of more than the iduve. He took it upon his wrist with that same helpless panic that Aiela had once felt, and was bitterly ashamed.

Is this what takkhenes does to m’metanei? Aiela wondered to himself. Daniel hated Ashanome; indeed, he had not feared Tejef half so much as he feared Chimele. But he yielded, and Aiela himself could not imagine the degree of courage it would take for one m’metane to have defied the nasul.

Outsiders both of you, Isande judged sadly. Oh, I am glad I never had to wrestle with your doubts. You are simply afraid of the iduve. Can’t you accept that? We are weaker than they. What does it take to make you content?

Chimele had grown interested in Arle now, and gazed upon the child’s face with that look Aiela knew and Daniel most hated, that bird-of-prey concentration that cast a spell over the recipient. Arle was drawn into that stillness and seemed more hypnotized than afraid.

“This is the child that was so important to you, Daniel-kameth, so important that your asuthi could not restrain you?”

Daniel’s heart thudded and seemed to stop as he realized that vaikka need not involve the real offender, that reward and punishment had no human virtue with the starlords. He would have said something if he could have gathered the words; as it was, he met Chimele’s eyes and fell into that amethyst gaze, that chill calm without pity as m’metanei knew it. Perhaps Chimele was laughing. None of the kamethi could detect it in her. Perhaps it was a vaikka in itself, a demonstration of power.

“She has a certain chanokhia,” said Chimele. “Arrangements will be made for her proper care.”

“I can manage that,” said Daniel. It was the most restrained thing he could manage to say.

And suddenly the center of the paredre itself gave way to a projection, red and violet, Tashavodh and Mijanothe, Kharxanen and Thiane.

“Hail Ashanome,” said Thiane. “Are you satisfied?”

Chimele arose and inclined her head in reverence to the eldest of all iduve. “You are punctual, o Thiane, long-living.”

“It is the hour, o Ashanome, hunter of worlds, and Priamos still exists. We have seen ships rejoining you. I ask again: are you satisfied?”

“You have then noted, o Thiane, that all of our interference on the world of Priamos has ceased ahead of the time, and that all equipment and personnel have been evacuated.”

Thiane frowned, nettled by this mild vaikka. “There is only one being whose whereabouts matters, o Ashanome.”

“Then see.” Chimele looked to her left and extended her hand. Another projection took shape, a man in dark clothing, seated. His eyes widened as he realized where he was: he arose and Arle began an outcry, stopped by Isande’s fierce grip on her arm.

“This person,” said Chimele softly, “was once of Ashanome. We have him among us again, and we are capable of settling our own internal matters. We give you honor, Mijanothe, for the propriety you constantly observed in harathos. And, o Kharxanen of Tashavodh, be advised that Ashanome will be ranging these zones for some time. In the interests of the ban on vaikka which the Orithanhe set upon us both, it seems to us that it would be proper for the nasul Tashavodh to seek some other field. We are in prior occupation of this space, and it is not proper for two orith-nasuli to share so close quarters without the decency of akkhres-nasuli and its binding oaths.”

There was a silence. Kharxanen’s heavy face settled into yet a deeper frown; but he inclined himself in a stiff bow. “Hail Ashanome. We part without vaikka. These zones are without interest to us; we delight that Ashanome is pleased to possess them. It seems to us an excellent means of disentangling our affairs. I give you farewell, Chimele.”

And without further courtesy, his image winked out.

It seemed, though one could not be certain, that a smile touched the face of Thiane, a smile which was no longer present as she turned to stare at the being who stood in the shaft of pale light. Then she inclined her head in respect to Chimele.

“Honor is yours, Ashanome,” declared Thiane. She set both hands on her staff and looked about her at all the assembly, the confident attitude of a great power among the iduve. Chimele resumed her chair, easy and comfortable in the gesture, undisturbed by the harachia of Thiane.

And Thiane turned last to the image of Tejef in its shaft of light, and he bowed his head. All threat, all strength was gone from him; he looked far less imposing than Thiane.

“He is near,” said Chimele softly. “He is not held from joining us in the paredre: it has not been necessary to restrain him. Perhaps to honor you he would come to your summons.”

“Tejef,” said aged Thiane, looking full at him, and he glanced up. A low murmuring came from the nasul, the first sound and an ugly one. Suddenly Tejef tore himself from the area of the projection and vanished.

He was not long in coming, tangible amid the multitude of projections that lined the paredre. Isande’s mind went cold and fearful even to look upon him, but he passed her without giving her notice, though her fair complexion made her most obvious in the gathering. He stopped before Chimele and Thiane, and gave Thiane a bow of courtesy, lifting his eyes again to Thiane, as if the action were painful.

“Tejef,” said Thiane, “if you have a message for Tashavodh, I will bear it.”

“No, eldest of us all,” answered Tejef softly, and bowed again at this exceptional courtesy from Thiane.

“Was it properly done?” asked Thiane.

Tejef’s eyes went to Aiela; but perhaps to blame a m’metane was too great a shame. There was no anger, only recognition; he did not answer Thiane.

“You have seen,” said Chimele to Thiane. “Harathos is satisfied. And hereafter he is Ashanome’s and it is the business of the nasul what we do.”

“Hail Ashanome, ancient and akita. May we always meet in such a mind as we part now.”

“Hail Mijanothe, far-seeing. May your seekings be satisfied and your prosperity endless. And hail Thiane, whose honor and chanokhia will be remembered in Ashanome.”

“As that of Chimele among us,” murmured Thiane, greatly pleased, and flicked out so quickly that her echoes were still dying.

Then it broke, the anger of Ashanome, a murmuring against Tejef that sent him to the center of the paredre, looking about at them and trying to show defiance when they crowded him. Two dhis-guardians, Tahjekh and Nophres, drew their ghiakai and rested them point-down on the priceless carpets, crossed, barring his way to Chimele.

An iduve hand caught Aiela’s arm and the idoikkhei stung the three of them simultaneously. “Out,” said Ashakh. “This is no place for m’metanei.”

Isande took a step to obey, but stopped, for Daniel was not coming, and Aiela stayed, terrified for what Daniel was likely to do.

Get the child out of here, Aiela appealed to him. But there was chaos already in the hall, iduve bodies intruding into the projection area, seeming to invade the paredre, real and unreal mingling in kaleidoscope combination. Tejef shrank back, less and less space for him. Someone dealt him a heavy blow; bodies were between and the kamethi could not see.

“Hold!” Khasif’s voice roared, bringing order; and Chimele arose and the iduve melted back from her. An uneasy silence settled.

“Tejef,” said Chimele.

He attempted to give a hiss of defiance. It was so subdued that it sounded far otherwise.

“There is a human female who claims to be your mate,” said Chimele. “She will have treatment for her injuries. It was remiss of you to neglect that—but of course, your abilities were limited. The amaut who sheltered in your protection have realized their error and are leaving Priamos in all possible haste. Your okkitan-as Gerlach perished in the lifting of your ship: Chaikhe found no particular reason to clear him from beside the vessel. And as for karsh Gomek in general, I do not yet know whether we will choose to notice the inconvenience these beings have occasioned us. It is even possible the nasul would choose not to notice your offenses, Tejef, if you were wise, if you made submission.”

The oppressive feeling in the air grew stronger. Tejef stood among them, sides heaving, sweat pouring down his indigo face. He shook his face to clear the sweat from his eyes and seemed likely to faint, a creature sadly fallen from the whole and terrible man who had faced them onworld. To yield, Daniel had heard from him once, is to die; morally and physically, it is to die; and if ever a man looked apt to die from such a cause, this one did, torn apart within.

Tejef’s wild shout of anger drowned all the rising murmur of the nasul. Iduve scattered from his first blows, voices shrieked and hissed. Isande snatched Arle and hugged; the human child’s face against her breast, trying to shut out the awful sight and sound, for the ghiakai of the guardians faced Tejef now, points level. When he would try to break free of the circle they would crowd him; and by now he was dazed and bleeding. With a shout he flung himself for Chimele; but there were the guardians and there was Khasif, and Khasif’s blow struck him to the floor.

Daniel thrust his way into the circle, jerked at the shoulder of a young iduve to push his way past before the youth realized what had happened—and cried out in pain, collapsing under the discipline of the idoikkhe.

Pain backwashed: Aiela forced his own way through the breach, trying to aid his stricken asuthe, cried out Chimele’s name and felt the impact of all that attention suddenly upon himself.

“M’metanei,” said Chimele, “this is not a place for you. You are not noticed.” She lifted her hand and the iduve parted like grass before the wind, opening the way to the door. When Daniel opened his mouth to protest the dismissal: “Aiela,” she said most quietly. It was a last warning. He knew the tone of it.

Daniel rose, turned his face to Tejef, appealing to him; he wanted to speak, wanted desperately, but Daniel’s courage was the kind that could act: he had no eloquence, and words always came out badly. In pity, Aiela said it. Daniel would not yield otherwise.

“We interfered. I did. We are sorry.”

And to Aiela’s dismay the iduve gave back all about them, and they were alone in the center with Tejef—and Daniel moved closer to Isande, who clenched Arle’s hand tightly in hers, and gazed fearfully as Tejef gained his feet.

“Kamethi,” said Chimele, “I have not heard, I have not noticed this behavior. You are dismissed. Go away.”

“He had honor among his kamethi,” said Aiela, echoing what was in Daniel’s heart. It was important Tejef know that before they left. The idoikkhe touched, began and ceased. Isande radiated panic, she with the child, wanting to run, foreseeing Daniel’s death before their eyes—Aiela’s with him. It was her unhappiness to have asuthi as stubborn as herself—her pride, too. They were both mad, her asuthi, but she had accepted that already.

And Chimele looked upon the three of them: a kallia’s eyes might have varied, shown some emotion. Hers scarcely could, no more than they could shed tears. But Aiela pitied her: if he had disadvantaged her once before her nasithi alone and merited her anger, he could only surmise what he did to her now with the entire Melakhis and nasul to witness.

“Chimele-Orithain,” he said in a tone of great respect, “we have obeyed all your orders. If a kameth can ask anything of you—“

A tall shadow joined them—Ashakh, who folded his arms and gave a nod in curt deference to Chimele.

“This kameth,” said Ashakh, “is about to encounter trouble with which he cannot deal. He is a peculiar being, this m’metane, a little rash with us, and without any sense of takkhenes to feel his way over most deadly ground; but his chanokhia appeals to me. I oppose his disrespect, but I am not willing to see harm come to him or to his asuthi—one of whom is, after all, human as well as outsider, and even more ignorant of propriety than this one. I have borne with much, Chimele. I have suffered and my sra has suffered for the sake of Ashanome. But this kameth and his asuthi are of worth to the nasul. Here I say no, Chimele.”

“Ashakh,” said Chimele in a terrible voice, “it has not been the matter of the kamethi alone in which you have said no.”

“I do not oppose you, Chimele.”

“I perceive otherwise. I perceive that you are not takkhe with us in the matter of Tejef, that someone lends him support.”

“Then you perceive amiss. My m’melakhia has always been for the well-being of Ashanome. We have been able to compose our differences before, nasith-tak.”

“And they have been many,” said Chimele, “and too frequent. No!” she said sharply as Tejef moved. He came no closer, for there were the dhis-guardians between, and Khasif and Ashakh moved to shield her as reflexively as they always had. The closeness was heavy in the air again: oppressive, hostile, and then a curiously perturbing fierceness. Chimele glanced at Rakhi in alarm.

“You do not belong here,” she said, but her anger seemed smothered by fright, and it was not clear to whom she spoke.

Tejef moved nearer, as near as the ghiakai would permit. “Chimele-Orithain. You cast me out; but Mejakh’s takkhenois is gone and the touch of the nasul is easier for that, Chimele sra-Chaxal. I have always had m’melakhia for this nasul, and not alone for the nasul. I was nas, Chimele.”

Chimele’s breath was an audible hiss. “And your life in the nasul was always on scant tolerance and we have hunted you back again. Your m’melakhia is e-takkhe—e-takkhe and unspeakably offensive to me.”

A fierce grin came to Tejef’s face. He seemed to grow, and set hands on knees as he fell to kneel on the carpets. His gesture of submission was itself insolence; slowly he inclined his body toward the floor and as slowly straightened.

Arle cried out, a tiny sound, piercing the intolerable heaviness in the air. Isande hugged her tightly, silencing her, for Ashakh sent a staccato message to the three idoikkhei simultaneously: Do not move!

“Go!” Chimele exploded. “If you survive in the nasul, I will perhaps not seek to kill you. But there is vaikka you have yet to pay, o Tejef no-one’s-getting.”

“My sra” answered Tejef with cold deliberation, “will have honor.” But he backed carefully from her when he had risen.

“You are dismissed,” Chimele said, and her angry glance swept the hall, so that Tejef had no more than cleared the door before others began to disperse in haste, projections to wink out in great numbers, the concourse clearing backwards as the iduve departed into that part of the ship that was theirs.

“Stay,” she said to the nasithi-katasakke when they would as gladly have withdrawn; and she ignored them when they had frozen into waiting, and bent a fierce frown on Aiela. The idoikkhe sent a signal that made him wince.

M’metane, it is your doing that I bear this disadvantage. It is your doing, that gave this being arastiethe to defy me, to draw aid from others. Your ignorance has begun what you cannot begin to comprehend. You have disadvantaged me, divided the nasul, and some of us may die for it. What are you•willing to pay for that, m’metane that I honored, what vaikka can you perceive that would be adequate?

He stared at her, pain washing upward from the idoikkhe, and was stricken to realize that not only might he lose his life, he might in truth deserve it. He had Isande’s misery to his account; now he had Chimele’s as well.

And in the disadvantaging of an Orithain, he had threatened the existence of Ashanome itself.

“I did what was in me to do,” he protested.

Ashakh saved him. He realized that when the pain cleared and he heard Isande and Daniel’s faint, terrified presences in his mind, and felt the iduve’s viselike grip holding on his feet.

“Chimele,” said Ashakh, “that was not disrespect in him: it was very plain kalliran logic. And perhaps there is merit in his reasoning: after all, you found chanokhia in him, and chose him, so his decisions are, in a manner of speaking, yours. Perhaps when one deals with outsiders, outsider-logic prevails, and events occur which would not occur in an iduve system.”

“I perceive your m’melakhia for these beings, Ashakh, and I am astounded. I find it altogether excessive.”

The tall iduve glanced aside, embarrassed. “I comprehend the chanokhia that Tejef found in these beings, both human and kallia.”

“You were responsible for swinging the takkhenes of Ashanome toward Tejef—your vaikka for Chaikhe.”

Again he had looked toward her, and now bowed his head slightly. “Chaikhe is dhisais—as Rakhi can tell you: beyond vaikka and no longer appropriate for my protection. I understand what you did, since you did not spare Rakhi, for whom you have most regard, and I admire the strength and chanokhia of your action, o Chimele. You disadvantaged me repeatedly in your maneuvering, but it was in the interests of Ashanome.”

“Is it in our interests—what you have done?”

“Chimele,” said Rakhi softly, and such a look went between them that it seemed more than Rakhi might have spoken to her in that word, for Chimele seemed much disquieted.

“Khasif,” said Chimele suddenly, “can you be takkhe with this matter as it is?”

Khasif bowed. “I have brought you Tejef; and that vaikka is enough. He is sra to me, Chimele, as you are. Do not ask me questions.”

“Chaikhe—“ Chimele said.

“Orithain,” said Rakhi, “she has followed your orders amazingly well: but remember that she was scarcely out of the dhis when she acquired Tejef’s interest.”

Her lips tightened. “Indeed,” she said, and after a moment: “Aiela, the harachia of yourself and your asuthi is a disturbance for the moment. You did serve me and I rejoice in the honor of your efforts. You are dismissed, but you still owe me a vaikka for your presumption today.”

He owed her at least the same risk he had taken for Tejef, to restore what he had stolen from her, though every instinct screamed run! “Chimele,” he said, “we honor you—from the heart, we honor you.”

Chimele looked full into his eyes. “M’metane,” she said, “I have a m’melakhia for the peculiarity that is Aiela Lyailleue. Curiosity impels me to inquire further and to refrain from dealing with you as you have so well deserved. You are the only m’metane I have seen who has not feared to be m’metane among us. You are Ashanome’s greatest living curiosity—and so you are free with us, and you are getting into the perilous habit of taking liberties with Ashanome. The contagion has spread to your asuthi, I do perceive. In moderation, it has been of service to me.”

“I am honored by your interest, Chimele.”

Her attention turned then to Ashakh. By some impulse that passed between them, Ashakh bowed very low, hands upon his thighs, and remained in that posture until Chimele’s agitation had passed. He seemed to receive that too, for he straightened without looking up before, and slowly lifted his face.

“Chimele, I protest I am takkhe.”

“I perceive your approval of these outrageous beings.”

“And I,” said Ashakh, “feel your disapproval of me. I am disadvantaged, Chimele, for I do honor you. If you insist, I shall go arrhei-nasul, for my m’melakhia is not adequate to challenge you, certainly not at the peril of the dynasty itself. You are essential and I am not. Only permit me to take these kamethi with me. Arastiethe forbids I should abandon them.”

Chimele met his eyes a moment, then turned aside and reached for Aiela’s arm. Her incredibly strong fingers numbed his hand, but it was not an act of anger.

One did not often see the nasithi-katasakke on the kamethi level; and the presence of Rakhi caused a mild stir—only mild, for even the kamethi knew the eccentricity of this iduve. So it was not a great shock for Aiela and Isande to find the nasith greeting them in passing. Beside them the great viewport showed starry space, no longer the sphere of Priamos. Ashanome was free and running again.

“Sir,” the kamethi acknowledged his courtesy, bowing at once.

“And that third person?”

“’I am here,’” said Daniel through Aiela’s lips. Trouble, Aiela? What does a nas want with us at this hour?

Be calm. If Chimele meant harm, she would do that harm for herself, with no intermediary. Aiela compelled his asuthi to silence and kept his eyes on Rakhi’s so the nasith should not know that communication flickered back and forth: this three-way communication bemused one to a point that it was hard not to appear to drift.

“Is the asuthithekkhe pleasant?” Rakhi wondered, with the nearest thing to wistfulness they had ever heard in an iduve.

“It has its difficulties,” Aiela answered, ignoring the feedback from his asuthi. “But I would not choose otherwise.”

“The silence,” said Rakhi, “is awesome—without. For us the experience is not altogether pleasant. But being severed— makes a great silence.”

Aiela understood then, and pitied him. It was safe to pity Rakhi, whose m’melakhia was not so fierce. “Is Chaikhe well, sir?”

“She is content She is inward now—altogether. Dhisaisei grow more and more that way. I have felt it.” Rakhi silenced himself with an embarrassed glance toward the viewport. The body of Ashanome passed under the holding arm. For a moment all was dark. Their reflections, pale kallia and dusky iduve, stared back out of the viewport. “There is a small amaut who mentioned you with honor. His name is Kleph. Ashakh bade me say so: arastiethe forbids the first of Navigators should carry messages. This person was greatly joyed by the sight of the gardens of Ashanome. Ashakh procured him this assignment. Arastiethe forbade—“

“—that Ashakh should admit to gratitude.”

Rakhi frowned, even he a little nettled to be thus interrupted by a m’metane. “It was not chanokhia for this amaut to have delivered Ashakh in a helpless condition aboard the base ship. This being could not appreciate vaikka in any reasonable sense, save to be disadvantaged in this way. Has Ashakh erred?”

“No,” said Aiela, “and Ashakh knows he has not.”

The ghost of a smile touched the nasith’s face, and Aiela frowned, suspecting he himself had just been the victim of a bit of iduve humor, straightfaced in delivery. Perhaps, he thought, the iduve had puzzled out the ways of m’metanei more than the iduve chose to admit. Yet not even this most gentle of iduve was to be provoked: one had to remember that they studied gratitude, could perhaps practice it for humor’s sake. Whether anything then stirred the cold of their dark hearts was worthy of debate.

Let be with him, Isande advised. Even Rakhi has his limits.

“M’metanei,” said Rakhi, “I should advise that you go soft of step and well-nigh invisible about the paredre for the next few days. Should Chimele summon you, as she will, be most agreeable.”

“Why, sir?” asked Isande, which was evidently the desired question.

“Because Chimele has determined a vaikka upon Tashavodh that the Orithanhe and its ban cannot deny her.” The iduve grinned despite himself. “Kharxanen’s m’melakhia for a bond with the dynasty of Ashanome is of long standing—indeed, the origin of all these matters. It will go frustrated. The Orithanhe itself has compelled Kharxanen and Tejef to deny they are sra to each other; so Kharxanen cannot claim any bond at all when Chimele chooses Tejef for the kataberihe of Ashanome. Purifications will begin. One child will there be; and then this nas Tejef will have a ship and as many of the okkitani-as and kamethi as Chimele chooses to send with him.”

“She is creating a vra-nasul?” asked Isande, amazed. “After all the grief he has caused?” Resentment flared in her, stifled by Daniel’s gladness; and Aiela fended one from the other.

“They are takkhe,” said Rakhi. “M’metane, I know your minds somewhat. You have long memories for anger. But we are not a spiteful folk; we fight no wars. Chimele has taken vaikka, for his sra as a vra-nasul serve Ashanome forever; but the sra she will take from him under her own name as her heir will forever be greater than the dynasty he will found. Vra-nasul in mating can put no bond on orith-nasul So Tejef will make submission and both will keep their honor. It is a reasonable solution—one of your own working, m’metanei. So I advise you keep secret that small vaikka of yours lest Chimele be compelled to notice it. She is amused by your chanokhia: she has struggled greatly to attain that attitude—for if you know us, you know that we are frequently at a loss to determine any rationality for your behavior. We make an effort. We have acquired the wisdom to observe and wait upon what we do not understand: it is an antidote for the discord of impulses which govern our various species. I recommend the practice to you too, kamethi.”

And with a nod of his head he went his way, mounted into the lift, and vanished from sight.

Aiela, came Isande’s thought, Chimele sent him.

We have been honored, he replied, and expected argument from Daniel.

But Daniel’s consciousness when it returned to them dismissed all thoughts but his own for the moment, for he had suddenly recognized across the concourse a human child and a red-haired woman.

He began, quickly, to thread his way through the traffic; his asuthi in this moment gave him his privacy.