Free The Novels of the Jaran by Kate Elliott Page B

seven days with the jaran, she had come to have a great respect for the sanctity of tent and family. But the corral with the Earth horses was close enough to serve as a good observation post, and it gave her a legitimate destination. The man on watch was Sonia’s husband Mikhal. He acknowledged her with a shy nod and strolled away, leaving her.
    Tess leaned against the high side of one of the pair of wagons that formed the barrier and stared over it at the animals. She found it easy to pick out the Earth horses from the handful of native animals. What was the khush word for horse? Tarpan, that was it. The Kuhaylan Arabians were beautiful creatures by any measure, small, certainly, with delicate heads, huge eyes, and small, mobile ears, but there was strength in their line, in the elegant arch of their tails, and intelligence in their broad foreheads. No wonder these riders desired such stock.
    The sun sank below the horizon and one bright star appeared in the darkening sky: the planet Odys. Charles was there, deeply involved in his work, ignorant of this trespass. She alone could warn him that Chapalii had invaded Rhui, yet there was so very much space between them. Surely he had gotten her letter, and had put in a message to Dr. Hierakis at the palace in Jeds—put in a message, only to discover that she had not arrived in Jeds. Her disappearance would simply be another burden laid on him.
    The horses were quiet, but their movements spoke. They swished their tails. One stamped. Another snapped at a fly. Dappling the hillside beyond the corral, the mass of goatlike herd animals that provided milk and wool and meat for the tribe blanketed the grass. Something scuffed the ground behind her. She whirled.
    “I beg your pardon,” said Bakhtiian. He did not look very sorry. The wind stirred his hair and rustled the folds of his shirt, more gray than red in the half light.
    “You didn’t waste any time,” she replied, emboldened by seven days among forthright women. “This is the first time I’ve been alone.”
    “Indeed.”
    “Was there something you wanted to know?” Seeing his expression, she could not restrain a smile. “No, I don’t mean that as facetiously as it sounds. They are beautiful animals, aren’t they?”
    “Yes, they are,” he said fervently, distracted by this comment. He leaned against the wagon an arm’s length away from her and gazed with rapt intensity at the horses. “See the stallion—the gray—there. He alone is priceless. The black stallion is picketed out—” He gestured with a turn of his head. “And mares—thirty-six here, another hundred at journey’s end. It is not so long to travel, to receive such a prize.”
    “How long a journey is it?”
    He smiled, not at her. When he turned to look at her, the smile faded. “Your employers have not kept you very well informed, I see. It seems of a piece with so negligently leaving you behind at the port. And being surprised that you had followed them so far.”
    “Ah, well,” said Tess in khush, using a phrase she had learned from Yuri, “the wind has a careless heart.”
    “You learn quickly.”
    “I like languages. What will you use these horses for?” It was a casual question, thrown out to distract him, so she was not prepared for the sudden change in his expression.
    “To make war.” He did not smile. “Now. You are no interpreter. Why are you here?”
    She considered refusing to answer, but he was a dangerous man. It was better to choose her words carefully. “I am here to travel with the priest and his party.”
    “I do not think that they want you to travel with them.”
    “But I will travel with them nevertheless. Do you intend to make me leave the tribe?”
    “I have never had any such intention. I don’t have time, now, to get you back to the port from which you can sail to Jeds. You will be safe with the tribe until we return.”
    The implication of this reply took a moment to sink in. The breeze shifted,