Kate Elliott - Jaran

"Is that meant to be a compliment?" she asked, a little sarcastically, and regretted it instantly. He turned and with that breathtaking sweep of grace mounted and cantered away to speak to Niko Sibirin.

Later, when the call came to ride, in khush, she understood it, mounting before it was repeated in Rhuian for the Chapalii. She fell in beside Bakhtiian.

"You learn our tongue," he said in khush.

"Only a small portion," she replied in the same. "Only a gentle breeze yet." She smiled, loving language and the way in which each language grew out of its environment.

"You learn," said Bakhtiian.

That afternoon when they paused just below the top of a rise and Bakhtiian simply sat, staring at the expanse of grass and sky that surrounded them, Tess grew impatient with his silence.

"What do you see?"

He looked at her. "What do you see?"

Tess laughed, unable not to in acknowledgment of her own ignorance. "I see grass, and more grass, a few low rises but mostly flat land, and a very blue, almost purple-blue sky. And the sun."

"What about the clouds, there?"

"There at the edge of the horizon? Yes, those, too."

"Clouds can mean rain."

She refused to take his bait. "I suppose they can, if you know what kind of clouds bring rain, and how fast the wind is traveling, and in what direction. I don't know those things."

His lips tugged upward slightly, but he did not smile. "A jahar, about twelve men, passed this way two days ago. They camped down below us. Do you see how the grass hasn't yet risen to its full height there? A piece of leather was left behind. No fire. They're riding for speed or secrecy."

Tess stared down, but she could not see any of these signs. Except-perhaps-she could see the slight depression in the tall grass, grass that, in a rough semicircle, was not quite as high as the surrounding stems.

"There," he continued, "you see that khoen."

"Khoen?"

"The rocks at the top of the rise."

She looked again, and there, now that she was looking, she saw a pile of rocks half hidden by the grass. Such a structure could not be natural, three flat rocks arranged in a triangle, with six smaller stones, chipped into rough shapes, placed in a cross pattern in the center. "What is it?"

"The passing jaran build these, to mark their way for themselves and to record their passing for others. This one-" He hesitated. Tess waited. His mouth turned down, giving him a severe, stubborn expression. "We'd better return to the jahar."

"Why?"

For an instant she thought he meant to chastise her for questioning his orders, but he was merely leaning forward to stare at the sky where a flock of birds wheeled and drove, chattering, for the sun. His lips moved. She knew enough khush to recognize that he was counting under his breath. "There is a dyan called Doroskayev," he said aloud, settling back into his saddle and starting forward. "He wants to prevent me from uniting the jaran. This was his jahar, or part of his jahar, that rode this way. That means we are near each other. I had hoped to avoid anyone so far north this early in the year."

Tess urged Myshla after him. "If you meet him, what will happen?"

"We will fight, his riders and mine."

He said it matter-of-factly. Tess felt as if a stone had dropped into her stomach. They would fight-and where would she be? Lord, and what would Cha Ishii do, faced with such a battle? "I've been a fool," she muttered under her breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I just wondered," she said quickly. "You said before that you'd gotten these horses to make war. Is this the war you meant?"

"Not at all. Doroskayev, and a few other men, are simply obstacles in my path." The flock of birds, still screaming, swept back over them, low, their tiny shadows dotting the earth. His eyes followed them again, and he smiled to himself. "My war is against all the khaja. All the settled people. I mean to sweep them off the plains forever. And once they are driven off the plains, once all the khaja lands bordering the plains are subject to us, then we need fear the khaja no more."

"Do you fear them now?"

"My people fear them." He glanced at her. "But I do not. I have been to Jeds, and I have seen that even the best and the wisest of the khaja are no different than us. What they have, we can have as well."

That night no fire was built, and double guards were posted. Tess and Yuri watched the Chapalii putting up their tents, and caught the tail end of an exchange in which Bakhtiian attempted to convince Ishii that speed and stealth necessitated no tents at all. The tents went up, but when Bakhtiian left, Tess thought he looked more thoughtful than annoyed. She strolled over and greeted Ishii in formal Chapalii. Yuri tagged at her heels.

Ishii bowed. "Your endurance is commendable, Lady Terese."

"I welcome your compliments, Cha Ishii. But I am surprised that you set your tents under such circumstances."

He bowed again. ' 'We cannot sleep in this open air, Lady Terese. Surely you appreciate the physiological differences that demand we maintain some period of rest in atmospheres altered to suit our metabolism."

"Within those tents?" Tess asked, suddenly acutely curious to go inside one. The four tents looked common enough-a heavy cotton or canvas, something unremarkable to the natives-but what had the Chapalii built into them?

It was too dark to see what color his skin flushed, though she thought it changed slightly. His voice continued imperturbably. "We have mechanisms, Lady Terese."

' 'What if this other party attacks? Are you not concerned for your life and the lives of your party, Cha Ishii?"

"I am not concerned, Lady Terese. If I may be excused?"

She nodded. He beat a strategic retreat into the nearest tent. One Chapalii stood outside the second tent, watching her attentively. He was clearly not of the steward class; their deference to her was so complete as to render them almost invisible. Then, bowing directly to her-a slightly arrogant breach of manners, since she had not formally recognized him-he, too, turned and vanished into his tent.

"Why do they bow to you?" Yuri asked. "I never saw people bow except in Jeds, when what they called-what is that word? — the nobility went past."

"I think that Bakhtiian would like to be bowed to."

Yuri grinned. "I'll just bet he would." Then, either distracted from his question or letting it go, he changed the subject. "We should start teaching you to use that saber. Just in case. Kirill will help. He's a good teacher, though he doesn't act it. And Mikhal and Konstans and Nikita and Fedya. I suppose we ought to ask Vladimir to join, too." He took her over to where the youngest men in the jahar had gathered, and they showed her how to hold and balance her saber, and how to take simple backward and forward cuts.

In the morning, Niko Sibirin rode out to scout with Bakhtiian and Tess. For a while, he and Bakhtiian spoke rapidly together in khush. Tess caught the name Doroskayev many times, and other words and phrases in bits and pieces, but not enough to string together into understanding. Then Bakhtiian rode off by himself, leaving Tess with Niko.

"How are you getting on?" Sibirin asked in Rhuian.

"I'm still here."

"Yes. I'm glad to see it. I've seen others fail this test."

"Does he do this to every new rider?"

Niko chuckled. The lines on his face softened when he smiled, gentling the sharpness of his eyes. "Oh, no, my dear. Only those he does not trust yet for one reason or another. Poor Vladi had enough trouble from the young men when Ilyakoria took him in to foster so that he took it doubly hard when he was run into the ground his first ride out. I suppose he thought that Bakhtiian taking him in assured him a place. It did not."

"He must have passed the test."