And Daniel?
she asked in return.
What has happened to him?
Her question almost disrupted his screening. He clamped down against it, too incoherent to screen against Daniel and explain about him at once. Isande understood, and he was about to reply again when he was startled by a projection appearing not a pace from him.
Mejakh!
He jerked back even as he flashed the warning to Isande. His dealings with the mother of Khasif and Tejef had been blessedly few, but she came into the
paredre
more frequently now that other duties had stripped Chimele of the aid of her
nasithi-katasakke
—for Chaikhe’s pursuit of an iduve mate had rendered her
katasathe
and barred her from the
paredre,
Khasif and Ashakh were on Priamos, and poor Rakhi was on watch in the control room trying to manage all the duties of his missing
nasithi
to Chimele’s demanding satisfaction. Mejakh accordingly asserted her rank as next closest, of an indirectly related
sra,
for Chimele had no other. Seeing that she had children now adult, she might be forty or more in age, but she had not the apologetic bearing of an aging female. She moved with the insolent grace of a much younger woman, for iduve lived long if they did not die by violence. She was slim and coldly handsome, commanding in her manner, although her attractiveness was spoiled by a rasping voice.
“Chimele,” said Mejakh, “I heard.”
Chimele might have acknowledged the offered support by some courtesy: iduve were normally full of compliments. All Mejakh received was a stare a presumptuous nas kame might have received, and that silence found ominous echo in the failure of Mejakh to lower her eyes. It was not an exchange an outsider would have noted; but Aiela had been long enough among iduve to feel the chill in the air.
“Chimele,” Rakhi said by intercom, “projections incoming from
Tashavodh
and
Mijanothe.
”
“Nine and ten clear, Rakhi.”
The projections took instant shape, edges blurred together, red background warring against violet. On the left stood a tall, wide-shouldered man, square-faced with frowning brows and a sullen mouth:
Kharxanen,
Isande read him through Aiela’s eyes, hate flooding with the name, memories of dead Reha, of Tejef, of Mejakh’s dishonor; he was Sogdrieni’s full brother, Tejef’s presumed uncle. The other visitor was a woman seated in a wooden chair, an iduve so old her hair had silvered and her indigo skin had turned fair—a little woman whose high cheek-bones, strong nose, and large, brilliant eyes gave her a look of ferocity and immense dignity. She was robed in black; a chromium staff lay across her lap. Somehow it did not seem incongruous that Chimele paid her deference in this her own ship.
“Thiane,” Isande voiced him in a tone of awe. “O be careful not to be noticed, Aiela. This is the president of the Orithanhe.”
“Hail
Ashanome,
” said Thiane in a soft voice. “Forgive an old woman her suddenness, but I have too few years left to waste long moments in hailings and well-wishing. There is no
vaikka
between us.”
“No,” said Chimele, “no, there is not. Thiane, be welcome. And for Thiane’s sake, welcome Kharxanen.”
“Hail
Ashanome,
” the big man said, bowing stiffly, “Honor to the Orithanhe, whose decrees are to be obeyed. And hail Mejakh, once of
Tashavodh,
less honored.”
Mejakh hissed delicately and Kharxanen smiled, directing himself back to Chimele.
“The infant the
sra
of Mejakh prospers,” he said. “‘The honor of us both has benefited by our agreement. I give you farewell,
Ashanome:
the call was courtesy. Now you know that I am here.”
“Hail
Tashavodh,
” Chimele said flatly, while Mejakh also flicked out, vanished with a shriek of rage, leaving Chimele, and Thiane, and Aiela, who stood in the shadows.
“
Au,
” said Thiane, evidently distressed by this display, and Chimele bowed very low.
“I am ashamed,” said Chimele.
“So am I,” said Thiane.
“You are of course most welcome. We are greatly honored that you have made the
harathos
in person.”
“Chimele, Chimele—you and Kharxanen between you can bring three-quarters of the iduve species face to face in anger, and does that not merit my concern?”
“Eldest of us all, I am overwhelmed by the knowledge of our responsibility.”
“It would be an incalculable disaster. Should something go amiss here, I could bear the dishonor of it for all time.”
“Thiane,” said Chimele, “can you believe I would violate the terms? If I had wished
vaikka
with
Tashavodh
to lead to catastrophe, would I have convoked the Orithanhe in the first place?”
“I see only this: that with less than three days remaining, I find you delaying further, I find you with this person Tejef within scan and untouched, and I suspect the presence of
Ashanome
personnel onworld. Am I incorrect, Chimele s
ra
-Chaxal?”
“You are quite correct, Thiane.”
“Indeed.” Her brows drew down fiercely and her old voice shook with the words. “Simple
vaikka
will not do, then; and if you do miscalculate, Chimele, what then?”
“I shall take
vaikka
all the same,” she answered, her face taut with restraint. “Even to the destruction of Priamos. The risk I run is to mine alone, and to do so is my choice, Thiane.”
“
Au,
you are rash, Chimele. To destroy this world would have sufficed, although it is a faceless
vaikka.
You have committed yourself too far this time. You will lose everything.”
“That is mine to judge.”
“It is,” Thiane conceded, “until it comes to this point: that there be a day remaining, and you have not yet acted upon your necessities. Then I will blame you, that with
Tashavodh
standing by in
harathos,
you would seem deliberately to provoke them to the last, threatening the deadline. There will be no infringement upon that, Chimele, not even in appearance. Any and all of your interference on Priamos will have ceased well ahead of that last instant, so that
Tashavodh
will know that things were rightly done. I have responsibility to the Orithanhe, to see that this ends without further offense; and should offense occur, with great regret, Chimele, with great regret, I should have to declare that you had violated the decrees of the Orithanhe that forbade you
vaikka
upon
Tashavodh
itself.
Ashanome
would be compelled to surrender its Orithain into exile or be cast from the kindred into outlawry. You are without issue, Chimele. I need not tell you that if
Ashanome
loses you, a dynasty more than twelve thousand years old ceases; that
Ashanome
from being first among the kindred becomes nothing. Is
vaikka
upon this man Tejef of such importance to you, that you risk so much?”
“This matter has had
Ashanome
in turmoil from before I left the
dhis,
o Thiane; and if my methods hazard much, bear in mind that our primacy has been challenged. Does not great gain justify such risk?”
Thiane lowered her eyes and inclined her head respectfully. “Hail
Ashanome.
May your
dhis
increase with offspring of your spirit, and may your
sra
continue in honor. You have my admiration, Chimele. I hope that it may be so at our next meeting.”
“Honor to
Mijanothe.
May your
dhis
increase forever.”
The projection vanished, and Chimele surrounded herself with the control room a brief instant, eyes flashing though her face was calm.
“Rakhi. Summon Ashakh up to
Ashanome
and have him report to me the instant he arrives.”
Rakhi was still in the midst of his acknowledgment when Chimele cut him out and stood once more in the
paredre.
Isande, who had waited outside rather than break in upon Thiane, was timidly venturing into the room, and Chimele’s sweeping glance included both the kamethi.
“Take over the desk to the rear of the
paredre.
Review the status and positions of every amaut and mercenary unit on Priamos relative to Tejef’s estimated location. Daniel must be reassigned.”
Had it been any other iduve, even Ashakh, that so ordered him, Aiela would have cried out a reminder that he had been almost a night and a day without sleep, that he could not possibly do anything requiring any wit at all; but it was Chimele and it was for Daniel’s sake, and Aiela bowed respectfully and went off to do as he was told.
Isande touched his mind, sympathizing. “I can do most of it,” she offered. “Only you sit by me and help a little.”
He sat down at the desk and leaned his head against his hands. He thought again of Daniel, the anger, the hate of the being for him over that child. He could not persuade them apart; he had tried, and probably Daniel would not forgive him. Reason insisted, reason insisted: Daniel’s company itself was supremely dangerous to the child. They were each safer apart. Priamos was safer for it, he and the child hopeless of survival otherwise; leaving her was a risk, but it was a productive one. It was the reasonable, the orderly thing to do; and the human called him murderer, and shut him out, mind locked obstinately into some human logic that sealed him out and hated. His senses blurred. He shivered in a cool wind, realized the slip too late.
Aiela.
Isande’s presence drew at him from the other side, worried. He struggled back toward it, felt the physical touch of her hand on his shoulder. The warmth of the
paredre
closed about him again.
Too long in contact,
she sent him.
Aiela, Aiela, think of here. Let go of him, let go.
“I am all right,” he insisted, pushing aside her fear. But she continued to look at him concernedly for a little time more before she accepted his word for it. Then she reached for the computer contact.
The
paredre
door shot open, startling them both, and Mejakh’s angry presence stopped Isande’s hand in mid-move. The woman was brusque and rude and utterly tangible. Almost Isande called out to Chimele a frightened appeal, but Chimele looked up from her own desk a distance away and fixed Mejakh with a frown.
“You were not called,” Chimele said.
Mejakh swept a wide gesture toward Aiela and Isande. “Get them out. I have a thing to say to you, Chimele-Orithain, and it is not for the ears of
m’metanei.
”
“They are aiding me,” said Chimele, bending her head to resume her writing. “You are not. You may leave, Mejakh.”
“You are offended because I quit the meeting. But you had no answer when Kharxanen baited me. You enjoyed it.”
“Your incredible behavior left me little choice.” Chimele looked up in extreme displeasure as Mejakh in her argument came to the front of the desk. Chimele laid aside her pen and came up from her chair with a slow, smooth motion. “You are not noticed, Mejakh. Your presence is ignored, your words forgotten. Go.”
“
Ashanome
has no honor when it will not defend its own.”
Chimele’s head went back and her face was cold. “You are not of my s
ra,
Mejakh. Once you had honor and Chaxal was compelled to notice you, but in his wisdom he did not take you for
kataberihe.
You are a troublemaker, Mejakh. You threw away your honor when you let yourself be taken into
Tashavodh
by Tejef. There was the beginning of our present troubles; and what it has cost us to recover you to the
nasul
was hardly worth it, o Mejakh, trouble-bringer.”
“You would not say so if Khasif were here to hear it.”
“For Khasif’s sake I have tolerated you. I am done.”
Mejakh struggled for breath. Could iduve have wept she might have done so. Instead she struck the desk top with a crash like an explosion. “Bring them all up! Bring up Khasif, yes, and this human nas kame, all of them! Wipe clean the surface of this world and be done! It is clear, Orithain, that you have more
m’melakhia
than
sorithias.
It is your own
vaikka
you pursue, a
vaikka
for the insult he did you personally, not for the honor of
Ashanome.
”
Chimele came around the side of the desk and Isande’s thoughts went white with fear:
Rakhi, get Rakhi in here,
she flashed to Aiela, and reached for the desk intercom; Aiela launched himself toward the two iduve.
His knees went. Unbelievable pain shot up his arm to his chest and he was on his face on the floor, blood in his mouth, hearing Isande’s sobs only a few feet away. The pain was a dull throb now, but he could not reach Isande. His limbs could not function; he could not summon the strength to move.
After a dark moment Chimele bent beside him and lifted his head, urging him to move. “Up,” she said. “Up, kameth.”
He made the effort, hauled himself up by the side of a chair and levered himself into it, searching desperately with his thoughts for Isande. Her contact was active, faint, stunned, but she was all right. He looked about when his vision had cleared and saw her sitting in a chair, head in her hands, and Rakhi standing behind her.
“Both of them seem all right,” said Rakhi. “What instructions about Mejakh?”
“She is forbidden the
paredre,
” Chimele said, and looked toward her kamethi. “Mejakh willed your death, but I overrode the impulse. It is a sadness; she had
arastiethe
once, but her loss of it at Tejef’s hands has disturbed her reason and her sense of
chanokhia.
”
“She has had misfortune with her young,” said Rakhi. “Against one she seeks
vaikka,
and for his sake she lost her honor. Her third was taken from her by the Orithanhe. Only in Khasif has she honorable
sra,
and he is absent from her. Could it be, Chimele, that she is growing
dhisais?
”