The Faded Sun Trilogy Omnibus by C. J. Cherryh

Author:C. J. Cherryh [Cherryh, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1999-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The lost days multiplied into months. Duncan passed them in careful observance of maintenance schedules, stripped down units that did not need it and reassembled the machinery, only to keep busy—played shon’ai what time Niun would consent; memorized the meaningless chants of names, and constantly rehearsed in his mind what words he had recently gathered of the hal’ari, the while his hands found occupation in the game of knots that Niun taught him, or in the galleys, or in whatever work he could devise for the moment.

He learned metalwork, which was a craft appropriate to the Kel; and carving—made in plastic a blockish figure of a dus, for which he found no practical use in its beginning; and then purpose did come to him. “Give it to the she’pan,” he said, when he had done it as well as possible; and pushed it into Niun’s hands.

The mri had looked greatly distressed. “I will try,” he had said, with perplexing seriousness, and arose at once and went, as if it were a matter of moment instead of a casual thing.

It was late before he returned; and he settled on the floor and set the little dus-figure between them on the mat. “She would not, kel Duncan.”

No apology for the she’pan’s hatefulness; it was impossible that Niun apologize for a decision of the she’pan. Understanding came, why Niun had hesitated even to try to take the gift to her, and after a moment heat began to rise to Duncan’s face. He did not veil, but stared sullenly at the floor, at the unshapely and rejected little figure.

“So,” he said with a shrug.

“It was bu’ina’anein—you invaded,” Niun said.

“Presumptuous,” Duncan translated, and the heat did not leave his face.

“It is not the time,” said Niun.

“When will be?” Duncan asked sharply, heard the mri’s soft intake of breath. Niun veiled himself in offense and rose.

Discarded, the little figure lay there for two days before Niun, in a mild tone of voice, and after fingering it for some little time, asked if he might have it.

Duncan shrugged. “Take it,” he said, glad to have it gone.

It disappeared into the inner folds of Niun’s robes. Niun rose and withdrew from the room. The dusei went, and returned, and went again, restless.

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