Until the Sun Falls by Cecelia Holland

Author:Cecelia Holland [Holland, Cecelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical
ISBN: 9781617565465
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 1968-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“You have a skull like a piece of rock,” Tshant said.

“Is that fresh water?”

“Yes.” He squeezed out the cloth and pressed it against the mess of Psin’s face. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Remorse. And the nursing on top of it. If I could find my right arm I’d break your neck.”

“I didn’t know you were so strong. If you weren’t so strong I wouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Psin’s eyes glittered feverishly. Whenever Tshant put the rag to his face, he flinched, shivering. The sand was embedded in the raw meat of his cheek, and he’d bitten the inside of his mouth to shreds. Tshant rinsed the cloth and started to soak out the sand, but Psin’s left hand caught him around the wrist.

“Why? I’ve got friends enough. I don’t need you working over me.”

“Because of your friends,” Tshant said. “The way they look at me, I may get an arrow in the back the next time I turn it.”

The grip of the fingers loosened. “It was Sabotai.” Psin shut his eyes.

“I know. I finally figured that out.”

The blood ran freely down into Psin’s hair. His limp mustaches clung wetly to his jaw. Tshant picked up Psin’s right hand and bandaged it, hoarding the water.

“Baidar, Batu, Kaidu and Sabotai all gave up their water ration for you.”

“Tshant. I’m tired of fighting with you.”

“You’re sick. You wouldn’t say—”

“I am. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Tshant paused. He stared down at the wreck of his father’s face in the wavering torchlight. That Psin might weaken he had never considered. His hands trembled; he could not bear that, that Psin should weaken.

“I must be… older than I thought,” Psin said. He shut his eyes.

“No.”

Psin’s eyes slowly opened. His lacerated cheek stretched into a smile; his fingers moved and caught Tshant by the wrist. “Unnatural,” he said. “Unnatural. You came by it naturally enough, monster. I’d rather fight you than the Russians. Go away. I’m tired.”

Tshant stood up, uncertain. Psin pulled his sable cloak over him and shifted his weight a little; his eyes shut again. The torchlight lay now on the better side of his face. Tshant gathered up the cloth and filthy water and went away.

Mongke walked up out of the darkness. “I hear you beat him.”

Tshant stopped, surprised. Mongke had come back from patrol after sundown. If he knew already the whole camp knew. “Who told you that?”

“Many, many. Did you beat him?”

Mongke of all people should have been gleeful, but Mongke was not. Tshant grimaced. “No. I knocked him cold. That was all.”

Mongke’s teeth flashed in a grin. “I didn’t think you had.” He went on by. Tshant looked after him, thinking of following, but after a while walked on up the slope.

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