what?” Tess asked.
“Ilya said not to tell her—”
“Yuri,” said Sonia. She let out a sigh and dumped the cut meat into a gleaming copper pot. “You might as well say. I never thought it was right not to tell Tess, and you’ve said too much as it is.” She exchanged a glance with Tess and set a woven bag filled with wet tubers down next to the rug, taking the board from Tess. Then she and her daughter turned their backs on Tess and Yuri and with a fresh knife cut up the vegetables, although the little girl peeked back frequently.
“What is it you weren’t supposed to tell me?”
Yuri hesitated, glancing to the right, to the left, at Sonia, and finally back at Tess. “About the khepelli.”
“The khepelli?” Tess felt like all the heat had flooded out of her body into the ground and the air. The late afternoon breeze was chill and damp, presaging rain.
“They say you were on the same ship with them,” Yuri continued, apparently oblivious to her expression. “When Ilya told them you were following us, they were very surprised. They said you must have followed them from the coast. They said that you were a—a spy—is that the right word?”
“You knew I was following your trail? And the Chapalii—khepelli—” The word, in his tongue, sounded strange and dangerous to her ears. “—they knew, too?”
Yuri’s cheeks flushed pink.
Pretending not to listen, Sonia nevertheless said in a low voice, “I call it dishonorable to leave a woman walking so long. How she made it alone from the coast I can’t imagine. She might have died. It’s a disgrace. And I told Ilya so myself.”
Yuri grinned, glancing up from under long lashes at Tess. “She did, by the gods. You should have heard it.”
Tess was too coldly furious to respond to the grin. “And just what do these khepelli say they’re doing here, that I should want to spy on them? And risk my life like that while I’m at it?” Abruptly, before Yuri could answer, she stood up and wiped her hands on her trousers. “No, don’t bother to answer. Just take me to them.”
“I can’t. Ilya would…” He trailed off, unable to express what Ilya would do.
“He wouldn’t—it isn’t—” Tess realized suddenly that she knew nothing at all about this culture, except that they practiced summary execution. “He wouldn’t kill you?”
Yuri sighed. “Killing would probably be a mercy, compared to what he would say to me,” he replied, evidently having already forgotten the horrible act committed in front of his eyes that very morning. “Ah, Tess, you’ve never been on the sharp end of his tongue.”
“Well, then, Sonia, will you take me?”
Without hesitation, Sonia met her gaze. “I can’t, Tess. This is men’s business, not mine. But Yuri, on the other hand, ought to take you. Isn’t that so, Yuri?”
Yuri sheathed his knife, adjusted the position of his saber on his belt, and ran a hand down the black and gold embroidered pattern that decorated the sleeves of his red shirt.
“Yuri.”
“Yes, Sonia. Come on, Tess.” He led Tess off in silence, but as soon as they were away from the camp, out walking up a rise, the grass dragging at their knees and thighs, he was voluble enough. “It isn’t fair, having four sisters, and all of them older than you. Well, three, since Anna died with the baby. But it’s always, Yuri do this and Yuri do that, and what am I to say? They don’t have to face Bakhtiian. He would never dare raise his voice to them, and if he ever did—although I can’t imagine him ever trying to—then Mother would find out, and then Ilya would hear about it.” He looked suddenly pleased with the image brought to him by this hypothetical turn of events. “I’d like to hear that. But then,” and he looked at Tess with an impish smile, “Ilya never makes mistakes, so it will never happen.”
“Yuri, I promise you, if Bakhtiian tries to blame you for bringing me with you, I’ll deal with him.”
Yuri
“Ilya said not to tell her—”
“Yuri,” said Sonia. She let out a sigh and dumped the cut meat into a gleaming copper pot. “You might as well say. I never thought it was right not to tell Tess, and you’ve said too much as it is.” She exchanged a glance with Tess and set a woven bag filled with wet tubers down next to the rug, taking the board from Tess. Then she and her daughter turned their backs on Tess and Yuri and with a fresh knife cut up the vegetables, although the little girl peeked back frequently.
“What is it you weren’t supposed to tell me?”
Yuri hesitated, glancing to the right, to the left, at Sonia, and finally back at Tess. “About the khepelli.”
“The khepelli?” Tess felt like all the heat had flooded out of her body into the ground and the air. The late afternoon breeze was chill and damp, presaging rain.
“They say you were on the same ship with them,” Yuri continued, apparently oblivious to her expression. “When Ilya told them you were following us, they were very surprised. They said you must have followed them from the coast. They said that you were a—a spy—is that the right word?”
“You knew I was following your trail? And the Chapalii—khepelli—” The word, in his tongue, sounded strange and dangerous to her ears. “—they knew, too?”
Yuri’s cheeks flushed pink.
Pretending not to listen, Sonia nevertheless said in a low voice, “I call it dishonorable to leave a woman walking so long. How she made it alone from the coast I can’t imagine. She might have died. It’s a disgrace. And I told Ilya so myself.”
Yuri grinned, glancing up from under long lashes at Tess. “She did, by the gods. You should have heard it.”
Tess was too coldly furious to respond to the grin. “And just what do these khepelli say they’re doing here, that I should want to spy on them? And risk my life like that while I’m at it?” Abruptly, before Yuri could answer, she stood up and wiped her hands on her trousers. “No, don’t bother to answer. Just take me to them.”
“I can’t. Ilya would…” He trailed off, unable to express what Ilya would do.
“He wouldn’t—it isn’t—” Tess realized suddenly that she knew nothing at all about this culture, except that they practiced summary execution. “He wouldn’t kill you?”
Yuri sighed. “Killing would probably be a mercy, compared to what he would say to me,” he replied, evidently having already forgotten the horrible act committed in front of his eyes that very morning. “Ah, Tess, you’ve never been on the sharp end of his tongue.”
“Well, then, Sonia, will you take me?”
Without hesitation, Sonia met her gaze. “I can’t, Tess. This is men’s business, not mine. But Yuri, on the other hand, ought to take you. Isn’t that so, Yuri?”
Yuri sheathed his knife, adjusted the position of his saber on his belt, and ran a hand down the black and gold embroidered pattern that decorated the sleeves of his red shirt.
“Yuri.”
“Yes, Sonia. Come on, Tess.” He led Tess off in silence, but as soon as they were away from the camp, out walking up a rise, the grass dragging at their knees and thighs, he was voluble enough. “It isn’t fair, having four sisters, and all of them older than you. Well, three, since Anna died with the baby. But it’s always, Yuri do this and Yuri do that, and what am I to say? They don’t have to face Bakhtiian. He would never dare raise his voice to them, and if he ever did—although I can’t imagine him ever trying to—then Mother would find out, and then Ilya would hear about it.” He looked suddenly pleased with the image brought to him by this hypothetical turn of events. “I’d like to hear that. But then,” and he looked at Tess with an impish smile, “Ilya never makes mistakes, so it will never happen.”
“Yuri, I promise you, if Bakhtiian tries to blame you for bringing me with you, I’ll deal with him.”
Yuri
Similar Books
