Part 68 (1/2)

”He speaks weD,” said one of the out-tribesmen, settling near. ”It is remarkable.”

Others behind him nodded, and one laughed a breath. ”This is a wonder,” that one said, ”to sit and talk with a tsi'mri.”

The word, Duncan reflected placidly, studying his hands in his lap, also applied to the dusei.

”He is mannered,” another said.

The old kel'e'en reached and touched at his sleeve. ”Veil, kel'en. The air does you harm; there is courtesy and there is stupidity.”

He inclined his head in thanks and did so, headcloth and twice-lapped veil.

And now and again in the silence which followed, he glanced in the direction of the she'pan's tent, for one by one the standing kel'ein settled; he was anxious, for himself and for what manner of maneuvering might have encompa.s.sed Niun as well and for what pa.s.sed in Council among those who had power ... all that he had tried to do, all that he had paid his life for, and now he could not even merit to sit at the door to hear judgment pa.s.sed on his offering to them. He sat, in their long silence, and fretted, aware finally of another presence responding to his distress.

It came padding across the sand toward them, his dus, anxious and hasty. He felt it; and it sensed hostility, and its presence loomed dark and ominous.

He glanced about him with a gesture of appeal, to ja'anom and to the others. ”Do not hate,” he wished them.

That was like asking the wind to stop; but heads nodded after a moment The dus came, worked quietly among them, wended its stubborn way to his back, dislodging Ras a little s.p.a.ce. He cherished that warmth against him where Ras had been. And in the long silence that followed that s.h.i.+fting about, he drew from his belt the weighted cords, the kaislai, kaislai, and began to knot them in the star-mandala. and began to knot them in the star-mandala.

It was the islan islan of Pattern, which imposed order on confusion. It was the most complex he knew, which in his learning fingers would take long to complete. of Pattern, which imposed order on confusion. It was the most complex he knew, which in his learning fingers would take long to complete.

He was, after a dogged fas.h.i.+on, committing an insolence. He was better in the islai islai than some who had the kel-scars; he had had long practice, on the s.h.i.+p, in idleness. He meant to defy them, for all it was unwise. He did not even look up . . . feeling their eyes on him, who aped their ways; felt a grating at his nerves, the s.h.i.+fting of his dus. Ras had her hand on it, which few dared. than some who had the kel-scars; he had had long practice, on the s.h.i.+p, in idleness. He meant to defy them, for all it was unwise. He did not even look up . . . feeling their eyes on him, who aped their ways; felt a grating at his nerves, the s.h.i.+fting of his dus. Ras had her hand on it, which few dared.

He kept his mind to his pattern, refusing to be distracted even by that.

”Kel'en,” said Peras. ”Air”

”Council deliberations can be quite tedious. Do you play shonai?” shonai?”

His heart began to beat rapidly. The Game of the People was one thing played among friends; he thought were Niun at hand to hear that he would be on his feet in outrage. He carefully stripped out the complex knots and looped the ka'islai ka'islai again to his belt. ”I am mri,” he said softly, ”for all you protest it. Yes, I play the Game.” again to his belt. ”I am mri,” he said softly, ”for all you protest it. Yes, I play the Game.”

There were soft hisses, reaction to his almost-insolence. Old Peras took from his belt the as-ei, as-ei, the palm-blades. ”I will play partner to kel Duncan,” Peras said. In the Game, Niun had taught him, one's life relied on seating. When strong player sat opposite weak or when grudges and alliances seated themselves out of balance in the circle, someone could die. There was only the partnering of the players at one's elbows to counsel an enemy across the circle not to throw foul. Strong beside weak was a protection, if weak were wise where he sent his own casts. the palm-blades. ”I will play partner to kel Duncan,” Peras said. In the Game, Niun had taught him, one's life relied on seating. When strong player sat opposite weak or when grudges and alliances seated themselves out of balance in the circle, someone could die. There was only the partnering of the players at one's elbows to counsel an enemy across the circle not to throw foul. Strong beside weak was a protection, if weak were wise where he sent his own casts.

He had learned paired, only the Game of Two, patternless save for the pattern of the throws themselves, high and low.

They began to form a circle of six, with the others to witness. Duncan took comfort, for it was gentle Dias, Peras's truemate, who took the place opposing him in the circle, and those who flanked her were young, lesser in skill than some. But then kel Ras bent down and touched the sleeve of Dias. Some words pa.s.sed in low voices and short dispute, and Ras, of the second rank of the Kel, replaced kel Dias of the fourth, facing him him and Peras. and Peras.

And suddenly Duncan minded himself what Niun had always told him of death by stupidity.

They would kill him if they wished. He suddenly realized that he did not know the limits of his skill. He had played only Niun, and Niun was his friend.

Ras . . . was no one's. At Duncan's left there was another subst.i.tution, an old kel'en, on whom the scars were well-weathered.

The dus drew back a little, rested head on paws, puffed slightly and followed all this insanity with darting moves of its eyes.

The Game; it was a means of pa.s.sing time, as Feras had said. An amus.e.m.e.nt.

But the Kel amused themselves with blades, and amus.e.m.e.nts were sometimes even unintended to the death.

They gave their names, those Duncan did not know well; one did not play with strangers save in challenge. Duncan dropped his veil, for it was no friendly act to play veiled. There was hazard enough without that.

Kel Peras began, being eldest. . . threw to Ras. Hands struck thighs, the rhythm of the Game; and on the name-beat of the unspoken rhyme, the blades spun across the circle again.

They played about him, from man to man and woman to man and youth to youth, back and forth, weaving patterns which became established, excluding him, a Game of Five, oddly seated. Mri fingers, slim and golden and marginally quicker than human, s.n.a.t.c.hed spinning steel from the air and hurled it on at the next name-beat At no time did he relax, knowing that the rhythm could increase in tempo and that some impulse might send the blades spinning his way, from the youths, from Ras, any of those three.

Suddenly he had warning, a flicker of the membrane as Ras stared at him. Next time; he nodded, almost unnerved by her warning, whether courtesy or reflex.

The blades spun to her, s.h.i.+ning in the sun, and she s.n.a.t.c.hed them, waited the beat and hurled them at the steady time of the Game, no deception or change of pace.

He made the catch, hurled them left of her in his time, to a young kel'en. Now a new lacery began, which wove itself star-patterned like the islan, islan, the mandala of the Game, the Game of Six, as each Game was different by every factor in it the mandala of the Game, the Game of Six, as each Game was different by every factor in it The pattern varied, and beside him kel Peras laughed, catching the treachery of Has; the bkdes, missed, might have killed; Ras' eyes danced with amber merriment, and the blades came back to her, cunningly thrown, low-and-high. She cast them again to Peras, left-slant; he threw to her, again left; back to elder Da'on, right; and he threw to young Eran and he to young Sethan.

Tempo altered, making again a safer rhythm, the moment's sport among Masters tamed again, beating slower for lesser players.

It came back, from Ras to himself; he caught, and threw to the youngest, Sethan, tacit recognition of his status.

It returned, evenly paced; he cast back; it went to Da'on on bis left, to Ras, to Peras And stopped, Peras signaling halt. The rhythm of the hands ceased. Duncan drew a great breath, suddenly coughed from the chill air and realized that that reflex a moment ago might have killed him.

”Veil,” Da'on advised him. He did so, holding the cloth to his mouth and nose until the chill left his lungs. The dus edged up to him, settled against his back, offering him its warmth.

”An unscarred,” said Da'on, ”should never play the Six.”

”No, kel'en,” he agreed. ”But when a scarred asks, an unscarred obeys.”

Breaths hissed softly between teeth. Heads nodded.

”You play the Game,” Peras said, ”in all senses. That is well, human kel'en.”

He leaned against the dus, caressed its neck, for his heart was still pounding and the dus s.h.i.+vered in reaction.

The tent flap stirred. Another kel'en came out and sat down on the sand, out of the wind. He looked up and two more followed, and four and three, not all of their own Kel. The black a.s.sembly widened, veils dropped, so that he felt he should take his own down, and did so, trying to breathe carefully.

He must not be afraid. The dus would catch it up and cast it to them. He must not be angry. The dus would rouse and they would sense that too. The mri of Kutath could not veil their emotions, not generally. He received a touch of resentment, and some rare things warmer, pure curiosity. It was not attack, not yet. He soothed the dus with his touch, himself master of it and not the other way about, making it feel what he wished it to feel quiet, quiet Shon'ai, the mri of Kesrith said; the Game-throw is made. the mri of Kesrith said; the Game-throw is made.

No calling it back, no mending it now.

Shon'ai; it is cast! it is cast!

Throw your Me, kel'en; and deserve to live, for joy of lie Game.

They had been there all along, and more came now, until all in the kel-tents must be there, and he was the center of it.

”Tell us,” said Peras, ”kere-who-has-shared-in-Kath, make us all to understand this thing of s.h.i.+ps and enemies.”

He cast an anguished glance toward the she'pan's tent, hoping against hope to see Niun and the others, some indication even that the Council might be near an end, that he might delay. It was a vain hope.

”Shall an unscarred of this Kel know more,” asked Peras, ”than the seniors of it, who sit in Council? Things are out of balance here, young kel'en of the ja'aom. That is one disease here. Remedy it”