The Pride of Chanur

“So,” said Pyanfar, “do you believe all your enemies say?”

“I see this,” Hilan said, gesturing at Tully. “And all of a sudden the game looks a lot larger than before. All of a sudden I see reason that the kif might gather, and why they might not stop. Chanur’s ambition — has gone too far this time. Whatever you’re into, I don’t want part of it. My sister’s alive; and two of my cousins; and we’re going home. — Cousin,” she said, looking at Hilfy, “to you — I apologize.”

Hilfy said nothing, only stared with hurt in her eyes.

“Hilfy can leave with you if she likes,” Pyanfar said. “Without my blame. It might be a prudent thing to do… as you point out.”

“I’d be pleased to take her,” Hilan said.

“I stay with my ship,” Hilfy said, and Pyanfar folded her arms over a stomach moiling with wishes one way and the other at once. And pride — that too.

“So,” Pyanfar said, “I wish you safe journey. Best we should travel together, but I’m sure that’s not in the Tahar’s mind now.”

“No. It’s not.” The Faha looked down, and up again, in Tully’s direction, a darkening of the eyes. “If you considered your relations to others, you wouldn’t have done this thing. You’ve taken on too much this time. And others will think so.”

“What I took on myself, arrived on our ship without a by your leave or my knowledge it existed. What would you do with a refugee who ran onto your ship? Hand him over to the kif at their asking? I don’t sell lives.”

“But you don’t mind losing them.”

“You throw away what they did,” Hilfy said suddenly, “with your smallness.”

The Faha’s ears flattened. “What are you to judge? Talk to me when you’ve got some years on you, cousin. This—” She came dangerously near Tully, and Chur who had been sitting on a counter slid down to plant both feet, barring the way. Tully got out of his chair and stood as far back in the bend of the counter as he could get. The Faha shrugged, a careless gesture throwing away her intent. “I’ve another word,” the Faha said, looking straight at Pyanfar. “Whether or not you intended what you’ve involved yourself in — it just may be the finish. Your allies might have stood by you, but it’s all gotten too tangled. It’s gotten too risky. How long since you’ve been home?”

“Some few months.” Pyanfar drew in a breath and thrust her hands into her belt, with the taste of something bad coming — that ill feeling of a house at its height, in which any breath of change was trouble; and of a sudden she misliked that look on the Faha’s face, that truculence which melted into something of discomfort, a decent shame. “Maybe more than that,” Pyanfar said, “if you count that I didn’t go downworld last call. What is it, Faha? What is it you’re bursting to tell me?”

“A son of yours — has taken Mahn from Khym Ma

“You’re young,” Pyanfar said, looking down her nose. “The young always worry. You’re right, your captain would have backed me. She had the nerve for it. But go your way, Hilan Faha. I’ll pay your debts because I promised; Chanur will reward the mahe who pulled you out. And when I’ve settled with that whelp Kara I’ll be in better humor, so I may even forget this. So you won’t worry how to meet me in future — don’t fear too much. I’ll not regard you too badly… the young do grow; but by the gods I’ll never regard you the way I did your captain. You’re not Lihan, Hilan Faha, and maybe you never will be.”

The Faha fairly shook with anger. “To be paid the way you paid her—”

“She’d curse me to a mahe hell if she were here, but she’d not do what you’ve done. She’d not run out on a friend. Go on, Hilan Faha, leave my deck. A safe voyage to you and a quick one.”

For a moment the Faha might have struck out; but she was worn thin and hopeless and the moment and the courage went. “Her curse on you then,” she said, and turned and stalked out, not so straight in the shoulders, not so high of head as she had come in. Pyanfar scowled and looked at Hilfy, and Hilfy herself was virtually shaking.

“Kohan never said anything about this Mahn business in his letter,” Pyanfar said. “What do you know, niece?”

“I don’t,” Hilfy said. “I won’t believe it. I think the Faha’s been listening to rumors.”

“How much did you know about the estates when you were at home? Where was your head then, but on The Pride? Is it possible something was brewing and you didn’t hear?”

“There was always talk; Kara Mahn was always hanging about the district. He and Tahy. There — was some calling back and forth; I think na Khym talked to father direct.”

“Rot his hide, Kohan could have said something in that letter.”

“He sent me,” Hilfy said in a small, stricken voice. “When The Pride turned up in system I asked to go, and he said he’d never permit it; and then — the next night he gave me the letter and put me in the plane and gods, I was off to the port like that. Hardly a chance to pack. Said I had to hurry or The Pride would leave port and I’d miss my chance. Like that, at night; but I thought — I thought it was because ships don’t calculate day and night, and that shuttle was going up anyway.”

“O gods,” Pyanfar groaned, and sat down against the counter, looked up at all the ring of anxious faces. “Not yet that son of mine doesn’t. Gods blight the kif; we’ll settle them, but we’re going to take care of that small business at home; that’s first.”

Ears pricked. “We’re with you,” Haral said. “Gods, yes, home. Going to shake me some scruffs when I get there.”

“Hai!” Geran agreed, and Tirun; and Tully visibly flinched, calmed again as Chur patted his shoulder. He settled and Hilfy sat down beside him, put her hand on his other shoulder, two disconsolate souls who shared not much at all but their misery.

“We’ll straighten it out,” Pyanfar said to Hilfy. “We’ll do it on our terms. Agreed, niece?”

“He got me out of there,” Hilfy said. “I could have helped and he saw it coming and he moved me out.”

“Huh. You’re not old enough to know your father from my view, with all respect for your own. He thinks, some time before a problem comes on him — not much meditation during, gods know, but he sets things up like pieces on a board. Too rotted proud to call me downworld, ah, yes; too rotted smart to have young Hilfy Chanur at hand to get herself in a tangle with her Mahn cousins and to pitchfork that temper of Kohan’s into it… don’t get your ears down at me, imp; we’re family here. The sun rises and sets on your shoulder so far as your father’s concerned, and that blasted son of mine would go right for the greatest irritance he could give your father if he wanted to take on Chanur — your precious inexperienced self. No, Kohan just cleared the deck, that’s all. Chances are he was wrong; he’s not immune to that either. I’d sooner have had you there; I think you’d have handled young Kara right enough; and Tahy with him. But if Moon Rising’s going home, it’s to carry the kind of news the Tahar have gotten here; it’s going to make trouble, no thanks to the Faha: and there’s a time past which Kohan’s going to be hard put. He’s got — what mates in residence? Your mother and who?”