Hienama by Storm Constantine Read Free Book Online Page A

ability to become simpering and vulnerable at will
(usually used in devastating conjunction with the previously
mentioned trait); and finally, a core of tempered steel. I’m sure
you see the picture I’m painting here. You’ve no doubt met these
types yourself. And I’m equally sure you can imagine what’s coming
next. I’m talking about a har called Gesaril, who came to Jesith
two weeks after the winter solstice to train with Ysobi.
    For a couple of glorious months
after Ysobi and I got together, I lived in bliss. Ysobi did not
move in with me, but we saw a lot of each other and spent the night
together around three or four times a week. We socialised a lot,
glowed radiantly, and became known as the epitome of what a perfect
chesna bond could be like. The only har who didn’t share in our
happiness, of course, was Zehn, but even he was gracious enough to
maintain the appearance of carefree friendship in public. I knew
that Ysobi would be taking on new students in the New Year, and
we’d discussed it. I can’t say I was overly delighted to think of
him in intimate situations with these as yet unknown hara, but I’d
worked hard at overcoming vestiges of human jealousy. Ysobi and I
were in love. We were unassailable. I’d always known what his work
entailed. I would be adult about it. If ever there was a case of
somehar painting a large red circle on his forehead, giving a gun
to his worst enemy and saying ‘I bet you can’t hit me,’ I was
it.
    My training for now had slowed
down. Ysobi had taken me to Acantha, first level Ulani, and we
planned to wait awhile before I progressed to Pyralis. He had a
couple of other students lined up, and had told me that sometimes
he would have a bunch of hara to train together, then there’d be a
few weeks’ or months’ lull, when he’d take a rest. It had been
unusual I’d been his only student during my training.
    We spent the winter solstice festival,
Natalia, with Sinnar and his family. They lived in a large house
set into a hillside a mile or so from the vineyard. Sinnar had a
chesnari himself and a young harling, which he’d hosted. That had
meant his chesnari, Tibar, had had to run the vineyard for a couple
of months, earlier in the year. Tibar came from the Shadowvales.
I’d not really seen the harling close up before, even though Tibar
sometimes brought him to the yard, and found the little creature
rather unsettling. In some ways, he didn’t look or behave like a
child, even though physically he was small. It seemed inconceivable
to me that Sinnar had hosted him; had grown a pearl in his body,
expelled it like a hen laying an egg. Altogether, the thought of
the process made me feel somewhat nauseous. I knew that hara had to
breed, because available humans for inception would eventually be a
thing of the past, but the idea of chesnari cosily making harlings
seemed too human for me, a flashback to an imaginary past.
    When I got the chance, I told
Ysobi quietly about my feelings, to see what he thought.
    He only said, ‘Harlings aren’t
that easy to make.’
    Over dinner, Tibar revealed one
of the reasons (I think) that we’d been invited to share their
festival meal. A friend of Tibar’s back in his hometown had a son
who had passed feybraiha in the summer. He’d asked Tibar if the
renowned Ysobi would train this son to Brynie level. Tibar wanted
to ask Ysobi face to face, once Ysobi had had a bit to drink and
was in a good mood. The reason for this cautious delay in making
the request soon became apparent. Tibar was an honest har, and felt
obliged to tell Ysobi that his friend had had trouble with his son.
‘He desperately needs training, some self-discipline at least,’
Tibar said. ‘He’ll be a handful, Yz. But we’ll be paid generously,
both Jesith and you yourself. What do you say?’
    Tibar perhaps didn’t know Ysobi as well
as I thought I did, but he was aware that our hienama couldn’t
resist a challenge.
    ‘OK,’ said Ysobi.
    In the early