Na'dia had left her two circle sisters asleep, to start her stretching exercises on the flat by the river bank at dawn. Her skin was still a little sticky from the utu'mauti, despite the best efforts of Ninat and Peyral, and she was considering the benefits of a quick wash when she felt someone approach.
It was Txep'ean.
She stopped her stretches and waited for him.
"I See you," he said. This time there was the proper amount of respect in his voice.
Na'dia nodded and made the gesture of acknowledgement, but did not answer.
Her silence made him shift uncomfortably, and he started to speak. "My sister Ninat has pointed out that my conduct has been...less than worthy, in that I have not paid you the respect and care that is due to a woman of the Na'vi. Nay," he said, "The respect due any woman of such courage and honour, particularly one to whom I owe the debt of my life."
This was shaping up to be a reasonable apology, as apologies went – even if it was not couched in the most flowery rhetoric.
"I have thought long on her words this night, and have concluded that she is correct." He paused, and said more humbly, "I have little experience in dealing with females, so I crave the poor excuse of ignorance and male obtuseness. I seek your forgiveness, and hope that you will promptly correct me should I transgress again." His mouth twisted attractively into a wry smile, as he added, "I have been left in no doubt whatsoever that any words you should use on such an occasion will readily make me aware of my many shortcomings, and will endeavour to learn from them."
Oh my god, she thought. He is totally gorgeous. She struggled to remember Ninat's advice, and barely managed to say, "I'll think about it."
Txep'ean held up his hand to indicate that he had not quite finished. "I am as a teylu under the hoof of a talioang, awaiting my dire fate, but there is one other indulgence I would beg from you."
She raised a brow in query. What was he going to ask for?
"I, like the rest of the clan, noted your skill on the field of combat. You are nawm'tsamsiyu, and although your style of fighting is strange to the Na'vi, I would learn from you, if you would deign to teach me."
Na'dia almost leapt for joy. He really meant it. She could not imagine that such a proud warrior would humble himself to learn from a mere tawtute female if he had not meant everything he had said.
However, she managed to hide her joy, and frowned. "The training is both long and hard," she said coolly. "I need to know you are committed to doing everything as I say, warrior. So I will set you a test."
Txep'ean nodded. "Very well," he said. "I am ready." He looked as though he was ready to run twenty leagues, and then fight a battle non-stop for three days, merely to prove himself worthy of her attention.
She had no doubt that he could actually do that – but it was far too easy a test, she thought. Na'dia would do something much worse to him - much, much worse.
She drew her swords and held them out in front of her at full stretch of her arms, parallel to the ground. "Stand still, and hold my weapons thus."
He looked puzzled. What kind of test was this? He took her swords from her, her skin thrilling from the inadvertent touch, and commented, "They are very light."
"Are they?" she replied. "We'll see." Txep'ean held the swords out as she directed, and she said, "I will tell you when you may lower them."
The expression on his face indicated that he thought this test would be a doddle.
She went back to doing her stretches, and had almost finished when Ralu and Tanhi appeared with their parents. Na'dia rose gracefully, and greeted them, "Oel ngati kameie."
Wokan and Ilyana - she had learnt the names of the children's parents yesterday from Ninat - returned her greeting and looked curiously at Txep'ean, obviously wondering what he was doing. She smiled, and told them, "He is making an apology." Already she was impressed by his strength and fitness – the tips of the blades were not moving at all.
"Ralu, Tanhi," she smiled at the two children. "Do you remember how we searched yesterday?"
"Yes, Na'dia," they chorused, nodding eagerly.
"Let us see, then."
She took Ralu and Tanhi through the figures she had taught yesterday, and found that they had remembered very well. She took a glance towards Txep'ean, to see that his expression of confidence had been replaced by one of grim determination, his brow decorated by a few beads of sweat standing out in proud relief. Na'dia showed the children another two figures, which they repeated five or six times before she was satisfied with their performance.
By now, Txep'ean's face was twisted in agony, the blades trembling slightly, and the tips moving in little circles as he fought to keep them level. Everything was going exactly to plan – especially as Wokan and Ilyana kept sneaking glances at the unfortunate warrior, sniggering at his plight.
Na'dia led the two children through the figures, all linked together in a graceful dance, calling out each pattern. They really were exceptional students – much better behaved than human children, she thought.
At the end of the routine, she thanked Ralu and Tanhi, and told them she was getting closer to finding herself. They asked if they could come tomorrow – she told them that she had to look elsewhere tomorrow, but they could help the following day.
Ilyana lingered a little after her children and mate left to return to the encampment. She gave Txep'ean an amused glance and said, "My cousin Peyral spoke to me last night. He always has been too proud."
Na'dia grinned and said, "She is a good friend and sister."
Ilyana nodded. "Eywa ngahu."
She returned the farewell, and decided to wash in the river. She took her time, making sure that she removed the last sticky vestiges of the utu'mauti. When she emerged, dripping wet, the blades were no longer parallel to the ground. Txep'ean was now fighting merely to keep his arms from dropping to his sides.
"You may stop," she said.
Txep'ean's shoulders slumped as his arms dropped. She took the blades from his hands, sheathed them and ordered him to kneel. He almost collapsed to the ground in relief.
"Rest today," she advised him, as she rubbed the knots out of the muscles in his shoulders and arms. "Do not try to do anything strenuous. You may inadvertently injure yourself, which will delay your training. Be here the day after tomorrow, at dawn."
The relief on his face would have been visible to someone in orbit. The poor baby must be in absolute agony.
"You can do this?" he asked incredulously. "For how long?"
She smiled. "Until I must eat, or drink, or go to the privy," she replied.
An expression of respect passed over his face. It seemed that a river had been crossed in his education. He nodded, and got up to return to the camp, nursing his aching arms.
Na'dia unsheathed her blades, and started her katas.