Apposition

Trudy flew Nari'ong into the mining camp at Swotulu in formation with Marali. She almost fell off the ikran when it landed, shaking from exhaustion – or at least that's what she told herself it was. There were hundreds of Na'vi moving around in the half-dark under the light of Polyphemus, but somehow Norm spotted her and was by her side.

"Hey, babe," she said, throwing her arms around him, breathing in deeply and smelling his sweet scent. He smelt nothing like the tawtute – instead, he smelt like freshly washed laundry hung out to dry in the sun, full of light and hope.

Norm felt her trembling, and kissed the top of her head. Making a sudden decision, he scooped her up and carried her to his campfire, cradling her in his arms. She was too tired to make any protest, and when he laid her down she was already asleep. It was with concern that he saw tears trickling down her cheeks, and heard her whispering in her sleep – something about death, and burning, and pain.

He hesitated for a moment, and then ran in search of Mo'at. It took him the best part of half an hour to find her and bring her back to the campfire where his mate was sleeping. He explained his concern to the Tsahik of the Omaticaya, who frowned deeply at his words.

She took Trudy's right hand gently and studied it, listening carefully to her unconscious mutterings. After a time Mo'at told Norm, "Truti'tsakon should not be here, doing this. She is like atokirina, seed of the sacred tree – very pure spirit. Eywa meant her to bring life, not death, even to the tawtute. That was why she flew away from the destruction of Hometree and joined the Na'vi in the war against the evil tawtute, giving the Omaticaya the Toruk Makto, though it cost her all she knew. Each time she takes a soul, no matter how corrupt it may be, it is as though she drives the knife of grace into her own heart, and her soul sickens from the pain, and so she seeks to punish herself for the evil that she believes she does."

"What can I do?" pleaded Norm. "She believes she has to fight to protect the Na'vi."

Mo'at smiled at the worried young man, remembering another young Na'vi male worrying for his mate and first child when they fell sick, over twenty years ago. "Be yourself, Nor'man, and make her rest. There are others to carry this burden in the here and now. No-one – not Omaticaya, or Tipani, or Plains People, or even the Ikran People of the Eastern Sea, doubts the courage of Truti'tsakon, and none would fault her for not continuing."

Norm pondered what the Tsahik told him, when an irreverent thought struck him. Mo'at was telling him that he had chosen a saint for his mate. She had to be the lustiest and most irreverent person he had ever met – he could not think of anyone less like a saint than Trudy. But Mo'at was right – her every action was dedicated to doing right and preserving life.

"Why do you smile?" asked the Tsahik gently. She was often puzzled by this clumsy young man, and what drove him in his quest for knowledge and understanding.

"The tawtute believe that their deity blesses some few people – they are called saints in English –making them like the atokirina, like you say Truti'tsakon is," he started to explain. "But they renounce all pleasure and joy and dedicate their lives to the deity - not like Truti, who revels in lovemaking and life. She is not like tawtute saints."

The Tsahik snorted in disgust. "The tawtute are truly skxawng. Eywa granted the Na'vi the joy of tsahaylu and love so that we may worship life, and thus worship her. No wonder the tawtute are as they are – they have everything backwards."

She placed her hand on his arm, telling him, "I have Seen that your mate is yet to travel a long and difficult road, and her part is not done. Protect and keep her safe, Nor'man, for the road will cause her great pain."

He gave the only answer a true mate could. "I will do my best."

Mo'at rose from his side, and went to seek her daughter's mate. Jake'sully was surrounded with by the older warriors of many tribes, grouped around a 'map' that he said represented Eywa's embrace from Hell's Gate to Swotulu. She looked hard at it, pretending that she was on the back of an ikran looking down on the world, when suddenly she realised what he meant - each symbol on the 'map' meant something – a hill, a valley, or a stream, each placed the right distance apart, but smaller, as though she was viewing the world from far higher than any ikran that ever flew. The markings he made on the map showed where each group of the tawtute soldiers were. This must be how the tawtute fought their wars – with 'maps' and gunships and burning rocks and cold calculation. No wonder they were so terrible in their anger.

She had been shamed before her daughter – Ney'tiri had Seen Jake'sully before anyone else, even her, the Tsahik of the Omaticaya. Mo'at understood now why her daughter had chosen this man. He was strong and decisive, and a great warleader, but so gentle and kind, even to those who would be his enemies. Mo'at had only truly Seen him when he flew to the Tree of Souls mounted on a toruk, and even then she doubted what she saw.

There was no doubt now – he was olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya and Toruk Makto.

Jake saw that Ney'tiri's mother was waiting to talk to him. Quickly, he issued orders to the warriors around him, talking to them seriously, as first among equals. Many warriors would have longed for his sure way with words and ease in dealing with men, but none used it as well, she thought. The warriors around him nodded, and walked away on their business.

"I See you, Mo'at," he said. "What can I do?"

"It is Truti'tsakon," she said reluctantly. "She should not participate in the battle against the tawtute any further. It sickens her soul."

The mate of her daughter looked grave. "She should not have been fighting," he said. "Trudy is one of the few chopper pilots we have, and she is exhausted. We cannot afford to risk her in combat."

"She is very proud," said Mo'at. "She will want to continue."

Jake'sully muttered some tawtute words under his breath. Mo'at did not understand any of them, but they sounded like curse words. He finally said, "There are many other warriors who can kill tawtute soldiers, but they all must eat. I will tell Trudy that once she is rested, she is to hunt for the other warriors, and she is to hold herself ready to fly her chopper. She is a soldier, and understands the necessity to follow orders."

Mo'at said wryly, "Only when she agrees with them, like a dreamwalker I once knew."

Jake threw back his head and laughed.