If the spirits favored their union, they would make the seed grow into a babe. And the babe grew until it outgrew the cave, and then it crawled out.
But my mother had said nothing about the blood I had seen smeared on Onra’s thighs, nor the pain in her eyes. Tahar’s manpart must have done something awful in Onra’s secret cave.
Yet Keela seemed happy about such things. I wished my mother still lived so she could have taught me more. I thought I might ask Onra the next time I saw her.
But what happened the following morning pushed those questions from my mind. When I brought Lord Gilrem’s medicine to him, he pressed his lips together and knocked the cup from my hand.
“Poison,” he whispered.
Keela had gone to the latrines as the weather had turned milder for the day. Gilrem had been using the pot under the bed in good weather and bad, sometimes with my help.
“No poison here, my lord.”
He ate the same food from the same tray as Keela, and I poured his water from the same jar as I had for Keela and myself.
“The lantaya made your spirit weak,” I told him. “You must drink Kumra’s medicine.”
He turned his head in refusal, and I let him be this once. For all the days I had been giving him Kumra’s potion, he had not improved any. But neither had he gotten worse, I thought then, and hesitated.
What if the contents of the black phial had kept him alive? So I made a new drink, but when he refused to open his lips, I did not force him. A healer sometimes had to let the sick choose their own fate.
At the midday meal, he waited once again until Keela left the chamber, then begged me, with more force this time, to bring him only water. Same at the evening meal.
The following morning after Keela had gone outside, Lord Gilrem sidled out of bed and shuffled to the water jar, dipped in his cup and drank it empty. Surprised by his show of strength, I stared as water ran down his chin.
The spirits be praised, his malady was leaving him at last. I hurried out of the chamber to share the good news with Keela at once.
“I need your services, girl.” Lord Gilrem’s rusty voice stopped me at the door.
His efforts brought color to his face, and he looked better than he had for many days, although I could see the trembling in his muscles.
“What are you in need of, Lord Gilrem?” The breakfast tray had been taken, but I could run to the kitchen and bring him almost anything he wanted.
“I must break free.”
“Free, my lord?” From the lantaya? Only the man’s own spirit could help him with that.
“Away from here.”
“But, my lord, you are free to leave any time you want. You can walk out the gate.” I snapped my mouth shut as I remembered what Kumra had said would happen to me if Lord Gilrem left before Keela conceived. “But you are too weak to travel. You must stay a little longer.”
He shook his head. “The longer I stay, the weaker I grow. If I do not leave now, I might never leave again.” His eyes, still somewhat clouded, held much desperation but resolve as well. He stepped toward me. “Where is the medicine?”
I held out the black phial. My heart seemed to stop as he opened it and emptied it into the pot under the bed. I could do nothing to save a drop.
“Lord Gilrem—”
“Ten crystals, girl,” he said, “for not telling anyone I am better. For helping me away from here.”
Strange how sometimes we cannot see things simply because we do not expect to see them. Even after living among the Kadar all that time, I was still not used to looking for deceit behind their words.
But at that moment, I finally understood everything. Kumra had been giving him the lantaya, or some other herb like it, to rob him of his spirit so he would do her will.
“Twenty blue crystals.” Lord Gilrem upped the price.
I could not comprehend such a sum, more than I had been sold for. A wave of cold resentment rose in my heart. The Kadar stole my life and turned me into a slave. Lord Gilrem himself could not be bothered to stay the hands of his warriors when they had been upon me. He had left me to his men at the creek.
Why should I help him?
Because he needs my help
, the answer came swiftly.
But if I helped him, I would seal my own fate. When he left, Kumra would have her revenge upon me. On the other hand, if Lord Gilrem stayed and Keela birthed a son, I would be set free.
Maybe she was with child already. Being her first, she might not notice right away. I resolved to start watching her more closely.
“I order you to help me,” Gilrem snapped, even as he collapsed onto the bed.
I hesitated. Maybe he was as much a prisoner as I. But he did not have to work. Nobody beat him. All he had to do was stay in his chamber and put seeds into Keela’s secret cave. Was it a fate so terrible that I should die for helping him?
And I
would
die if I defied Kumra in this, of that I was sure, whether by poison or beating.
I would have died for a number of people without another thought. My people. Or Onra, even though she was a foreigner. But not for a dark-hearted Kadar lord.
“I cannot help you, my lord. Forgive me,” I said, then ran away.
* * *
I dreamed a strange dream that night. In my dream,
my
heart and mind were filled with lantaya, not Lord Gilrem’s. The juice ran dark, the color of the phial that held it. The lantaya rose up within me like the tide and drowned the spirit my mother had breathed into me at my birthing.
I woke with a fright. I reached under my tunic to clutch the empty moonflower phial between my fingers, as I searched my clamoring heart and mind to make sure my spirit was still within me.
I did not have much time to think about my dream. Keela woke soon and needed my service in the inner chamber.
“Which one?” She wore only her under tunic of fine linen, several dresses on the floor before her.
Her belly did not seem to have grown. Nor did her breasts look swollen the least. Disappointment settled on my shoulders.
“The golden?” The color looked particularly nice on her, the tight bodice and billowing skirt especially slimming. Blue silk trimmed the fine damask, the rich cloth embroidered with pearls and enamel.
She kicked the dress away. “It makes me look pallid.”
“The green, then? The color matches your eyes.” Elaborate flower patterns had been woven into the light wool, the cuff and hem decorated with a thin strip of silky fur.
She thought for a short while before shaking her head. “The crimson.” She pointed to the silk dress embroidered in gold. “Red is Yullin’s favorite color.”
I had forgotten all about the upcoming holy day of Yullin, one of the war god Rorin’s many goddesses. Kadar women believed the warm wind, which would soon come to melt the snow and start the new season of planting, was the hot breath of Yullin as she sighed in pleasure in Rorin’s bed.
The goddess Yullin watched over all growing things, beginnings, and fertility. Keela seemed especially eager to attend the day’s sacrifices and offerings.
The outer door to my chamber creaked open—probably one of the maidens bringing the tray. It would be some kind of cooked small grain that represented plenty, and chicken or pork. Chickens scratched good luck from the dirt, while swine rooted it up. Kadar custom forbade the eating of fish or any flying bird on a holy day, as fish could swim away with someone’s good fortune and the birds would fly away with it.
“Shall I bring in your morning meal?” I shook the slight wrinkles from the red gown, the fine silk hissing. A faint scent of perfume rose from the material.
“Not yet. Assist me first.”
I helped her dress, then restored her hair to its proper splendor, tucking in a thin braid here and there that had come undone during the night. All through this, Lord Gilrem lay motionless on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
I brought in the tray and served Keela first as she demanded. She ate only a few bites, then left to join her mother. I carried the tray to Lord Gilrem, and he sat up to eat, consuming more food than I had ever seen him take.
Once again, he ordered me to aid his escape, offered crystals first, then threatened. Then he offered to take me with him and make me a valued concubine in his Pleasure Hall.
I left the room with the tray as soon as he finished his meal.
I ate some of the mangled leftovers while I waited for one of the maidens to fetch the tray. Kumra did not have separate meals sent for me, for Keela and Lord Gilrem left plenty each day. I was chewing on a piece of cold chicken when Onra sailed in.
“Kumra ordered that you should stay here all day to attend Lord Gilrem.” She pressed her lips into a narrow line of exasperation.
I shrugged. “Yullin will not miss a Shahala woman.”
“She will know you are not there, and she will withhold her favor from you for certain.” Her expression darkened. “You must give me something of yours to place in the offering jar.”
I looked about my person, more to please Onra than to garner favor with Yullin, but I had precious little to give. Other than my clothes, my only possession was my charm belt, five small charms hanging from it now, two given to me by Onra and Lenya each, the last one by Talmir’s wife.
I untied that one, the bird symbol of my ancestors’ tribe, and handed it to Onra. Maybe if I reminded the goddess that I was a Shahala, she would show mercy and send me back to my people.
Onra palmed the small carving with a nod of relief.
“I shall say many prayers for you,” she promised, then rushed off so she wouldn’t miss anything.
I had some peace then before Kumra stopped by after the ceremony, bringing melted snow consecrated by Yullin. She sprinkled the bed and Lord Gilrem in it. I could have told her about his plans of escape. I could have asked for more medicine and sneaked drops into his food unseen. I could have taken the water jar from the chamber so he would have been forced to drink whatever I brought him.
Those thoughts swirled in my mind as Kumra passed me with a narrow-eyed look on her way out. I said nothing. I had not promised my help to the man, but neither could I harm him.
Because I had a Shahala heart. And my mother’s spirit.
I could see myself in those thoughts at last, as if in a mirror, and disliked what I saw. I had wanted, all my life, to be a daughter worthy of my mother, to become like her. Yet what would she think if she could see me now? Had I become like the self-serving Kadar I despised?
I had, I feared. I had been so sure I was ready for the spirits to bless me with true powers, yet I still behaved as a child.
A Shahala healer could not choose whom she helped. Who was I, barely a woman, to decide who was worthy? My duty was to help everyone as best I could with no questions asked. If I assisted Kumra with ensnaring Lord Gilrem, I would have gained my freedom, but I would have lost my spirit, a fate as bad as if the lantaya filled my heart and drowned it.
So I told Lord Gilrem I would help him, and poured water into the black phial, and at every meal, I dropped a drop in his cup in front of Keela. And every day he drank and pretended to be weak. But as soon as Keela left the chamber, he rose and walked around the room to stretch his limbs.
On the third day, after Keela had gone to visit the latrines and I knew Kumra would be at Maiden Hall assigning chores, I turned to Lord Gilrem. “My lord, the time is here.”
At once he donned his short undertunic and doublet, wrapped his feet and pulled on his boots, then stood ready.
“The shortest way out is through the door that leads from Tahar’s Hall to the street,” I told him, remembering well the door through which I had walked into slavery. “The steward keeps it locked at all times, but he cannot refuse you exit.”
Lord Gilrem shook his head. “We cannot waste time looking for the man.”
He was right. Keela could return any moment, and the steward, one of the oldest men at the House of Tahar, oversaw many things from the spinning to the purchases that came in from the market.
“The War Gate, then.” In my mind I mapped the path to the wide portal through which the warriors marched off to war and returned. “We shall have to cross the courtyard.” Which would be busy this time of the day. “We will have to move fast.” And pray that we would not be seen by Kumra or Keela.
“I stand ready.” His eyes, almost completely clear now, glinted with determination. He was still but a shadow of the warrior prince I had first seen by the creek, but his richly embroidered golden doublet lent him stature and the sword by his side an illusion of strength. The effort of getting fully dressed for the first time in a long time had put some color into his face.
I stuck my head out the door but saw only servants, so I rushed down the corridor, Lord Gilrem close behind me. I checked once again before we stepped out to the courtyard.
“We will go straight for the gate.” We had to spend as little time in the open as possible.
But no sooner did the words leave my mouth than Kumra appeared at the door of Maiden Hall. We drew back and watched from the shadows as she marched to the kitchen.
I grabbed the phial hanging from my neck. Knowing this was my last chance, I whispered the question I had not dared ask before. “My mother was at Karamur some years back to heal the High Lord. Have you met her, my lord?”
“My brother is never sick. Must have been the High Lord before him.” His shrug said he cared not about some foreign healer. “What now? We must be quick.”
Disappointment brought a bitter taste to my tongue. “We must chance it.”
We had to cross between the kitchen and Maiden Hall and pray that Kumra would not see.
Only a short distance separated the two buildings. We would be in the open the whole time, and Kumra could step from the kitchen at any moment. And Keela too could easily see us, on her way back from the latrines.
Could they stop him? They could call the guard and claim he was delirious from his illness, have him carried back to his chamber. He did look pale and weak. Kumra could force her potion on him and gain control of him again.
My gaze darted around the courtyard.