Authors: Peter V. Brett
Both of them put their heads to the floor again. 'If that is your feeling, then kill us, intended,' Amanvah said.
'What'' Rojer said. 'I'm not killing anybody.'
'It is your right,' Amanvah said, 'and no more than we deserve for our betrayal. It is the same fate we will face if you refuse us.'
'They'll kill you'' Rojer asked. 'The Deliverer's own blood''
'Either the Damajah will kill us for failing to poison Mistress Leesha, or the Shar'Dama Ka will kill us for attempting it. If we are not safe in your chambers, we are not safe.'
'You are safe here, but that doesn't mean you need to bathe me,' Rojer said.
'My cousin and I never meant you dishonor, son of Jessum,' Amanvah said. 'If you do not want us as wives, we will go to our father and confess.'
'I'don't know if I can accept that,' Rojer said.
'You need not accept anything this night,' Sikvah said, 'save a song of Waning and a bath.' As one, the Krasian girls lowered their veils and began to sing, their voices no less beautiful than he remembered. He didn't understand the words, but the haunting tone spoke well of strength in darkest night. They rose to their feet and came to him, gently guiding him to the tub and pulling at his clothes. Soon he was naked and sitting in the steaming water, feeling the delicious heat leach the pain from his muscles. They wove a veil of music around him as mesmerizing as any he had cast over a demon.
Sikvah shrugged, and her black silk robes fell to the floor. Rojer gaped as she turned to unfasten Amanvah's robes as well.
'What are you doing'' he asked as Sikvah stepped into the tub in front of him. Amanvah got in behind.
'Bathing you, of course,' Amanvah said. She went right back into her song, scooping bowlfuls of hot water over his head as Sikvah took a brush and a cake of soap.
She was firm and efficient, scrubbing the dirt and blood from him while massaging his sore muscles, but Rojer barely noticed, eyes closed, drunk on their voices and the feeling of their skin, until Sikvah's hands dipped below the water. He jumped.
'Shhhh,' Amanvah whispered, her soft lips touching his ear. 'Sikvah is already known to man, and trained at pillow dancing. Let her be our Waning gift to you.'
Rojer didn't know exactly what
pillow dancing
meant, but he could well imagine. Sikvah's lips met his, and he gasped as she moved onto his lap.
Leesha hadn't realized Rojer's bedroom was directly beneath hers until she heard Sikvah's cries. At first she thought the girl was in pain and sat up, ready to fetch her apron, but then she realized the nature of the sounds.
She tried to go back to sleep, but despite the indiscretion, neither Rojer nor the girl seemed inclined toward quiet. She put a pillow over her ears, but the sounds broke through even that barrier.
She wasn't surprised, really. In some ways, it was more surprising it had taken so long. Sikvah's state, after Inevera had been so encouraging of a virginity test, had never sat well with Leesha. It was too easy a play on Rojer's chivalry, too convenient a way to tempt him into accepting them as brides. Rojer was only a man, after all.
She snorted, knowing it was only half the story. Inevera had played her, as well.
In truth, though she did not approve of a man taking more than one wife, she thought Rojer would have a good influence on the girls, and perhaps the responsibilities of a husband might help mature him, as well. If this was what he wanted'
Even if it is, I don't have to listen to it,
she thought, giving up on her bed and walking down the hall, choosing one of the many empty bedrooms on her floor. She fell gratefully into the covers and expected to drift off immediately, but the sounds had affected her, bringing unbidden images to mind. Jardir, his shirt stripped off, his muscled skin alive with wards. She wondered if they would tingle to the touch as Arlen's had.
When she finally drifted off, it was to thoughts of passion. In her dreams, she remembered the heat of the fireplace as she and Gared had squirmed together on the floor of her parents' common room. Marick's wolfish eyes. The ardent feeling of Arlen's kisses and embrace.
But Gared and Marick had betrayed her, and Arlen had shunned her. The dream became a nightmare as flashes, more detailed than ever before, came back to her about that afternoon on the road when she was pinned by three men. She heard their jeers and jests again, felt the way they had pulled her hair, relived what they had done atop her. Things she had blocked from her mind, but knew were horrid truth. Through it all, she could see the sneer Inevera had given her at the whipping.
She woke up with her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook for something to defend herself with, but of course she was alone.
When she reoriented herself, the fear fled, replaced by harsh anger.
They took something from me on that road, but I'll be corespawned if I let them take
everything.
Leesha felt the paint and powder thick on her face as she tried on what felt like the hundredth dress, all the while being careful of her pinned hair, lest it lose its shape.
Jardir was coming to court. He had sent word that morning that he wished to visit in the afternoon to continue to read to her from the Evejah as he had on the road, but no one had any illusions regarding his intent.
Abban's First Wife, Shamavah, brought dozens of dresses for her to try, Krasian silks smoother than a baby's skin, brightly colored and scandalously cut. She and Elona dressed Leesha like a doll, parading her before the mirrors lining the walls and arguing over which cuts were most flattering. Wonda looked on in amusement, probably feeling vindicated for the similar treatment she had suffered at the hands of Duchess Araine's seamstress.
'This one's too much, even by my standard,' Elona said of the latest choice.
'Too little, you mean,' Leesha said. The dress was practically transparent, like something Inevera would wear. She 'd need one of Bruna's thick knitted shawls to feel half decent in it.
'You don't want to give it all away,' Elona agreed. 'Let him work a bit to earn more than a peek.' She chose a more opaque dress, but the silk still clung to Leesha in a way that made her feel as if she were naked. She shivered, and realized why such fashion was not as popular in the North as the desert.
'Nonsense,' Shamavah said. 'Mistress Leesha has a body to rival even the Damajah. Let Shar'Dama Ka see well what he cannot have until the contract is signed.' She held up a wrap of cloth so diaphanous and scant Leesha wondered if she should bother to dress at all.
'Enough,' she snapped, pulling the dress Elona had chosen over her head and throwing it to the floor. She took a cloth and began to wipe away the paints and powders Shamavah had applied to her face while Elona looked over her shoulder and bickered over the colors.
'Wonda, go and fetch my blue dress,' Leesha said. Her tone wiped the grin off the girl's face and sent her scurrying.
'That plain old thing'' Elona asked. 'You'll look''
'Like myself,' Leesha cut her off. 'Not some painted Angierian whore.' Both women seemed ready to protest, but she glared at them, and they thought better of it.
'At least leave your hair,' Elona said. 'I worked all morning on it, and it won't kill you to look nice.'
Leesha turned, admiring the job her mother had done with her rich black hair, sending it in curling cascades down her back with a rebellious cut across her forehead. She smiled.
Wonda returned with Leesha's blue dress, but Leesha looked at it and tsked. 'On second thought, fetch my festival dress.' She threw her mother a wink. 'No reason I can't look nice.'
Leesha paced back and forth in her chambers, waiting for Jardir to arrive. She had sent the other women away; their talk only made her nerves tighten further.
There was a knock at her door, and Leesha made a quick check of the mirror, sucking in her stomach and giving her breasts a last lift before opening the door.
But it was not Jardir waiting on the other side, only Abban, his eyes down as he held a tiny bottle and a tinier glass.
'A gift for courage,' he said holding the items out to her.
'What is it'' Leesha asked, opening the bottle and sniffing. Her nose curled. 'Smells like something I'd brew to disinfect a wound.'
Abban laughed. 'No doubt it has been used for that purpose many times. It is called couzi, a drink my people often use to calm their nerves. Even the
dal'Sharum
use it, to give them heart when the sun sets.'
'They get drunk before going off to fight'' Leesha asked, incredulous.
Abban shrugged. 'There is a'clarity in the haze of couzi, mistress. One cup, and you will be warmed and calm. Two, and you will have a
Sharum's
courage. Three, and you'll feel you can dance on the edge of Nie's abyss without falling in.'
Leesha raised an eyebrow at him, but the corner of her mouth curved in a smile. 'Perhaps one,' she said, filling the tiny cup. 'I wouldn't mind a little warmth right now.' She put it to her lips and tossed it back, coughing at the burn.
Abban bowed. 'Every cup is easier than the last, mistress.' He left, and Leesha poured herself a second cup. Indeed, it went down more smoothly.
The third tasted just like cinnamon.
Abban was right about the couzi. Leesha could feel it wrapped around her like her warded cloak, warming and protecting her at the same time. The warring voices in her mind had fallen silent, and in that quiet was a clarity she had never known.
The room felt hot, even in her low-necked festival dress. She fanned her breasts, and noted with amusement the furtive glances Jardir cast while trying to feign disinterest.
The Evejah lay open between them as they lounged on silken pillows, but Jardir had not read a passage to her in some time. They spoke of other things; her improving language skills, his life in the Kaji'sharaj and her apprenticeship to Bruna, how his mother had been outcast for having too many daughters.
'My mother wasn't pleased to only have a daughter, either,' Leesha said.
'A daughter like you is worth a dozen sons,' Jardir said. 'But what of your brothers' That they are with Everam now does not diminish her gift of them.'
Leesha sighed. 'My mother lied about that, Ahmann. I am her only child, and I have no magic dice by which to promise you sons.' As she spoke, she felt a weight lift from her. As with her clothes, let him know the real her.
Jardir surprised her by shrugging. 'It will be as Everam wills. Even if you have three girls first, I will cherish them and hold faith that sons will follow.'
'I'm not a virgin, either,' Leesha blurted, and held her breath.
Jardir looked at her for a long time, and Leesha wondered if she had said too much. What business was it of his anyway, if she was or wasn't'
But in his eyes it was, and her mother's lie weighed on her as if it were her own, for she confirmed it by her silence.
Jardir looked from side to side as if to verify they were alone, and then leaned in close, his lips practically touching hers. 'I am not, either,' he whispered, and she laughed. He joined her, and it felt honest and true.
'Marry me,' he begged.
Leesha snorted. 'What need do you have of another wife, when you already have''
'Fourteen,' Jardir supplied, waving a hand as if it were nothing. 'Kaji had a thousand.'
'Does anyone even remember the name of his fifteenth'' Leesha asked.
'Shannah vah Krevakh,' Jardir said without hesitation. 'It is said her father stole shadows to make her hair, and from her womb came the first Watchers, invisible in the night, yet ever vigilant at their father's side.'
Leesha's eyes narrowed. 'You're making that up.'
'Will you kiss me, if I am not'' Jardir asked.
Leesha pretended to consider. 'Only if I may slap you, if you are.'
Jardir smiled, pointing to the Evejah. 'Every wife Kaji took is listed here, their names honored forever. Some of the entries are quite extensive.'
'All thousand are listed'' Leesha asked doubtfully.
Jardir winked at her. 'The entries don't begin to shorten until well after a hundred.'
Leesha smirked and picked up the book. 'Page two hundred thirtyseven,' Jardir said, 'eighth line.' Leesha flipped through the pages until she found the correct one.
'What does it say'' Jardir asked.
Leesha still had difficulty understanding much of the text, but Abban had taught her to sound out the words. 'Shannah vah Krevakh,' she said. She read the entire passage to him, trying hard to mimic the musical accent of the Krasian tongue.
Jardir smiled. 'It gives my heart great joy to hear you speak my language. I am penning my life, as well. The Ahmanjah, written in my own blood as Kaji wrote the Evejah. If you fear to be forgotten, say you will be mine, and I will pen an entire Dune to you.'
'I still don't know that I wish to be,' Leesha said honestly. Jardir's smile began to fade, but she leaned in, giving him a smile of her own. 'But you have earned your kiss.' Their mouths met, and a thrill ran through her greater than any magic.
'What if your mother catches us'' Jardir asked, pulling back when she made no effort to break their embrace.