Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 02] - Naamah's Curse

by Jacqueline Carey

  Hasan Dar’s guards found Zoka’s victim in a linen storeroom in the servants’ quarters. She was one of the Rani’s trusted attendants, a sweet girl named Sameera who took pride in her hair-dressing skills and often sang as she worked. She couldn’t have been much more than sixteen years old.

  She was dead, garroted, the flesh of her slender throat swollen around the ligature mark.

  And young Sameera had been tortured before she died. On her left hand, only her thumb and forefinger remained. The other three were bloody stumps with ragged bits of bone protruding from the fresh wounds. Three delicate severed fingers lay scattered on the floor of the storeroom.

  Although Hasan Dar begged Amrita not to look, she insisted on it. She looked for a long, long time.

  “Poor child,” she murmured, stooping to touch the girl’s maimed hand. “You tried to protect me, didn’t you? You held out as long as you could.” Raising the girl’s hand to her lips, she kissed it. “Surely, you will be reborn a warrior, my little brave heart.”

  I wiped tears from my eyes.

  Everyone was silent.

  In the silence, the Rani Amrita stood. Twice in recent days, she had been frightened, badly frightened. Twice, she had nearly been killed.

  Now she was angry.

  I would not have thought my lovely, laughing lady Amrita could be terrible in her anger; but she was. There was a vein of dignity and quiet strength that ran deep beneath her kindness and charm, and this deed had tapped it.

  “Enough!” Her voice rang, and her dark eyes flashed. “This is unacceptable. I will not remain a prisoner in my own palace, starting at shadows. I will not allow my people to be tortured and killed for their loyalty. No more fear, no more suffering. Enough. I do not care if we have not found the perfect plan. We are going to Kurugiri. I am going to Kurugiri. Once and for all, we will put an end to this!”

  Ravindra swallowed hard, but he did not protest.

  No one did.

  I glanced at Bao, leaning on his staff. He nodded at me, promising whatever aid was required.

  I glanced at Ravindra, thinking how I had flung the twilight around him.

  I thought about Jagrati and Kamadeva’s diamond, and how I had been able to sense them in the twilight.

  I thought about how Amrita had placed herself between me and Jagrati in the meadow, her hands raised in a warding mudra, holding the Spider Queen herself at bay.

  “My lady Amrita,” I said softly. “I think I know how to take Kamadeva’s diamond out of play.”

  Filled with fierce determination, Amrita turned her lustrous gaze on me. “Tell me.”

  I did.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  No one loved the plan, and our young chess-master Ravindra liked it least of all.

  “It’s very dangerous, Mama-ji!” he said in an unwontedly frightened tone. “What if Moirin…” He made a helpless gesture. “Falls victim again?”

  “I won’t,” I murmured. “Not this way.”

  “She won’t,” Amrita said with conviction. “Not with Bao-ji at her side, not with me there. I will not allow it.”

  Bao met my gaze. “If we’re to survive the maze, it will require your magic after all, Moirin—even before we reach Kurugiri. There’s no other way. We’ll have to kill in stealth, you and I.”

  “I know,” I said steadily. “And there is no honor in it. But I do believe that the stakes are high enough that the Maghuin Dhonn Herself will forgive me.”

  Ravindra’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

  “No, young highness,” I said honestly to him. “Very little in life is certain. But I am quite sure that if we navigate the maze, I can find Jagrati and encompass her in the twilight, rendering her and Kamadeva’s diamond invisible for a time.”

  “A time,” he echoed.

  “A time is long enough for us to secure the fortress,” Hasan Dar said in a pragmatic voice. “That is all we need. Once it is done, there will be too many of us for her to contend with.”

  “Once we have gained entrance to the fortress, she will make her stand in a smaller place.” Bao pointed at the drawing of Kurugiri’s layout. “Here in the throne room is my guess. We will not be able to fit more than a score of men in there.”

  “How many can she control at once?” Hasan Dar inquired. “Can she force them to turn on their fellows?”

  “I don’t know,” Bao admitted. “Only that the compulsion to do her bidding is powerful, but it can be overridden.”

  “How?”

  “Love.” Bao glanced at me, eyes crinkling in a smile of rare sweetness. “It is a force strong enough that it allowed me to walk away from her. It allowed the Rani to protect Moirin. Kamadeva’s diamond commands a powerful desire, but there is no love in Jagrati, only rage and hatred. So. I suggest you meditate on those you love, commander, and advise your men to do the same, whether it be their wives and sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, priests and mentors, or their love for and loyalty to the Rani Amrita herself. Love, and love alone, is the force that will allow you to resist.”

  It was not a speech anyone would have expected Bao to make, me included. Hasan Dar inclined his head in surprised respect. “I will do that, Bao-ji.”

  “Good.” Bao returned his attention to the map. “If I may make one more suggestion, I would advise dividing your men into two companies. Jagrati will have Lord Khaga and every last man standing guarding her.” He tapped the map. “The harem will be unguarded.”

  The commander followed his thoughts. “So if everything else goes wrong, we can still rescue those poor unfortunates.”

  Bao nodded. “Jagrati allows Lord Khaga his harem as a sop to his pride, a place he can go to prove his manhood when she denies him to dally with his assassins. Whatever else happens, we should plan to free the harem.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Counting the children?” Bao frowned in thought. “Twenty-five or thirty, perhaps. I do not know for sure. I was only allowed there once to search for Moirin.”

  “There are children in that place?” Amrita asked in horror.

  “Yes, highness.” Bao was silent a moment. “I do not think they were treated cruelly, at least not as children. The Falconer finds them distasteful, and avoids them. Even a woman bearing a child is repulsive to him.” His mouth tightened. “I heard it said that in the harem, it was every woman’s goal to conceive a son.”

  “Why?” I asked, perplexed.

  He looked askance at me. “If a woman bears him a son, the Falconer would not return to her bed. And she would not have to worry about a daughter growing up and being forced to share his.”

  My stomach churned. “And you said it wasn’t terrible there?”

  “I was in a very dark place within myself, Moirin,” Bao said quietly. “The hatred that Jagrati carries within her, it is like a sickness. I am still learning to live in brightness again.”

  “It is not your fault, Bao-ji!” Ravindra said with indignant loyalty, his narrow hands forming a mudra of reassurance. “The gods always test the strongest heroes, the ones they love best in the world. Surely you passed!”

  Bao smiled at him with genuine affection. “You are quite the hero yourself, young highness, rushing to protect your mother as you did! It would have gone far worse for me if you hadn’t.”

  “Truly?” Ravindra flushed with pleasure.

  “Truly.”

  Thus for better or worse, our plan was established. It would take some days to assemble a sufficient force and arrange for supplies and other necessities, such as a battering ram that would have to be carried through the winding maze on foot.

  In the meantime, we lived in fear.

  Hasan Dar insisted that the Rani and her son continue to sleep in the hidden room. It made sense, for although the assassin Zoka had tortured the secret out of poor Sameera, he had taken it to his death.

  Still, I could not blame either of them for being reluctant to return there.

  “Would it help if Moirin and I sta
yed with you?” Bao offered. “I am sure it is against protocol, but…”

  My lady Amrita fingered her bruised throat. “Yes,” she said gratefully. “It would help very much, thank you.”

  I didn’t think there was room in the small space for another bed. “We can put a pallet of blankets on the floor between you.”

  “Even better!” Ravindra clapped his hands together with glee. “Bao-ji can share my bed, and Moirin can share yours, Mama-ji. It will be as though we were a large family, like your family in Galanka, eh?” The notion delighted him. “Yes, I will pretend Bao is my older brother, and you will pretend Moirin is your little sister.”

  “I don’t think—” I began diplomatically.

  “Would that make you happy, jewel of my heart?” Amrita asked her son. He nodded. She summoned a weary smile. “Then if Moirin and Bao do not mind, we shall do so, and have a game of pretending.”

  Bao made a show of weighing the matter. “Do you snore, young highness?” he asked in a serious tone. “Because I cannot abide snoring. Do you steal the blankets at night? Because I do not like to be cold.”

  Giggling, Ravindra shook his head. “No, older brother! I promise, I do not do either thing.”

  Amrita touched my hand. “Do you mind?”

  I smiled at her. “What do you think, my lady?”

  She gave me a sidelong glance, a hint of her familiar, amused sparkle returning to her eyes. “I think I am very glad to see my son happy in the midst of this nightmare. I think your bad boy has a very large heart.” She caught my hand and squeezed it fondly. “And I think you do not mind at all, little sister.”

  Of course I didn’t.

  Even so, my nerves were strung tight that evening as Bao and I ascended the narrow stairway to the hidden room to ensure it was safe, both of us wrapped in the twilight. The memory of the assassin Zoka’s attack was fresh in my mind. Bao searched every corner, peered under the beds, over the balcony, his staff at the ready. Not until he nodded at me did I kindle the lamps and release the twilight, the bright-burning wicks turning from cool silver to flickering gold.

  Safe; we were safe.

  This time it was true.

  It was a little bit funny, a little bit awkward, and altogether sweet as we turned our backs on one another to change into sleeping attire. The beds creaked as we climbed into them, a comforting, homely sound.

  I was careful not to touch my lady Amrita, not wanting to presume on her affection.

  “Oh, don’t be foolish, Moirin,” she chided me, laying her head on my shoulder. “All of us need all the comfort we can find. I am glad you are here.”

  Relieved, I held her. “So am I.”

  Her dark eyes glimmered at me, and she put her lips close to my ear. “Listen to our boys.”

  Ravindra was telling Bao a tale about one of his favorite Bhodistani heroes, the great archer and warrior Arjuna, who was reluctant to do battle because of the many deaths it would cause. “But Lord Krishna convinced him it was his duty to protect his people,” he said in a solemn tone. “I think that is why my mother has decided she must go to Kurugiri. Do you think you could convince her to let me come, Bao-ji? You said I was a great help today.”

  “So you were, little brother,” Bao said soothingly. “But you have a different responsibility. You must remain here with your tutor to remind us all what we are fighting for.”

  Ravindra sighed. “Because I am too young?”

  “You are very brave, but you are not a warrior yet.” Bao tickled him. “For example, warriors do not giggle.”

  It was a boy’s laughter, helpless and unfettered, reminding me once more to be grateful that even in the midst of fear and darkness, love and laughter could survive. Amrita smiled quietly in the dim moonlight spilling from the balcony, her thoughts echoing mine. “I think your Bao is good for my Ravindra,” she murmured. “My son is such a serious boy. It is good to hear him laugh, especially during such a dreadful time.”

  “I think your Ravindra is good for my Bao,” I said softly in reply. “He is helping him learn to live in brightness again.”

  Amrita shivered against me. “I pray to all the gods that we are given the chance to do so,” she said in a low voice.

  I thought of Sameera’s severed fingers lying on the storeroom floor, of the shifting fires of Kamadeva’s diamond, and Jagrati’s terrible beauty; and I shivered, too. I held Amrita closer, breathing in the flowers-and-spice scent of her skin, and kissed her hair.

  If I failed her in Kurugiri, I would never, ever forgive myself.

  “I pray so, too, my lady,” I murmured. “I pray so, too.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  Three days later, we departed for Kurugiri.

  Although he had wept at their first parting, this time Ravindra was dry-eyed and grave, every inch the solemn young prince once more. The gravity of the situation had become all too real to him, and I think he understood that if his mother didn’t return, he would be called upon to rule their people in a time of fear. He stooped to touch our feet in a gesture of respect, and embraced us all in turn.

  “You will do your best to keep my mother safe, Bao-ji?” he asked.

  “I will, highness.” Bao pressed his palms together and bowed. “Moirin will, too,” he added. “She is as skilled an archer as your Arjuna, you know.”

  It won the faintest of smiles from the boy. “Although I do not believe it, it is good to hear anyway.”

  Last of all, Ravindra embraced his mother. Amrita held him tenderly, whispering in his ear. When she turned away, there were tears in her eyes.

  I closed mine, whispering a soft prayer to the Maghuin Dhonn Herself to grant me strength.

  I would need a very great deal of it.

  Once more, we set out in procession through the streets of Bhaktipur. This time the mood was altogether somber. We were riding to war, not to a parley. There was no hidden gambit to give us the upper hand. So much of our plan hinged on my ability to summon the twilight and hold it for a very long time, to use it to kill with stealth in the deadly maze, praying all the while that the Maghuin Dhonn Herself did not withdraw Her gift from me for using it thusly. If She did, I would be useless when we reached Kurugiri.

  My lady Amrita had teased me once about carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and today it felt like it.

  Folk in the street bowed as we passed, low and deep. Some went to their knees, pressing their brows to the ground. Many of them had been afraid for their much-loved Rani the first time.

  This time, all of them were.

  Beside me, Bao breathed the Five Styles as he rode, his expression at once fierce and calm. His diadh-anam burned as bright and clear as a bonfire within him, calling to mine. I took heart from it. Surely, if the Maghuin Dhonn Herself disapproved of what we meant to do, Her spark would not shine so brightly.

  Although we hadn’t done anything yet.

  Retracing our steps, we made camp in the same meadow the first evening. I could not help but remember the last time we had been there, all of us defeated and dispirited in the wake of our failure, and me racked with unholy desire, shuddering to the marrow of my bones with it, Jagrati’s predatory face swimming before my eyes.

  I was afraid of her, and afraid of myself, too.

  In the privacy of the tent I shared with my lady Amrita and Bao, I prayed to Naamah, begging her to have mercy on her errant daughter, begging her to let me keep her gift a blessing, and not a curse.

  “I have tried to use it well, brightest of ladies,” I whispered. “I know I have not always been wise or strong, but I have always tried. I am still trying. Please, help me.”

  In response, I had a sense of Naamah’s grace enveloping me like a cloak, filled with warmth and love and desire; but there was regret in it, too. Her gift was a double-edged sword that cut both ways. Not even she could make it otherwise.

  But there was another offer the bright lady Naamah could make, and I felt it, words rising through my consciousness like bubbles
from the eddies of a clear-running stream, each one perfect and glistening.

  One by one, the words were strung together to form a single, terrifying query, spoken as clearly to me as Naamah had ever spoken through me.

  Do you wish me to take it from you?

  I caught my breath, my skin prickling with awe. Tears stung my eyes; and whether they were tears of terror or relief, I couldn’t have said. There was sorrow and curiosity behind the offer, but it was genuine.

  Naamah could withdraw her gift from me.

  My heart ached at the thought, and my diadh-anam flared in alarm. The Maghuin Dhonn Herself did not wish it so.

  Neither did I.

  I gazed at Bao, at his familiar face with its high, wide cheekbones, dark eyes glittering above them. And at my lovely lady Amrita, who gazed back at me with worried perplexity. I thought about all the people in my life I had loved and desired, from my lost Cillian slain too soon to my sweet boy Aleksei—and all that lay between them. Even the ill-advised but compelling Raphael de Mere-liot with his healer’s hands, and, of course, my beautiful, mercurial lady Jehanne. My valiant princess Snow Tiger, trusting me enough to reveal an unexpected playful streak that had delighted me so.

  I could not betray those memories. And for whatever reason Naamah had seen fit to grant her gift to a child of the Maghuin Dhonn when she called my father to my mother, there must be some purpose in it.

  “No,” I murmured. “No. Please, do not take it away from me, goddess.”

  Naamah did not. I felt her presence fade, leaving her gift intact.

  I sighed with profound relief.

  “Moirin, who in the world were you talking to?” Bao inquired.

  “Naamah,” I said honestly. “I think… I think she offered to take her gift away from me. And I refused.” I swallowed hard. “I hope that was not a very bad mistake.”

  Bao came over and put his strong arms around me, holding me hard. I leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the bright flame of his diadh-anam entwining with mine. “Moirin without her eternal and perplexing desires would not be Moirin,” he whispered against my hair. “You did the right thing.”