"And there's fireworks," Nissa went on, not noticing Diribani's distraction. "We'll be back at the palace by then, and can watch from
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the terrace. The show won't be quite as good as the prince's birthday." She separated Diribani's hair into sections and began braiding it. "Almost, though."
Diribani brushed poppies off her lap. "So when may we look forward to the really excellent fireworks?" she teased.
"Prince Zahid's birthday? Just when the weather's turning from bearable to too hot. That would be your"--Nissa counted on her fingers--"Moonbird Month. Not too very long from now: We're halfway through the cool season already."
"Really?" Diribani twisted to look out the window. "I was waiting for it to get colder."
"Not in Eighteenth Province," Nissa said. "You're ready. Oh, boots! Here. You go down with Mahan and Zeen--I'll meet you at the stables. Have the grooms give you a poky horse, my lady. You want a plodder, not one of Lady Ladli's fire-breathers. The road is steep."
The trail dropped so precipitously that Diribani clung to her horse's mane, afraid she would pitch forward between the animal's ears. She might not have agreed to such a rough ride only for the sake of seeing a big diamond, since small ones fell from her lips every day. But for a chance to watch Zahid, even at a distance... At last Diribani understood how Tana felt about Kalyan. The hours between their meetings seemed endless, and yet, in his presence, confusion often tied her tongue. Then she'd spend days thinking of the brilliant things she should have said---to make him laugh, to make him notice her--while not sure exactly what he felt in return. She knew it for foolishness, but that didn't change her body's response.
The horse stumbled, pulling Diribani's attention to her immediate surroundings. When she felt safe enough to steal glimpses
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at the countryside, the contrast amazed her. Thickly forested hills descended in ranks from the flank of the plateau. The gorges between were so steep it looked as if a basket of giant serpents had fallen to earth, then thrashed their way toward the sea, cleaving the earth in their wake.
Not serpents, Diribani corrected herself. Streams. Water ran deep in the valleys, showing glints of green through the dusty foliage. Ruqayya's party, with servants and armed escort, claimed the narrow trail; women carrying jars on their heads stood aside. Partway down, when Diribani's thighs were aching from the effort to stay on her horse, they turned off the trail to traverse the side of a hill. The trees opened up, giving Diribani her first glimpse of a diamond mine.
It looked like a giant latrine pit, was her first thought. Ugly, barren, and swarming with flies. No--those were people, their skin burned dark by the sun, and coated with dust. Before she had traveled much farther, Diribani felt the grit settling on her, too. She licked her dry lips.
Nissa couldn't have seen the motion under Diribani's loosely draped shawl, but the maid kneed her horse over to hand Diribani a water pouch. "See the banners?" Nissa pointed. "Workers will have roped off an area for us, and set up tents for shade."
Gratefully, Diribani sipped the water. "How do they find the diamonds?" Honeysuckle sifted into her shawl. Lacking the threatened feedbag, she had tucked her head covering into her coat collar. This way, she could retrieve any gems she spoke and put them in her saddlebag for Zeen to collect later. The flowers she stuck in her horse's mane. "There's dirt everywhere."
As they picked their way through piles of stone and swarms of
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people, Nissa explained: "Each team has a digging spot. The men break up chunks of rock with their pickaxes. Women and children carry the baskets of rubble to a clay-lined pit. They flood the pit, drain it, and winnow out the sand. Then they rake what's left, and pound it smaller."
"With those wooden mallets?"
"Exactly. Then they rinse it again. They may have to repeat the steps a few times. Finally, they go over the gravel, looking for diamonds."
It looked to Diribani like hot, backbreaking work. "There must be thousands of people here. They don't travel from Fanjandibad every morning. Where do they all live?"
"The villages are that way, I think." Nissa gestured. "The merchants are responsible for the workers' huts and food."
"And water?" Diribani saw young women and girls trudging along the edge of the clearing. They carried large clay jars on their heads. Their backs were straight, so as not to spill the water, but thin shoulders slumped, and dusty arms hung fatigue-limp at their sides. Diribani's neck ached in sympathy. Most of them were her age, or younger.
"They must bring it up from the river." Nissa stood in her stirrups. "Can you ride a little faster, my lady? We don't want to be late."
"The river at the bottom of the gorge?" Diribani said. The note of horror in her voice brought Zeen at a trot. When the guard saw nothing amiss, she eased her horse back. "The trip must take half a day. Why don't they have a stepwell, closer?"
"Too expensive, surely, when people can walk to the river for nothing." Nissa dismissed the idea. "The ground's so hard up here; only diamonds pay for the digging."
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The words echoed in Diribani's ears. Only diamonds pay for the digging. Obviously, the miners couldn't afford to build a stepwell, and their merchant employers didn't choose to. Why should rich men care how many hours of labor were added to a poor girl's lot before she could perform the simplest of household tasks? Bathing an infant, cooking lentils, brewing a pot of tea to warm a cold morning--all required clean water. Diribani knew; she had hauled enough for her own family. And a stepwell was more than a water supply; it was a chance to meet with friends or just take a quiet breath in a long day of chores.
The merchants might not care, but Diribani did. And, thanks to the goddess's gift, she had access to plenty of diamonds, enough to build the empire's most expensive stepwell. Diribani sat straighter on her horse. Now she knew why Naghali-ji had sent her here.
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***
CHAPTER TWENTY Tana
AT last, the estate's hiring clerk sent Tana to the mare barns. Far grander in design than the cow barns, they were built of stone instead of mud brick, with a stall for each animal. Tana fought to keep her expression blank when she saw a red-and-white-striped saddlecloth hanging on a stall door. This must be a regular courier way station, and the property owner an important--as well as wealthy--individual. Whoever he was, he kept his horses in elegance. Trees graced the central courtyard, along with banks of hardy flowers that reminded Tana of Diribani, and a fountain that overflowed into two shallow canals. But even though they were much fancier, the horse barns smelled the same as the cow barns, and attracted as many flies.
Tana gathered that dung sweepers weren't permitted to touch the valuable mares; stablemen were supposed to lead them outside while the stalls were cleaned. This morning there was only one groom, a Believer boy of twelve or thirteen. He kept her and the
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other workers waiting in the main aisle while he returned a mare to her stall.
"Why are these women standing about?" A booming voice made Tana jump.
"Sir, sorry, sir." The groom closed the stall door and rushed past the clump of women leaning on their shovels, heads bent. He bowed to the overseer, a barrel-chested, bandy-legged older man with a whip tucked into his belt. "The rest of the fellows are still in quarters, sick as dogs. My lady sent her own physician. Putrid fever, he said."
The sweepers sidled away from the groom, their shovels clinking on the floor. Behind their backs, free hands cupped like lotus flowers, invoking Sister Payoja, goddess of healing.
The overseer fingered his whip handle. "All of 'em?"
"Yes, sir. He dosed them, but meanwhile there's just me."
"And you are?"
"Atbeg, sir."
The overseer grunted in annoyance. "Well, Atbeg, show me the new girl."
Alarmed, Tana peeked up through her lashes. Her racing heartbeat slowed down when she realized that the white-coat wasn't talking about her.
The mare might have known Atbeg, but she liked Tana better.
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Mincing out of her stall, Jasmine saw her friend and made straight for her. She dragged the groom along with her.
"Courtyard's this way, you cow," he said, but the mare didn't stop until she reached Tana's side. Atbeg puffed out a frustrated breath. "Sorry, sir. I'll bring her outside."
"This will do." While the overseer ran his hands over the mare, Jasmine lipped Tana's head scarf.
Exultation sang in Tana's heart. If Kalyan's horse had arrived recently, he couldn't be far. Thank the twelve, she must have picked the right estate. Unless he'd been injured, or worse. But Jasmine looked healthy; perhaps her master had been well treated also. Tana patted the mare's silky neck for comfort. Unobtrusively, she thought, but when the overseer finished, he spoke directly to her.
"Good with horses, are you?"
Tana cast her eyes down as if she were too shy to speak.
The barrel-chested man grunted again. "Show me you can lead the mare out and tie her up and I'll add a copper to your wages."
"But, sir..." the groom began.
Tana didn't give Atbeg a chance to finish his sentence. She rested her shovel against a wall and twitched the lead out of the boy's hand. Tugging on the strap, she walked toward the courtyard. Calm as milk, Jasmine followed. Tana tied the mare to one of the posts and left her with a final pat.
Inside the barn, the overseer was examining another mare while Atbeg stood by. "The black's still favoring her left foreleg," the older man said. "I want you to add the new white one to the courier rotation. And you"--to Tana--"do what the groom here tells you."
Once the overseer was satisfied that Tana could follow Atbeg's
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directions, he went off to inspect the other barns. Tana's fellow sweepers shoveled out the empty stalls without looking at her, as if worried that, like putrid fever, her extra responsibility might be catching.
For Tana, the day passed quickly. She hadn't worked with horses before, just visited Trader Nikhat's. But they didn't frighten her. By watching the white-coat boy, she learned that confidence was more important than strength in getting the mares to do what she wanted. For a chance to find out what had happened to Jasmine's rider, Tana would have volunteered to tend Prince Zahid's hunting cheetahs. Fortunately, Atbeg didn't expect her to ride the mares. She had only to guide them from stall to garden courtyard, and back to a clean box. The animals humored her. Sister Naghali might have turned her face away, but others of the twelve smiled. Tana breathed a silent prayer of thanks to Father Ghodan, the horse god, for his kindness.
The overseer returned late in the afternoon, as the other sweepers were putting away their shovels. Heads bowed, the women eased down the aisle, ready to collect their wages from the gate clerk and go home. The overseer snapped his fingers at Tana. "You, girl. Stay."
She folded her hands and lowered her gaze against a spurt of glee. If the white-coat had a task for her inside the walls, she could see more of the compound, maybe spot some trace of the kidnapped villagers. Where, oh, where had Jasmine's rider been taken?
The burly man waited for the sweepers to leave. He tugged at his coat collar, as if the white fabric itched. "So, Atbeg?" he demanded.
"Sir, they did finish cleaning this barn." Atbeg sounded apprehensive. "If the men are on their feet tomorrow, we'll make better time with the others."
"Don't count on it," the overseer said flatly. Sweat gleamed on
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his forehead. He wiped it with his sleeve. "The fever's vicious. It's spread to the kitchen and house servants, too. Out flat, most of 'em."
Tana made the lotus sign behind her back.
"Almighty God protect us," the groom muttered.
"One man's burden is another's blessing." The overseer laughed without humor. "You're promoted, Atbeg, to acting head groom in charge of the mares. You'll be responsible for this barn, including any courier mounts that arrive, and the foaling barn, too."
"Yes, sir!"
"Don't go back to your quarters until the other men are better. This barn's stocked with bags of dried peas, wheat, and salt. Good enough for my lord's beasts, and you, too. You'll find cooking pots and blankets in with the travel gear in the storeroom. Eat here, wash here, and sleep in the foaling barn. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." Atbeg sounded subdued.
"You, too, sweeper girl. Eat here, sleep here. Obey Atbeg."
Tana nodded.
"Don't talk much, do you?" The overseer pulled at his collar. "Makes a refreshing change."
"But, sir!" Atbeg exclaimed. "She's a filthy dirt-eater. And a girl. They can't be grooms."
"Word of God." The overseer frowned at Atbeg. "She's healthy enough to lift a shovel and a bucket. Unless you want to care for all the mares by yourself?"
"No, sir."
"It's just for a few days." The overseer fumbled in his coat, then tossed a copper coin in Tana's direction and another at Atbeg. From the groom's delighted expression, his was silver. "No trouble with the girl, eh, Atbeg?" The overseer wiped his face again. "My
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lady's a stickler about the local women, our kind or dirt-eaters, doesn't matter. Leave 'em alone."
"Of course, sir."
Atbeg didn't need to sound quite so... repulsed, Tana thought. Then she remembered she had spent days shoveling muck and sleeping in a nest of leaves. She couldn't smell herself, but others might not be so lucky.
"Good." The overseer put his fist to his mouth and left abruptly. Tana wouldn't be surprised to learn that he was headed for his own bed. Via the latrine pits.
Atbeg polished the coin on his sleeve. He stopped when he noticed Tana watching. "I'll show you the grain bins so you can make us porridge. I have to see to the brood mares."
Tana nodded.
"Wait till my father hears. Acting head groom." The boy flipped his coin and then tucked it into his belt.
She wished him joy on his promotion. Tana was sorry for the sick people, of course, but if illness had so disrupted the household that lowly day laborers were trusted with valuable livestock, who knew what else she might manage? As the overseer had said, a burden for one might mean a blessing for another.
That night, Jasmine received a thorough brushing and an extra measure of grain.
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***
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Diribani
SHE found Zahid on the rooftop terrace, deep in discussion with Ghiyas the steward and a tall man Diribani didn't recognize. The stranger's occupation became clear from the snatches of conversation that reached Diribani's ears as she and Nissa strolled at the far end of the terrace, waiting for a chance to approach the prince. A builder, it appeared; the men were talking about where to put a new palace, adjacent to this one and connected by gardens.
Diribani wondered why the prince was considering it, when this one was so large and so lovely. Her thoughts skittered like squirrels. Other grand houses ringed the fort grounds. The nobles' wives and daughters spent time in the ladies' court, but slept under their own roofs. Did Zahid want a place for his family, when he married? Had he chosen a bride? That news would set the palace abuzz, but Nissa hadn't mentioned it. And a palace would take time to build. No immediate plans, then. Diribani wiped damp palms on her skirts. She had business with the prince; best keep her mind on that.
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The steward's narrow face was familiar, though it was most unusual to see a man other than Ruqayya's brother inside the ladies' court. On the other hand, this terrace did have the best view of the fort grounds, and the guard at the bottom of the stairs had warned them about the prince's guests. Like the other women guards, Zeen didn't veil, but Nissa had put on her h
ead scarf. Diribani rearranged her dress wrap in the agreed-upon style.
The coldest part of the year was passing at a tortoise's imperceptible pace. Today, instead of frost, thick dew beaded the terrace's potted palms and roses. Servants hadn't yet brought out carpets and cushions, and the broad expanse was empty but for their two small groups. So as not to stare at the prince, Diribani leaned on the railing and looked in the other direction, where the land dropped sharply. "Can we see the mines from here, Nissa?"
An orchid fluttered over the railing. Zeen cleared her throat.
Diribani's maid joined her. "It's still a bit misty. This time of year, you get a better view later in the day. But it's that direction." She pointed to one of the narrow valleys, where the fog was lifting in white wisps from the trees.
This time, Diribani turned her head before she spoke, to let Naghali-ji's gifts drop to the terrace. Zeen could collect the jewels later. "Where the fireworks were coming from last night?"
"Exactly."
"Good morning, ladies."
Nissa bowed and backed away. Diribani schooled her expression to serenity before she turned. Ridiculous, the effect one person's voice could have on someone. "Good morning, Your Highness."
The steward and builder had gone. The breeze played with Zahid's dark hair. It fluttered Diribani's dress wrap around her face and stirred
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daffodil petals at her feet. The prince picked up the bright-yellow blossoms and set them on the railing. "Did you enjoy the fireworks?"
"Yes, very much." Diribani shot a sly glance at Nissa. "Though I understand they're better in Moonbird Month."
"Moonbird?" The prince sounded puzzled. Then he laughed. "Oh, those fireworks. I must admit, they're my favorite part of the day's events also."
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