The Sacrifice

by Nhys Glover

  And when it ended there was silence. I came back to myself and looked at my audience. Four handsome faces stared up at me from the bench. Calun was smiling in wonder, Jaron was open-mouthed in amazement, Darkin stared at me with adoration and... and Rama looked at me as a starving man might stare at a feast laid out for him alone. Unbelieving, hopeful, ravenous.

  I gave a little bow and four sets of hands began to clap as one. I heard the squawking of the airlings, disturbed by the unusual sound, and I laughed with pure joy.

  Chapter Nine

  I came down from my exhilaration when my bladder suddenly made its presence known. I must finally have put enough into my body that it was ready to seek relief.

  It was dark, except for the light afforded by the glowing embers of the fire. The hovel, the barn and the paddock, where the airlings grazed, lay well beyond the light. Not even the moon provided her luminescence, as she had yet to rise. The sky above was a roof of sparkling souls, like tiny gemstones scattered across a black cloth.

  Suddenly that thought led me to consider my own stock of gems. Could I use them to help these men, who had saved my life and were risking theirs even now? One stone might feed them for a year. But would they take it from me? These were proud men, determined men. Money meant nothing to them. Or not more than their values or their hearts.

  I would think on it and wait for the right time to offer what I could. Right now, I had a more pressing matter to attend to.

  Thankful my blush went unnoticed in the darkness, I asked the question I needed an answer to most urgently. "Where is the... the convenience."

  They all frowned at me. I squirmed a little under their bemused gazes.

  "I have drunk too much water and I need the... the convenience." I didn't know what else to call it. In the harem the small rooms with holes in the floor that carried away our bodily waste were called conveniences.

  "Ah, the privy. You need the privy!" Jaron declared, with sudden understanding.

  "I'll show you," Rama announced, jumping to his feet with the determination a man might display when going into battle.

  "No... No, I do not want to disturb you. Just... Just point me in the right direction." My mortification had to have tainted my tone. Being a woman among men was more difficult than I could ever have imagined.

  "We should have shown it to you while it was still light. You'll need to let one of us show you the way now," Darkin announced apologetically.

  Rama acted as if I hadn't spoken. He had retrieved some kind of oil lamp and lit the wick using a still-burning stick from the fire.

  "Come, I'll show you," Rama said again, once he had the glowing lamp in his hand. He gestured for me to come to him and I felt obliged to obey.

  "Rama, remember my warning," Darkin said ominously.

  The blonde man simply nodded and pointed his elbow in my direction. I had no idea what to do. When I just stared at him, he came to my side, claimed a hand and threaded it through his bent arm until our elbows were linked. It was both an intimate gesture and a protective one. Swallowing down my discomfort, I allowed him to lead me away from the fire and around the dark hovel.

  About twenty strides from the back of the dwelling, in a different direction from the barn, I saw a small wooden structure. Along one wall was a waist-high bench on which a tin bowl rested. Under the bench was a tin bucket.

  "There," Rama said, pointing at the door of the small shed. He handed me the lamp. "I'll wait here for you."

  "No... No, please do not feel you have to wait."

  "I can't find my way back in the dark. So I'll wait." His tone was gruff, as if he was as embarrassed as I was by this experience.

  Tentatively, I opened the door. The stench nearly had me closing it again. What I saw inside confused me. There was a large wooden box. No hole in the ground. What was I to do with the box?

  I looked at Rama in consternation. He stared right back impatiently.

  "I know it stinks. That's what privies do. But the lid keeps the flies away."

  "Lid? I do not understand. Where is the... the hole?"

  He sighed heavily. "In the ground, of course."

  "But... I do not see it. Only a box."

  Understanding must have suddenly struck, because he shook his head and leaned into the small shed and lifted the oval shaped wooden lid, which was hinged at the back.

  "You sit on the seat on the box, do what you have to, wipe yourself off with the flannel leaves hanging on the side and then get off and shut the lid. There's a basin at the side you can use to wash your hands, after. "

  Frowning, I tried to take in his instructions. I was to sit on the box? On the seat on the box? Again I tentatively made my way into the small stinking space and saw an oval circle sitting on the box. There was a hole in the middle.

  I placed the lamp on the shelf, closed the door and lifted the tunics. I thought I might be able to stand on the sides of the 'seat' but it was high and there was no step up. Rama called it a seat and told me to sit on it. I would try. After some fumbling, I managed to do what was needed and close the lid again. Relief left me almost exhilarated.

  Hastily, I exited the shed, glad to close the smell in as I shut the door. My hands were greasy from the meat, so I was also glad to make the most of the wash bowl and the sliver of the same soap I'd used in the bath.

  When I was finished, Rama took up the lamp I had put on the bench, and we started heading back, my arm again linked in his.

  "I'm sorry for earlier, Princess. I'm not used to dealing with women like you. I'm no better than a badly broken airling," he said, as if that was all it took to wipe out the pain he had caused me.

  I stopped, forcing him to stop too. Looking up into his shadowy face, I tried to work out how to say what needed to be said. I had to make him understand.

  "I have a twin brother," I started. "All our lives I led the way. The confident one, the curious one, the adventurous one. And he followed me. I protected him.

  "When I was ready to flee for my life I went to say goodbye. I had been sneaking out of the harem for years, waiting for him in our secret spot, thinking he was as desperate to see me as I was to see him. But... But it turns out that everything I had done... all of it... all of me.... was wrong in his eyes. Even the fact that I was a useless girl. He said that once I was dead he would no longer have sleepless nights worrying that I would get him into trouble." I had to stop then because the tears were pressing at the inside of my lids and clogging my throat. I swallowed hard and blinked them away.

  "My brother, my other half of my soul... was happy to be rid of me. Because I was the one who was the favourite, the one who was spoiled and always got her way. I was the princess. And everything about me was... wrong. A good-for-nothing female. At least to him.

  "I tell you this because you are like my brother. You blame me for being me. You say I draw you, I tempt you, I feed your inner beastling. You blame me for being... me. Being here. My mother told me that I would not serve my brother by being less than I was. She said he would always blame me for his misfortunes and his fears, no matter what I did or did not do." Tears were falling now but I could not stop. It had to be said. All of it said.

  "So, I say to you... I do not tempt you. I do not feed your inner beastling. I simply exist. And I cannot be other than who I am. I will not be anything other than who I am. If my presence undoes all your healing then I will go. But if I stay do not try to make me responsible for your problems, do not try to make me behave in ways that suit you better, and do not use me as your easy target again. I. Will. Not. Take. It."

  Throughout my speech Rama had stood beside me silently, his scarred face closed and emotionless. I waited, then, in silence for his reply while the soft, sweet sound of Calun's flute filled the hot night air. It was as if this man and I, who shared the light of one small lamp, were the only people in the world.

  "Have you ever seen a whirlwind?" Rama asked, finally.

  I shook my head, even though I had heard of them, l
ike so much else I had heard of from storytellers.

  "A whirlwind is what it is. It swirls where it will, drawing to it anything not strong enough to withstand its pull. You're a whirlwind, Airsha. And I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight your pull. When you danced ... gods, when you danced, it was like sharp knives of yearning stabbed into my heart, my gut and my sex. I prayed for you to stop, and I prayed for you to go on dancing forever.

  "From the moment you climbed to your feet to fight that man this morning, I have known you were my whirlwind. I fought against your pull as best I could, and I wanted you gone. But... I couldn't have let you go, even then. It was inevitable. I can't let you go now, no matter how much harder you make my efforts to hold on."

  He reached out with one hand and cupped my cheek. The lamp burned benignly in his other hand. His words had mesmerised me, his touch burned me. But I did not pull away. Because I liked the burn.

  Swearing softly, Rama lowered his lips to mine and kissed me. I knew of such kisses, because they were what a wife shared with her husband before delight claimed them both. My mother and father had kissed my cheek, my head, my brow, even my fingers. And I had kissed Airshin and all those I loved the same way. I had never kissed a mouth. Never been kissed on the mouth.

  I did not move as his lips caressed mine. I did not know what to do. I felt a stirring in my chest and a warmth in my core. It was delicious and yet frightening. Forbidden. It was forbidden to do what Rama did to me when he was not my husband.

  "Kiss me back, Airsha, Goddess of the wind," he breathed against my lips. His breath smelled of spirits and I liked it.

  "I... I do not know how," I confessed.

  He shook his head in bemusement. "How's it possible to be so... sheltered. Like pinning an airling from birth."

  Without giving me a chance to answer, he kissed me again, the tip of his tongue sliding over my lips. "Soften your mouth," he breathed, "move your lips as I'm doing. I'll keep still as long as I can while you do."

  Rama held me in his thrall. I would do anything he asked of me. The yearning was growing and it felt like the wind rising. Raw and powerful. His lips still pressed to mine, but were still, so I mimicked him, even going so far as to taste him with the tip of my tongue. His groan sounded as if he was in pain.

  His lips softened and opened slightly, and I felt the insatiable need to taste him more deeply. Would he mind? Would I be doing something wrong? My lessons in pleasing a husband had been sketchy. More detailed instruction would only have come once a husband was chosen for me. A woman did not need to know such things until the time was right.

  All I knew about kissing from the harems was that it was how a husband and wife shared intimacy before they came together. I knew from the guards that kisses could be dirty and greedy. A whore's mouth was a filthy thing, a clever thing. Something men laughed and elbowed each other about.

  Would I be dirty or greedy if I were to just... taste a little more?

  I did it anyway. I had come too far this day to pull back now. I wanted to know what tasting this man's slick inner flesh would feel like on my tongue. And so I did it.

  Rama slid an arm around me, drawing me closer. His breath came in harsh pants and he groaned again. His inner lips tasted slick and smooth and tantalizing, just as I expected. But when his tongue touched mine I jerked back. It was shocking and... and so intimate it frightened me.

  Smiling sadly, Rama made no move to draw me in close again. "I agree with your mother. Who you are... is amazing. I would give my soul to be the one to initiate you into the pleasures of the body. To have you as my own. But I'm not good enough for you. I'm not whole enough. Any comeliness I might have had was cut out of me, inside and out. Though even before that I was a bad seed. I killed a man when I was only fourteen. I smashed his brains out with a jug. And I liked it. Someone like you needs better than me."

  I could not argue with him on his worth because I sensed he might be right about himself. Although I did not know if I did need someone better than him. The need I felt in that moment seemed right. Destined.

  But I had already pushed myself to the limits. Going further would test my sanity. And Rama's.

  Clearing his throat, Rama linked our elbows together again and we began the too-short journey back to the fire.

  Chapter Ten

  I slept the sleep of the dead beside four men that night. A cool breeze had come up, as gentle as the one I had created during my dance, and we all made the most of it from our positions on the portico. Oddly, I had never felt as safe as I did sleeping beside these strangers. Unless it was when I was very young and cuddled up with mother when I was sick.

  As dawn tinted the dark sky with light the men shifted around me and then rose quietly, trying not to disturb me. To show I considered myself a working member of this household now, I too rose and stacked my pallet on top of the pile they had created in the corner of the hovel. I watched Jaron brewing carva on the small wood-burning stove. It had been banked the night before and sprang to life with added fuel and a little air.

  Just like I had, I thought whimsically.

  By the time the carva was ready I was sure I would be able to make it myself next time. Not that I liked the bitter brew. But most men enjoyed it, I had observed, and so I was willing to give them what they needed.

  We broke our fast with the dried bread soaked in oil from the night before. Nothing was ever wasted, it would seem. Had I not experienced starvation so recently, I would have turned my nose up at the tasteless rock, but now I appreciated anything that would quiet the growls in my stomach.

  "I've come up with a plan," Darkin said, as we cleared away the remains of our meagre meal. "I'm going to go into town and buy a few more supplies. At the same time I'll drop some hints that the little vagabond we took under our wing ran off during the night with an airling and part of our supplies. That way, if anyone comes looking for Airsha, they'll be less bothered to check with us here, and too keen to rush on in pursuit. It'll put the Gambler off the scent, too. That bastard doesn't like to take no for an answer."

  It sounded like a good plan, but I was worried about how they would afford more supplies. "Would you be insulted if I offered to pay my way?" I asked as the others considered the plan. "You cannot afford another mouth to feed, and I can help."

  "How?" Rama asked suspiciously.

  I went to the corner under the bench where I had hidden my jewels. I showed them what I had and offered them a single ruby pendant set in gold.

  Darkin held up his hand, as if warding off the stone. "No, keep it. We have enough."

  "If we took that to town and tried to exchange it for coin, people would know who the little hellion we'd taken home must be," Rama agreed.

  "Do you never go further afield. To larger towns?" I pressed. "You could keep it until you did."

  Darkin shook his head again. "We take the airlings to Godslund once a suncycle. That's it. And if we tried to sell that there someone might recognise it."

  I huffed out a sigh of frustration. "But they are a waste just hiding in a corner. If they can help you, why not use just one?"

  "Great wealth would be suspicious for men like us. A few coppers or even a silver I'd take willingly, but the gold in that alone is worth more than my life," Darkin continued.

  "Very well, but I want to sew up my clothes today and I want to repair any of yours that need it. I can embroider. I am not useless."

  "Never useless," Rama said in such a way that I knew he was remembering our conversation last night. "I've some breeches that need the seat mended."

  I smiled as if he had gifted me with gold. "Excellent. Anyone else?"

  Less than a turn of a sandglass later I had a pile of clothing in need of repair, what probably passed as thread and a bronze needle so thick that I was not sure I would be able to push it through the coarse fabric.

  "After you've exercised the raw ones, maybe take Airsha up for a ride. The wind on her face'll go a long way to building her strength aga
in," Darkin told Calun.

  I shot a glance at Darkin and when he nodded at me, I jumped for joy. "Really? I would love to. Yesterday I missed all but the last part of the journey."

  "There wasn't much more to it than that. We'd barely become airborne when we were heading down again. Town's only twenty leagues distant."

  Twenty leagues covered in so fast a time? It was truly amazing. A king who controlled an army of airlings could rule the world. I shuddered as my skin prickled with premonition. That was no way to think. The world was balanced and no one wished to disturb that balance.

  I sat under the portico all morning, doing my best to make small stitches with the huge needle and thick thread. It was a frustrating pastime, and a slow one, as I seemed to create more new holes than fill the ones I was attempting to repair. After a while I worked out that I needed to stitch in from solid weave and use the thread to bridge the distance to the solid weave on the other side. I had to do this repeatedly in both directions before I had a solid enough patch. But then it looked weighty and odd.

  Jaron came in at noon and cut large chunks of cold meat from the haunch they had dangled down the well to keep cool. He studied my work critically for a few minutes and then said, "You waste a lot of thread that way. Ma used to take an old rag and cut out the pieces that were still good, and sew them into the garments she was trying to repair.

  I frowned at my work. I had not even thought to do such a thing. But of course I had heard about patching before. And stories would talk about peasants with patches on their clothes. Clearly, what I was doing was not patching.

  "But you have a very neat hand. I want you to be the one to stitch me up the next time an airling takes a piece out of me." He smiled that flirty grin of his that always melted my heart and left me feeling a little bit giddy.