by Kate Elliott
“Is it decided, that they’ll go south as spies?” asked Joss. “I am not sure I approve.”
“I think it’s an interesting plan,” said Anji. “Although I hold out little hope they’ll discover much of interest. If the Red Hounds scent their intentions, they won’t survive. You must understand the risks, Isar.”
The talk of marriage had settled Isar’s mind. “We’ll put forward the coin for the expedition.”
“I want my own share,” said Keshad. “My own profit.”
Marshal Joss pressed a hand to Kesh’s shoulder, forced him to look into his eyes. For the first time, Keshad shrank back. The Silvers were strict, everyone knew that. Captain Anji was a soldier, a dangerous man who knew how to kill. But Joss, for all his careless charm and his flirting ways and—so it was whispered—a tendency to drink too much, had the gaze of a man whose honesty could not be bought or bargained with. He would walk with you every step of the way, until you crossed his line.
“Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons? That you want to proceed?”
“I’m doing this,” said Kesh. “And you can take my offer, or leave it.”
“Bold words,” said Joss. “Spoken passionately.”
“Eliar,” said Mai, “are you really going to sacrifice her happiness in exchange for being allowed to go, when if you would only wait and be patient—?”
Eliar turned away, bracelets jangling. Shoulders heaving, he stamped down the steps and strode off into the garden.
“Mai,” murmured the captain, “this is Ri Amarah business, not ours.”
Bowing her head, she hid her eyes behind a hand.
Kesh knew. They all did. It might as well have been shouted. In exchange for getting to do what he wanted, run away—the best phrase for it!—on an adventure just to scratch his own festering itch, the cursed Silver would acquiesce to forcing his sister into an unwanted marriage no doubt with some old goat of a lecher eager to seize on her astounding beauty. No one would squeak, because that was what people did: They married off their young ones according to what benefited the clan.
Not if he had anything to do with it. The roads to Nessumara were not safe, and might not be safe for many months to come. They couldn’t haul her off yet. He had time.
One way or another, he would find a way to save her.
36
They camped on rough ground several mey outside the city of Horn where, years ago, a battle had been fought. An overhang sloped deep into an outcropping of rock, giving enough shelter that they dared build a fire and boil rice. Shai whittled. Zubaidit cleaned se leaves with a scraper. Tohon fed the fire one dry stick at a time to keep the heat even under the pot. Edard was on watch. The other three had crept away to another nook in the outcropping, but even so, Shai thought they were being awfully noisy, all that giggling and enthusiastic panting.
“I have a question,” said Tohon, twisting his ear as he studied the flame.
When he faltered, Zubaidit looked up. “There’s little you could say that would offend me, Tohon.”
The scout probed the fire with a green stick, maneuvering a hot flare under the belly of the pot. “Sometimes it is hard to know what I am asking. Among the Qin, we are not so—well—so free with all this.”
“I’ll talk to them. What possessed them to get into it now, I can’t imagine. I thought they had more self control. We could be attacked at any time, as they know, and they’re—”
Tohon coughed.
She chuckled. “Sorry.”
He raised a hand to show no offense taken, and glanced at Shai. But Shai had nothing to say; he was more concerned with stifling the signs of arousal in his own body, because it was difficult not to pay attention to the whispered encouragements, the moans and groans. Whew! He bent his knife to the wood and shaved away a rough bump.
“You are a whore,” said Tohon.
“A hierodule,” corrected Zubaidit without heat. “A whore takes coin. I serve the goddess, and give freely in the act of worship. Eridit’s all right otherwise, it’s just she’s got a compulsion to get every male she meets chasing her ass. It’s cursed tiresome. Anyway, she’s one of Hasibal’s pilgrims, so don’t think this is part of the Devourer’s worship.”
Ladon staggered out of the darkness, tying closed his jacket. “Aui! I didn’t know anyone could be so flexible!”
Tohon and Zubaidit broke into laughter. Shai covered his eyes just as Veras, in the nook, came to climax on a series of rising yips. Everything seemed very hot. He ached.
Edard stomped into the light, bow in hand. “I’m of a mind to send you three back to Olossi. Could you be any stupider after what we’ve already been through? Eh, Ladon?” He raised his voice. “Eh, Veras? As for you, Eridit, you deserve a whipping.”
“Promise?” came her bright voice. “I can tell you just the way I like it.”
“What the council was thinking I don’t know, since you two lads are as worthless as any rubbish I’ve stuck my foot in. I guess your clans paid them off, eh? Eridit at least is useful as a spy, and for impressing the cursed savages, and for that matter, now we know she can shave every cursed soldier in the enemy’s army until they beg for mercy and surrender. Get your ass in here, Veras. You can’t even report for watch duty on time, too busy getting your sword sheathed.”
Veras hurried in, wiping his mouth. “Shut it up, you canting ass. She sheathed you a few days ago, didn’t she? You angry you’re not enough for her?”
Tohon scratched at his ear, he and Zubaidit exchanging a glance.
“Don’t give me any of your piss, Veras. You were given explicit instructions when you volunteered for this expedition. I’m in charge.”
“Bet you wish I was like Shai, here, and never said a word, eh?” He mumbled a rude word under his breath.
Eridit sauntered in, wearing a cotton shift that left little to the imagination and loose trousers slung low around her hips Hu! Even knowing she strutted around that way on purpose, he could not look away.
“Is it my turn?” asked Tohon.
Zubaidit grunted with choked-down laughter.
“Ouch.” With a rueful grin, Eridit got her hair twisted up and fixed with a comb, then lowered her hands to splay on her hips as she surveyed the unhappy fireside scene. “I earned that, didn’t I? Sorry. I should have known better.”
“This is not an entertainment, and we’re not your audience.” Edard was red-faced and stewing. “You three could get us all killed. We’ve stayed one night too many out here, hoping to find some cursed leavings from the battlefield to console our mute friend there. I’ve had enough. Time to move on. And once we’re past Horn, the more likely we are to run into trouble. Gods help us all if you three have your trousers down when those bastards find us. Can you two lads get that through your ass-crazed heads?”
“Rice is done,” said Tohon.
Smelling sweaty and salty, Eridit sank down beside Shai. He eased away, making her smile. In a huff, Veras grabbed his sword—his fighting sword—and stomped out to take the watch. The scrape of his feet as he climbed the outcropping serenaded them while Tohon spooned out rice onto se leaves. They ate in silence. Shai tried not to look at Eridit, but she was magnificent with her lustrous black hair, her glowing brown skin, her sleek curves, her inviting smile and coy glance. Zubaidit made him nervous; Eridit made him hard.
“I guess I wasn’t thinking,” said Ladon suddenly. “I’ll do better. I know I was fortunate to be chosen. It’s just—” He looked at Eridit, and chuffed out a breath between closed lips. “Aui! That was something! Do they do it with three at the temple, Bai?”
“Did you ever ask?” retorted Zubaidit.
“You’d be surprised what’s available at the temple if you think to ask,” said Eridit with a purr that made Shai’s whole body shudder. She crept a bare foot over to rub against Shai’s, and with his ears burning and his face aflame, he jerked his foot away.
“Leave the lad be,” said Tohon quietly. “He’s not accustomed
to the ways folk have here.”
“You outlanders are a puzzle,” agreed Eridit good-naturedly. “Is it true you’ve no temples to the Merciless One?”
“We do not.”
“How do young people meet the goddess for the first time, if they can’t go to the temple? How do folk married by their clans get their pleasure if their partner’s not to their taste, or if one is not fashioned that way? Even if they do like each other, how do they learn new tricks, keep things fresh, eh?”
“It’s not our way,” said Tohon. “A man marries.”
“That’s it?” Edard pulled a comical grimace. “Only to have relations with the person your clan chose for you? Never to worship the Merciless One?”
“A man may have more than one wife, of course. If he can afford her. Keep them satisfied. A mistreated wife can appeal to her family and raise a feud. Everyone knows that.”
“And a woman can have more than one husband?” Eridit asked with a teasing grin. “Like they say the lendings do? That sounds fun.”
“That would not happen. Also, a man may go to the brothel for relief. Or buy a slave for a concubine.”
Eridit frowned. “What about women? What are they to do? For relief?”
“Women aren’t so free,” said Tohon. “If you were my daughter, or my wife, I’d have to whip you for such behavior.”
“The hells you would!”
Tohon had a sweet smile. “We are not in my country. Now we are Hundred folk.”
“I’m going to sleep,” said Edard.
Rain spattered the rocks. On the outcropping above, where he was keeping watch, Veras swore as he scrambled for shelter.
“This smoke is getting to me,” said Ladon. “I’ll go over where we—eh—anyway, it’s dry there.” He walked out, hunched under his short cloak as if he was still embarrassed. Edard followed him. Zubaidit strolled to the mouth of the overhang, where she leaned against the rock and stared into the night, her head tilted at a pensive angle.
Tohon hooked the pot’s handle and lifted it off the fire, setting it on the dirt nearby and covering the mouth with a lid. “If I may say so, lass,” he said to Eridit in a pleasant voice, “you do yourself no honor by teasing the men so they are set against each other. You may get attention, but you do not get respect.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t intimidate me, Tohon. I get masses of respect, flowers and gifts heaped at my feet.”
“Have you ever killed a man?”
“I’ve slain many! They fell at my feet. And wept with pleasure.” She looked Shai up and down with such a pressure of sensuality that he wished he had the courage to beg her to stop. Her dark eyes and thick lashes were beacons. Her hips slid sideways as she leaned toward him.
“Shai’s a good boy, but he’s young and untested and likewise raised in a town where a lad like him hasn’t much chance to meet a woman like you. Anyone can kill a man who is unarmed and unprepared.”
She shifted away from Shai, her gaze fixed on the scout. “Aui! Are you saying I can’t seduce you, Tohon?”
“You can’t. Marry me, maybe. But I don’t think we’d suit.”
She laughed so hard that Zubaidit turned from her contemplation of the rain and walked back to the fire. “I’ll win this duel. I’ll wager you on it.”
“When I scout, I don’t play games.” Despite the even tenor of his voice, the words were a warning that cracked her so hard she got to her feet and stamped outside into the rain, pouting.
He studied his palms in the light of the fire, unaffected by her outburst. “What think you, Zubaidit? Split up Ladon and Veras, and they will get smarter. Together, they goad each other. If one is reckless, the other must be, also. Edard is strong, but he is no leader.”
“He’s well connected. Branches of his clan run river transport all over the Hundred. If anyone can haul soldiers by boat or move oil of naya in bulk to combat the northern army, they can.”
“I see his value. But he needs a guiding hand, and he will not take one. As for her, she should be at home birthing healthy children.”
“Are you saying a woman has no place on this expedition?”
“You are a woman. Eridit is skillful at disguise. She collected useful information in Horn three days ago. And that tale she sang had real power. But she has never actually killed a man. We cannot know if she is prepared for what will come. Why did the temple council send her?”
“And the Hieros agree to it? I don’t sneer at her ability to disguise herself, ask questions, and chant tales. She’s proven herself more valuable so far than the militiamen and the ordinand. Because truly, I ask myself if those four are the best Olossi could put forward for such a crucial expedition. Have we become so ill prepared, all of us?”
“We soon find out.”
“So we will. I’m going to sleep.”
He nodded. “I will take first watch. I wake you later.” He began scraping clean the used se leaves. “Shai,” he added, without looking up, “best you catch some sleep, also.”
“And I wish you would stop talking so much, little brother,” said Zubaidit from her blanket.
Stung, Shai sheathed his knife and wrapped up the carving in a strip of cloth. “Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than to open it and be proved one.”
“Wit to go with those brawny arms!” Chuckling, she yawned and turned over.
He settled against the rock wall, where even if it rained hard, he’d be sheltered. When he closed his eyes, he thought of Eridit. He was hot all over. Impossible to sleep in this state. He herded his thoughts to cooler pastures. Stuck without horses, they’d trudged east-northeast for many days, careful not to stray into the Lend. Edard had suggested again and again that they return to Olossi and get new gear, but Tohon and Zubaidit had refused. Horses were useful, but not necessary. Like himself, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
SHAI DID NOT like to think about things that bothered him. If he did, then he felt as if they nipped at his heels wherever he walked. As Eridit was doing this morning as he trudged a final time over the remains of a battlefield.
“It has to be the battle where your brother was lost,” she was saying. “Everyone I talked to in Horn agreed there had been a cadre of outlanders with the troop. No one had seen anything like them. The time is right, if you think he could have died three years ago.”
He stooped to turn over a rock. Bugs swarmed over white roots, like thoughts hiding from the light. He settled the rock back in place.
She went on. “The odd thing is, no one knew where the outlanders came from, or where they were going. Or who the men were who attacked them and wiped them out.”
They reached the highest point in the tumble of rocks where they had made their camp. Shai halted in the shadow of a huge rock to survey the grass and scrub growing in the hollow beyond. There were remains scattered all the way from the banks of a distant stream cutting down the far slope to these outcroppings, as though the men fighting had done it on the run.
“The folk I talked to said everyone died in the battle. But I think a few of the outlanders were still alive. From what folk let slip, the Horn folk came through afterward and slit the throats of the wounded rather than try to heal them. The other group ran away.”
“Folk lie.”
“It seems likely.” She rested a hand on his elbow.
He shifted away.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex.”
He turned away so she wouldn’t see how red he was. “I went to the temple in Olossi.”
“One time, I hear.”
“I’ve been to brothels in Kartu Town.” Only twice, but he needn’t say that! Anyway, the girls there had been glazed on sweet-smoke, unable to distinguish one man from another.
“Some things in life can’t be bought or sold.”
“You keep slaves here.” He met her gaze defiantly. Let the Hundred folk preen and spout about their temples; that didn’t make them better than the people of Kar
tu Town.
“Sure we do. There are folk who like that a person hasn’t any choice. I think it’s disgusting.” She pressed his shoulder back until he was caught against the rock, then leaned against him. “What do you think?”
Ragged corners of rock poked painfully into his back. “Slaves have no will of their own,” he said hoarsely. He could feel the pressure of her all along the length of his body.
“What does that mean?”
“They are disgraced. They have no honor.”
“Maybe so, or maybe they were just unlucky.” She licked her lips in a manner meant to make him crazy, and it did. “I wasn’t asking about slaves anyway.” She traced the line of his body from chest down his torso to a hip, and slid her hand around to cup one buttock. “Aui! You have a good, firm shape. We could do it in the crevice over there, and no one the wiser.”
“Stop,” he whispered.
She ground her hips against his until he thought he would burst. “You’re not going to find any trace of your brother after four days looking over this cursed field. I’m bored waiting around, and when I get bored I get in a devouring mood, even if I am one of Hasibal’s pilgrims. So I’m going to devour you, right now, because you want it, you’re just too shy to say so. You need a little spice to heat you up, get that . . . tongue . . . of yours slick.”
She steered him to the crevice, a slit mostly covered by a fall of vegetation sprinkled with orange flowers. He caught a whiff of their sweet scent as she dragged him through the vines. She pressed him down on the dry dirt floor and peeled back his clothing. At first she sat astride him fully clothed, teasing him with her hands and lips as he groaned and writhed, rocking herself against him until she gasped to a climax. Then she loosed her own trousers and straddled him.
He gasped and moaned, delirious, mounting, gone.
“I knew that would be fast,” she said, hands on his shoulders, her pink tongue peeping out between slightly parted lips. “You’ll last longer next time.” She stroked his torso. “Whew! You have a body a woman could just devour again and again. Do you want to try it a second time?”
