The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1)

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  “I suppose it went as well as could be expected,” Grau continued. “I told them I want you to be treated like any other guest. Let me find you something dry to wear for dinner.”

  He brought her a long tunic that belonged to his mother. She was swimming in it, but at least the cut was meant to be loose. She folded some of the excess fabric under the sash to keep the hem off the floor.

  Grau had also changed, into a calf-length tunic of dark blue, with the skirts slit into four panels beneath the black sash belt. She had always found this to be a rather dashing style. Once, she had seen sword dancers on the street wearing them, the four panels twirling as they moved through the forms.

  A few candles lit the long table, with a spread of rice with smoked fish, stewed vegetables and dark green salad. Now another young man was here, bearing a strong resemblance to Grau—one of the brothers, obviously. A young woman was rushing to the table as well. She was nearly as tall as Grau, and wore a shirt and trousers, which didn’t quite seem to meet with parental approval judging by the frowns of Grau’s father and mother. Her hair was in a coiled braid like a crown around her head, but strands had broken free.

  “You’re late,” the brother said. “So time consuming to put on clean trousers for dinner.”

  “Oh, hush.” She plopped into a chair and reached for the wine.

  “Velsa, this is my little sister Preya,” Grau said. “And my older brother Agrin. He’s the only one still at home, but not for long.”

  “You got the latest circulations in town, didn’t you, Grau?” asked Grau’s father.

  “Yes—they’re still in my bag. Should I fetch them?”

  “Velsa could get them,” Grau’s father said.

  “No, I want her to just relax,” Grau said. “And I’m the one who knows where I put them.”

  “I spent two hundred and twenty ilan on her, so I hope you’re planning on having her do something!”

  “I’ll be right back,” Grau said irritably. He rushed up the stairs.

  His mother gave Velsa a gentle look and then said, “Garen, I know the whole thing was your idea, but I think you’d better stay out of it.”

  “It’s a lot of money,” he muttered, spooning sauce onto his rice. He glanced at Velsa when he put the bowl of vegetables aside, and then craned his neck closer. “What’s around your neck? That isn’t a golden band, is it?”

  The rest of Grau’s family also looked at her now.

  She drew her hands into her lap. This was the first time in days her clothing had even put the band on display. “It is, sir, but—I don’t have any telepathy. I’ve always had this and it blocks my abilities.” Of course, if she really had calmed Fern, this was no longer entirely true.

  “What in the seven curses… Grau!”

  Grau came back with an arm full of bound pamphlets. This had been one of his last stops in town.

  “She’s telepathic?” his father cried.

  “No. I mean, not really, it’s under control. She has a golden band.”

  “But of all the concubines to choose…”

  Agrin seemed amused. He said, “Pa, she has a golden band and papers. What else is Grau supposed to say? Maybe she was the best looking girl they had.”

  “Don’t they all look the same?” Grau’s father said. “I worry that the time may come when Grau could get in trouble just for having a telepath with him, bands and papers aside. If we go to war, and everyone’s on edge…”

  “She isn’t a Miralem,” Grau said. “She’s a Fanarlem. She might become valuable. And the Halnari are Miralem too, but they’re our allies. No one seems to mind that they have telepathy.”

  “I think Grau’s right,” his mother said. “Lord Jherin always wants loyal telepaths. He pays good money for them. Not that it matters when she has a band.”

  “Hrmph.” His father opened a pamphlet to read over his plate. “Maybe. It all makes me nervous until I know which way the wind is blowing.”

  Grau’s mother and siblings reached for the rest of the pamphlets. Pages opened all around the table.

  “It makes me nervous to send Grau to the border with all this tension,” his mother murmured. “Lord Jherin promises so much, but it’s nothing to him if some boys out in the wilderness get sent to the slaughter…”

  “It’s just a patrol,” Grau’s father said. “Don’t think too much of a few stories. You have to remember how many miles the border goes on for, and most of the trouble comes from bandits and nomads.”

  “Grau said there were dragons!”

  “I said there weren’t dragons,” Grau said. “Because it’s true. That’s completely absurd.”

  “Assumptions like that are how people get killed,” his mother said firmly.

  “This reminds me,” Grau said. “Do you know what happened to the Marnow farm, exactly?”

  “Tornado,” Agrin said.

  “A real tornado?” Grau asked. “Or a magic one?”

  “Well, it’s a funny thing about the Marnows,” his father said. “A few months back, I heard, some men came up the river from Atlantis and asked to buy their land and they said no. Then this tornado hits, and now they’ve decided to say yes.”

  “So that’s how it is.” Grau gripped his fork. “I knew they wouldn’t sell willingly. I came across some very ill-mannered soldiers in the barn.”

  “Don’t worry, the powers that be won’t come this far,” his father said. “Yet, anyway.”

  “Still…” Grau poked his salad. His mother briefly stood and filled his glass with wine.

  “The marsh goes on and on,” she said. “There will still be plenty left.”

  Velsa glanced at Grau with understanding. If there was a place in the world that belonged to her, she would love it too—every inch of it.

  “Hey, Preya,” said Agrin. “Lord Jherin is recruiting women now.”

  “For what?” she scoffed. “Having babies?”

  “No. Well, maybe, but it says ‘A variety of roles’.”

  “Let me see that.” She grabbed the pamphlet.

  “You are definitely not going to work for Kalan Jherin,” her father said, with the air of a final word. “Your husband is already waiting.”

  “My ‘husband’ doesn’t care if I live or die as long as I pop some babies out of my loins.”

  “Stars above, Preya, have a little dignity,” her mother said. “He doesn’t know you yet. It’s always the way.”

  “I don’t care if he lives or dies either.”

  “He’s a very nice young man and the Hohrlens are such a good family. I know you’re excited to live in Atlantis. Aren’t you?”

  “I’d like to see Atlantis,” she said, stabbing a carrot. “But not under these circumstances.”

  Grau’s mother sighed. “Can we at least try to act the part of a well-bred family at dinner?”

  After dinner, Grau and his family were still discussing politics and war. Velsa didn’t know much about it. Politics did not affect the House. Even if the men went away to fight, soldiers would always have to travel up and down the Atlantis River, and they would always stop in Nisa, and they would always seek out girls. The only way war would change their lives would be if the Miralem fought their way south and conquered the city. Miralem didn’t believe in Fanarlem slavery, and all the girls would be turned out. Inevitably, most of them would have turned to prostitution, which Miralem did not ban.

  Grau said, “You could sit by the fire in the parlor, if you like. Plenty of books to read.”

  “We could play chatrang,” Preya suggested. Her golden eyes—even more catlike than Grau’s—were bright, but her tone was almost shy.

  “Okay.” Velsa didn’t know the game, but she was so surprised that Grau’s sister was willing to offer friendship to a concubine.

  Preya put a few fresh logs on the parlor fire and set up a game-board. It was a square grid. Each player had two rows of black and white pieces in little carved shapes such as kings, soldiers, and horses. She explained the rules
rather half-heartedly.

  “It’s a well-mannered thing to do while you have a conversation,” she said with a shrug. “Unless you want to be like my brothers and get very competitive about it, and have a huge fight about whether you took your hand off of a piece or not, and throw the board off the table.”

  “I don’t think I want to do that,” Velsa said.

  “Wise choice,” Preya said. “It’ll be nice to have another girl around. I see my brother’s wives fairly often but they’re very…wife-y.”

  “I take it you’re not looking forward to being a wife?”

  “To say the least,” Preya said. “The future seems more unbearable the closer it gets. Parties and dances and babies? I have no interest in any of that. I mean, babies are cute, but that only goes so far.”

  “What is it that you like to do?” Velsa asked.

  “I’d join the military if I could. Like Grau. Or maybe even the navy. I’ve heard that they’re building spectacular new ships in Nalim Ima, powered by steam. I know the seafaring life isn’t as romantic as it sounds, but I can’t help imagining. As it stands, I agreed to the marriage because at least it would get me out of this backwater.”

  “Grau seems to miss the backwater.”

  “But, you notice, he doesn’t stay.”

  They traded a few moves as they spoke. Velsa thought the game was actually quite interesting, the way each piece had different ways of navigating the board. There was a lot of thinking to be done. Preya obviously had no interest in actually playing the game, though. “You’re really very pretty,” she said.

  “We’re made to be admired,” Velsa said. “But I have nothing to do with it.”

  “All the Fanarlem around here are kind of scary to look at.”

  “Are there many Fanarlem around?” Velsa had seen very few Fanarlem since she left the House. Occasionally, they might pass a laborer or a servant girl on the street.

  “We have two house servants and a few more working the farm,” Preya said. “They almost never speak but they’ll stare at you. When Papa said Grau was going to buy a Fanarlem girl I thought they were crazy. But now I see.” She moved a piece into a pretty bad position. “I suppose you’ve probably had an exciting life.”

  “Not at all,” Velsa said. “I grew up in one building and we rarely left.”

  “Oh. I imagined those Perfume Houses…the better ones, anyway…were a decadent party every night, with famous people stopping in, and music and wine…”

  Velsa shook her head. “I was only in the House proper for two weeks, anyway. The mistresses of the house are nice, but they’re eager to get rid of us. I suppose eighteen years is a long time to sit on investments.”

  “If you’re created specifically to be a concubine,” Preya said, “then how do they know, when they create you, that you’re really a girl?”

  “They don’t,” Velsa said. “They have some tests, but sometimes they get it wrong. There was a girl in my year like that. She started out in the house of male concubines, but she acted like a girl, and said she was a girl, and talked like a girl, so they moved her into our House. Male concubines aren’t worth quite as much, so they get upset when it goes the other way, but there’s no use trying to sell a girl if she won’t act like one.”

  “Did Grau tell you about me?”

  “No…”

  “I’m attracted to women. Not men.” Preya was blunt, but she said it like she was confessing a curse. Velsa supposed she was, considering how much flesh and blood people spoke of marriages and heirs.

  “I’ve heard there is a house for Fanarlem girls who favor other girls, and Fanarlem men who favor other men,” Velsa said. “Maybe your husband would let you have a concubine.”

  “But I still have to sleep with him. Besides, he’d hate that idea. He’s very traditional.” Preya looked sly. “Who would have guessed I’d be jealous of Grau’s concubine?”

  Velsa felt a twinge of embarrassment, but then, Preya’s flirtation seemed so different than any man, even Grau. And she looked so very much like Grau.

  “It is strange,” Velsa said. “No one ever asked me if I liked men or women. And really, they made it sound like we would be afraid of men and find them unpleasant.”

  “Was it all right…with Grau?”

  Velsa fumbled with her game piece, realizing she had steered the conversation in a bad direction. She had no idea Daramon women were so interested to ask about these things.

  When Velsa didn’t answer immediately, Preya said, “He better not have hurt you!”

  “No, no. We haven’t even…”

  “Oh. Really?” Preya hissed. “Stars! You’re getting better treatment than I will when I marry Morilan Hohren.” Her tone was scathing. Velsa couldn’t imagine what the wedding might be like. Preya didn’t seem like the type of girl who could pretend to be something she wasn’t, not even for a night. “And Grau must be completely mad about you. Magic has always fascinated him.”

  “I hope I’m more than just an interesting spell,” Velsa said.

  “Of course. I always say the wrong thing,” Preya said. “I just mean that I think any girl Grau spent time with would need some magic in her blood, because that’s what interests him. He’s not very good with parties and dances, and he gets bored easily, and once he decides he doesn’t like something, he’s over the entire experience and everyone involved.”

  Velsa had never noticed Grau getting bored. In fact, he seemed interested in everything, but she realized in their short time together, every day was a new place with new people. “I hope he doesn’t get bored with me…”

  “I mean, like card parties. Frivolous stuff. We’re just stubborn. Grau and I have always been close, you know, being the youngest and the strangest members of the family.”

  Velsa finally stopped trying to think about the board. “Your parents are really going to marry you to a man when you like other women?”

  “Yes. I told Mama. I haven’t ever said anything to Papa, and I won’t dare, but it wouldn’t matter. Mama said I need to master my feelings.”

  “I never realized flesh and blood women had so little freedom either…” Velsa’s understanding of the lives of real women had, until now, been confined to novels. Some of the women in novels had arranged marriages, but they always seemed delighted by them. Of course, the House library would not have been stocked with novels about women who defied their fate and behaved willfully.

  “My brothers’ wives seem happy,” Preya said. “I just can never be happy marrying a man, especially Morilan. Still, at least he won’t own me…though I’m sure Grau will never treat you poorly.” Velsa saw denial in Preya’s eyes, as if she could not quite accept that her brother owned another person. But she didn’t seem to have any such qualms about the family’s Fanarlem servants. Because Velsa was beautiful and educated, they could forget that she had the same damaged soul as every other Fanarlem.

  “When are you supposed to marry Morilan Hohren?” Velsa asked.

  Preya laughed. “Isn’t his name alone just awful? Oh, I have some months yet. I’m trying to think of another plan. I do wonder about the Kalanites recruiting women…but I’m not sure I trust Kalan Jherin. He’s the one who started all of this. It wasn’t so shameful to be a lesbian a century ago, but he promoted marriage and large families during the War of Crystals.”

  “Everyone talks about Kalan Jherin,” Velsa said. “I thought he was the leader of Nalim Ima, not our country.”

  “Kalan Jherin isn’t the leader of Nalim Ima either,” Preya said. “Not exactly. He’s the Wodrenarune, the most powerful sorcerer in all the known world, and the fates have chosen him to guide us. All the leaders listen to him, in Atlantis and throughout the islands, in Nalim Ima and New Sajinay… Nalim Ima is simply where he lives.”

  “What is he guiding us to? Standing against the Miralem?”

  “Yes, and one must admit he’s done a good job of it. I never know what to think, because Miralem women have so much more freedom and they ca
n love whomever they want, but just the thought that they can get in your head with telepathy…” She shuddered. “And they think they’re better than us. It must be nice enough to be a Miralem woman, but it wouldn’t be nice at all to be a Daramon woman in a Miralem world. I can’t win.”

  Velsa kept talking to Preya for hours, eventually winning the game to Preya’s indifference, while Grau spent time with his parents and brother. When they were still talking well past dark, Preya offered to style Velsa’s hair.

  “Hair is my favorite right now,” she said. “I just bought a pamphlet showing all the latest styles.”

  “If you’re gentle,” Velsa said, protective of her hair. “It doesn’t grow back. I need to wash it, at some point…” Velsa gently brushed all the dirt and dust out of her hair every morning, but over time it tended to look a little flat, especially lately with all their traveling and sleeping closer to Grau.

  “I could wash it too! I’ll be oh-so-gentle,” Preya promised.

  Velsa was happy to pass this task onto someone else. Her hands were waterproof, but not her arms, and handling water made her nervous. Preya heated some water and brought a pitcher upstairs to her room, and had Velsa lean back over a washstand. She was very careful, working soap and water up Velsa’s hair from the ends to her scalp so her face didn’t get a drop on it. Her touch was soothing, almost sensual.

  Velsa thought again of Preya’s blunt admission that she liked women rather than men. This was still the difference between a girl like Preya and a girl like Velsa. Preya had enough freedom to realize what she liked, even if she couldn’t have it.

  Velsa didn’t dare consider what she liked, beyond Grau.

  However, this was also the first time she had been away from him for any stretch since he acquired her, and she missed him by the time he came to bed late. She had already been sleeping.

  They woke late, well rested. Grau sprung out of bed and parted the curtains. “Perfect…the rain is over. We can go out roaming.” Her clothes were pressed and folded neatly, as if by magic, but likely by invisible servants. Fanarlem servants, perhaps. She wondered what they thought, pressing the clothes of a Fanarlem girl.