The Bastard’s Pearl

by Connie Bailey

  “Which one are you?” Chanesh asked.

  “Moksha, Reverend Lord.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Good. Are you yet innocent?”

  “I don’t understand, Reverend Lord.”

  “Don’t pretend to me,” Chanesh snapped. “I’ve lived more than a hundred years and had charge of hundreds of boys like you. Your minds always return to the same thoughts unless they’re channeled by someone wiser.”

  Terrified he’d say the wrong thing, Moksha remained silent.

  “Admit it,” Chanesh said. “Rutting is all you think about when you have idle moments.”

  Moksha had a vivid flash of yanking his jaavi before getting out of bed this morning. He swiftly banished the thought, afraid the High Priest was reading his mind.

  “Answer me,” Chanesh said. “Have you rutted with man, woman, or beast?”

  Moksha shook his head.

  “Good. Now go and fetch my visitor.”

  Moksha bowed and left the High Priest’s quarters. When he reached the central hall, he sent a novice to find Chanesh’s guest. A short time later, a green-robed man with a scanty beard approached Moksha.

  “I was told High Priest Chanesh wished to see me.”

  “Come with me,” Moksha said and led the man to Chanesh’s chambers.

  “It is time, Yozif,” Chanesh said by way of greeting.

  “I thought that might be why you summoned me.” Yozif held up a leather bag. “I brought what I need for the ritual.” He turned to look at Moksha. “I assume this is the candidate?”

  Moksha spoke out of turn for the first time in his life. “Candidate?” He fixed his gaze on Chanesh’s fissured face. “What ritual, my lord?”

  “Be silent,” Chanesh said. “Or scream if you like. It makes no difference.” He called to the door guards, and they made short work of subduing Moksha and binding his wrists. After tying the acolyte to the top of a large chest, the guards went back to their posts. “You may begin,” Chanesh told Yozif. “And don’t disappoint me.”

  Yozif lit the Goddess candles and took up the small knife.

  Moksha wanted to beg for mercy when Yozif leaned over him with the gleaming blade, but his tongue was frozen to the roof of his mouth. He lay rigid with fear as Yozif chanted, but after a while, the scent of the candles and the rhythmic words lulled him into a stupor. He didn’t feel the bite of the silvery metal as he drifted into unconsciousness, and when he woke, nothing was the same.

  LATE IN the afternoon, the Horde of the Hawk came to the end of their stony road. The wagons had been sent by another way to sheltered fields on the border of Savaan, but the main force of fighting men had climbed to the top of Mount Eyrie. Perched on the peak, as though it had grown from the rock of the mountain, was a large fortress. Kashyan reined in to look at the view as the troops marched through the gate.

  “What do you call this grim place?” Sheyn asked from behind Kashyan.

  “This is Karkaran Castle, once the most formidable fortress in Kandaar,” Kashyan said. “It’s been abandoned since the high king four high kings back turned this into hunting land.”

  “Karkaran? That’s your horse’s name, isn’t it?” Sheyn furrowed his brow in thought. “It means something like Falling Hawk.”

  Kashyan grinned. “It means Diving Hawk.”

  Sheyn was about to ask another question when Djenya stopped beside them.

  “There’s our new hero,” Djenya said. “When are you going to get him his own armor, Kasha?”

  “Do you need a beating?” Kashyan responded. “I’m in the mood to give one to somebody.”

  “Spare me.” Djenya pretended to cower.

  “Are you making fun of me?” Sheyn asked.

  “Not me,” Djenya said. “I fear you too much.”

  Kashyan gritted his teeth as the men of his troop laughed. “I don’t want to hear any more about that ridiculous incident,” he growled.

  “What a shame,” Djenya said. “At least allow us to praise him just once, this battling daaksi of yours. Such a spirit deserves recognition.”

  Djenya led the Black Hawks in a cheer, each man raising his sword in salute to Sheyn. Kashyan clenched his jaw until it ached, but he wouldn’t deprive his troops of their sport.

  “Have you humiliated me enough?” Kashyan asked his lieutenant.

  “For today.” Djenya clapped Kashyan on the shoulder. “I’ll see to getting the men settled.”

  Kashyan nodded his thanks. “I’ll find you as soon as I put this one in a safe place… if such a place exists.”

  Kashyan and Sheyn dismounted, and Djenya took Karkaran’s reins. After a brief search, Kashyan found the quartermaster and rooms were allocated to the daaksim. Taking Sheyn by the arm, Kashyan pulled him down a drafty corridor.

  Sheyn shivered with cold, and abruptly it was all too much. Everything that had happened in the last four days crashed down on him at once, and he began to shake in reaction. He’d been tortured. He’d been attacked by a demon. He’d been forced to kill a man. By the time Kashyan escorted Sheyn into his quarters, Sheyn was a mass of nerves.

  KASHYAN SHOVED Sheyn into the chamber set aside for the daaksim. “Stay put,” he ordered.

  This was the last straw. Sheyn would not tolerate being treated like unwanted baggage. “Or you’ll do what?” He raised his chin as he stared Kashyan in the eye. “Nothing. That’s what you’ll do.”

  Kashyan wanted to leave, but the daaksi’s tone got under his skin. “I wouldn’t wager all I had on that, if I were you,” he retorted.

  “I would, because I know your weakness.”

  “And what is my weakness?”

  Sheyn knew he should stop talking now, but the words kept coming, racing as fast as his heart. “You’re brave and strong and you have no trouble killing in battle, but for all you’re a brute—and you are a brute—you can’t bear to cause pain.”

  Kashyan laughed.

  Sheyn smiled at him. “I believe I could provoke you to such anger that you’d strike me, or put me in chains, but you’d relent. You’d relent, and you’d feel shame and remorse. After a time….” His voice trailed off.

  “What? Speak!”

  “You’re not a stupid man, though you wish others to think you are. In time, you’d change your behavior to avoid the pain of guilt.” Sheyn paused. “Or you’d rid yourself of me entirely.” He tilted his head to the side. “But you can’t do that, can you? Not without suffering even greater pain and loss of honor. You’re stuck.”

  “Shut your pretty mouth.”

  “Another threat? Must I repeat myself? We both know now that you won’t hurt me.”

  Kashyan grabbed for Sheyn’s wrist, but his hand closed on air. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast,” he said in amazement.

  “You’ve never met my fencing master.”

  Kashyan calmed himself before he spoke again. “I’m tired of your insolence. You’ll do as I tell you, or—”

  “Stop blustering for a minute. I’m thinking.”

  Shocked into silence, Kashyan stared at Sheyn. Sheyn concentrated and blocked out all distracting thoughts, as he used to do in the crowded library of the university. He put his excellent brain to work as he’d not done since he’d been kidnapped. Swiftly, he reviewed all that had happened since he came to Kandaar and formulated the best plan possible for leaving here someday.

  “My lord,” Sheyn said. “Let’s have an understanding.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’ll play the part of daaksi when others are watching, so you needn’t worry about your honor.” He met Kashyan’s eyes. “It’s now as precious to me as my own.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “My standing here depends on yours, isn’t that right?”

  “Your standing? Ayeesh!” Kashyan exclaimed. “When is it going to penetrate your skull that you’re a slave?”

  Sheyn narrowed his eyes at Kashyan. “Under
stand this, barbarian. I am not now, nor ever will be, a slave.”

  “You’re making more sense now, but you’re still soft in the head.”

  “Yes, you’ve told me that more than once. Don’t you get tired of repeating yourself?”

  “If you ever speak to me this way when we’re not alone—”

  “I won’t.”

  “And stop interrupting me.”

  “Why? Does it irritate you?”

  “It’s disrespectful.”

  “We’re alone,” Sheyn pointed out.

  Kashyan pursed his lips. “So we are,” he said and leered broadly at Sheyn.

  Sheyn swallowed hard as he took a half step back. His hands clenched into fists in the folds of his tunic as he struggled for control. By an effort of will, he suppressed the sudden wave of panic, and his voice was steady as he replied. “I am not in mood for bedplay, and we both know you won’t force me,” he said, praying it was true.

  “You didn’t think I was serious? We both know I don’t find you attractive at all.”

  Sheyn took a deep breath. “For which I am everlastingly grateful. Do we have a bargain?”

  Kashyan snorted. “You’re in no position to bargain, and I need to return to my duties.”

  “Wait!”

  “What is it now?”

  “It’s cold in here.”

  Kashyan sighed, but the sight of the pale daaksi shivering with his arms wrapped around himself stopped the harsh words that sprang to his tongue. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he said as he left.

  SHEYN STOPPED pacing when he heard a key in the lock. He would’ve welcomed any distraction but was pleased to see Luks and a line of men carrying furnishings. After a few minutes work under Luks’s direction, the chamber was habitable. Luks thanked the soldiers and they left.

  “You’re a genius,” Sheyn said as he reclined on a mattress.

  “And you’re… I don’t have a word for what you are,” Luks said as he sat on a cushion. “As soon as the ovens are fired, someone will bring us food,” he added.

  “Good. I’m starving. In fact, I’m always hungry. I haven’t been able to get enough to eat since….”

  “Since you became a daaksi,” Luks finished for him. “We give a lot of our energy to our masters, so—”

  “That’s nonsense,” Sheyn said.

  “No, it isn’t. I’m weary of you making fun of my faith.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sheyn said quickly. “You’re right. It’s ill-mannered of me.”

  Luks watched Sheyn for a moment. “You’ve changed again.”

  “Have I? Then I suppose I should stop consorting with demons and killing kidnappers. It seems to have an effect on me.”

  “You’re hopeless. You turn everything into a jest.”

  “Would you rather I wept?”

  “No, but….” Luks sighed. “You should hear the soldiers talking about you.”

  Sheyn sat up. “What do they say? I’m sure it’s crude and ignorant, but simply out of curiosity, I’d like know.”

  “They say that you’re as brave as you are beautiful, and more things of that sort. I believe half of them are in love with you.”

  “Such nonsense,” Sheyn said, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a pleased little smile. “They don’t think I’m beautiful. They think I’m too tall, too thin, and too pale.”

  “It’s true you’re not a typical Kandaari beauty, but anyone with eyes can see how fine you are. You don’t look like you belong to this world. When I think of the avatar now, I see your face.”

  “I think I’d rather look like you.” Sheyn tilted his head as he gazed at Luks’s face. “You look as luscious as a ripe peach. Your skin even has that glow.” He paused. “I’ve wanted to ask you about that. Sometimes your skin actually glows.”

  Luks’s eyes widened. “Have you looked in a mirror since you became a daaksi?” When Sheyn shook his head, Luks went to the door and talked to the guard outside. He smiled as he returned to his seat. “You’ve no idea what you look like now,” he said. “But soon you will.”

  “While we wait, do you have any more gossip?”

  “Did you really kill a man?”

  “I had no choice. He was taking me back to the Temple. I didn’t think about it at all. I simply picked up the sword and used it.”

  “I heard you killed him with a single perfect thrust. That’s what the soldiers are saying. Anaali must have guided your hand.”

  Sheyn snorted. “It wasn’t magic. It was hours of practice with a pitiless perfectionist.”

  “Nothing makes sense to me anymore,” Luks said.

  Sheyn looked at Luks’s bowed head and rethought his flippant reply. “It’s been hard for you, hasn’t it?” he said instead. Tentatively, he touched the back of Luks’s hand.

  “I don’t know what horrible thing will happen next,” Luks said in a choked voice.

  Sheyn looked down as a teardrop splashed his hand. Something broke inside him, and he crumpled, pulling Luks with him into a clutching hug. For several moments, they clung together, awkwardly balanced halfway between the couch and cushion, but neither wanted to let go. When the knock came at the door, they moved apart, but the warmth of the embrace stayed with them.

  One of the quartermaster’s men came in carrying a long, flat bundle. He unwrapped a tall rectangle of polished metal and set it against the wall. Without exchanging more than a dozen words, he was gone.

  “Look,” Luks said, giving Sheyn a little shove toward the mirror.

  Sheyn conquered a few irrational fears and went to the mirror. It was tall enough to reflect his full length, and his first thought was that the Kandaari were right. He was too long for his weight with hardly more breadth than a youth of sixteen. His shoulders were broad, but they tapered to a waist as willowy as that of an untried maiden.

  In the midst of cataloging his faults, Sheyn noticed that his skin looked extraordinarily smooth, almost like porcelain. Then he realized that his skin was as softly radiant as the inside of a shell. He looked up into Luks’s reflected gaze. “Am I glowing?” he asked.

  “Anaali’s spark shines in you,” Luks said. “You can hardly see it in the daylight, but it makes our skin as lustrous as pearls.”

  “I have scars.” Sheyn traced the lines from the corners of his eyes to his cheekbones. “Just like yours. I thought they were some sort of tribal symbols that marked you as a pleasure slave.” He paused. “And I suppose I was right.”

  He looked into the eyes of his reflection. Had his gaze always been so deep? His eyes so large? So heavily fringed with lashes? He was certain his eyebrows were different. Before, they were barely visible, and now they looked like the delicate charcoal strokes of a talented artist. His lips had bloomed from pale pink to rose. His flaxen hair had always been silky and shiny, but now it was so fine that it flowed with his slightest movement and gleamed like moonbeams breaking through clouds.

  “Now do you see?” Luks asked.

  “Yes, I see, but how is this possible?”

  “I told you. During the ceremony, if you’re chosen by the Goddess, you receive a measure of Her divine essence. It changes you.”

  “I’m a freak.”

  “You’re a miracle. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”

  “I don’t want to be either of those things.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “Exactly.” Sheyn turned from the mirror. “I didn’t choose this. Did you?”

  “I was raised for this purpose. The Goddess chose me, and I’ve done my best to follow my training and my faith.”

  “What about your family?”

  “I know nothing of my life before the Sanctuary at the Mother Shrine. I was told I was left there as infant, only a few months old.”

  “I understand that you were trained from birth, but why are you so content with your lot?”

  “This is the life I was given, and I’m trying to live it as well as I can.”

  “But sur
ely you must long to be free.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “You’d do just as you pleased.”

  Luks sighed. “I can’t understand why Anaali would choose someone like you, but I must follow my beliefs and trust that She has a purpose.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’m going to find a way out of this cage.”

  Luks shivered with the same unease he’d felt the first time he’d seen Pearl. In spite of everything, Luks liked the prickly foreigner, but the shadow of foreboding never completely went away. “You should seal your bond with your master,” he said. “Until you do, you’ll be out of balance.”

  Someone knocked, and Sheyn was grateful for the interruption. He called out permission to enter, expecting a tray of food and khai, but it was a pair of Black Hawks. Each carried an armload of furs they could barely see over. Sheyn recognized one of them.

  “Hello, Leksi. What’s all this?”

  “From the captain,” said Leksi. “Two fur cloaks and bed covers.” His lips twitched as he suppressed a smirk. “He said he wanted to make sure your hot blood didn’t cool down.”

  “Should you be repeating such things?” Luks interrupted.

  “Don’t be cross,” Sheyn said as he picked up one of the cloaks and put it around his shoulders. “This is a beautiful pelt.”

  “It’s crag bear,” Leksi said. “They go all mottled white and gray like that in the winter. The worst-tempered creatures ever born.”

  “Not according to your captain,” Sheyn said. “He thinks I’m the worst-tempered creature ever born.”

  “I think you’re very brave,” Leksi said, leaning toward Sheyn.

  “I hope we aren’t keeping you from your duty,” Luks said.

  Leksi glanced at Luks and resumed his military posture. “We should get back to our posts,” he said. “May I take a message to the captain?”

  “Take a message to the Black Hawks for me,” Sheyn said. “Give them my thanks for protecting me, and tell them I wish them luck on their raids.”