Return of the Exile l-3

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Return of the Exile l-3 Page 14

by Mary H. Herbert


  Her thoughts and emotions went through a crazy whirl of fear that the Tarmaks had learned of her clandestine visit to Sirenfal. Had the guards in the cave outpost recognized her? Had she left footprints? Had the dragon been forced to reveal their plans? Her guards said nothing to her. They only watched with cold eyes and dogged her every move. They wouldn’t talk to her even when she demanded answers. Yet they did not search her belongings for ropes or stolen clothes or the carefully hoarded pouch of powder from Afec, and they did not try to drag her before Lanther.

  She wished she could talk to Afec, who might know what was going on. But with the guards on her heels, she did not dare approach him for fear of drawing undue attention to him. She waited hopefully for him to come to her in the afternoon for another lecture on Tarmak customs, but the Damjatt was nowhere to be seen, pushing Linsha into more dreadful speculation that perhaps the Tarmak had imprisoned him and were torturing him for his knowledge of her plots. When he did not appear by evening, Linsha grew truly worried. She could not think of a day when she had not seen him somewhere around the Akeelawasee busy at his tasks.

  As exhausted as she was, Linsha could only sleep in fits and starts that night while her brain ran over every worry and fear she had concocted. She hoped fervently the guards would be gone the next morning, but one look at Callista’s face at dawn told her they were still there just outside the sleeping quarters.

  “What are we going to do?” the courtesan murmured while she served the juice. “If the guards stay with you, we won’t be able to get out of here.”

  “I know, I know,” Linsha replied, her mood made sharp by lack of sleep and her own deep apprehension. “Do you know where Afec is? Have you seen him at all?”

  “Not since yesterday. He received orders to attend the priests.”

  “That does not sound good,” Linsha muttered.

  “No.” Callista put a dainty hand on Linsha’s arm and tried to smile. “I have the water and the food we need. I am trying to find some warm tunics or cloaks. What do you want me to do tonight?”

  Linsha felt a cold feeling of dread and worry squirm in her stomach. Gods above, tonight was the last night she would be free to stay away from Lanther. They had to escape. Somehow, they had to get away from the guards, climb down to Sirenfal’s cave, and get the dragon out of there. By Kiri-Jolith, she missed Varia. She hadn’t realized until this separation how much she had come to depend on the owl for her courage, her intelligence, and her willingness to spy. She could really use the owl this night.

  Instead of an owl, she had a feisty courtesan and stubborn old eunuch. They were doing their best; it just took a little getting used to. “I will feign illness and try to convince them to allow you to stay with me, so you won’t have to sneak out of the servants’ quarters,” she said. “Maybe they’ll find Afec, too.”

  Callista nodded and went to fetch the basin of water for Linsha’s washing while she went outside for her run. As Linsha feared, two Tarmak guards fell in behind her, and this time they followed her around the path of the garden for her entire run. They stayed with her through the day, from the morning meal through the exercise schedules and her swim in the lake, to her evening meal and the quiet time before the women retired to bed. Linsha refused to eat her dinner and dragged herself to her quarters where she planned to have Callista inform the Empress that she was ill and would someone please summon Afec.

  Instead she was met at her cubicle door by a Keena priest in a sleeveless black robe. Callista stood behind him looking pale and sick with fear.

  “Drathkin’kela,” the priest addressed her with a bow. “If you will accompany me, the priestesses are waiting for you.”

  “Why?” Linsha cried. Her most basic instincts wanted to back up and make a break for the wall, but the two armed guards stood directly behind, blocking her path.

  “If you will come with me,” the Keena said, and he took her arm and pulled her toward the hall.

  Linsha cast one agonized look back at Callista and was forced to follow.

  There would be no escape that night.

  12

  Marrying the Enemy

  Linsha couldn’t decide whether to be intensely irritated or very relieved when the Keena took her to another room in the palace and left her in the care of four priestesses. The women, dressed in black robes, wore their hair cut very short and hid their fair skin with a dark red cosmetic powder. Talking among themselves, they led Linsha to another room on a subterranean level where a deep pool of water formed a small underground grotto. To the music of drums and cymbals, the priestesses stripped Linsha, tossed her clothes away, and made her soak in the pool. They scrubbed her several times with a granular soap until her skin burned and then washed her hair with scented cleansers. When she was thoroughly clean, she was asked to step out, and in front of a roaring fire the priestesses rubbed her skin with oils and flailed her with branches from a tree that grew on the island.

  It was the branches that finally triggered a vague memory in Linsha’s mind of something Afec had said during one of her momentary lapses of attention. Ritual purification. The chosen of a high-ranking Tarmak warrior had to be purified and prepared the night before the marriage ceremony. She had not listened to most of his description of the rites, for she had hoped to be gone by that night, but the Tarmaks-or Lanther-had apparently not trusted her and put a guard on her to insure she stay.

  As soon as the flailing was completed, the priestesses braided her shaggy curls as best they could, then they draped her in a clean blue cloth and the head priestess blessed her in Tarmakian in the name of Berkrath, a goddess Linsha did not recognize. Finally she was given a glass of wine and the traditional meal of cooked meat for energy, bread for fidelity, and eggs for fertility. As soon as she was finished, the priestesses led her to a small room and told her to sleep. She would need her strength the next day.

  Linsha vowed she would not sleep-she had to find some way to get out. But the priestesses must have put something in her food, for the next thing she realized hours had passed and the women were waking her for the next step of her preparation for marriage. A sick certainty chilled her to the bone. She would have to go through with this. There would be no escape from the island in time. She would have to marry Lanther and possibly submit to him if she wanted to live through the next night and keep the eggs safe.

  The dressing and the morning preparations took a mind-numbing eternity. Linsha, who was not used to primping or taking more than five minutes to put on a dress, was cleaned again and rubbed with more scented lotions. Priestesses painted a geometric design of blue dots on her face-probably in lieu of cosmetics she guessed. Her hair was decorated with beads and white feathers. Her nails were cleaned and stained with a golden brown powder that made them gleam like polished wood. Even her dragon scales were polished and set reverently against her scrubbed skin. Then the Empress brought the green dress and the dragon robe, and Linsha was carefully dressed.

  The entire operation reminded Linsha of the one doll her parents had given her before they accepted the fact that she was determined to join the Knighthood. She had played with the doll for one day, dressing it and playing with the wool hair until she had it just to her liking, then she propped it in the corner and never played with it again. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the Tarmak women propped her in the corner and left her there.

  Unfortunately they didn’t. To the beating of drums and clanging of cymbals, they escorted her upstairs and took her outside into the hot sun where they processed out of the palace and into the large field where the warriors usually exercised and trained. Once again, the court was assembled in their finery. The black-garbed Keena priests and priestesses led her through the crowd to a large awning in front of the Emperor and his empress. The two royal Tarmaks inspected her and gave their approval.

  Lanther arrived on horseback in much the same manner, escorted by shouting warriors, throbbing drums, and slaves carrying pots of burning incense. He looked parti
cularly imposing in the Akkad’s gold mask and the dragonscale cuirass that reflected the sunlight like a polished brass mirror. His blue eyes brilliant behind his mask, he bowed to the imperial couple and then to Linsha. She was taken to Lanther’s side, and before the entire assemblage, the high priest took a silk cord and bound Linsha’s wrist to the Akkad-Dar’s. In a droning, high pitched voice, he intoned several long-winded prayers in Tarmakian.

  Linsha listened and watched but said nothing. She was sweating profusely in the heavy robes, and her head ached. Beyond that she felt numb. The anger and fear that bubbled below the surface had disappeared into dark cracks, and everything else in her head erected a massive wall and hid behind it. She had nothing to do or say for a while, nothing that required a response, so she simply stared at a place far beyond Lanther’s left shoulder and wished in a silent prayer that Crucible would come winging over the wall.

  A loud cheer startled her, and suddenly Lanther took her roughly in his free arm and kissed her fiercely. “Soon, my dear wife,” he hissed in her ear.

  Linsha twisted out of his grasp and pulled her wrist out of the loose cord. Her face darkened with anger. “I fulfilled my part of the bargain,” she snapped in Common. “You will fulfill yours.”

  To her annoyance, he laughed and held up a gold chain for her to see. On the chain hung a key about the length of her first finger. “This is my gift to you.”

  “A key.” Her words were heavy with disbelief.

  “A key. To the special chamber in the Missing City where nine brass dragon eggs are gently incubating. It is for you.”

  She refused to touch it. “And what good will that do,” she cried, “when I am left behind in this prison of a breeding farm?”

  He twirled the chain around his finger and said, “You do not know without a doubt that I will leave you here for the rest of your life. There may come a day when I will take you to our new realm to rule by my side.”

  “You mean when Crucible is dead and the Plains of Dust lie under your heel?”

  “Yes.” He nodded with a chuckle. “Around then. You and our son may come to the Missing City and you will see your eggs.”

  For a painful moment Linsha almost yanked the chain off his finger and threw the key away. It was worthless as far as she was concerned. He would never bring her back to the Plains, and since the eggs were in the Missing City, they might as well be on the far side of the Ice Wall for all the good they did her. Her fingers reached out, grasped the chain, and very slowly, as if lifting a great weight, pulled the chain into her hand. Throw it away! Throw it away! Her mind demanded. But her heart could not give up the hope, no matter how slight, that some day she might stand on the threshold of the chamber and see the brass dragon eggs once more. She pulled the key to her chest and clenched it so tightly the metal bit into her skin.

  With a triumphant grin, Lanther took her arm, whirled her around and marched her to a shaded pavilion where seats had been arranged for the newly joined couple, the Emperor, and his retinue to watch the Tarmak games played in Lanther’s honor. Apparently the games were not open to the public, for the only people in the audience were the inhabitants of the imperial palace. Those of high rank lucky enough to have a seat in the shade quickly took their places, while everyone else sat on the ground and found what shade they could under a collection of brightly colored parasols.

  There was very little fanfare. The first combatants took the field, swords were drawn, and the duel commenced. Linsha had heard the fights in Tarmak games were often to the death, but this time the fight stopped when one of the duelists was knocked unconscious. Too bad, she thought morosely. If they killed each other in large enough numbers, there wouldn’t be so many to reinforce the garrison in the Missing City.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of bloody contests, competitions of skill and daring, and a wicked game that involved several vicious wild boars, an inflated pig’s bladder, and two teams of Tarmaks armed with knives. Linsha didn’t watch most of it. Her mind wandered alone on dark and distant paths.

  When evening came and the wounded were hauled off the field, the Emperor’s court retired excitedly to the palace courtyard for another feast of roast bull, various dishes, and vats of wine. Linsha scanned the crowd of servants for Afec or Callista, but she saw neither of them. Her anxiety, ignored through most of the afternoon, came back in ever-increasing shock waves like the warnings of a volcanic eruption. She sat beside Lanther, ignored her food, and felt her anger and resentment feed on her fear and build to an explosive force. If something didn’t happen soon, she feared she would explode.

  The waning moon rose over the hills to the east, the night grew late, and still the dancing and feasting continued. It could not last forever though, and much sooner than Linsha would have liked, Lanther rose from his chair and signaled to the Emperor. Khanwhelak nodded and suddenly a great cheer and outburst of raucous shouts filled the courtyard. Warriors came and lifted Linsha and her chair high on their shoulders. Everyone still able to move clapped and followed the warriors as they circled the courtyard carrying Linsha who clung to her pitching chair with all her strength. Following Lanther, the loud, boisterous group trooped through several hallways of the palace and came out into a garden Linsha hadn’t seen before. The garden was heavily planted with shrubs and groves of trees so each clearing had a feeling of solitude and seclusion. Moonlight painted the trees, and somewhere nearby came the sound of a fountain. The entire group came to another clearing surrounded by a lush grove of tall, stately bamboo and there in the center sat a small, airy building with the same style of arched roof as the palace. A door stood wide open, pouring warm lamplight on the dark pathway.

  Linsha eyed it suspiciously. Afec hadn’t mentioned this. As she feared, the warriors put her down and handed her over to Lanther with many ribald comments and jests. They pushed her toward the door, then the entire group turned on its collective heel and disappeared into the night back the way it had come. A thunderous silence settled over the grove and its delicate house. Linsha felt her body begin to tremble. An almost overwhelming urge to flee shivered in her muscles, but before she could move Lanther pulled her into the house.

  In a daze she stood on the threshold and looked at the interior. It had only a single room, a bridal chamber with large windows open to the breezes that played in the garden and a huge bed piled with soft pallets and pillows. It took Linsha a minute to notice Callista and another male servant standing by the bed. They bowed low to the newly joined couple.

  “The pavilion is ready, my lord Akkad,” said the male servant to Lanther. He indicated a tray of cooled wine, goblets, and sweetmeats, then he helped the warlord remove his mask and cuirass.

  Callista hurried to Linsha and gently removed the dragon robe. “I have brought your things, my lady, if you wish to refresh yourself. There is a basin of water and some cloths.” Then she said as softly as she dared, “Afec sends his congratulations.”

  Linsha’s eyes met Callista’s in a dagger-sharp glance. “He is well?”

  “Yes. He was sent here to prepare this house for you. It is the pavilion used by all the imperial family on the five nights following their marriages. You will stay here with Lanther until he leaves for the Missing City. Afec told me to tell you that if your head pain returns, he has left a bottle for you in the small cabinet by the wash table.”

  “You are dismissed,” Lanther snapped at both servants.

  Callista dared not dally. She gave Linsha a sympathetic squeeze on her arm. “Good night, Linsha,” she said quietly, then her voice dropped even lower. “Afec says don’t kill him. If you do and the Tarmak catch you, they will torture you for days. If you get away, we will try to wait for you.”

  “Out!” Lanther bellowed.

  The courtesan bowed low, and with her most impish grin, she winked at Lanther and hurried out after the male servant. The door closed behind her, leaving Linsha alone with her husband.

  Linsha stood still for a moment and eye
d him coldly, then she walked toward the wash basin Callista had left for her.

  Lanther sat down on the bed to remove his sandals. “Callista had a lot to say,” he said idly.

  “Yes,” Linsha replied, busy with the cloth and the cool water. Her face was dusty and hot and the blue paint design itched. “She was giving me advice.”

  He chuckled. “You are no virgin to need advice from a prostitute.”

  Linsha made no reply. She had found a folded fabric bag that contained her few clothes, a pair of sandals, her hair brush, and buried in the center lay a certain leather pouch, some dark green silk clothes, and two coils of rope. Linsha’s eyes began to glitter with a dangerous spark. Under the guise of applying a hint of perfume and brushing the braids out of her hair, she palmed the leather pouch.

  “Does this house contain a privy?” she inquired in a cool detached manner. “I fear I drank too much wine during the feast.”

  He nodded and indicated a door leading out of the room. “It is there. But do not think to slip out a window or make a break for the Akeelawasee. This garden is surrounded by guards.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she growled.

  She picked up a candle and stalked out, slamming the door between them. The privy turned out to be a tiny, one-person room attached to the pavilion by a very short walkway. She made use of it for her own comfort as well as his suspicious nature, and while she sat she carefully poured hot wax onto her palm. The wax burned for a moment before it cooled, but while it was still pliable, she smoothed it over her hand to form a thin protective layer. As soon as she finished and smoothed down her dress, she poured a small handful of the sedating powder into her hand. Her heart began to race; her stomach twisted into a large knot.

  She managed to screw a smile of sorts onto her face before she went back into the room. Lanther had poured more wine and doused most of the lamps. Only a few candles remained to light the room with a soft romantic light. Linsha knew she would not have to approach him. He would come to her.

 

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