pared for that kind of announcement. Hoolies, I was expecting you to say something entirely different! Had expected it for some time."
He had stopped brushing and stared at me, brows knit. "What were you expecting me to say?"
I drew in a breath. "That you wanted Del. And she wanted you."
His mouth dropped open. "What!"
"That’s what I was expecting."
"I — but… but what — I mean…"
I laughed. "See? Sometimes you can’t make your brain form a real sentence."
He got the point. Closed his mouth. Tried again. "Why would you think anything of the sort?"
"I saw how you looked at her. Today in the other canyon. And at other times."
He stared at me as if I had two heads. "Gods, she’s breathtaking! She’s what we all dream of. How could any man not stare at her?"
I could not keep the curtness from my tone. "Or not wonder what she’d be like in his bed?"
Color bloomed in his face. "You tell me, Sandtiger! You’re the one who took my mother to his bed when she was barely sixteen!"
After a moment, I said, "You know how to pick your weapons."
"But it’s true."
"Yes." I nodded, aware of a trace of shame. "Yes, I did take her to my bed. I was a scared, foolish kid drunk on freedom, dreaming of making himself someone of significance in the circles at Alimat. She was very pretty, and I couldn’t understand how she might be attracted to me. But she made me feel special." I had to look away from him; couldn’t face his eyes. "She made me feel like a man instead of a chula."
He too looked away for a long moment. Then met my eyes again. "She said you were kind."
My reply was heartfelt. "I hope I was. She deserved kindness."
"She said —" Abruptly his mouth jerked into a crooked smile. "She said I take after her father, the headman. That I have a little of your height but not your eyes. Or hers."
I smiled, remembering. "She had very dark eyes."
"My grandfather has Borderer blood in him. It shows in me."
"There’s Skandic in you, too. But your grandfather, if he had those eyes, probably could have taken his pick of any woman on the border."
Neesha grinned. "Ah, that’s right. You said I could make every woman spread her legs for me."
"A not inconsiderable feat."
"Except for Del." He shook his head. "Would I want to? — hoolies, I’m a man, not a fool! But she sees no one but you. That was quite clear when I tended her in the lean-to."
Unable to speak openly about something this important, I resorted to off-handedness. "Nah, she just wants me for all my vast riches." Then I grinned. "And now, let me say this: You are a good-looking, smart kid with a head on his shoulders. And I like you. But I have never been a father, nor ever expected to be. I don’t know how."
With wide, melting eyes, Neesha told me, "It’s not as if you’ll need to change my diapers."
"And you’ve got a smart mouth on you, too."
He affected innocence. "My mother doesn’t, nor the man she married. I must have gotten it from someone else."
I scowled. Pointed to the stud’s immaculate left leg. "You missed a spot." Then I stalked away.
Later that night as we lay in Mehmet’s bed feeling the effects of a large feast, Del asked, "Did you tell him?"
I had been just at the edge of sleep. "Tell him what?"
"That you like him."
I yawned widely. "Yes, I told him that I like him. I told him everything you told me to tell him, that I had told you."
I heard a breath of laughter. "What did he say?"
"That he must have inherited his smart mouth from me."
After a moment of startled silence, Del began to giggle against my chest. I went back to sleep.
When I awoke not long after dawn, I discovered Del was missing. No wonder the bed felt so empty. I dragged myself out of it, slipped into harness and sword, wandered through the front room to the dooryard and saw Neesha lying belly-down at the edge of the stream, staring into the water with one arm submerged beyond his elbow. He didn’t move. Finally I went over asked asked what he was doing.
"I’m hoping to catch some fish."
"There are fish in there?"
"Del and I saw them yesterday, after you’d gone back. Quite a few up in the pool in the other canyon."
I decided to mention it. "You don’t have a hook or line."
"No, I’m planning to tickle them."
" Tickle them? Fish?" I’d always considered tickling for women and children, not fish.
"If you tickle their bellies, they get a little sleepy. Or whatever fish do; I’m not sure. Maybe they just stop paying attention. But you can grab them and throw them on the bank."
I grunted skeptically. "I wasn’t born yesterday, and you’re not fooling me with such nonsense."
"It’s not nonsense. I’ve done it many times."
"Where?"
"In the borderlands, close to the North. Lots of streams and creeks up there."
It still sounded unlikely to me, but I didn’t know him well enough to be certain when he was joking. "Huh. I’ll bet Mehmet has a hook and line."
"Probably, but I didn’t want to disturb him. And I like doing it this way. Sometimes you need to know you’re smarter than the fish."
Dryly, I observed, "I wouldn’t think that’d be too hard."
Equally dry, he told me I’d be surprised.
I observed him a moment longer, marveling. This is my son.
Then I reached over with a foot and bumped his leg. "Come on. It’s time for your first lesson."
He was startled. "Now?"
"Why not? I like to believe I’m better company than the fish."
Neesha shot me an elaborately assessive glance.
I smiled, baring teeth, and unsheathed my jivatma. After that he didn’t look at anything else. "Come on, Nayyib-Neesha. This is just the beginning of a long and painful process."
He stood up from the bank. Eyed me again, this time seriously. And sighed. "Yes, I suspect it will be."
THIRTY-SEVEN
I broke through Neesha’s guard six times in a row. By then he was frustrated and humiliated. He’d wanted very badly to show me he had some grasp of the essentials, when what he felt he’d shown me were weaknesses. Of course, that’s what I’d expected; but I’d also anticipated that maybe, just maybe he could do to me what I’d done to Abbu so many years before, if I wasn’t careful. And while that no doubt would have pleased Neesha, it might also have gotten me hurt.
So I was careful.
And I am, after all, the legendary Sandtiger, seventh-level sword-dancer out of Alimat… besides, if I was to shape a new legend, he needed to understand he had to be better than good.
Sweat ran down his face, bathed his chest. He was quick, graceful, focused. He was also angry with himself. So I told him we were done.
He lowered his sword. "Already?"
"Already."
"We’ve barely begun!"
"And we’re finished. For now. We’ll go again tomorrow." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. "Go wash off in the stream. Cool down."
He wanted to say more. But he shut his mouth on it, put his sword back in his harness, and stalked past me.
"And kid…" I waited until he turned around. "It will be a long ten years — or seven, or six — if you get this frustrated every time."
His mouth was a grim line. "I wanted to be good." I grinned. "Good doesn’t happen overnight — or even after four lessons with Abbu Bensir." I bent, grabbed up my own harness, sheathed the jivatma. "Tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m going to track down Del."
"She told me she was going up to the other canyon." I shook my head in resignation. "Seems like Del tells you more than she tells me."
An odd look passed across Neesha’s face. Then abruptly he turned on his heel and headed for the stream.
by the time I hiked up around the elbow and through the passageway, the morning chill had
faded. The sun now stood above the rim of the canyon walls, slanting blankets of light down the tree-clad mountain slopes. I heard birds calling and the chittering of something in the bushes, probably warning of my coming. The rush and gurgle of water underscored everything.
Del was where I expected her to be, up near the natural pool. At first I almost missed her as she lay on her back in thick meadowgrass. High overhead the eagle circled again against brilliant skies, accompanied by his mate.
I paused long enough to strip my sandals off, tie them together and sling them over a shoulder, then took pleasure in feeling the grass and cool soil under my feet. Remarkably different from Punja sand. My callused feet liked it very much.
I strode along the stream bank. "Catch any fish?"
I saw Del’s hands go to her cheeks, wiping them hastily. Then she sat up. Her hair, worn loose, tumbled down her back. She smiled as she saw sandals dangling from my shoulder. Hers were lying near the water, along with her harness and sword.
Good idea. I dropped my sandals, got out of the harness, set it and jivatma in the grass. "All right," I said, "I may be male, but I’m not completely heartless. Tell me why you were crying."
Her eyes widened slightly, and then she laughed self-consciously. "Because it’s so beautiful here."
This explanation seemed incongruous. "That’s why you’re crying?"
"Tiger —" She stood up abruptly, grabbed my hand, tugged me along the bank. Her free hand gestured broadly. "Look at it, Tiger! The trees are leafing out, the bushes are setting fruit, there are flowers in the grass, sweet water in plenty —"
"And fish that apparently like to be tickled."
In full spate, she disregarded the comment. "— and eagles in the sky, game on the slopes, a far more benevolent sun than anywhere else in the South — no searing heat, no Punja, no sword-dancers hunting you…" She released my hand and dropped to her knees, plunging fingers into the ground and bringing up clods. "Look at this soil! So much would grow here…" She tossed the clumps aside and rose, grabbing my hand again. "Come here." She led me away from the water. "Do you see? There against the canyon walls? We could build a good house. Smaller houses — just rooms, really — could go across the stream against that canyon wall. And here, here there is room for multiple circles." Her gesture was all encompassing. "As many circles as you need in a school. And Julah isn’t far for when we need supplies. Or if you and the students wanted to go in to the cantina for wine-girls and aqivi."
Ah. Now I knew where she was heading. And it apparently wasn’t Alimat, if she had anything to do with it. "This is why you’re crying?"
Color stained her face. "Because it’s beautiful, yes. Because it offers us everything we could want. Because it gives us a future different from anything we’ve known, something we can build together, starting over again."
Carefully I noted, "That’s what I’d planned to do at Alimat."
"In the sun. In the heat. In the sand. Where, if there’s water, it’s always warm. Where I have to paint my horse’s eyes and hang tassels off his browband so he doesn’t go blind."
"Hey, that was your idea! I told you to get another horse, remember?"
"He’s got the softest walk I’ve ever ridden. Probably softer than any you’ve ridden, you with that stubborn, nasty-tempered, jug-headed demon —"
"Now, let’s not get personal about my horse!"
"— who’d just as soon throw you as carry you a yard —"
"All right!" My hand was in the air, silencing her. "We’ve established that your gelding has a better walk than my horse. Go on."
Del glared. "Because for the first time in more years than I can remember, I can let down all my walls. I thought I had forgotten how. My song is sung, Tiger. I found my brother and lost him again. I avenged my family by killing Ajani. I’ve proven to you I can dance with all the skill and honor of male sword-dancers —"
"With more skill and honor."
"— and defeat them as well." She was as fierce in her focus as I had ever heard her. "I have accomplished all that I set out to do, that day along the border when Ajani and his men killed my family, abducted my brother, and raped me. And I have given up a daughter, killed my an-kaidin, blooded — and broken — my jivatma, and have been exiled forever from my homeland." Her tone was sere as desert sand. "You asked me once what kind of man I dreamed of finding, and I told you I had stopped thinking of that the day Ajani came. I gave up all my dreams, all my hopes, all my humanity to become the weapon needed to kill Ajani. I even made a pact with the gods to keep me from conceiving again, so another child would not delay my plans as Kalle did." Her face was stark with pain. "So I would not have to give yet another child up."
"Del —"
"Two things, two things only, existed in my life: finding my brother and finding Ajani. I did both. My song is ended."
"Del —"
"And I was crying because this place is so beautiful it hurts my heart and because I know you won’t want to stay here because there’s Alimat, always Alimat —" She broke it off, drew a tight, rasping breath, began again. "And I even understand that because it’s your song, your goal, your need, the way making myself into a weapon was mine. I understand it, and I hate it. I hate the sun and the sand and the heat, and the men who refuse to see a woman’s true worth is in being something other than a vessel to bear babies and keep houses —" Now the tone was angry. "— and I hate it that you made yourself an outcast for my sake, breaking all your oaths and sentencing yourself to death by declaring elaii-ali-ma in front of all the others and Abbu Bensir —"
I raised a hand. "Del —"
Her voice tightened. "— and I hate it that you don’t want children, because I’m going to have one and you’ll want to leave."
Standing there suspended in disbelief, I discovered that once again I lacked the ability to find words, any words at all that began to address the situation in a calm, rational, sensible manner. Or, for that matter, that even approached coherency.
"And I hate it because I want this one to have a mother and a father of its blood —" She was running out of breath and intensity. "— and to keep it, to keep it, instead of giving it away as I gave away Kalle, to be a mother, a true mother, even though I know you’ll want no part of this child or this life."
Empty of everything save sluggish shock and a wish to end a pain I could not begin to comprehend — and thus would lessen by any attempt — I walked away from her on unsteady legs and stood at the stream’s edge, staring into rushing water. Lost myself in the sound, the tumult, the motion that required no words, no decisions, no compromises.
The cantina stool was getting harder all the time.
I squatted, leaned, scooped up and drank water. Sluiced it over my face and through my hair. Considered falling face-first into the stream and drowning myself, just so I never had to find myself yet again so utterly, completely, incoherently stunned.
Too much. All of it, too much. And Del knew it. Expected my reaction. Because I had told her what I’d told everyone: no children for me.
Go? Oh no. I had sworn oaths to Del, though she was unaware. And these I would not break.
And then I thought, I’ll be dead in twelve years.
I would never see the child as an adult, like Neesha. Another good-looking, smart kid with a head on his shoulders — or a girl with all the glorious beauty and strength of her mother.
But twelve years, ten years, were better than none.
It seemed, after all, there was no decision to make. No reluctance to forcibly sublimate. There was merely comprehension — and a little fear.
Then I remembered the dream. Me, alone, as everyone I knew — and some I didn’t — walked away from me. That is what my life could be like. Me, refusing to accept responsibility for my own actions. Even for my children. And deserted because of it.
I’d survived hoolies all alone among the Salset. I wouldn’t — couldn’t — do it again.
I pressed myself up from the ground and
went to Del. I cradled her jaw, smoothed back her hair, kissed her on the forehead, then took her into my arms.
Her body was stiff, her voice tight and bitter. "And here I was prodding Neesha to tell you his secret, when I’ve been keeping my own."
Into her ear I said, "I think I’d have figured it out one of these days even if you never said anything."
She pulled back. Walked away from me. Stood staring at something I couldn’t see and probably never would. Her tone was oddly detached. "Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to stay."
It hurt. Badly. But I had done it to her. Had done it to myself.
She turned. The angles of her cheekbones were sharp as glass. Her eyes were ice. "I will not force a man to stay who has no wish to. I have been alone in much of what I’ve done since my family died; I can be alone in this."
I drew in a shaking breath that filled my head with light. "Well, it’s not an entirely new idea, this being a father. I’ve had all of, oh, about a day to adjust to the idea of Neesha being mine."
Her tone was scathing. "Neesha is not a child."
"But it’s a start. I mean, you’re not going to drop this kid tonight or tomorrow." I paused. "When is it due?"
"Around six months from now."
I shrugged off-handedly, keeping it light. It was what she was accustomed to. "I figure if I can get used to having Neesha around, I can get used to a baby."
Del was not in the mood to be amused. "Babies are considerably more trouble than a twenty-three year-old man."
"Bascha…" I wanted to go to her, to take her into my arms once again. But I had learned to read her over the years, and that was not what she wished me to do. So I stayed where I was and told her the truth. "I knew when I stepped out of Sabra’s circle and declared elaii-ali-ma that the life I’d known was over. I knew when Sahdri chopped off my fingers that the life I’d known was over. There on that island, with you lying next to me in the sand, I decided to build a school and become a shodo. Whether it’s here or at Alimat isn’t important; what matters is that I’d already made the decision to stick in one spot. Knowing there’s to be a baby doesn’t alter that." I paused. "Though I confess I’m not exactly sure how this has happened, since you made that pact with the gods. But then, I don’t have much to do with gods — except when I curse — so what do I know?"
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