by Cate Rowan
“Of course, of course, Healer.” She’d expected him to use her formal title in response—that was only right, under the circumstances—but it still caused a twinge of pain.
Sohad trailed behind her as she moved to the bed. Several more moments passed before the sultan relinquished his son. Eventually he stood and drew the hovering Sulya away with him. His wife looked down at her son’s bright face and bit her lip.
Tahir’s skin held a healthy color and the purple smudges were fading from under his eyes. “You look better,” Varene said. “How do you feel?”
“I rode my stallion,” he said proudly. “The one Father promised me.”
She touched his temples; he was no longer fevered. “You rode him, hmm? That must have been fun.” She lifted his small hand and gently pinched up a fold of skin, then sent her kyrra deeper, searching, testing. “Could you feel the wind on your face, young prince?”
“Yes, and my stallion’s mane, too!” He wiped his other hand across his nose. “It stung me as we galloped. But we went so fast, no one else could catch us.” The thrill of that suffused his face.
“You did, didn’t you?” She smiled down at him, immensely cheered by the signs of his improvement. “So fast that not even the illness could catch you, little racer.”
A gasp behind her made her turn. “So is he…?” Sulya’s eyes pleaded with her.
“He’s well on his way to recovery,” Varene said with a comforting smile. “He’s still dehydrated, but now that he’s awake and refreshed, he’ll be able to drink as much as he needs. Please make sure he does.”
Sulya nodded and stared at her son as if no amount of time with him could ever be enough.
Varene’s gaze flicked to the sultan, whom she was gratified to find watching her. The praise she saw in his eyes warmed her, sustained her.
“This is a gift of the heavens,” Sohad breathed from the foot of the bed, staring down at the boy. “I wasn’t sure…I didn’t know if I could believe in you, Healer,” he admitted. “But this—this must be Naaz’s will.”
“Praise to the Divine Mother!” Sulya shouted. She turned and threw her arms around Kuramos.
Surprised, the sultan held her for a moment, avoiding Varene’s eyes and expecting the flashy embrace to reach a timely end. When it did not, he spotted Sulya peering at Varene and surmised his Sixth Wife had decided to be the center of attention.
He stepped back and took Sulya’s hands in his own, distancing himself. “Our son is going to be well now. You should go to your own bed and sleep. Regain the hours that you’ve lost.”
She shot a look at Varene. “But I want to be here while—”
“Sleep, Sulya.” His voice was firm. “Your work as a mother has paid off. Tahir is here to bask in your love, and now we can be sure he’ll still be here when you are rested.”
The compliments seemed to soothe her ruffled feathers, but she wasn’t yet ready to concede. “Yes, O Lord, I’m sure that’s true. But I—”
“Go rest, Sulya.” His exasperation was rising, and Sulya sensed it, too.
“I hear and obey, O Lord.” Her throaty voice wielded a cutting edge as she departed.
“Healer and Assistant,” he said with an encompassing glance, “you have my leave. Go and check on your other patients.” Sohad, closer to the door, made his obeisance first and exited. Varene followed, valiantly trying to veil her hurt at being dismissed.
“Varene,” Kuramos called softly as she was about to cross the threshold. She hesitated, then turned to him.
He took a deep breath, letting his feelings fill his chest and lift his words. “Healer Varene,” he said, gazing into her blue eyes. “Know that you have wrought a miracle.”
As his heartfelt thanks reached her, her mouth rose, branding her radiant smile into his soul.
When she passed out of the doorway, the room seemed once again bereft, until he looked down at his son and sank to his knees. By Tahir’s bedside, as his youngest child conversed with him and then floated into a healthy, untroubled sleep for the first time in days, the Great Sultan of Kad shed his own tears. They rolled down his cheeks for the healing of his family, and in gratitude for the sorceress who had given him back his cursed soul.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
To Varene’s joy, the other patients followed Tahir’s lead. The adults stayed in the trance for a few hours longer—children always seemed to heal faster—but by late afternoon they’d all emerged on the mend from their magical sleep.
All three of the medical staff (as Varene had begun to think of herself, Sohad, and Priya) were kept busy bringing sherbet and iced juices to their patients. Their coughs dried up, their fevers shrank, and their skin regained its elasticity. Early that evening Varene fell into bed exhausted but happy, and when she finally woke, Priya was padding in to bring her some sustenance.
Varene sat up, blinking at the bright light and relieved to find the heaviness gone from her limbs. “Mmm, thank you. How long did I sleep?”
“Thirteen hours.” The handmaiden smiled and held out Varene’s linen gown.
Varene rose and slipped the burgundy linen over her head, then tugged it into place with Priya’s help. “Our patients are all doing better?” She slid her feet into the caramel silk slippers that replaced the old black pair lost in the riot.
“Much.” Priya leaned down to tighten the gown’s sidelaces. “Most are keen to leave their pallets and get back to their jobs.”
Varene inhaled, reveling in her success. “That’s good to hear.” She took the bowl of rice pudding with cinnamon and almonds that Priya offered her and sat on the divan to eat. “We can’t let the patients jump back to life as usual, though. They’ve survived, but we still need to determine how the illness spread. I want to make sure there will be no second wave.” And then I’ll go home.
She sighed, remembering the heated look she and Kuramos had exchanged when she’d mentioned her departure.
Priya began to make the bed. “I’m sure you’d be able to stop another outbreak,” she answered confidently.
“Not if I’m not here.”
The handmaiden paused, hands grasping the edge of the blanket, and peered at her. “You’re not going to stay in Kad?”
“I have a home and a career in Teganne. I have to go back.” And it would be wonderful to see Alvarr and Jilian again, and sleep in her own snug bed high in the castle, waking just as the sun lit the emerald fields and danced along the high forest boughs… Though here in the golden heat of Kuramos’s palace, it was odd how far away her life in Teganne felt.
“Of course.” Priya gave an uncertain smile. “It’s just that Sohad—” she said his name shyly— “told me he was hoping you might teach him some of your techniques.”
“Did he?” The thought pleased her. Sohad, who had literally turned his back on her healing two days before, now wanted to learn more. Kad might despise magic, but Sohad’s interest was a tiny and promising step. “I’d enjoy teaching him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the kyrra for it. Though if he’d really like to train, perhaps he could come to Teganne and apprentice with me there.”
Priya’s big eyes wavered. “Oh. Well, yes, I’m sure that would be best.”
Varene watched her for a moment, then shot her a sympathetic look. “You don’t want him to go.”
“Of course I do.” Priya resumed her sheet-pulling. “He’s talented. He should have the best training. And that means he should go wherever he can find it.”
“I meant, you don’t want him to go without you.”
Priya’s cheeks flushed and she smoothed a corner of the bed with more vigor than the sheets warranted.
Varene smiled. “I’ve seen the looks you two give each other. He seems to be a good man.”
In the ensuing silence, Priya straightened, looking down at her toes.
“It’s all right,” Varene finally said as she scraped the pudding together for her final spoonfuls. “We don’t need to talk about it. I didn’t mean to pry. Forgi
ve me, please.”
The rosy tint remained in Priya’s cheeks and one hand fluttered up, shyly waving off the apology as she moved to another corner of the bed.
“Well.” Varene cleared her throat. “I need to investigate the cause of the illness. Are you willing to help?”
“Yes, of course. I’m curious about it, too.”
“Good. Perhaps we’ll begin by talking with the sultan’s wives.” Varene stood and laid the bowl on a side table.
“All right, my lady, though most of them are no longer in their beds.”
Varene glanced at her in surprise. “So soon? Where are they?”
“In the hammam.” Priya tugged the final wrinkles from the blanket.
“Hammam? What is that?”
“The house of baths.” Priya looked over with a bright smile.
“The house of… They’re bathing?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“All of them?”
“All.”
Varene’s brows knitted. “Together?”
“It’s their daily ritual.”
She stared at Priya a moment longer. “Baths in Teganne are a daily matter, too, though generally taken alone…unless the bath is intended for something besides, er, personal cleansing. Ahem. Here, women bathe together out of choice?”
“Oh, yes, the sultanas especially. They look forward to it every day.” Priya got a wistful look in her eyes. “Scented water washes away their cares. They’re scrubbed and cleansed,” she continued, pantomiming along with her words, “then anointed with perfumes and sweet oils. Their hair is tended and plaited, sherbets and sweetmeats are served them, and they gather to relax and talk.” She sighed. “Is it any wonder they enjoy it?”
“I suppose not,” Varene said, as amused by Priya’s reaction as by the sultanas’ habits. “I guess we’ll have to talk to them when they’re done bathing. When will that be?”
“Oh, a very long time, my lady. Mid-afternoon, at least.”
Varene’s brows rose.
“So, Healer.” The deep, amused tones sounded behind her. She whirled to find Kuramos leaning against the doorframe, his sensual lips curled into a half-smile. “Would you like to go to the hammam with me?”
Varene’s heart did an unexpected shimmy. Kuramos couldn’t possibly mean…
“Come,” he said, in his arrogant, magnetic voice—the one that made Varene want to argue and purr all at once. “As Priya was saying, it’s an excellent time to talk with my wives.”
Varene gave herself a mental shake and walked out behind him, shadowed by Priya.
Following the sultan in his long-striding wake, Varene had cause for more amusement. Today he was not wearing a kaftan, but a stunning red churidar—thin pants that snugged in many tight folds around his lower legs. Perhaps because of the heat, his torso was bare. Varene enjoyed the play of light across his muscles and the glint off his armbands. Though the churidar wasn’t tight enough for her to get a good idea of the shape of his backside, she noted the athletic contours of his calves and how his broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist of tanned, smooth skin.
Perhaps this is why women in Kad walk behind their men without complaint. She grinned.
As they strolled the halls, those they passed stopped what they were doing to bow deeply before their sultan—in the case of servants, so low that their noses touched their knees. He did not even glance at the bobbing shapes, but seemed to take it as his due. Yes, that fit—how annoyed he’d become when she’d not given him enough deference! The memory made her want to giggle.
This was all so different from Teganne, where no one gave or expected such obeisance. Even the royals’ servants simply nodded and went on with their duties. She doubted Alvarr or Jilian had ever thought to expect more—or would want it.
Perhaps Teganne was unusual. If so, she felt lucky indeed, for this pervasive awareness of rank made her want to roll her eyes to the heavens. Even in her birthplace of Fallorm…
She slammed that line of thought closed and shifted her attention to the sultan’s magnificent shoulders instead.
Soon he stopped before onyx double doors. Two guards flanked the entry and bowed low to the sultan, who swung around and watched Varene as she took the last few steps.
“Enjoy yourself in the hammam. And I hope you find the answers you seek.”
Varene blinked. “I’m only here to investigate, not to actually bathe.”
“Of course,” he said smoothly, and waved his hand toward the doors. The blank-faced guards swung them open as if their movement were merely an extension of his own.
She glimpsed gorgeous blue-toned mosaics fanning across the floors and walls, and the humidity rose as scented air from the baths swirled languidly into the hall.
She stepped forward and realized he wasn’t moving. “You aren’t coming in?”
His sea-green gaze snared her own. “Would you…like me to accompany you?”
She drew herself up. “No! No. I just don’t know your customs.” Besides, it will be less of a distraction with you out here.
A tiny cough rose to her throat. Naturally, I meant less of a distraction for the wives…
He shook his head, ruefully amused. “There are certain things women prefer to keep to themselves. I rarely join them in the baths. But perhaps later, you’ll tell me what you think of our…customs. And our baths.” With a wicked grin, he strode away.
She stared after him for a moment before remembering she was not alone. Priya watched her quizzically. The guards stood immobile, as if the two women didn’t exist.
Taking a deep breath, Varene turned and entered the hammam of the queens of Kad with the handmaiden Priya at her heels.
“To the left, my lady.”
At Priya’s murmur, Varene moved toward a room raised by one step. A forest-green runner cushioned her silk slippers, but the rest of the floor shone with condensation and humid air clung to her skin.
“If I may.” Priya somehow made her frail self slimmer and slipped past Varene into the room. With a bow, she waved the Healer into a nook with clothes rods and carved ivory shelves. Seconds later, the handmaiden was untying the laces of Varene’s gown.
Varene grabbed Priya’s hand. “What are you doing?”
Priya stared at her, wide-eyed. “Undoing your gown, my lady, so you can enter the baths…”
Varene’s brow quirked up. “I don’t need to be naked to ask questions, do I?”
“I suppose not.” Priya glanced at Varene’s garment and frowned. “But this lovely dress would be ruined if it got wet, would it not?”
Varene laughed. “These are my working clothes. They’ve seen much worse during my work, believe me.”
“My lady… aren’t you hot in them? In Kad we wear much less, as you can see…” She held out her bare arms and swept her gaze from one to the other over the small, high bosom nearly bursting from her tight silk bandeau.
“Yes, indeed,” Varene mused. It was warm in the hammam; locks of hair that had escaped her ponytail clung to her neck and temples. “But in Teganne, we tend not to be naked in front of others. Unless…well, you know.”
Priya giggled. “Kaddites tend to be naked for that, too.” She blushed then, and gave a quick bow, as though that alleviated her embarrassment. “But here women often bathe together, just as men often bathe together. Being cleansed is a celebrated ritual, one best enjoyed with company and talk.” She gave Varene a thoughtful look. “It will be even hotter in the baths themselves. Are you sure you wished to remain so…dressed?”
Varene glanced down at her own torso. It was already damp, her linen shift clinging unpleasantly. But she wasn’t about to go parading nude in front of Kuramos’s wives.
“Perhaps I could remove the gown, Priya. The undertunic will preserve my…Tegannese modesty, shall we say.” She let the handmaiden loosen the laces and pull the gown over her head, and then stood self-consciously in her beige shift, covered from neck to wrists and ankles, as Priya carefully folded her gown.
Ridiculous, Varene scolded herself. How many times had she had to undress patients over the years? She was a Healer, for goodness’ sake, long familiar with every aspect of the body. Why should her own be different?
But it wasn’t only about being exposed… It was about being so in front of women who’d long shared Kuramos’s life and bed.
She’d met nearly all of Kuramos’s wives in the course of her healing, and had no doubts that the wives of a sultan were chosen for their beauty and other charms. Varene knew she was attractive—some men had even said beautiful—but she’d never compared herself to the most exquisite women of an entire realm. Especially cosseted, nubile sultanas.
Priya tucked the gown on a shelf and placed two wooden pattens by Varene’s feet. “Bath sandals, my lady. So you won’t slip.” The soles of the sandals were held off the ground by five-inch trestles. Mother-of-pearl inlays along the wood created a gorgeous contrast, but Varene’s brow creased as she wondered how she could possibly walk on such contraptions.
Without further ado, Priya located a second pair for herself and began to strip off her own garb.
The maidservant was going naked, too? Varene would be the only one wearing a stitch of clothing! Well, she thought, bemused, at least my “Tegannese eccentricities” should excuse me.
For an instant she wondered if she shouldn’t just strip… She reached for her shift, but her fingers clung to it for comfort. Fine, then. Let’s just be done with this. She slipped her feet into the leather straps of the pattens and took an awkward, exploratory step.
Sticks and stars! Could she be more ungainly? Surely women weren’t meant to clop around on stilts.
She should have waited to speak to the wives in a normal environment. Maybe she could stop now and go talk to those still in the infirmary…
“Priya?”
At the contralto tones behind them, Varene turned. A rotund woman approached, wearing a turban, a frown, and nothing else.
