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The Bronze Blade

Page 15

   


“Tend to her,” the man carrying her said. He stepped inside the tent and put Saraal on the ground. “Wash her and find some new clothes. She won’t need much to heal, just some blood. You or one of the girls may give it to her. She is a child of Jun.”
The human nodded with respect. “I will feed her my own blood, Master.”
Aday lay next to her and stroked her back. Saraal sighed and said, “Should I run now, Aday?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me if I need to, please. I’m going to sleep now.”
“Stay awake for a while longer. Feed from the woman, so you can be strong.”
“Should I kill her?”
“No.”
A pair of knees hit the floor in front of her face.
“Listen to me,” the dark-eyed Sida said. “I have let you shelter in my tent. My humans will feed you. You will not kill any of them. They are my property, not yours. Do you understand?”
His hand reached over and tugged her short hair. Saraal hissed and he let go, but he still glared at her.
“I know you’re mad, but do you understand me at all?”
Saraal curled her lip, revealing a vicious fang.
The other man was standing at the tent flap. “I don’t trust her. She needs to be guarded.”
“I think if we feed her, she’ll become more lucid. She’s barely conscious right now.”
Aday stretched out on the ground and threw an arm around Saraal’s waist. “We’re not mad. Why can’t they see that? There’s a difference between madness and anger.”
“Put a guard on her, Temur. Or put her in the ground.”
Saraal screamed and rolled away. She felt her body leave the ground as she scrambled to move away from the man called Temur. She had to get away. Far away. Away from the ground. Into the air where she could dissolve into darkness. If she could only become nothing, perhaps they would leave her alone. Perhaps—
“Stop!”
Four hands pulled her down from the corner of the tent, where she was trying to tear through the skins. They pushed her down to the ground, holding her arms and legs. The screams froze in her throat. Saraal let her body go dead. She let her limbs fall still. Then she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, spreading her legs to that it would be over more quickly.
The man who’d been standing by the tent flap grunted. “I think we know one of the things they did to her.”
“Are you surprised?”
“No.”
“Obviously, they buried her, too. My guess is that is what caused this. So let’s not mention the ground again. Eh, Roshan?”
The man’s voice dropped. “She’s powerful. Do you feel it? Even in her condition—”
“I know.”
They slowly let go of her arms and ankles, and Saraal curled into a ball again. Safe. She went to the black sky in her mind and flew, humming a tune her grandmother had taught her.
A soft hand stroked her head. “Girl, we will not bury you.”
She rocked back and forth, and Aday sang along with her.
“Do you understand?”
She felt a wrist pressed to her mouth. She didn’t think; she just opened her mouth and drank.
Sweet, sweet, sweet. Sweeter than Kuluun’s woman, even.
Someone pinched her nose and pulled her away from the wrist.
Saraal gave into her instincts and slept.
When she woke, the tent was empty. She was healed. Her hair was clean and her clothes were fresh. She looked down at herself, barely recognizing what she could see. She opened her senses, but she couldn’t hear Aday anywhere.
The tent flap was partially open, letting fresh air invade the stuffy shelter. Saraal crept closer and peeked out.
Half the camp was gone. Tents burned. Animal and human bodies scattered. A huge fire was burning in the cooking pit. Though she smelled humans around, she did not hear any screaming. Voices drifted from around the fire, so she crept closer, staying in the deep shadows. The moon was full and the air smelled of smoke, roasted meat, and blood.
“—too much attention. Our father is not pleased.”
“What does he care if the humans die?”
Kuluun was still alive, but clearly was being questioned by the Sida called Temur. Saraal recognized him now. He was the other Sida who had been there the night Jun had sired her. He’d been there, but had left with Jun. Years had passed, but now Temur was back. And Saraal could hear the anxiety in Kuluun’s voice. He was trying to mask it with arrogance, but she could hear through it.
“Jun doesn’t care about the humans. He cares about discretion. You have become a terror over these plains. Stories spread. They spread about the god who flies, burns villages, and steals food. They spread along the trade routes where they meet stories of a god in the west who commands fire from heaven. Do you want this god to hear of us?”
“Who are we to fear some myth from the west?” Kuluun scoffed.
Temur’s voice rose. “Are you so stupid you think we are the only of our kind? Jun commands this place, yes. But there are others, Kuluun. I have seen this Sida from the west, and he is frightening to behold. You kill with a sword, but this immortal kills with fire from his hands. He and Jun avoid each other, and you are testing your father’s patience with your actions.”
Saraal heard a low murmur and realized that many other Sida were also listening. She peeked around the corner of the tent and saw Kuluun and Temur staring at each other from across the fire. Kuluun’s sons stood at his back, but Temur had his own men, and they looked far more dangerous. Saraal also noticed that many of Kuluun’s sons were gone. Where there had been thirty or forty before, no more than a dozen joined him now.