The Desert Spear
Page 138
Gared recoiled, and again Jardir was amazed at the power of the woman. She made the dama’ting seem timid.
Leesha turned to him. “I apologize, Ahmann.” She seemed taken aback when he smiled brightly at her. “What did I say?”
“My name,” Jardir said simply.
“I’m sorry,” Leesha said. “Was that improper of me?”
“On the contrary,” Jardir said. “It sounds beautiful, coming from your lips.”
With no veil to cover her cheeks, Jardir saw how her pale skin reddened at his words. He had never courted a woman before, but it seemed as if Everam himself guided his words.
“More than three thousand years ago,” Jardir said, “my ancestor Kaji ruled this land from the Southern Sea to the frozen waste.”
“So the histories say,” Leesha agreed, “though three thousand years is a long time, and accounts can become…blurred.”
“Perhaps here in the North,” Jardir said, “but the temple of Sharik Hora in the Desert Spear has stood that long and more, and our records are sharp. Kaji did rule this land, sometimes by the spear, and sometimes by building alliance with its tribes and sealing it with blood.”
He looked around the table. “Kaji’s blood is still strong here. Even your name, Deliverer’s Hollow, honors him. You are not chin to be conquered, but lost brethren to be welcomed into our fold. I name you Hollow tribe, and accord you all the rights therein.”
“What rights?” Leesha asked.
Jardir reached into his robe, producing his personal Evejah. Its cover was of supple leather embossed with wards, and its pages were gilded in gold. A red ribbon hung ready to mark a page. The pages were soft and thin from daily use.
“These rights,” he said, giving her the volume.
Leesha took the book as one who knew its value, and he recalled she was a bookbinder’s daughter as she turned it to examine the spine. She pushed her bowl aside and spread the cloth from her lap over the table before laying the book upon it and paging through.
“It’s beautiful,” she said after a time. “But much as I would love to learn the language, I’m afraid I can’t understand a word.” She closed the book and held it out to him.
Jardir held up a hand to forestall her. “Keep it. What better book to help you learn? You may find its truths more in line with your own beliefs than you imagine.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” Leesha said. “This is too precious!”
Jardir laughed. “You give me a cloak that rivals Kaji’s own, and you balk at a book of his truths? I can pen another.”
Leesha looked back down at the book, and then up at him. “You penned this yourself?”
“In my own blood,” Jardir said, “during the years I studied in Sharik Hora.”
Leesha’s eyes widened.
“It is not gold or jewels, I understand,” Jardir said. “I would shower them upon you if I could, but I brought no such trinkets north. This is the most valuable thing I own, apart from my crown, spear, and new cloak. I hope you will accept it while Abban negotiates a proper dower with your mother.”
“Dower?” Leesha asked in surprise.
“Of course,” Jardir said. “Your father gave me permission to court you, and your mother will see your price is met. Did they not tell you?”
“No they corespawned didn’t!” Leesha cried, rising to her feet so fast her chair skidded out behind her. In an instant everyone was on their feet. Jardir felt a sudden flash of fear. He had given offense to her, but without understanding how, he could not even apologize.
“Son of the Core!” the giant cried, and swung his meaty fist across the table at Jardir.
Jardir could not remember the last time a man had dared to strike at him. Had they been anywhere but at Mistress Leesha’s table, Jardir would have killed him for the affront, but remembering Leesha’s abhorrence of violence, he acted only in his own defense. He caught Gared’s wrist and pivoted, pulling him clear across the table and flipping him onto his back. He put a single toe into Gared’s throat and held his log of a wrist with only two fingers, but though the giant thrashed, he was held firmly prone and helpless, his face reddening more with every second.
“Your betters are speaking, Sharum,” he said. “I have tolerated your constant rudeness out of respect to Mistress Leesha, but if you try to lay hands on me again, I will tear your arm off.” He gave a slight tug, and Gared roared in pain. Everyone looked to Leesha for how to react.
Leesha crossed her arms. “Serves you right, Gared Cutter. No one asked you to attack anyone in my home.” She nodded to the door. “Out with you. Rojer and Wonda, too. You can all wait in the yard.”
“The Core we will!” Rojer cried, Wonda nodding along with him. “If you think we’re leaving you alone with this—”
There was a bang and a flash at their feet, and they jumped in shock. Leesha said nothing, but her face was a storm cloud as she pointed at the door. Both were gone in an instant. Jardir released Gared, and he, too, scurried out.
Jardir turned to Leesha and bowed long and deep. “I apologize, mistress, though I do not understand why I have given distress. I have come to you and your family honorably, yet you act as if I tried to carry you off after stealing a well.”
Leesha did not respond for a long time, and her anger was terrible to behold, such that Jardir had an urge to shield his eyes as if in a sandstorm. Slowly, she embraced the feeling, and her features grew calm once more.
“I apologize as well,” she said. “My distress is not directed at you, but at being the last to find out you had come courting.”
“Abban told your parents I would come immediately,” Jardir said. “I assumed they sent you word.”
Leesha nodded. “I believe you. My mother has a history of trying to make such arrangements without my knowledge.”
Jardir bowed. “If you need time to consider, you need not answer now.”
“Yes…,” Leesha began, “I mean, no. That is, I’m flattered, but I can’t marry you.”
You will, Jardir thought. You are destined to love me as I already do you.
“Why not?” he asked her instead. “Your mother says you are unspoken for, and I will meet any dower your family desires. Soon I will control all the Northland, and you with me. What husband could offer you more?”
Leesha paused for a moment, then shook her head as if to clear it. “It doesn’t matter. I barely know you, dowers mean nothing to me, and frankly, I don’t know that I want you ‘controlling’ anything.”
“Come with me to Everam’s Bounty,” Jardir said. “Come see my people and what we are building. I will teach you our language as you asked, and you can come to know me and decide what I am…worthy to control.”
Leesha looked at him a long time, but Jardir waited patiently, knowing her answer was inevera. “All right,” she said at last, “but with proper chaperone, and no decision until I am safely returned to the Hollow.”
Jardir bowed. “Of course. I swear it by Everam.”
Rojer paced the yard, staring at Leesha’s cottage. Gared’s clenched fists were like two hams, and even Wonda had fetched and strung her bow. Finally, the door opened, and Leesha followed Jardir out onto the porch. “Wonda, escort Mr. Jardir back to town,” she said. “Gared, you can finish cording the woodpile.”
Leesha turned to him. “I apologize, Ahmann.” She seemed taken aback when he smiled brightly at her. “What did I say?”
“My name,” Jardir said simply.
“I’m sorry,” Leesha said. “Was that improper of me?”
“On the contrary,” Jardir said. “It sounds beautiful, coming from your lips.”
With no veil to cover her cheeks, Jardir saw how her pale skin reddened at his words. He had never courted a woman before, but it seemed as if Everam himself guided his words.
“More than three thousand years ago,” Jardir said, “my ancestor Kaji ruled this land from the Southern Sea to the frozen waste.”
“So the histories say,” Leesha agreed, “though three thousand years is a long time, and accounts can become…blurred.”
“Perhaps here in the North,” Jardir said, “but the temple of Sharik Hora in the Desert Spear has stood that long and more, and our records are sharp. Kaji did rule this land, sometimes by the spear, and sometimes by building alliance with its tribes and sealing it with blood.”
He looked around the table. “Kaji’s blood is still strong here. Even your name, Deliverer’s Hollow, honors him. You are not chin to be conquered, but lost brethren to be welcomed into our fold. I name you Hollow tribe, and accord you all the rights therein.”
“What rights?” Leesha asked.
Jardir reached into his robe, producing his personal Evejah. Its cover was of supple leather embossed with wards, and its pages were gilded in gold. A red ribbon hung ready to mark a page. The pages were soft and thin from daily use.
“These rights,” he said, giving her the volume.
Leesha took the book as one who knew its value, and he recalled she was a bookbinder’s daughter as she turned it to examine the spine. She pushed her bowl aside and spread the cloth from her lap over the table before laying the book upon it and paging through.
“It’s beautiful,” she said after a time. “But much as I would love to learn the language, I’m afraid I can’t understand a word.” She closed the book and held it out to him.
Jardir held up a hand to forestall her. “Keep it. What better book to help you learn? You may find its truths more in line with your own beliefs than you imagine.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” Leesha said. “This is too precious!”
Jardir laughed. “You give me a cloak that rivals Kaji’s own, and you balk at a book of his truths? I can pen another.”
Leesha looked back down at the book, and then up at him. “You penned this yourself?”
“In my own blood,” Jardir said, “during the years I studied in Sharik Hora.”
Leesha’s eyes widened.
“It is not gold or jewels, I understand,” Jardir said. “I would shower them upon you if I could, but I brought no such trinkets north. This is the most valuable thing I own, apart from my crown, spear, and new cloak. I hope you will accept it while Abban negotiates a proper dower with your mother.”
“Dower?” Leesha asked in surprise.
“Of course,” Jardir said. “Your father gave me permission to court you, and your mother will see your price is met. Did they not tell you?”
“No they corespawned didn’t!” Leesha cried, rising to her feet so fast her chair skidded out behind her. In an instant everyone was on their feet. Jardir felt a sudden flash of fear. He had given offense to her, but without understanding how, he could not even apologize.
“Son of the Core!” the giant cried, and swung his meaty fist across the table at Jardir.
Jardir could not remember the last time a man had dared to strike at him. Had they been anywhere but at Mistress Leesha’s table, Jardir would have killed him for the affront, but remembering Leesha’s abhorrence of violence, he acted only in his own defense. He caught Gared’s wrist and pivoted, pulling him clear across the table and flipping him onto his back. He put a single toe into Gared’s throat and held his log of a wrist with only two fingers, but though the giant thrashed, he was held firmly prone and helpless, his face reddening more with every second.
“Your betters are speaking, Sharum,” he said. “I have tolerated your constant rudeness out of respect to Mistress Leesha, but if you try to lay hands on me again, I will tear your arm off.” He gave a slight tug, and Gared roared in pain. Everyone looked to Leesha for how to react.
Leesha crossed her arms. “Serves you right, Gared Cutter. No one asked you to attack anyone in my home.” She nodded to the door. “Out with you. Rojer and Wonda, too. You can all wait in the yard.”
“The Core we will!” Rojer cried, Wonda nodding along with him. “If you think we’re leaving you alone with this—”
There was a bang and a flash at their feet, and they jumped in shock. Leesha said nothing, but her face was a storm cloud as she pointed at the door. Both were gone in an instant. Jardir released Gared, and he, too, scurried out.
Jardir turned to Leesha and bowed long and deep. “I apologize, mistress, though I do not understand why I have given distress. I have come to you and your family honorably, yet you act as if I tried to carry you off after stealing a well.”
Leesha did not respond for a long time, and her anger was terrible to behold, such that Jardir had an urge to shield his eyes as if in a sandstorm. Slowly, she embraced the feeling, and her features grew calm once more.
“I apologize as well,” she said. “My distress is not directed at you, but at being the last to find out you had come courting.”
“Abban told your parents I would come immediately,” Jardir said. “I assumed they sent you word.”
Leesha nodded. “I believe you. My mother has a history of trying to make such arrangements without my knowledge.”
Jardir bowed. “If you need time to consider, you need not answer now.”
“Yes…,” Leesha began, “I mean, no. That is, I’m flattered, but I can’t marry you.”
You will, Jardir thought. You are destined to love me as I already do you.
“Why not?” he asked her instead. “Your mother says you are unspoken for, and I will meet any dower your family desires. Soon I will control all the Northland, and you with me. What husband could offer you more?”
Leesha paused for a moment, then shook her head as if to clear it. “It doesn’t matter. I barely know you, dowers mean nothing to me, and frankly, I don’t know that I want you ‘controlling’ anything.”
“Come with me to Everam’s Bounty,” Jardir said. “Come see my people and what we are building. I will teach you our language as you asked, and you can come to know me and decide what I am…worthy to control.”
Leesha looked at him a long time, but Jardir waited patiently, knowing her answer was inevera. “All right,” she said at last, “but with proper chaperone, and no decision until I am safely returned to the Hollow.”
Jardir bowed. “Of course. I swear it by Everam.”
Rojer paced the yard, staring at Leesha’s cottage. Gared’s clenched fists were like two hams, and even Wonda had fetched and strung her bow. Finally, the door opened, and Leesha followed Jardir out onto the porch. “Wonda, escort Mr. Jardir back to town,” she said. “Gared, you can finish cording the woodpile.”
