The Desert Spear
Page 174
The demon reached out again, and Inevera’s horapouch flew to its hands. She shrieked as it upended the bag, dropping her precious dice into its clawed hand.
Leesha and Inevera charged the demon with their warded knives, but it drew another ward in the air that flared to throw them across the room as if picked up by a great wind.
The alagai hora glowed as the demon absorbed their power. Jardir felt a strange mix of fear and relief as the dice that had controlled his life for more than twenty years crumbled to dust. Inevera wailed as if the sight caused her physical pain.
The mimic demon regained its senses as soon as its master recovered, but Jardir was already moving, springing across the broken bed on his good leg. He caught the Spear of Kaji in his hands as he rolled off the far side, letting his weight pull it from the wall.
Pain screamed through Jardir’s mangled leg as he came to his feet, but he embraced it effortlessly, his movements sharp and decisive as he drew back and threw.
And before either demon could react, the fight was over. The spear blasted through the mind demon’s skull, leaving a gaping, blasted hole and continuing on to stick quivering in the far wall. The mind demon fell dead, and without it, the mimic fell to the ground shrieking and thrashing about as if on fire. Finally it lay still, a melted pile of scale and claw.
Leesha came awake at the sound of a sharp crack, opening her eyes to see Jardir, his eyes closed and his face serene as Inevera pulled hard on his foot to give herself play to reinsert the bone jutting from his leg.
Shaking off her own pains, Leesha fumbled to her side, taking the bone in her hand and guiding it back into the incision Inevera had cut. As with Arlen, the wound began to close almost instantly, but Leesha still reached for needle and thread to stitch it evenly.
“There is no need,” Inevera said, rising to her feet and going to the mind demon’s body. She drew her warded knife and cut off one of its vestigial horns. She returned with the foul, ichorous thing, then removed a thin brush and bottle from her pouch. She drew neat wards along the edges of Jardir’s wound, and as she passed the horn over them, the wards flared, closing the incision seamlessly.
She did the same for her own wound, and then wordlessly tended to Leesha, not meeting her eyes. Leesha watched in silence, memorizing the wards Inevera used and the fashion in which she knit them together.
She looked at the horn when she was finished. It was still intact, and Inevera grunted. “I’ll make better dice from this one’s bones, anyway.” Leesha went to the mind demon’s body herself, cutting off the other horn and one of its arms. These she rolled in a heavy tapestry for later study. Inevera’s eyes narrowed at her, but she said nothing.
“Why has no one come to investigate the sounds of battle?” Jardir asked.
“I expect it was simple for Alagai Ka to draw wards of silence around your chambers,” Inevera said. “They will likely remain in power until the sunlight strikes the walls.”
Jardir looked at them. “It controlled everything you said and did?”
Inevera nodded. “It…ah, even made us fight each other, for its amusement.” She touched her swollen nose gingerly.
Leesha felt her face color, and she coughed. “Yes,” she agreed, “it made us do that.”
“Why play such cruel games?” Jardir asked. “Why not just have one of you cut my throat as we lay in the pillows?”
“Because it didn’t want to kill you,” Inevera said. “It’s more afraid of your power to inspire than to fight, and none inspires more than a martyr.”
“Better to discredit you and splinter the unity of your forces,” Leesha put in.
“But you are the Shar’Dama Ka,” Inevera said. “There can be no further question, with Alagai Ka dead at your hand.”
Jardir shook his head. “That was not Alagai Ka. It was too easy. More likely, this was the least of his princelings. There will be more, and greater.”
“I think so, too,” Leesha said, looking at Jardir. “Which is why I’m holding you to your promise, Ahmann. I have seen Everam’s Bounty, and now I wish to return home. I must prepare my people.”
“You do not need to go,” Inevera said, and Leesha could tell how hard the words came to her. “I will have you as one of my husband’s Jiwah Sen.”
“A ‘lesser’ wife?” Leesha laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I will still make you my Northern Jiwah Ka, if you wish it,” Jardir said. Inevera scowled.
Leesha smiled sadly. “I would still be one of many, Ahmann. The man I wed will be mine, alone.” His face fell, but Leesha held firm, and Jardir nodded finally.
“The Hollow tribe will be honored regardless,” he said. “I cannot prevent the tribes from trying to steal a few of your wells, but know that they will be subject to my wrath should they war upon you.”
Leesha dropped her eyes, afraid she might cry if she saw the sadness in his eyes any longer. “Thank you,” she said tightly.
Jardir reached out, touching her shoulder and squeezing gently. “And I…apologize, if what happened in the Palace of Mirrors was not your own will.”
Leesha laughed out loud, all fear of tears gone. She threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the cheek.
“We did that in the light of day, Ahmann,” she said with a wink.
“I am saddened to see you leave, mistress,” Abban said a few days later, as his wives packed up the last of the endless gifts Jardir had bestowed. “I will miss our conversations.”
“And miss having the Palace of Mirrors to hide the comeliest of your wives and daughters from the dal’Sharum?” Leesha asked.
Abban looked at her in surprise, then bowed, smiling. “You’ve learned more of our tongue than you let on.”
“Why don’t you just tell Ahmann?” Leesha asked. “Let him discipline Hasik and the others. They can’t just go around raping whomever they want.”
“Your pardon, mistress, but the law says they can,” Abban said. Leesha opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “Ahmann’s power is not as absolute as he thinks. Disciplining his own men over a khaffit’s women would sow discord among the men he trusts to carry spears at his back.”
“And that’s more important than the safety of your family?” Leesha asked.
Abban’s eyes grew hard. “Do not assume you understand all our ways after living among us a few weeks. I will find a way to protect my family that doesn’t threaten my master.”
Leesha bowed. “I’m sorry.”
Abban smiled. “Repay me by letting me build a pavilion in your village. My family has one with every tribe, to trade in goods and livestock. Everam’s Bounty has more grain than it needs, and I know there are hungry mouths to the north.”
“That’s kind of you,” Leesha said.
“It is not,” Abban replied, “as you will see when my wives haggle with your people for the first time.” Leesha smiled.
There was a call from outside, and Abban limped over to the window and looked down into the courtyard. “Your escort is ready. Come, and I will see you down.”
“What happened between Ahmann and the Par’chin, Abban?” Leesha asked, unable to contain herself any longer. If she did not learn the answer now, she likely never would. “Why did Ahmann seem angry that you mentioned him to me? Why were you afraid when I told you I mentioned him to Ahmann?”
Leesha and Inevera charged the demon with their warded knives, but it drew another ward in the air that flared to throw them across the room as if picked up by a great wind.
The alagai hora glowed as the demon absorbed their power. Jardir felt a strange mix of fear and relief as the dice that had controlled his life for more than twenty years crumbled to dust. Inevera wailed as if the sight caused her physical pain.
The mimic demon regained its senses as soon as its master recovered, but Jardir was already moving, springing across the broken bed on his good leg. He caught the Spear of Kaji in his hands as he rolled off the far side, letting his weight pull it from the wall.
Pain screamed through Jardir’s mangled leg as he came to his feet, but he embraced it effortlessly, his movements sharp and decisive as he drew back and threw.
And before either demon could react, the fight was over. The spear blasted through the mind demon’s skull, leaving a gaping, blasted hole and continuing on to stick quivering in the far wall. The mind demon fell dead, and without it, the mimic fell to the ground shrieking and thrashing about as if on fire. Finally it lay still, a melted pile of scale and claw.
Leesha came awake at the sound of a sharp crack, opening her eyes to see Jardir, his eyes closed and his face serene as Inevera pulled hard on his foot to give herself play to reinsert the bone jutting from his leg.
Shaking off her own pains, Leesha fumbled to her side, taking the bone in her hand and guiding it back into the incision Inevera had cut. As with Arlen, the wound began to close almost instantly, but Leesha still reached for needle and thread to stitch it evenly.
“There is no need,” Inevera said, rising to her feet and going to the mind demon’s body. She drew her warded knife and cut off one of its vestigial horns. She returned with the foul, ichorous thing, then removed a thin brush and bottle from her pouch. She drew neat wards along the edges of Jardir’s wound, and as she passed the horn over them, the wards flared, closing the incision seamlessly.
She did the same for her own wound, and then wordlessly tended to Leesha, not meeting her eyes. Leesha watched in silence, memorizing the wards Inevera used and the fashion in which she knit them together.
She looked at the horn when she was finished. It was still intact, and Inevera grunted. “I’ll make better dice from this one’s bones, anyway.” Leesha went to the mind demon’s body herself, cutting off the other horn and one of its arms. These she rolled in a heavy tapestry for later study. Inevera’s eyes narrowed at her, but she said nothing.
“Why has no one come to investigate the sounds of battle?” Jardir asked.
“I expect it was simple for Alagai Ka to draw wards of silence around your chambers,” Inevera said. “They will likely remain in power until the sunlight strikes the walls.”
Jardir looked at them. “It controlled everything you said and did?”
Inevera nodded. “It…ah, even made us fight each other, for its amusement.” She touched her swollen nose gingerly.
Leesha felt her face color, and she coughed. “Yes,” she agreed, “it made us do that.”
“Why play such cruel games?” Jardir asked. “Why not just have one of you cut my throat as we lay in the pillows?”
“Because it didn’t want to kill you,” Inevera said. “It’s more afraid of your power to inspire than to fight, and none inspires more than a martyr.”
“Better to discredit you and splinter the unity of your forces,” Leesha put in.
“But you are the Shar’Dama Ka,” Inevera said. “There can be no further question, with Alagai Ka dead at your hand.”
Jardir shook his head. “That was not Alagai Ka. It was too easy. More likely, this was the least of his princelings. There will be more, and greater.”
“I think so, too,” Leesha said, looking at Jardir. “Which is why I’m holding you to your promise, Ahmann. I have seen Everam’s Bounty, and now I wish to return home. I must prepare my people.”
“You do not need to go,” Inevera said, and Leesha could tell how hard the words came to her. “I will have you as one of my husband’s Jiwah Sen.”
“A ‘lesser’ wife?” Leesha laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I will still make you my Northern Jiwah Ka, if you wish it,” Jardir said. Inevera scowled.
Leesha smiled sadly. “I would still be one of many, Ahmann. The man I wed will be mine, alone.” His face fell, but Leesha held firm, and Jardir nodded finally.
“The Hollow tribe will be honored regardless,” he said. “I cannot prevent the tribes from trying to steal a few of your wells, but know that they will be subject to my wrath should they war upon you.”
Leesha dropped her eyes, afraid she might cry if she saw the sadness in his eyes any longer. “Thank you,” she said tightly.
Jardir reached out, touching her shoulder and squeezing gently. “And I…apologize, if what happened in the Palace of Mirrors was not your own will.”
Leesha laughed out loud, all fear of tears gone. She threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the cheek.
“We did that in the light of day, Ahmann,” she said with a wink.
“I am saddened to see you leave, mistress,” Abban said a few days later, as his wives packed up the last of the endless gifts Jardir had bestowed. “I will miss our conversations.”
“And miss having the Palace of Mirrors to hide the comeliest of your wives and daughters from the dal’Sharum?” Leesha asked.
Abban looked at her in surprise, then bowed, smiling. “You’ve learned more of our tongue than you let on.”
“Why don’t you just tell Ahmann?” Leesha asked. “Let him discipline Hasik and the others. They can’t just go around raping whomever they want.”
“Your pardon, mistress, but the law says they can,” Abban said. Leesha opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “Ahmann’s power is not as absolute as he thinks. Disciplining his own men over a khaffit’s women would sow discord among the men he trusts to carry spears at his back.”
“And that’s more important than the safety of your family?” Leesha asked.
Abban’s eyes grew hard. “Do not assume you understand all our ways after living among us a few weeks. I will find a way to protect my family that doesn’t threaten my master.”
Leesha bowed. “I’m sorry.”
Abban smiled. “Repay me by letting me build a pavilion in your village. My family has one with every tribe, to trade in goods and livestock. Everam’s Bounty has more grain than it needs, and I know there are hungry mouths to the north.”
“That’s kind of you,” Leesha said.
“It is not,” Abban replied, “as you will see when my wives haggle with your people for the first time.” Leesha smiled.
There was a call from outside, and Abban limped over to the window and looked down into the courtyard. “Your escort is ready. Come, and I will see you down.”
“What happened between Ahmann and the Par’chin, Abban?” Leesha asked, unable to contain herself any longer. If she did not learn the answer now, she likely never would. “Why did Ahmann seem angry that you mentioned him to me? Why were you afraid when I told you I mentioned him to Ahmann?”
