A Bait of Dreams (17 page)

She blinked and moved her lips. Then lifted her hands and passed them one after the other across her face. She was shaking. “Madar!” She shuddered. “Lorenzai.…”

He shifted her from the chair and held her against him. Carefully he swung around and sat down, still holding her. “Thought you knew better,” he said softly. He began stroking his hand over her hair and down her back. Over and over until she stopped shaking. Then he slipped from under her and settled her back in the chair. With a last touch on her cheek he went to the table and perched a hip on it. “All right?”

She smiled. The smile widened to a yawn, then her eyes began to glitter again. “Dear darling half-brother, he won't be able to put it down if I know him and I do know him. How long before it eats him?”

Lorenzai shrugged. “You felt the power. Two days. Three. Maddib and Chayl have arranged to send in some slave girls to the Apartas three days from now. They'll have more Eyes with them. Sadh-Mahar is working on the girls now to see that they do what we want, then forget everything. Once the Apartas have the Eyes, we move.” With a quick loud snap he shut the lid on the box, then picked up the leather sack. “You wanted to know how long. Four days. Satisfied?” He tossed the pouch to Amrezeh. “Hang on to that a minute.” Reaching behind him he scooped up the box and slid off the table. He crossed to a side wall and pressed the center of a salt-flower carved along the side of a panel, one flower in a cluster of five or six. A small square popped open, revealing a dark cavity. Lorenzai slid the box inside. After snapping the panel shut, he crossed to Amrezeh, took the sack from her and stuffed the Eye inside. He pulled the drawstring tight and held the sack out to her. “This is important, Rezah. The Ayandar may be crazy, but he's not stupid. We've got to take him out before we can move.”

“I can get it to him.” She took the sack and set it down on the arm of the chair. “He hates all his sisters, wouldn't tell them he's breathing if they thought him dead. Suspects them all of trying to poison him, especially the Ayandara. Only reason he tolerates me is because he thinks I've got no way I could take him out.” She giggled, stopped as the giggles grew shrill. “The fool!”

Lorenzai caught her flying hand and held it. “Won't be long now. Be patient, love.”

With her free hand she touched his cheek. “Won't he be surprised. And he did it to himself when he married me to you instead of throwing me over the cliff. He thought of doing that. I don't know why he changed his mind.” Her hand threaded through his hair in a gentle caress, then she ran the back of the hand down his face and touched it to his lips. “Dear brother.”

“You were lucky in your mother.” As she flushed and tried to snatch her hand away, he closed his fingers hard. “Don't be a fool, Rezeh. Think a minute about your half-sister Lahalla who's Ayandara now because she poisoned her crazy mother. Would you want to be that half-mad bitch whose only sustained interest is running after adolescent boys?” He laughed and pushed onto his feet. Still laughing, he stretched his arms over his head, groaning as he worked stiff muscles. He brought them down and grinned at her. “Or the Ayandar, degenerating by the day. Be glad you're what you are.” He backed up and rested his buttocks on the edge of the table. “Back to business. Zuwayl is bringing in the last shipment tomorrow. He'll be here at low tide. Said he'd have the rest of the Eyes we need and the last load of arms. Four days and you can kick those half-sisters of yours off the cliff if you want.” He canted his head, winked at her. “Satisfied?”

She yawned, brought her legs up and curled in the chair like a sleepy cat. “Yes. I want to see Lahalla bounce.” She opened her eyes wide suddenly and was out of the chair, running to him. “No.” She smoothed her hand down his body and leaned into him. “Come to bed.”

Gleia jerked back, poised to run across the room and out. Then Lorenzai's words stopped her. “Down there,” he said huskily. “Come down to the armory with me.”

Gleia leaned to the slit. He was off the table, leading Amrezeh toward a wall. She looked a bit dubious for the first few steps, then her eyes glazed as the thought of making love amid spears and swords began to excite her. Gleia shivered. He knows her. She shook her head, put her eye back to the crack.

Amrezeh was dancing impatiently from foot to foot as Lorenzai pushed at the centers of three salt-flowers. A long narrow section of wall gaped open suddenly. Lorenzai wriggled through first and Amrezeh followed, clinging to his thick robe.

Gleia hesitated a minute, then brushed through the curtains. With a glance at the tantalizing gap in the wood, she circled the table and ran to the place where Lorenzai had stored the box. After a little fumbling about she managed to open the small cavity. She took out the box and turned back its lid.

Ranga Eyes. Her tongue flicked around her lips. Their lure tickled at her, calling her. She hugged the box against her breast, staring down at the nested crystals. Hesitantly she touched them with the fingertips of her free hand, waking in the Eyes the veils of color and in herself an urgent desire to know if these would take her back to the world of beauty with stilt houses and butterfly people dancing in the air under a butter-yellow sun and daisies big as trees. The crystals warmed under her fingers. She flattened her palm over them, then lifted one out. As it nestled in the hollow of her palm she began to hear whispering voices, to see forms within the veils.

“No!” She slammed her hand against the wall. The pain broke the spell. She dropped the Eye back in the box, hastily counted them, then snapped the lid shut. Fifteen eyes. Fifteen souls sucked from their bodies. She pushed the box back into the cavity and clicked the panel shut. Rubbing at her hand, she crossed to the secret door. A little light penetrated from the lamps in the room and she could see the beginning of a spiral staircase. Curiosity pulled her in a step or two, then she shook her head and backed out.

She moved into the center of the room. Turning slowly, she examined it, then shook her head again. Nothing from here. I'm not going to fool with that man. Ranga Eyes Madar! She giggled. Ranga eyes to power a coup. Still laughing she ran out, heading for the maze.

Lighted candle in her hand, she slipped into her room. Humming a lilting tune, she lifted the bag from her shoulder and tossed it onto the bed, laughing at the dull chunk chunk of the coins as they bounced. She carried the candle to the lamp on the sewing table, lifted the chimney and lit the wick.

And heard the chunk-chunk again of the gold coins. She wheeled.

Shounach was sitting on the end of the bed emptying the loot bag onto the cover. He looked up and grinned. “Busy little thing, aren't you.”

“Fool. I near strangled on my heart.”

He came off the bed and walked over to her, took hold of the slave ring, slipping his fingers in between the ring and her neck. “You're in a rut, girl.”

She pulled away from him and sat down in her sewing chair, leaned back, trying to look relaxed, watching as he sauntered about the room. He glanced briefly out the window then sat down on the bed again.

“Not me.”

“What?” He lifted his legs onto the bed and stretched out, head resting on laced fingers.

“In a rut. Not me. Men. They seem to have only two ways for dealing with stray females. Rape them and slave them. Or both. Preferably both.”

He pushed up and looked about the small cozy room. “You seem to have landed soft enough this time.”

“Seen from the inside of this, it's not so soft.” She tapped the slave ring with her thumbnail. “How'd you get in here?”

“Flapped my wings and flew through the window.” His changeable eyes were bright green with amusement.

“Oddly enough, Juggler, I think I believe you. Why?” she caught the green glint again and hastily amended her question. “I thought you'd given up on me. Why bother coming here?”

“Why'd you leave Cern Vrestar without a word to me?”

“Tetaki told you.”

“I wondered if you'd panicked and run from me.”

“No.”

“Gleia, you told me how it is with you.”

Her hand came up and rubbed at the brand scars. “No,” she repeated. “I didn't want to go. But I pay my debts.”

“Companion,” he said softly. His eyes, cooled to a silver gray, held hers.

She shifted uneasily. “I.…” She couldn't finish.

“I thought that was a promise.” The silver eyes were like ice.

She swallowed, then grew angry. “What did you expect! Jevati needed me. You … Juggler … when did you ever need anyone?” She pushed at her hair, then pressed the heels of her hands against her burning eyes. “Madar! Shounach, it's been a long hard day for me. What do you want here?”

“To get you out. If you want. Do you?”

She stared at him. “No,” she said, startling him and startling herself. “Not yet.” Then she threw back her head and glared at him. “Do you think I can't get myself out whenever I want?”

“Still prickly.” He relaxed, a smile touching the corners of his wide mouth. “My turn. Why?”

Gleia jumped to her feet and went quickly to the window, thrusting her shoulders in the embrasure. She stared blindly out, struggling to bring into order some of the things that revolved in her head. The plot, Shounach, the Ayandar and his crazy ideas, Amrezeh and Lorenzai, and most of all, the Ranga Eyes. With a new resolution she jerked out again and turned to face him. He was stretched out flat once more, waiting, eyes on the ceiling. She crossed to the bed and settled herself beside him, one hand going out to rest on the hard muscles of his chest where the gaudy jacket fell open. “How long can you stay? I've got a story you might like to hear.”

Gleia woke feeling obscurely happy. She moved slightly, thinking to feel Shounach's body against hers; but she was alone in a narrow bed grown suddenly too large.

He was standing by the window, the faint starlight silvering the planes of his face, painting heavy black lines from nose to mouth. He looked remote and sad, lost in the contemplation of some old pain.

“Shounach?”

He turned quickly, stared at her, came to her. Bending down he drew fingertips gently along the side of her face. “Time I went, Companion. The Cat's eyes are high and Horli-rise is close.”

She caught his hand, held it between hers. “Shounach, why do you want the Ranga Eyes?”

He straightened, pulling his hand free. “I don't.”

“Why go after them, then?”

He was silent so long she thought he wasn't going to answer. At last he said quietly, “I'm hunting for the source.”

“And?”

He looked down at hands closed into fists. “I'll destroy it, I'll wipe all those.…” Wheeling, he crossed the room in two strides. Without stopping, he dived headfirst into the embrasure and disappeared.

Ignoring the chill of the air, Gleia scrambled from the bed and ran to the window. The fog had sunk to a woolly blanket over the water. By the time she located the Juggler's plummeting body, he was a dark blotch sinking into the haze. She stared and shook her head. “I don't believe it. I see it and I don't believe it.”

The morning dragged. She worked on the cafta, trying to restrain her impatience. The front panels were finished. She began work on the strip around the bottom. The avrishum caressed her fingers and took the thread with a hunger that continued to amaze her.

About mid-morning she tucked the needle into the design then sat stroking the material. “Stupid. I can't.…”

With a shaky grin, she carried the cafta to the large mirror. She shook it out and held it up in front of her. Giggling at her foolishness, she stripped off her slave dress and pulled the avrishum over her head. She smoothed it down, shivering with delight at the touch of the material on her skin. When the hem was in, the cafta would be too short for her. So would the sleeves. But the allowance was so generous the sleeves came to midknuckle and the bottom brushed the floor. She stripped the rag from her hair and shook soft curls loose about her face. Then she held out her arms and examined her image in the mirror.

She caught her breath. She looked taller. There was a copper sheen in her dark brown hair. The glow of the avrishum was reflected in her eyes, changing the brown to hazel. Even the brand scars on her face took on an exotic charm. She stroked her hands over her breasts, down her sides to the curve of her thighs, delighting in the way the material took the touch and transferred it to the skin beneath. Almost as if some other hands were touching her. She turned slowly, twisting her neck to keep her eyes on the mirror, enjoying her fleeting moment of beauty.

Reluctantly she pulled it off. After the avrishum, the coarse material of the black and white cafta felt doubly harsh on her skin. She settled back at the sewing table, moving her shoulders irritably before she took up the needle. When I go, I'm taking this. She measured the distance from the band of embroidery to the edge of the material. I can widen these bands when I let down the hem. She rubbed at her eyes and started work again.

At mid-afternoon, Gleia heard a commotion in the hall and wondered without much interest what was happening. Then she heard a flurry of tinkling laughter and slow-drawled words. A tall, thin blonde woman came through the door. She was elegant and angular with an arrogance so total that lesser mortals simply accepted it as they would accept a force of nature. Behind her were coarser copies circling around her. Hastily, Gleia rose to her feet.

The other women were tall and willowy with the same almost-innocent pride of caste. The resemblance between them was strong. Amrezeh came in behind them and stood to one side, stiff and awkward, a miniature version of the others. When her eyes flicked up, the hatred momentarily visible in her face was identification enough. The Ayandara. And the rest are Amrezeh's half-sisters and cousins. She looked quickly from Amrezeh to the others and back. A lifetime of scarring. Madar, I never thought I'd be glad my life was what it was.