On Fire’s Wings (6 page)

“How is she doing?” he asked.

“She is a most impressive youngster. There will be jealousies among the women.”

Tahmu made an impatient gesture. “Quarrels among Yeshi's women are the least of my worries,” he said. “Kevla will hold her own among them, then? That is well. Has anyone…?” He could not find the words. Sahlik knew what he asked.

“The servants think I am growing deaf in my old age, and speak freely when my eyes are not upon them. I have not chosen to enlighten them.” Sahlik smiled fiercely. “Kevla has slept in a corner of the kitchen, seen by many. No one else has noticed the resemblance, although you and I see it strongly.”

Tahmu let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “Perhaps it is because we know the truth that we see the resemblance. Still, I would like to be present.”

Sahlik shook her head firmly. “No. You are not usually present to introduce a servant. You must do nothing out of the ordinary with this girl. Finding her and bringing her here was strange enough. Draw no more attention to her, and she will take care of herself.”

While Sahlik's words were full of wisdom, Tahmu had a father's heart. It had been difficult to refrain from stopping by to see Kevla. She was a pretty child, and her brave acceptance of her fate combined with her ability to continue to take delight in the world around her had already charmed him.

“I will be outside, then. If Yeshi sees her and knows…I want to be able to take care of Kevla.”

Sahlik stepped forward and briefly rested a hand on Tahmu's broad shoulder. No other servant would dare attempt such familiarity, but Sahlik's bond with this man went deep.

“Your kind heart does you credit. You have given the girl a new life, a better life. Be content with that.”

Tahmu's strong brown hand closed over the old woman's and squeezed it. He nodded, but she saw that his eyes were still haunted as he imagined what could have been.

 

Sahlik waited for the perfect opportunity. It came the day after she had spoken with Tahmu.

She had gone to see Maluuk, the healer for the Clan, in his small stone home near the great House. Maluuk was almost as old as Sahlik, and like her, was plagued with stiffness and pain in the joints. The discomfort was incentive for Maluuk to constantly work on perfecting a salve to ease such pain, and he and Sahlik often commiserated on the perils of growing old.

She sat now on a bench in his cool stone house, which was rich with the fragrance of herbs. They were everywhere—in jars on tables, hanging to dry from the ceiling, growing outside in the garden. Maluuk sorted and labeled jars while his apprentice Asha ground herbs and mixed the ointment.

“I have started adding this,” he said to Sahlik, extending a jar.

She took a cautious sniff, and then began coughing. Maluuk wheezed with laughter.

“I find…nothing amusing,” she managed to say, tears streaming from her burning eyes. She gulped from the waterskin he held out to her.

“I could not resist,” Maluuk said, chuckling. “I add the ground pepper to the salve, and it warms the joints. Trust me, it will feel good.”

Sahlik gave him a skeptical look and was about to make a sharp comment when a shrill cry interrupted her.

“Maluuk!” The voice belonged to Tiah, one of Yeshi's attendants. “Maluuk, come quickly, Ranna has been bitten!”

Faster than Sahlik would have given the old man credit for, Maluuk had leaped off his stool and raced out the door. Sahlik followed.

Tiah, a curvaceous woman about Yeshi's age, was gently leading Ranna up the steps toward the healer's house. The younger girl stumbled from time to time, as her eyes were fixed on her right hand, which swelled almost before Sahlik's eyes.

Maluuk met them halfway. His touch was always gentle, but Ranna cried out and tried to pull her hand away.

“What bit her?” he asked Tiah.

“I'm not sure,” Tiah replied. “A fly, a wasp….”

“Asha!” Maluuk called to his apprentice, “Insect bite. What do I use?”

“Garlic and then a white clay mud poultice,” the boy replied.

“Good. Come, Ranna, we will take care of you.”

Sahlik said, “I will pick up my ointment later.” Maluuk nodded, barely hearing her as he led the two distraught women into the hut.

Despite a particularly sore knee, Sahlik hastened down the steps toward the House with alacrity. The moment would pass soon, and she was determined to seize it.

 

Yeshi strolled in the garden alone, her long, well-manicured fingers reaching to touch a fragrant bloom now and then. Because of the House of Four Waters' claim to that most precious of fluids, she was able to enjoy growing things that would normally never be seen in the desert. There was insufficient water to grow the exotic fruits and vegetables for trade, but enough so that Yeshi's table always had something intriguing for her to nibble.

Both her women were gone, after Ranna was stupid enough to touch the flower that had the angry-looking insect hovering about it, and Yeshi was bored with no one to talk to. Ranna hadn't looked well, and she certainly hoped the girl was all right, but her first thought as Ranna's hand began to swell like a filling water bladder was that it would be some time before Ranna would give her one of her magnificent massages.

Yeshi liked the garden, as she liked all pretty things, but she had no real interest in learning much beyond which flower had which scent. Now she lounged on a long, intricately carved and padded bench in the small pavilion. The thin fabric walls billowed with a fragrant breeze, and she idly wondered what her husband planned for the evening. Her hand dropped to the beaten gold bowl beside her and she snared a lush fruit.

“Great
khashima,
forgive me for disturbing you,” came Sahlik's raspy voice.

Yeshi sighed in exasperation. A frown marred her pretty countenance. “Enter. What is it, Sahlik?”

“I saw that Ranna and Tiah were with the healer, great lady,” Sahlik said, stepping just inside the pavilion. “I thought you might be lonely.”

“Not lonely enough to want your company, old woman.”

Sahlik didn't bat an eye. “Of course not, great lady. I have brought someone more to your taste. Kevla, bow to your mistress.”

A girl stepped into the pavilion. She was about ten years old and very slender. She was dressed in a green and blue
rhia
with sleeveless arms. A matching belt encircled her tiny waist, and her hair was pulled back in a single braid that fell almost to the floor as she bowed.

“Your husband went to the market on a whim, great lady, and found this pretty bird for your amusement. Her name is Kevla.”

The girl remained bowing. Yeshi couldn't see her face. Intrigued, for it had been long since Tahmu had bothered to think of her when he traveled, even to the market, she propped herself up on an elbow.

“Come here, child,” she commanded in a kindly voice.

The girl obeyed at once, scurrying over to the bed and dropping to her knees beside it. The deference pleased Yeshi, who reached and tilted the child's face up to hers.

“Look at me.” The girl did so. Yeshi smiled at her. Somehow, the girl seemed familiar, but that was impossible. Yeshi seldom deigned to visit the marketplace, so it was unlikely she had seen the girl before. All the lower castes looked alike, she supposed.

“A pretty little bird indeed. I am bored, Kevla. What might you do to entertain me?”

“I have many skills and talents, all to be used as my mistress desires,” Kevla replied promptly. Her voice was pleasant. “It is my understanding that the great
khashima
enjoys massage and adorning her lovely self with henna.”

Yeshi thought of Ranna's swelling hand. It was a soothing, relaxing day and she had been counting on Ranna's massage to complete the drowsy pleasure of the afternoon. She rose and sinuously dropped her ornately embroidered
rhia
on the carpet.

“The oils are there,” she said, pointing to several small jars. She lay back down on the bed on her stomach, resting her head in her arms. “Let us find out if my little market bird can ease her mistress's aches and pains.”

Moving easily and confidently, the girl poured some scented oil in her hands, rubbed them together, and placed them on Yeshi's shoulders.

Such small hands to be so strong. Yeshi sighed happily, relaxing under Kevla's ministrations. She heard a rustling as Sahlik withdrew, then she closed her eyes and concentrated on what she excelled at—enjoying herself.

 

Tahmu stood behind a large stone statue in the gardens, careful that his shadow not fall upon the pavilion and reveal his presence. He could hear the sounds of voices, but was too far away to catch their words. There was no shout of indignation or the sound of a slap, however, so he dared to hope that all was well.

After a few moments, Sahlik emerged. Their eyes met. Sahlik smiled, almost imperceptibly, and Tahmu sagged against the statue.

Thank the Great Dragon. Yeshi, as they had counted on, was too obtuse to notice how much her new servant girl resembled her husband. He wiped his face with a hand that trembled.

Forgive me, Keishla, my love. But our child is well and safe now. Perhaps, indeed, you and I have been forgiven our transgressions.

As he returned to the duties that awaited him as
khashim
of the Clan of Four Waters, Tahmu felt that, after so many years, he had reconciled with his past.

He dared to hope the worst was over.

A
fter the massage, Yeshi and her new handmaiden retired to Yeshi's quarters.

“Here is the room you will share with Ranna, Tiah, and the other women who serve me,” Yeshi pointed out as they passed a large, airy room with a small table, a basin and pitcher of water, and dozens of soft-looking cushions scattered on the floor. Kevla tried not to reveal her shock at the opulence.

“And this is the room I share with my lord,” Yeshi said, as she opened the door onto a room three times as large as the handmaidens'. There were two or three lounging chairs, cushions on the floor, and glorious tapestries adorning the thick walls. Candles, lamps, and a small brazier sat ready to be lit at nightfall. The bed that Yeshi and Tahmu shared seemed to Kevla to be large enough to accommodate three or four quite easily. It was circular in shape, elevated off the floor by short, sturdy stone pillars.

“I am in need of refreshment,” Yeshi said. “Go to the kitchens and ask Sahlik to prepare a plate. Make sure there is something you enjoy on it, too, Kevla.”

Kevla floated down to the kitchens and repeated Yeshi's request to Sahlik. The head servant nodded, pleased.

“Don't forget to let her eat first,” she said as she arranged the tray. “And don't pay any attention when she tells you to have some
paraah,
it's her favorite fruit and she'll want to eat it all herself.”

Kevla nodded obediently. It was perhaps natural that Sahlik should worry, but there was no need. Kevla understood exactly how to handle someone like Yeshi.

After Kevla had lit the lamps, candles and brazier, she and the
khashima
lounged on embroidered pillows, nibbled the delicacies, and sipped a beverage that was both sweet and tangy and which made Kevla feel a bit light-headed. Yeshi was chatting and Kevla was listening as attentively as possible, giving the potency of the drink, when there came a knock on the door. Yeshi sighed.

“And we were having such a good time, just the two of us,” she said. In a harder voice, she called, “Who knocks?”

“Please, my lady, it is only us,” came a timid reply.

“Enter.” The door opened and two young women stood in the hall. The older one, whom Kevla suspected was in her late twenties, was tall and voluptuous, her dark blue
rhia
straining across her full breasts. She started when she saw Kevla and her eyes widened, then whatever emotion was in them was quickly hooded.

The younger was only a few years older than Kevla and shorter and slimmer than her companion. The most noticeable thing about her was her hand, which was swathed in bandages. Kevla felt a pang of sympathy and wondered what had happened.

“You are late,” said Yeshi.

Their eyes widened in apprehension. They exchanged glances. “Didn't Sahlik tell you?” asked the larger woman.

“About Ranna's hand? Yes, but there was no reason
you
needed to stay with her so long, Tiah.” Yeshi's gaze returned to Kevla, and she smiled affectionately. She was quite lovely when she smiled, thought Kevla.

“It was lucky that Kevla is as skilled as you are, Ranna, otherwise my back would have been protesting your absence. It looks as though it will be some time before you will be able to rub my feet.”

Ranna's dark face flushed. “Yes, my lady.”

Tiah glanced at Ranna and said, “Maluuk said that it was lucky she did not die.”

“Mmm,” said Yeshi. “Well, Ranna, you have one good hand. Go down to the kitchen and get me another skin of wine.”

Kevla knew she was a good observer, but even the greatest dullard would have had no trouble interpreting the looks both handmaidens shot her. She swallowed hard, and despite the strange sensation the wine was causing in her, wished she dared have another cup.

“Ranna,” said Yeshi, “I did not mean tomorrow.”

Ranna jumped slightly. “Of course not. Forgive me.” She reached with her good hand to take the wineskin and darted out the door. Tiah moved to settle behind Yeshi on the cushions and reached to touch her hair when Yeshi ducked her head.

“No. Kevla will brush my hair. Tiah, you will bathe and massage my feet.”

Kevla rose and did as she was commanded. Tiah, safely out of Yeshi's line of vision, mouthed the word
skuura,
female dog, and glared as she rose. A knot in her stomach, Kevla knelt behind Yeshi and began unbraiding the thick locks with nimble, gentle fingers.

Yeshi chatted on about nothing. Ranna returned with the wine. All three servants chimed in with appropriate noises from time to time. Tiah bathed Yeshi's feet in a ceramic bowl of water scented with flower petals, lavishing attention on them. She dried them carefully and massaged oil into them, her gaze darting up now and then to gauge her mistress's reaction.

Kevla dutifully brushed and oiled Yeshi's hair, and while pleased to hear such compliments as “Your touch is so gentle, child!” and “That feels good, Kevla,” wished silently that Yeshi would spare a kind word or two for Tiah's ministrations as well.

At last it was time to ready the bed. She thought, as she gingerly touched it, that the mattress made the pillows she had sat upon feel hard as old rugs. Over it were intricately woven and embroidered blankets and silks. The sheets felt like water in her hands.

“Kevla!” The sharp voice of Tiah startled her and she jumped. “Don't touch the
khashima's
things like that!”

Kevla gulped. She had been certain that she would know how to handle Yeshi, but already, on the first day, she was going to incur the woman's famous wrath….

To her ineffable relief, Yeshi only laughed. “Poor child, you've probably never seen anything as lovely, have you?”

Not daring to speak, Kevla shook her head, keeping her eyes averted. Yeshi's long, cool fingers brushed her chin, tilting Kevla's face up.

“My lord is going to be away for a while, visiting another clan. The bed is large enough for about fifty such as you. Stay with me tonight; keep me company while I miss my husband. It will be pleasant to have someone to whisper secrets to.”

Kevla dared not look at Tiah as the other young women bowed and left. Yeshi, now clad in a diaphanous garment that covered her from neck to toe, crawled into the bed and yawned. Kevla went about the room, extinguishing the oil lamps and candles, then, her heart racing, climbed into the bed. The only light came from the red glow of the brazier's coals.

She almost uttered a cry as she slipped beneath the sheets. So soft, so smooth….surely Tahmu and Yeshi slept deeply and dreamed sweet dreams.

“I imagine you are Bai-sha,” said Yeshi, breaking into her reverie. Kevla went cold. “That is unimportant to me. You are a sweet girl and you handle yourself well. Did you know I have a son?”

“Of course,” Kevla replied. “He is the young master, the
khashimu
Jashemi-kha-Tahmu.”

“That's right,” Yeshi said. “He's been away for almost a year now, learning from his uncle. That's one of our traditions, Kevla; to send the heir to live with his closest male relative. He'll leave me again for another year when he's married. I miss him. I adore my son, but I often think how sweet it would have been had I borne a daughter.”

Tentatively, Kevla said, “My lady is still young and beautiful. Perhaps the Dragon will grant her a daughter soon.”

Yeshi chuckled, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in her voice. “You are still a child, and there are things you don't yet understand.”

In the darkness, Kevla grinned. There wasn't much about male and female coupling she didn't understand, but she wasn't about to tell Yeshi that.

“My son is a little younger than you,” Yeshi went on. Kevla wondered why the
khashima
was speaking so freely. Perhaps it was the shield of darkness. Perhaps it was that Kevla was such a nobody. Yeshi turned over, and the silk sheets rustled. “I am glad Tahmu brought you to me. Tomorrow will be very hot. Would you like to spend all day in the caverns?”

“It if please my lady, I would enjoy that very much.”

“It will be so, then. Good night, Kevla.”

“Good night, my lady. Dragon send you sweet dreams.”

But Kevla did not dream at all that night. She was asleep within minutes. In the morning, she awoke before dawn and slid out as silently as possible.

She closed the door carefully, turned, and gasped. Tiah and Ranna stood in the hall. Even the slim, injured Ranna scowled, and Tiah loomed over Kevla like a
kuli.
Before Kevla could react, Tiah spat in her face.

“Bai-sha,”
Tiah snarled in a hoarse whisper. “You'd better watch yourself.”

“I can't believe you took advantage of my injury,” said Ranna, sounding more hurt than angry.

Kevla wiped the spittle from her face. “I—” she began, keeping her voice soft. But they didn't let her finish.

“You are just one of many. You may be Yeshi's favorite today, but that doesn't mean you'll stay that way,” said Tiah.

“Tiah, Ranna,” Kevla whispered imploringly, holding out a hand to each one of them, “Yeshi is a great lady and has many needs. Surely, she requires all of us to tend her.”

“Yeshi is a spoiled
skuura,
” said Ranna in a low voice, “and we were doing fine until you came along.”

Kevla's eyes filled with tears. “I only—” Footsteps coming down the hall gave her an excellent excuse to duck past the two women and scurry to the kitchen.

 

It was an inauspicious start to a day which only got worse. Yeshi, as Kevla would soon learn, often changed her mind. By the time she had risen and been bathed and dressed, the great lady had decided not to spend the day in the caverns after all. She was going to visit the market, and Kevla was to prepare a traveling basket of food and wine and accompany her. Kevla nodded and kept her face impassive. But she could not hide her feelings from Sahlik.

As Sahlik helped Kevla prepare a basket, she said in a low voice, “It will not be as hard as you think, child. You will be wearing the veil, so no one will recognize you. Don't look anyone full in the face and all should be well.”

“I don't want to go back,” Kevla whispered. “I don't know why Yeshi wants me to.”

“She wants you to see what change can be wrought in a day's fortune,” Sahlik said. “Be quiet and grateful and in all likelihood, she will never take you back to the market again. It's not her favorite pastime.” Sahlik hesitated, then said, “Do not speak to your mother if you see her.”

Kevla shook her head. The lump in her throat forbade speech. Miserable and apprehensive, she covered the basket and went to join the other handmaidens.

She and Tiah dressed in clean
rhias.
Ranna would not be accompanying them; riding would take two hands and hers was far from healed. Kevla watched closely as Tiah put on her veil and did a fair job of imitating her, drawing the thin yellow fabric over her head, around the lower part of her face and tucking it in. By the contemptuous flash of Tiah's eyes, Kevla had not quite gotten it right. She hoped Yeshi would not notice.

But she could not hide her inexperience with riding when she and Tiah went into the courtyard and two sand-colored mares were brought out for them. With the help of a stable boy, Tiah climbed easily into the saddle. Kevla stared at her own mare.

“What's the matter?” Tiah challenged. “Yeshi is already in her litter waiting for us.”

“I cannot ride,” Kevla said, trying hard not to cry.

“Well then, too bad for you,” said Tiah. “Yeshi and I will go alone to the market.” She pulled her horse's head around and rode out of the courtyard to where Yeshi was waiting.

Kevla lowered her head and trudged back to the House. She was not sorry to avoid going to the market, but feared that her inexperience might count against her. Tiah and Ranna had made it plain this morning that they regarded her as competition for Yeshi's affections. Now, Tiah would have Yeshi's ear all day. It would be an excellent opportunity to turn her mistress's mind against her new handmaiden. Kevla did not think the
khashima
would make a great attempt to find the truth if malicious gossip started spreading. She had reached the top of the stairs when she heard a male voice calling her by name. Surprised, Kevla turned to see a stable boy running across the courtyard to her.

“The
khashima
has sent me for you,” he said, gasping for breath. “She says if you cannot ride a horse, you will be taught, and until you learn, you may ride in the litter with her.”

 

Yeshi's litter was, not surprisingly, a glorious thing. It was a padded armchair that could seat two people comfortably, carried by twelve powerfully built servants. There was room to stretch one's legs, and a canopy shaded the two women from the hot sun. Despite the physical comfort, Kevla knew that if Tiah knew how miserable she was, the older girl would be delighted. She would much rather be on a horse, equal to the other handmaiden, than feel the hot jealousy emanating from Tiah.