Aquirre, Ann Stone Ma

Odnośniki

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

and the veils in gauzy green, providing an almost sultry frame
for her face. Muir donned them reluctantly; they had taken all
her own things, probably to be burned. They would not want
anyone to know she had come from Ballendin barefoot and
wearing a slave's tunic and a filthy djellabah.
Muir knew, as she stared at the stranger in the mirror, that
she had never looked more beautiful. The wide sleeves hid
her ugly arm and all her scars; only her agate eyes peered
back at her, anxious and unaltered. Matching vert slippers
seemingly spun of silk and wishes had golden laces and
curled toes. They were no more comfortable than they
looked.
She had not seen Rodhlann since marching triumphantly
up the pillaged street that Z'ev called the Path of Hope.
Through the bars of her gilded cage, the sky pulsed with low,
gray clouds, darkly veined with an unwholesome thread of
purple, the suggestion of a rotten bruise going to the very
heart of the fruit. Slowly, Behrid made way for Haar, as Raton
possessed only two seasons hot and cold.
On the mosaic wall, quatrefoil windows allowed her
glimpses of the courtyard. Perhaps nurtured by the sha'al-
izzat's magicians, the garden was unseasonably lush. Muir's
gaze lingered on the walled oasis with the cobalt-inlaid
fountain as its heart, whispering water giving back jade
reflections. The bronze statues glimmered in the twilight,
adorned with verdigris. It was so lovely that she ached,
knowing that the maids had quietly turned the bolt.
They did not come for her until dark had fully fallen.
429
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
A silent maid escorted her to the banquet hall, where Z'ev
awaited her, along with several strangers, Harb, and an
immaculately garbed Qutuz. Finery sat strangely on the
Tortoise, but he looked delighted, full of jollity. When she
arrived, Z'ev took her hands in a manner she could only
describe as proprietary. It was not until she was seated on
her cushion at the long, low table that she realized Rodhlann
was missing.
Muir seethed while they ate. The meal was delicious, but it
sat heavily in her stomach. She had never eaten such rich
fare roast emu, saffron rice, wine-spiced figs, and baked
vegetables, finished with strong marjoram coffee and honey-
almond cakes. Conversation flowed around her; she did not
participate, although she nodded at the right moments.
Doubtless, Z'ev's guests formed the opinion that she was
sweet-tempered and demure, when the truth was, she was
too angry to trust her voice.
When everyone had finally gone, she asked the ksathra
tightly, Where is Rodhlann?
He chose to dine in his room. Z'ev smiled down at her.
Perhaps he felt uncomfortable about sharing a table with so
many strangers. Who can fathom the mind of an afreet?
I can.
As Zillah had predicted, she began to feel anxious about
their separation, consumed by a gnawing need to see him.
May I visit him?
I know you are weary. He replied as if she had not
spoken. I trust your quarters are satisfactory. Please let me
430
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
know if you need anything that has not been provided for
you.
Rodhlann. And freedom.
At a gesture from Z'ev, one of the maids hurried over,
ostensibly to show Muir back to her quarters, but she knew
the implication was more ominous. Though she was not
shackled, she was a prisoner. The ksathra had made up his
mind to use her, and none of her desires would stand in his
way. He might be a good man she did not know him well
enough to say but he was not a flexible one.
Fear gnawed at her. What had they done with Rodhlann?
Certainly she would know if any permanent harm had befallen
him, but lesser injury More likely, they thought to weaken
her attachment to him via separation. She could not let that
happen, could not. Their bond was the one true thing that
remained to her. They had burned her things, all but the
tapestry for which she had wrestled a disapproving maid, and
they would erase her history, building her anew out of
whispers and innuendoes. No outright lies would be spoken;
she respected Z'ev's finesse, but others would believe she
was royalty, Aban's daughter instead of his last house slave.
No other choice presented itself, so she followed the slim
woman back through cloying opulence to her assigned
quarters. A bronze lamp had been lit, beautifully chased with
silver and gold, etched like the bedposts. On the low table
beside it, the maid left a silver ewer full of cool water and a
matching chalice in case she grew thirsty. Once she had been
incarcerated for the night, Muir yanked off her silk slippers;
her toes were red where they had pinched. The hated
431
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
headdress was next to go, and she hurled it away in
exasperation.
You did not enjoy your evening? Rodhlann spoke from
the veiled shadows, startling her.
She crossed the room in an instant, found him reclining on
the silk coverlet, arms crossed behind his head. Muir wanted
to seize him, hold him, but such gestures had never been
easy between them, less when she needed it so much. Her
breath hitched as she ran her eyes over the pearly pallor of
his face. He too had bathed and was wearing traditional
Inayan robes, no more out of place on him than the Bedu
sherwal trousers.
It was awful, she said simply. I ... worried about you.
He gave her a lazy smile, propping himself up on an elbow.
They will not harm me, little maid, but... His shoulders lifted
in a shrug. I do not care to advance their cause. I will not be
used as an accessory.
Z'ev had said that the presence of an afreet as her
companion would add to Muir's consequence. Of course
Rodhlann had declined to be so used; his pride would not
stand it, though he lacked the power to punish their captives
for the presumption. His impotence must burn now more than
ever.
We must find a way to leave this place, she told him
quietly. The mattress dipped with her weight, shifting him
toward her. But I know not how we shall manage it. The
longer we stay, the more sure I am that Z'ev will not allow
me to keep my promise to you.
432
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
He does not care about your honor. He sat up, subtly
putting distance between them until his back was to the wall.
That one cares for Inay as another might a wife or child. The
city is his jewel, one he almost lost, and thus doubly precious.
He will sacrifice you to it.
I know. She closed her eyes. There was no respite from
the guilt, though; Z'ev had awakened Ballendin's restless
dead, the loss echoing in her heart and mind even she saw
their accusing eyes. Rodhlann had persuaded her to lay the
burden down, but the ksathra made her take it up again. But
how can we get away? I am watched all the time ... and the
journey will take so long. He would hunt us all the way to
Eristorne.
Muir listened to his breathing, his silence, before he
reached for her, as she had wanted but did not know how to
seek. Against her hair, Rodhlann spoke in tones of shadowed
velvet and moonlight. The dream lines would take us there,
if I possessed the means to open the way. Words salted with
bitterness.
In that moment, drowning in the moonbeam of his voice, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

angamoss.xlx.pl