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And I was still in the middle of it. A tall warrior staggered back ward, knocking me half off my feet. Someone else lurched into my left side, and . . . how it happened, I cannot say. Only that I fetched up hard against Joscelin, who had somehow shaken his attackers and regained his footing.
I knew. Even before I saw, I knew. His hands closed on my upper arms, and I lifted my gaze to his face. Like the Carthaginian looking at the sky, I could have wept.
"Phèdre. " He spoke quick and low in D'Angeline, his expression betraying nothing. "If I thought I could throw before the Skotophagotis killed me, I would perform the terminus. I don't. Blessed Elua had best make his will known fast, before I go mad here. I don't know how long I can endure this. "
Elua's will. It was then that the first terrible inkling of suspicion dawned.
"I need time," I whispered. "I think. . . Please. A little while longer. "
Joscelin said nothing, only released me and bowed, looking past me to the Mahrkagir. The fighting had settled. One man dead, and another dying; half a dozen others lay groaning. The Mahrkagir was smiling. "I changed my mind," he said calmly, taking my hand and leading me back to the head table. "Gashtaham, that was a foolish idea. "
Like Joscelin, the priest only made a bow in reply, the girdle of finger-bones rattling at his waist. He had killed his own father and eaten his heart, and there was no annoyance at the Mahrkagir's rebuke in his expression, only the guarded satisfaction of a man who has confirmed a long-held theory. It made my skin crawl to see it, so I looked away. At the far end of the opposite bench, Tahmuras was wiping blood and bits of hair and flesh from his spiked mace. He gave me a long, mea suring gaze, and there was hatred in his eyes.
He knew, too.
And he did not welcome the news.
That night, the Mahrkagir was zealous in his attentions and there was something new in his manner, heated and triumphant. With his hands and teeth, he tore at my flesh, leaving his mark on my skin. It was a conquest, not only of me, but of all others who sought to possess me, and his victory was in my yielding. I knew it well, for many of my patrons have been possessive. Whether he knew to name it or not— and I do not think he did—the Mahrkagir of Drujan had discovered the hot pleasures of jealousy that night.
It was what Gashtaham had sought to confirm.
Afterward, in the zenana, I asked Rushad how the vahmyâcam was made.
"As for that, lady, I cannot say. Only that the Aka-Magus-in- training makes a dedication of his offering, and they are linked in the sight of Angra Mainyu. After . . . " He hesitated. "It is done alone, in darkness. I have heard it must be done with bare hands, or with an iron knife. And I have heard the victim must be throttled with the girdle of a living Magus. I do not know. "
"But the others, the other ka-Magi, are not present?"
"For the dedication. For the offering . . . " He shook his head. "No. The pact is made alone. No aid may be given, no support. Only death and darkness. "
I nodded. "Thank you, Rushad. "
Outside Daršanga, spring was coming to Drujan. It was not often that Nariman the Chief Eunuch was absent from the zenana long enough for anyone to venture into the garden, but there were times. I went, when I could, and gauged the rising warmth in the air, the moisture of spring winds, wondering when the northern passes would thaw. And I gauged, too, the height of the garden walls. It was useless as a means of escape, leading only to the pitched roofs of the inner palace. A man with a grappling hook and a rope might be able to scale them, though. I wondered if Joscelin would dare.
Probably.
But I didn't think it was worth the risk.
It would have been a simple enough matter to get a message to him, if there was anyone summoned to the festal hall whom I dared trust. There wasn't, not yet. So I waited, living out endless days in my private hell. Drucilla tended my injuries without comment. Time and again, my flesh healed cleanly, only to be torn and ravaged anew. I grew inured to the pain. Not the nights of iron and blood—no, never that—but the inevitable dull aftermath. Ignoring it, I walked the length and breadth of the zenana, considering escape routes.
Unfortunately, there weren't any.
"You're mad," Drucilla said. "You'll get us all killed!"
"For what? Walking and thinking?" I cocked my head at her. "Drucilla, has anyone ever tried to kill the Mahrkagir?"
"What?" Her face went pale. "You are mad. "
"They search us for weapons. Someone must have tried. "
"Someone did," she said grimly. "It did not end well. Her punish ment . . . well, there may be worse ways to die, but I cannot think of any. Ask someone else, if you want to know it; I do not care to re member. His lordship may be insane, Phèdre, but he's a trained warrior, and not careless with his life when his priests are not there to protect him. "
Unless it was someone he trusted, I thought; someone he loved.
And the surety of it gripped me like a storm, until I had to bow my head in horror and weep, mumbling for Drucilla to leave me, that I needed to lie still against the pain. I lay curled on my bed, staring at the jade dog figurine on my shelf. Once upon a time, the Mahrkagir had been a boy with a dog. I did not know if I could do it. Blessed Elua, I prayed, is this your will? Might even he not be redeemed through love?
I already knew the answer. The boy with the dog had grown into a monster. And as much as it might pain him, as much as his black, black eyes might grow lustrous with tears, he would take the gift of love and offer it on the altar of Angra Mainyu. He would make me beg for death and grant it as a final, loving boon, whispering endearments as he ate my heart.
Unless I killed him first.
It terrified me even to think it, so I thought of other things instead, such as how we were to escape if I did it. And to that, I had no answer. If what Rushad had told me was true, the power of the Skotophagoti, the ka-Magi, flowed through the Mahrkagir. Their powers would be broken with his death. Well and good; that left only the whole of the Drujani army.
If we could take Daršanga, I thought, we could hold it, at least for a while. Long enough, mayhap, to commandeer a ship and escape along the coast of the Sea of Khaspar to Khebbel-im-Akkad—or, at the least, to send word via the sea route. I did not doubt that the Lugal Sinaddan would descend upon Drujan in all haste if he knew. I could only pray it did not result in a second bloodbath like the one that had begotten the Mahrkagir.
Taking Daršanga was the only problem.
That, and committing murder.
I sat upon my carpet and watched the zenana on an afternoon when Nariman was absent, gauging its mood. They worked together to enjoy the garden, posting watchers, setting up a warning system. Not all, of course—many preferred the escape of opium dreams—but enough. I watched the blue smoke curling from an Ephesian water-pipe, and wondered how much opium was present in the zenana, and how much it would take to drug the garrison. I remembered the pellet Rushad had offered me, and wondered if it could be placed in the food, or whether it would dissolve in drink. Kumis, I thought, would mask the taste of anything.
"Watching and listening," Kaneka called from her couch. "Always watching and listening. You are not practicing your Jeb'ez, little one, though I gave you permission. "
"Yequit'a, Fedabin. " I bowed from the waist. "I was thinking of somewhat else. "
"Your storm-lord?" She laughed, the others laughing with her.
"No, Fedabin Kaneka. " On a whim, or something like it, I told the truth. "I was wondering whether or not opium dissolves in liquid. "
Kaneka's brows rose. "Why such a thing? Will no one share a pipe with the Mahrkagir's favorite? Well, then, beg him for one, or eat it in pellets, if you will. "
"It is a thing I wonder, that is all. "
It bothered her; I saw the thoughts flicker behind her frown. "No. It must be brewed in water, to be drunk. The resin of the poppy must boil a long time. "
&nbs
p; "Ah," I said. "Thank you, Fedabin. "
"Come here. " Her tone was peremptory. I rose and went to kneel on the Jebeans' carpet. Kaneka stared at me with hooded eyes. "You did that," she said, pointing to the garden door, the posted sentries. "I saw. I watched it happen. The others, they forget. I don't. Why?"
"For Imri," I said. "I wanted him to see the sky. "
"That boy. " Her voice deepened. "He does not even like you. "
It was true enough. Having dared two steps forward, coming to see me, Imriel had taken a large step in retreat, unwilling to accept the truth of what I had told him. I shrugged. "It does not matter. "
"It matters in here," said Achara, one of the Nubians.
"He is only a child," I said, thinking of Melisande's words. Let him live to hate me, then; only let him live.
Kaneka laughed, harsh and dark. "There are no children here," she said. "Whose wine were you thinking to lace with opium, little one? Lord Death's?"
"No. " I smiled at her. "There is a great deal of opium in the zenana, Fedabin Kaneka; enough to dull the wits of the entire garrison of Dar?anga for a single night. I was only thinking, no more. "
Something behind Kaneka's eyes closed, rendering her face mask-like. She looked at me without speaking for a long time. "Dangerous thoughts," she said at length. "And dangerous words. "
"And even more dangerous deeds," I said softly. "Yes, Fedabin.
That is why I say they are only thoughts and no more. It would en danger the entire zenana to speak them openly, would it not? And to render them deeds . . . " I shrugged. "Of a surety, some of us would die. All, if we failed. "
Her hand flashed out to grab a fistful of my hair, yanking my head forward as she leaned down from the couch until our faces were mere inches apart. I could see the red veins lacing the whites of her eyes. "I will not die for your dangerous thoughts, little one, do you hear?" she said, her breath hot against my face. I could smell the sharp sweat of fear on her. "No one here will! Hope kills in this place, and betrayal kills quicker. Only those of us who have learned to live with Death, to keep him at bay one day at a time, endure. Better for us all if you keep your mouth silent on these thoughts!"