Saren smiled, dimples and all, and didn't even clutch her own hands as she said, "Dashti is my sister."
I started to gasp but choked on it.
"Now let's be clear," said Tegus. "Has she always been your sister?"
"No." Saren was smiling fit to split her face in half. Her voice clipped in such a way that I guessed she'd rehearsed this answer and was proud to be getting it right. "But she stayed with me when everyone else left. And . . . and we spent nearly three years locked in a tower, and when we came out, it was as though we were birth . . . uh, being born anew. All my real family was dead."
"How did they die?"
"Killed by Lord Khasar. And then Dashti faced him and helped av — aveg . . ."
"Avenge," said the khan.
"Avenge my family and defend my honor." She looked at me, hard, and then she straightened up, turned herself toward the chiefs, and said in as bold a voice as I've ever heard, "Hear me, chiefs, the last lady of Titor's Garden. Dashti never betrayed me, never abandoned me. She was as true a lady's maid as the Ancestors ever created."
There was power in her voice, and the chiefs took notice. How could they not? I've seen my lady begin to change since the cat purred in her lap, since she found use for her hands in the kitchen, since Khasar died, but never until that moment had she looked like I thought gentry should. Like anyone should. More than a thousand days we've been together, more than a thousand songs I've sung for her, and only now, I think, do I see Saren truly begin to heal.
"And since I have no more family," Saren said, "it's my right under the Ancestors to declare Dashti my sister and an honored daughter of Titor's Garden."
I think that's the part where I did gasp and gulp at the same time, which set me coughing.
"Oh, one more question for Shria," said the khan. "Please tell the chiefs what you told me before, what you found in Dashti's room after she fled this house, the day Lady Vachir's warriors tried to cut off her foot."
Shria cleared her throat. "Nothing, my lord. I mean, everything. That room was filled with silk and brocade deels, silver and porcelain bowls and cups, hair combs decorated with pearls. She left them all behind, only took her old clothing, the very rags she'd been wearing when she arrived." She looked at the chiefs. "Seemed to me that if she were lying about who she was for selfish reasons, she would've taken some of those nice things to sell out in the city."
"Thank you, Shria." He turned to the chiefs. "I submit to you Dashti, a mucker maid. She said she was gentry, but is that a crime for one who was named as a sister by the lady of Titor's Garden, or for one who earned the right to be considered a member of my own honored family? She proved herself loyal to her lady even unto risking her own life, an act that should far outweigh any impropriety. As well, she faced Khasar alone on the battlefield and, blessed by the Ancestors themselves, walked away from it, victorious. For my vote, one in the nine, I find her actions justified, and what some would call a crime, I declare a noble act of loyalty. How find you?"
There was a horrible silence as the chiefs thought, some whispering to one another, some shaking their heads. Khan Tegus clenched his jaw and his eyes were fearful. I knew it would take just four chiefs to find me guilty. It is assumed that the chief in the empty chair will always vote for death.
The oldest chief, the one who serves Evela, goddess of sunlight, turned to the four shamans and asked, "What say you, holy ones?"
The shaman who'd read the sheep bones and declared Khasar couldn't be defeated by strength looked at me when he spoke. "I haven't read the signs or submitted to a trance, but my instinct says the Ancestors love this girl."
"Hmm," said the chief. And again, the horrible silence, which was finally broken by Batu, who hit his palm against the table, making everyone jump.
"Come now, my friends. This isn't so difficult. Our khan has done a mightier job here than even we dull-brained lot needed. Who among you really thinks this girl committed a crime?"
Several chiefs shook their heads, a couple squirmed, but not one raised a fist to vote. The mood exhaled. I think I might've cried.
"Disgraceful," said Lady Vachir, as she and all her vulture maids marched out of the room. Winter or not, I doubt Lady Vachir will be staying long in Song for Evela.
As soon as she was gone, Khan Tegus leaned against the table and sighed for relief so loudly, several people laughed. I didn't. I still couldn't breathe right.
"Thank the Ancestors," he said. "And you as well, honored chiefs. Thank you."
Saren embraced me. She did it clumsily, placing one arm around my neck and resting her head on my shoulder. She whispered, "I was scared, Dashti. I was really scared. I thought you might die and I really, really didn't want you to."
"You did well," I whispered back. "You spoke up like a lady. You were so brave." It made my eyes sting to say it, I really did feel as proud as any mucker mama. "Thank you, my lady."
She looked at me now and said, "No more 'my lady,' Dashti. No more of that."
I couldn't respond. I didn't know what to say. No chance my mouth was going to let me call her sister. Not yet.
Batu was slapping Tegus on the back and laughing with relief. All the chiefs were standing, talking. A few were a bit disgruntled, but most seemed happy, excited even.
"And now at last," said the chief of light, "well have our khan's wedding. Lady Saren, may I be the first to congratulate you."
Tegus and Saren looked at each other. The whole room quieted. And I found reason to be glad I was still sitting.
Of course this is how it'll end, I told myself. This is how it should end. She's an honored lady. Isn't this what I've wanted for her? And I'll stay with her still and be her friend and coddle her babies, their babies, and keep my thoughts to myself and the pages of my book. It'll be all right. Saren will be the lady of Song for Evela and maybe I can write letters for her, advise her on things, be useful. It won't be so bad. It's an ending.
And though I reminded myself that I was just happy to be alive, some part of me wanted to shrink and die.
Tegus glanced at me once before saying, "Lady Saren, we are betrothed. Do you wish to wed me?"
Saren was watching me, and her eyes seemed troubled, but I can't be sure about that, because I felt like I was falling through the floor and seeing her from so far away.
"I'm not sure — ," she started before the chief of order rushed forward and shushed everyone.
"My lord, may I hastily remind you that if you and Lady Saren break your betrothal, Lady Vachir will have full claim on your hand."
"Thank you, honored chief," said Tegus. "But Saren and I spoke this morning, and we both felt — "
"Careful," said the town chief, her eyes on the door. "I wouldn't advise you to say anything."
Saren was still looking at me when she said, "Then I will say." She drew herself up tall. "Khan Tegus, I would rather not marry you. However . . . ," she said loudly, cutting through the outcries from the chiefs, "however, I retain my right to our betrothal, and I exact it for my sister, Dashti."
Batu chuckled. Why was he laughing? Was it a joke on me?
Tegus didn't seem surprised. He offered Saren his hands, palms down. She took them, and he kissed her forehead as he would a younger sister.
Then he smiled at me, and I knew it wasn't a joke. Tegus would never play a cruel trick on me, and he never smiles by accident. He means each one. Then he was beside me. Then he was on one knee and taking my hand. And it felt like the tower, after he'd given me My Lord the cat when he held my hand, and everything in the world was inside that touch. And only the Ancestors know why, but I stopped feeling dizzy and confused, and all I wanted to do was laugh. So I did. Tegus did too, a surprised laugh.
"All right, all right," he said, forcing a straight face. "Here I go." He took a deep breath. "Dashti of Titor's Garden, Dashti of the steppes, will you please be my betrothed and my bride and my wife in this realm and the next?"
At those words, all laughter left me. Now, I've trembl
ed before in steppes cold that's fit to freeze a yak. But when Tegus spoke those words, my arms took to shaking like I've never seen, and my legs knocking, my knees chattering, my whole body consumed to shivering so that I was afraid I couldn't keep my seat. I think I was crying too, and I wished I could leap up and dance, but it was all so much, my body couldn't hold it in. I shook and shook, my voice lost in the shudders.
So I looked to my lady. After all, I figured it was her turn to speak for me.
And Saren, understanding precisely what I wanted of her, faced Tegus and said, "Yes. She will."
Day 178
Today Tegus and I were wed, and Ancestors, but there was so much food! I wore a deel dyed as blue as the Eternal Sky, embroidered with yellow and gold thread, sunrise and sunset running up and down my sleeves. Qacha and Gal helped me dress and cooed over me as if I were the prettiest bride anyone had ever seen. Truth is, I felt it. I tried to wear a veil, but Tegus wouldn't have it.
"I want to see you as we take the vows. I want everyone to see you. My Dashti."
Then he kissed me on the mouth, though there were five chiefs in the room. Kissing like that in front of others may not be proper, but I felt certain that even the Ancestors didn't mind. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Can a person actually float away from happiness?
A thing of wonder happened as Tegus and I took the vows. It was as though I'd been standing on one side of the room and suddenly everything swooped around and changed places, though nothing actually moved. It sounds strange, I know, but I felt the whooshing feeling in my belly, as if I were riding a mare that leaped from standing right into a gallop. And what caused that feeling inside me was this thought — I'm not a mucker marrying a khan. I'm Dashti marrying Tegus. And that feels just right. How Mama would laugh.
At the feast, Saren showed me all the trays of food she helped prepare. She doesn't have to work in the kitchens anymore, she has her own room and two sweet-voiced maids to call on for anything. But she likes to work with food, she says, and she likes to arrange things and make them look pretty. She looked more than pretty in a peach silk deel tonight, her hair in eight braids twisted up. Two of Tegus's cousins held a mock sword battle with tiny fish bones to see who got to sit beside her. I guess I've never heard her giggle so much. It was pretty funny, actually, and they do seem like decent boys, but I told Tegus no one has permission to court her until I know every detail of his life and personality. Saren deserves a gentle man, someone sweet who makes her laugh, who doesn't make her feel dull-witted, and when his arms are around her, she knows she's in the safest place in all the realms. We'll find the right one. Tegus has thirty-seven cousins.
There's still more feasting to be done and dancing until the sun sets, and Tegus swore he could hold me as we danced so my injured leg would never touch the floor. I can hear the music just starting, but I hopped back here to our rooms so I could change my clothes.
During the tediously long ceremony, I was remembering when Tegus and I spoke through the tower and he'd said, "Would that I could take you out of here, and hold a feast and a dance, and see you bedecked in a silver deel." And there just happens to be a deel in the wardrobe made of silver silk. I can't wait to see his face when he sees me in it. I plan to laugh and laugh and dance and maybe I'll kiss him again, kiss my khan, right in front of the whole world.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is based on the fairy tale "Maid Maleen," as recorded by the Grimm brothers, though I took many liberties with the original in my quest to find Dashti's story. Although I invented the Eight Realms, the setting was inspired in part by medieval Mongolia. Jack Weatherford's Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World was a fascinating read and huge help. Special thanks to Burd Jadamba, Sarantuya Batbold, Ariunaa Buyantogtokh, and Bonnie Bryner for the many stories and facts about Mongolia.
In researching and writing this story, I was impressed by the lifesaving difference one animal can make in a family's survival. We've been able to donate some of the proceeds of this book to Heifer International, an organization that gives important domestic animals to families in third world countries. Check out www.heifer.org, where you can donate a goat or water buffalo or flock of geese to a family in need.
As always, much credit goes to Victoria Wells Arms and Dean "The Family Yak" Hale for being inspired editors and readers, and to Max, for making the whole world new.
Text copyright © 2007 by Shannon Hale
Illustrations copyright © 2007 by James Noel Smith
First published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children’s Books in 2007
E-book edition published in 2008
www.bloomsburykids.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced
in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children’s Books
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Hale, Shannon.
Book of a thousand days / by Shannon Hale ;
illustrations by James Noel Smith. —1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Dashti, sworn to obey her sixteen-year-old mistress, the Lady Saren, shares Saren’s years of punishment locked in a tower, then brings her safely to the lands of her true love, where both must hide who they are as they work as kitchen maids.
ISBN-13: 978-1-59990-051-3 • ISBN-10: 1-59990-051-3 (hardcover)
[1. Fantasy.] I. Smith, James Noel, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.H13824Boo 2007 [Fic]—dc22 2006036999
ISBN 978-1-59990-411-5 (e-book)
Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days
(Series: # )
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