“We have to get them out. Hurry! It’s almost dawn.” I yank on his arm but he doesn’t budge.
“What are you talking about?”
The captain of Clan Kusom emerges onto the lamplit porch, looking shaken by what he has seen inside. The first seeps of gray lighten the sky.
“My mother and sisters are being entombed as the oracle’s servants.”
His eyelids flicker as my words hit him, but he shakes his head. “A pregnant woman can never be entombed, because she might be bearing a son. Did you actually see or speak to them?”
“No, but I know it’s them.” My voice cracks.
“It can’t be, Doma Jessamy. It would be blasphemy. The priests would never allow it.”
My certainty wavers. Of course it isn’t them. Bettany would have fought and kicked the entire time. Amaya would have pleaded and cried, and Maraya would have argued. These attendants walked all that way on their own legs.
“You must go back to Garon Stable, Doma Jessamy. I expect you are out without permission, just as always.”
The words sting. I snap back, “What do my father’s rules matter now? He threw us away.”
The placid young man he used to be has vanished to become someone with an edge. “You are quite mistaken. General Esladas wishes to make sure the Doma has money enough to set up in whatever business she desires. He has arranged for her and your sisters to take lodging at the Least-Hill Inn in the West Harbor District until they can sort out their circumstances.”
My heart clenches, half in anguish and half in triumph. “Father did that?”
He goes on like he is explaining to a child. “The general sold his captain’s armor and gave the money to me to bring to Doma Kiya.”
“Even though Lord Gargaron promised to make provision for them?”
“A man of honor makes sure of his family without going through an intermediary.”
In excitement I grab for his hand, then remember I am pretending to be a servant. “Is my family at the inn?”
Behind us the priests begin the hymn of sealing. Five of them progress into the tomb, each carrying a large silver cup for the final toast.
“No. I am to take them there but I haven’t been able to find them. When I went to our compound I found it swept clean, the Doma and all her servants gone. A neighbor told me that Garon stewards sold the debt of the Commoner servants into bonded labor to pay for the expenses of closing down the house. So I came here to speak to Lord Ottonor’s stewards. They tell me they had nothing to do with General Esladas’s household once Garon Palace took it over. I don’t dare apply to Lord Gargaron’s stewards to find out what happened to the women, lest they suspect the general’s intent.”
The bricklayers move in to lay the first course within the doorway.
“We have to make sure they’re not in the tomb!”
He takes a firm hold on my wrist. “Doma Jessamy, be calm. Of course you are worried on their behalf. I am too. I will start looking for them tomorrow in the city and I promise you I will find them. Now I’ll escort you back to Garon Stable. You shouldn’t be out on your own.”
The bricklayers stand aside as five women step over the brickwork and hurry down the steps to Lord Ottonor’s household, which awaits the final blessing. The bricklayers begin the second course of the big mudbricks. They work with the speed of long practice.
Polodos walks away and I follow, because of course he will look for them tomorrow, and I will have some freedom to help him. While he strides swiftly on, I glance over my shoulder. Five more attendants duck through the doorway and descend the steps. Denya walks among them. The bricklayers begin the third course.
“No.” All my terror resurfaces. I halt.
“Doma?” He pauses about twenty strides ahead of me, turning to look back.
He won’t believe me.
“You’ve got to go ahead, Polodos. We can’t be seen together or word might get back to Lord Gargaron. Imagine what would happen to Father if we were discovered! Hurry! Lord Ottonor’s people might have seen us already.”
Flustered by the possibility that he may have put us in danger, he does not argue. “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”
“I have a Garon badge. I’ll get word to you at the inn.”
He hurries off into the gloom.
I take slow steps backward up the path. When the file of Kusom soldiers jostles past, cutting me off from Polodos’s sight, I hasten toward the tomb. The third group of attendants is already out, the women drenched in tears as they walk free of the stones and the stink.
