The Desert Spear

Everyone stood still for a moment, but Elona clapped her hands, startling them all. “You heard her, shoo! Not you, Rojer.” She grabbed his arm as he turned to go with the rest.

Only Leesha stood behind.

“You have no place here, daughter of Erny,” Inevera said. “You are not family to the groom or brides.”

“Oh, but I am, Damajah,” Leesha said. “If my mother stands for Rojer’s, then I, as her daughter, may take the place of his sister.” She smiled and leaned in close, lowering her voice. “The Evejah is quite clear on the matter,” she said smugly.

Inevera scowled and opened her mouth, but Rojer cut her off. “I want her to stay.” The words ended in a squeak as Inevera turned to him, but then a wide smile licked across her face, and she bowed. “As you wish.”

“Lock the doors, Leesha,” Elona ordered. “Can’t have Gared stumbling back in saying he forgot his axe.” Inevera laughed, and the sight of their joined amusement frightened Rojer more than anything. Elona seemed to know far more than Rojer about what was happening.

Leesha seemed equally disturbed, but whether it was from the laughter or the casual way Elona ordered her around, he couldn’t be sure. She turned and strode to the huge gilded doors, throwing the bar with a sound that made Rojer jump. He felt more like they were locking him in than Gared and the others out.

Inevera snapped her fingers, and the two girls straightened their backs, though they remained on their knees on the floor.

“Amanvah is dama’ting,” Inevera said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Healer, midwife, and chosen of Everam. She is young, but she has made her dice and passed every test.”

She looked at Leesha and smiled. “Perhaps she can treat those cuts on your face,” she said, indicating the red lines on Leesha’s cheek from where Inevera had scratched her.

Leesha smiled in return. “You seem to be blinking a great deal, Damajah. Do your eyes sting you? I could prepare a rinse, if you wish.”

Rojer looked back to Inevera, expecting a vicious response, but Inevera simply smiled and went on. “I myself have given my husband eight sons and three daughters. The women of my family are similarly fertile, and the bones say Amanvah will breed true.”

“Bones?” Leesha asked.

Inevera scowled. “That is no concern of yours, chin,” she snapped.

In an instant her smile was back in place. “What matters is that Amanvah will give you sons, son of Jessum. Sikvah’s mother was similarly fertile. She, too, will breed well for you.”

“Yes, but can they sing?” Rojer asked, hoping to deflect the discomfort he was feeling. It was the punch line of a favorite bawdy joke of Arrick’s, a tale of a man who could never be satisfied no matter how many women he bedded.

But Inevera only smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she said, snapping her fingers and barking an order to the girls in Krasian.

Amanvah cleared her throat and began to sing, her voice rich and pure. Rojer didn’t understand the words, and had never had a knack for singing himself, but after years of performing with Arrick, the greatest singer of his time, he knew well how to listen and judge it.

Amanvah’s voice put Arrick’s to shame. It lifted him like a great wind, stealing the footing from under him and sweeping him away on its notes.

But then a second wind came, wrapping itself around the other as Sikvah smoothly joined in. They found harmony instantly, and Rojer was stunned. Women or no, if they went to the Jongleurs’ Guild in Angiers, their careers would be assured.

Rojer said nothing, standing in silence while the two women sang. When Inevera finally ended their song with a wave, he felt like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut.

“Sikvah is also an accomplished cook,” Inevera said, “and both have been trained in the art of lovemaking, though they are unknown to man.”

“The…ah, art?” Rojer asked, feeling his face heat again.

Inevera laughed and snapped her fingers. Amanvah immediately rose, coming gracefully to her feet as she lifted a hand to unfasten her veil. The thin white silk drifted away like a wisp of smoke, revealing a face stunning in its beauty. Amanvah was her mother’s daughter.

Sikvah came up behind her, undoing some hidden fastening at her shoulders, and Amanvah’s entire robe seemed to simply dissolve, the silk running off her to whisper to the floor. She stood naked before him, and Rojer gaped.

Inevera circled a finger, and Amanvah obediently turned so Rojer could inspect her from every angle. Like her mother’s, Amanvah’s body was perfect, and Rojer began to fear even his motley pants were not loose enough. He wondered if he would be expected to undress as well, and have all the women see his arousal.

“Creator, is all this truly necessary?” Leesha asked.

“Be quiet,” Elona snapped. “Of course it is.”

Amanvah turned and unfastened Sikvah’s own silk robe, and it vanished like a shadow in the sun, becoming an inky pool at her feet. She was not as beautiful as Amanvah, perhaps, but apart from the other women in the room with him just then, Rojer had never seen her equal.

“You may verify their purity now,” Inevera said.

“I…ah.” Rojer looked at his hands, and then hid them in his pockets. “That won’t be necessary.”

Inevera laughed. “Your women,” she clarified, her smile mischievous. “Something must be saved for the wedding night, after all.” She winked at him, and Rojer felt dizzy.

Inevera turned to Elona. “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Ah…well…” Elona said, “my daughter is more qualified…”

Leesha snorted. “My mother wouldn’t know a hymen if she saw one,” she whispered to Rojer. “She was rid of hers before she had a good look at it.”

Elona caught the words and scowled, but she said nothing, glaring at Leesha.

“Oh, all right,” Leesha growled at last, “anything to get this business concluded.” She bent to pick up the girls’ robes, then took their arms and led them into a small curtained servant alcove to the side of the hall.

Leesha lowered the curtain, blocking them from view, and the girls obediently leaned over a small table, presenting themselves like brood mares. She had examined hundreds of young girls in her years as an Herb Gatherer, even the duchess of Angiers herself, but it was always for their health, not some honor ritual. Bruna had little patience for such nonsense, and her apprentice was no different.

But Leesha knew too how fragile their relationship with the Krasians was. She would win no allies by publicly spitting on their traditions.

Amanvah’s hymen was intact, but when Leesha reached for Sikvah, the girl flinched and gave a slight gasp. There was a sheen of sweat on her, and her olive skin seemed paler than before. She clenched tight when Leesha slipped a finger into her, but it was not enough. She wasn’t a virgin.

Leesha smirked. As barbaric as this ritual was, it had just given them reason to claim offense and refuse the girls before Rojer said something foolish. But then the girl looked back at her, and the fear in her eyes was a slap in the face. Amanvah caught the look and scowled.

“Get dressed,” Leesha told the girls, tossing them their robes. Sikvah quickly dressed and then moved to assist Amanvah, who glared at her as she fastened the dama’ting’s silk robe.