The Desert Spear

“The drillmaster will break her arm if she does not submit,” Abban warned.

“Wonda,” Leesha said, and the girl finally had the sense to let out a cry.

Kaval released her and said something to Abban in a grudging tone.

“Perhaps I can make something of her, after all,” Abban translated. “Please leave us, so we may train without distraction.”

Leesha looked at Gared and Wonda, and nodded. “Why don’t you join Rojer and I for tea, Abban.”

“I would be honored,” Abban said, bowing.

“But first,” Leesha said, her voice hardening, “make it clear to Master Kaval that there will be the Core to pay if I come back to find warriors too injured to fight tonight.”

Abban’s wives tried to serve them, but Amanvah hissed and they backed off. She clapped her hands, and Sikvah scurried to prepare the tea. Leesha wrinkled her nose. The girl might be Jardir’s niece, but even she was little more than a slave.

“They’ve been doing this since yesterday,” Rojer said. Amanvah said something in Krasian, and Abban nodded to her.

“It is our place to service Rojer’s needs,” he translated. “We will suffer it from no other.”

“I could get used this,” Rojer said with a grin, stretching back and putting his hands behind his head.

“Just don’t get too used to it,” Leesha said. “It isn’t going to last.” She saw Amanvah’s eyes tighten at that, but the girl said nothing.

Sikvah returned soon after with the tea. She served silently, eyes down, and then retreated to where Amanvah stood by the wall. Leesha took a sip of her tea, swirled it around her mouth for a moment, and then spit it back into the cup.

“You added a pinch of blackleaf powder to the mix,” she said to Sikvah, putting the cup back on the table. “Clever. Most people wouldn’t have tasted it, and at that dosage, it would take weeks to kill me.”

Rojer gasped, and spit his tea all over himself. Leesha caught his cup as it fell, and ran a finger along the porcelain rim, tasting the residue. “Nothing for you to worry over, Rojer. Seems they’re not quite so eager to be rid of you.”

Abban carefully put his cup back on the table. Amanvah looked at him and said something in Krasian.

“Ah…” Abban said to Leesha. “You make a serious accusation. Do you wish me to translate?”

“By all means,” Leesha laughed, “though I’ve no doubt she understood every word.”

Abban spoke, and Amanvah shrieked, running over to Leesha and shouting at her.

“The dama’ting calls you a liar and a fool,” Abban supplied.

Leesha smiled and held up her cup. “Tell her to drink it, then.”

Amanvah’s eyes blazed as she snatched the cup from her without waiting for translation. The liquid was still hot, but she lifted her veil and quaffed it in one gulp. She glared at Leesha with a look of smug triumph, but Leesha only smiled.

“Tell her I know she can just take the antidote tonight,” she said, “but if it’s the same one we use in the North, it will give her bloody shits for a week.” The color drained from the tiny patch of skin visible around Amanvah’s eyes even before Abban finished translating.

“The next time you try something like this, I’ll tell your father,” Leesha said, “and if I know him at all, your shared blood won’t keep him from stripping that pretty white robe off your back and tanning your hide, if he doesn’t kill you outright.”

Amanvah glared at her, but Leesha simply waved a dismissal. “Leave us.”

Amanvah hissed something. “It is not your place to dismiss us,” Abban translated.

Leesha turned to Rojer, who looked like he was going to be sick. “Send your brides to their chambers, Rojer.”

“Go!” Rojer barked, waving his hand. He didn’t even make eye contact. Amanvah’s brows met in a harsh V, and she spat something in Krasian at Leesha before she stormed off with Sikvah on her heels. Leesha memorized the words, filing the curse for future reference.

Abban laughed. “It’s no wonder the Damajah fears you.”

“She doesn’t seem afraid now,” Leesha remarked. “Bold as brass, trying to kill me in broad day.”

“After Ahmann’s last decree, it is little surprise,” Abban said. “But take heart, they do you great honor. In Krasia, if no one is trying to kill you, it is because you are not worth killing.”

“Maybe it’s time to leave,” Rojer suggested, when Abban left. “If they’ll even let us.” He could not deny he had been tempted by Amanvah and Sikvah, but now all he could imagine was knives hidden under the soft silk pillows of their chambers.

“Ahmann would let us go if I asked him to,” Leesha said, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Leesha, they tried to kill you!” Rojer said.

“Inevera tried, and failed,” Leesha said. “Running off now would be just as good for her as if I’d died. I refuse to be driven off by that…that…”

“Witch?” Rojer supplied.

“Witch,” Leesha agreed. “She’s got too much power over Ahmann as it is. I’m not giving up his ear without a fight.”

“Are you sure it’s his ear you’re after?” Rojer asked. Leesha glared at him, but he met her gaze coolly. “I’m not blind, Leesha,” he said. “I see how you look at him. Not like a Krasian wife, perhaps, but not like a friend, either.”

“How I feel about him is irrelevant,” Leesha said. “I have no intention of becoming part of his harem. Did you know Kaji had a thousand wives?”

“Poor bastard,” Rojer agreed. “Reckon one is more than enough for most men to handle.”

Leesha snorted. “You’d do well to remember that yourself. Besides, Abban and Ahmann both know Arlen, and both claim to be his friend.”

“That’s not what he told us,” Rojer said. “About Jardir, anyway.”

“I know,” Leesha said. “And I want to learn the truth.”

“What about Amanvah and Sikvah?” Rojer asked. “Do we send them away?”

“So they can kill Sikvah for lying about her virginity and failing to kill me?” Leesha asked. “Not a chance. We took responsibility for her.”

“That was before she tried to kill you,” Rojer said.

“See the light, Rojer,” Leesha said. “If I told Wonda to put an arrow in Inevera’s eye, I have no doubt she would do it, but the crime would be mine. Better we have them here where we can watch them and perhaps learn something useful.”

It was deep in the night when Leesha awoke to the sound of shouting. There was a pounding at her door, and she lit a lamp and she pulled on a robe of Krasian silk that Jardir had sent to her. It was cool and deliciously smooth against her skin.

She opened her door to see Rojer standing there, looking haggard. “It’s Amanvah,” he said. “I can hear her wailing in her chambers, but Sikvah won’t even open the doors.”

“I knew it,” Leesha muttered, cinching her robe tighter and tying on her pocketed apron. “All right,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s go see to her.”