Desert Rising (7 page)

Kadar grinned at Ava and mussed her hair. She ducked away and swatted his hand. Farrah gave him a shy smile before she walked out of the stables, her sister chattering beside her.

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
Kadar listened as his aunt gave Farrah last-­minute instructions. He paced most of the day, his mind only half on his uncle's daily lecture, listening for Farrah's voice. Finally, shortly before last meal, she appeared. He had to wait until the dishes were cleared before he could slip out to the stables, where he hoped she would be waiting for him.

Farrah arrived shortly after he did, and he followed her up a ladder to the hayloft.

He sat beside her and waited impatiently for her to begin.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well, I think I found out quite a bit although not all of it is reliable,” she admitted.

Kadar nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“It sounds as though all the new class has some sort of thing at the Temple of the One when they first awaken because breakfast is an hour after dawn for them.”

Kadar grinned. Sulis would hate that. They had a tough time rousing her in the mornings when they were traveling with the caravan, and she more often took night watches, preferring the darkness to dawn.

“The servants like your sister because she treats them like equals, but the other students seem to be on their guard because she isn't allowed to take meals with them until she passes her deportment training, and she doesn't have many friends just yet. The mothers are horrified that she can't sew and want the wardrobe mistress to give her lessons.”

“Good luck with that,” Kadar muttered. “I was there when my mother and my grandmother tried. It isn't worth the fight.”

Farrah's eyes danced with amusement. “Sulis tested out of math, and reading, which is unusual enough for a girl that the teachers were gossiping about it—­but they're giving her remedial classes in scriptures and prayers and she has a personal teacher in deportment. She's also in a geography class with the rest of her pledge mates. But the servants haven't cleaned any breeches yet, which she would wear if she'd been riding.”

“Which means what in terms of my ability to meet with her?” Kadar asked.

“She hasn't been assigned a riding or weapons time. But all of her classes meet in the afternoon, so . . .”

“So when she does travel the west road, it will be in the morning, but after breakfast.” Kadar laughed in relief and hugged Farrah to him. “Farrah, that's wonderful!”

She laughed up at him from the circle of his arms, and without thinking, he bent down and kissed her. Rather than its being the passive, gentle kiss he intended, she lifted her chin and met his lips with her own soft, full ones.

His interests quickly turned from platonic to passionate, and he kissed her again, more deeply as he became aware of her body held so closely to his. His kisses moved down toward her neck, and he felt her lips on his ear, nibbling. His hand moved forward under her rough brown cloak until it reached the soft curve of her hip.

Uncle Tarik's voice sounded below them in the stables, and Kadar drew back, turning to make certain his uncle wasn't climbing the ladder. Uncle Tarik seemed to be talking to a stable hand.

Kadar let out a sigh of relief and turned back to Farrah, only to see her disappearing silently down a ladder on the far side of the loft.

Kadar groaned, then grinned to himself, feeling that he'd learned a lot more this evening than he'd expected.

 

Chapter 5

S
ULIS'S HEAD FELL
forward, and she forced herself awake for the afternoon class, bracing against the teacher's monotonous drone. She was used to a daily nap, as the afternoon desert heat often made physical labor impossible. Kadar had always teased her mercilessly about her afternoon slumber, but that had not broken her of the habit. It seemed the Temple would. She was also used to being active and the past two months of only walking from dorm to classroom made her feel dull and sleepy all the time.

She brought back her drifting attention. The tall, thin teacher, dressed in the blue robes of Parasu, was pointing to a map of the Northern Territory. He was focusing on the geography of Trebue, a city to the north of Illian, beside Lake Denia.

“Trebue is an easy three days' journey from here,” Scholar Jantis explained to the class. “It has a population very much like our own in the capital city.”

Sulis tuned him out again, staring out the window at the sunny courtyard behind the classrooms and dormitories of Parasu, where most of their lessons were held. It was obvious that the man had never been to Trebue or traveled the route he described. It was a straight, easy route to take a mule train on, but the journey was rife with bandits who could melt in and out of the dense forest surrounding the road. Only the very stupid or poor traveled the road to Trebue alone.

“Sulis,” Scholar Jantis said irritably, bringing her attention back to the class. “Since you obviously know everything about Trebue already, please tell the rest of the class what it is you find so amusing.”

Sulis glanced around to find her nine classmates staring at her. One girl, Joaquil, giggled at what she thought was Sulis's impending disgrace. The rest seemed to reserve judgment, having learned over the past week just how unpredictable Sulis could be.

“Well, Scholar Jantis, Trebue produces the best lamp oil in the Northern Territory. Far better than the smelly fish oil that was used in the days of the Great War. But Trebue is the base for at least three groups of bandits who waylay unarmed and unwary travelers. Furthermore, Trebue's second great trade is in men-­at-­arms, who travel with caravans to keep them safe on the main route.” Sulis smiled at the irony. “What might be noticed by the travelers who didn't hire protection at Trebue for their caravans is that the bandit now robbing them has the same sword and voice as the sword-­for-­hire they didn't pay.”

Sulis smiled to herself as she sat back and let her classmates take in what she'd said. They were all city dwellers; most had never been beyond the boundaries of Illian nor experienced cultures that were not like theirs. Scholar Jantis was also studying his classroom of students with a calculating air. Instead of the annoyance she'd incited in her housemother and orientation leader, he exhibited a cool kind of approval, which raised him a notch in her esteem.

A hand rose in front of Sulis, from a young man about her age named Jonas. He was a bookish young man who seemed to always give a thoughtful opinion.

“Scholar, is this true?” he asked, obviously troubled.

“We've had reports of such behavior,” Scholar Jantis answered levelly.

“But why doesn't the Temple put a stop to it?” Jonas asked. “Aren't the soldiers of Voras caretakers of the ­people? Does Parasu not give justice?”

Sulis snorted loudly. “Whose justice would you use?” she asked, steepling her fingers in front of her. “The laws of Trebue aren't those of Illian. And besides—­Trebue is the richest city in the Territory. The rich tithes the bandits give to Parasu and the men-­at-­arms give to Voras boost the earnings of the Temple. Why mess up a good thing?”

“You're a cynic,” Jonas shot at her.

“No, I just know a lot about good business,” she countered.

Scholar Jantis interrupted their debate. “None of these allegations can be proven,” he said mildly. “Without proof, there is nothing the Temple can do.”

Sulis watched as Jonas sat back in his chair, looking like he might want to protest. The scholar held up his hand.

“Enough has been said on the subject. You are in this class to learn the geography of our land, not to debate the ethics of it. That will come once you are taken by one of the four deities. Now, as Sulis stated, the primary export from Trebue is a type of oil . . .”

Sulis tuned him out again, studying the faces of her classmates with interest. Jonas's brow was crinkled as though he were puzzling out what he knew of tithing and how that could lead to corruption in the Temple. Alannah, a woman slightly older than Sulis, looked troubled, as did the girl beside her with the dark blond curls—­Lasha, Sulis thought was her name. Most of the others were focused on the scholar, except Joaquil, who'd laughed at Sulis earlier. She kept darting angry glances back at Sulis, as though blaming her for the troubles of Trebue. Sulis wondered if Joaquil didn't like that Sulis knew more about her Territory than she did. Or maybe she thought Sulis was being disrespectful to the Scholar. She shrugged it off.

The Scholar dismissed the class when the dinner bell rang, and Sulis was the first to slip out of her chair and out of the room. Djinn sat in the empty hallway, his back turned to the classroom door, tail tucked around his feet, and she smiled to herself as she ruffled the fur on his head. He immediately stood and bumped his head against her ribs, purring and knocking her slightly sideways.

“Was he waiting here for you?” a male voice asked behind her, and she turned to see Jonas looking at her and Djinn, with Alannah and Lasha standing close behind him.

Sulis grinned. “Of course he wasn't,” she said, affectionately scratching the great cat's ears. “He just happened to be in the hallway at the same time class was letting out, I just happened to be here to pet him, and he'll just happen to follow me into the dining hall, where he'll get the best off my plate.”

Jonas smothered a laugh, and Djinn gazed appraisingly at him. But when the feline stalked over to him, Jonas turned white and took a step back.

Sulis was astonished by his reaction. “He's a shameless flirt. Pet him, and you'll never get rid of him,” she told Jonas.

Jonas reached out a trembling hand to the cat, and Djinn ducked under it, positioning himself for scratches as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Jonas laughed shakily as Djinn started purring.

“He's like the barn cats at home,” he told Sulis, who nodded.

“Only much, much smarter. He understands about everything I say, which really surprised me since the desert
feli
don't listen to any commands. Are your
feli
the same?” she asked, including the two other women in the conversation.

They looked at each other, their eyes wide.

“I wouldn't know,” Alannah admitted. “Yaslin isn't around much, and when she is, I don't dare touch her.”

Sulis wrinkled her brow. She hadn't seen much of the other pledges'
feli
, but then, she'd spent most of the past ­couple months with the Temple elders, being tested to see what she knew and being instructed in a dizzying array of Temple customs she now had to follow. This was the only class she'd been permitted to take with her pledgemates, and today was just the third day she'd been released to eat meals at the main dining halls rather than take them with the Mother Superior.

“Why don't you dare touch her? Is she vicious?” she asked.

The three other pledges looked at each other, a solid bloc of puzzlement. Sulis had seen this reaction a lot since pledging the Temple.

Jonas shook his head. “This isn't something that can be explained quickly, and I'm hungry. Let's go to the dining hall; we can talk better there.”

The girls nodded. Sulis followed the others across the courtyard and through a side door to the dining area.

This dining hall was located between the altars of Parasu and Aryn, closest to the classroom they had just left, so most of the ­people were cloaked in either blue or green robes, with the exception of the pledges' gray. Sulis stood in line behind the others to receive a large platter with a bowl of a meaty stew, a chunk of bread, and a soft, flaky fruit pastry. Djinn installed himself under the table at her feet, his head on her lap. She dropped a hand holding a piece of stewed meat onto her lap and he licked her hand clean, his rough tongue tickling her palm. The stew was a little bland for Sulis's taste, but the good yeast bread spread with cows' butter made up for it.

She allowed the others to eat for a few moments before asking her question again. “Why don't you touch your
feli
?”

After a moment of chewing, it was Lasha who answered Sulis.

“
Feli
are sacred creatures. They are a part of the One god and must be treated with respect,” she said.

“Respect, yes, but avoidance?”

Jonas picked up her thread of thought. “We are taught that in the beginning, the One created the
feli
from his essence as companions. He . . .”

“She!” Alannah interjected with a smile.

Jonas smiled and nudged her with an elbow. “The One is not of a shape we can ever comprehend, Alannah. Anyway, the
feli
became lonely because there were many
feli
but only one of him. So the One mixed the curiosity of a
feli
, the grace of a firebird, the upright stance of a troll, and the cunning of a dragon, set this race of ­people onto the earth, and blew life into them. Though they provided great amusement for the
feli
, the One soon regretted creating the mixture since ­people bothered him with incessant chatter and questions.”

Jonas stopped to take a bite of the stew, and Alannah picked up the thread. “So the One removed herself from the earth but sacrificed some of her essence to create the deities to rule the humans in her stead.”

Sulis nodded. Coming from the desert, she had never worshipped the deities, but her mother had taught her their creation story, and she knew who they each were. Ivanha, whose element was earth, the goddess representing hearth and home; Voras, of flame, the god of conflict and war; Aryn, the twinned goddess of the wind, messenger and healer; and Parasu, of water, representing justice and scholarship. Sulis couldn't resist offering her own thoughts on the deities. “Except, of course, the deities had just as many human traits as godly ones—­a big mistake on the One's part. Unlimited power with pride and greed is an ugly mixture. But what does that have to do with the
feli
?”

“Well,” Lasha said, “as soon the sharp ears of the
feli
heard cries from earth, they alerted the One. She looked back to find the deities quarreling over which person would worship which god. War had broken out, and we'd forgotten the One in our struggle to worship the four enough to survive. The deities had combined their powers, and the One was only able to humble them and bring down their temples with the help of the
feli
and the few still-­faithful humans. The One tore the deities' powers from them so they would be able to work only through Temple acolytes like us.”

“But even that wasn't enough,” Jonas interjected. “The One realized the deities could force themselves on the minds of the acolytes, making them serve unwillingly. So the
feli
volunteered to partner with the humans who, after all, were created for them. Only by bonding with the One's most faithful and beloved, the
feli
, could mortals be pledged. The deities must channel their power through
feli
, and acolytes can only speak with their deity through linking with their
feli
.”

Alannah nodded. “So that is why we treat them with such respect—­they are our protectors from the cruel side of the deities. Through them, we also encounter the loving grace of our deity. It is a sign of reverence that we don't bother the sacred creatures more than they wish.”

Sulis looked down at the big tawny head on her lap. Djinn looked hopefully back and belched. He didn't look like much of a sacred creature with stew stuck in his whiskers. She shook her head.

“I think you've got it all wrong,” she announced.

Alannah cocked her head to the side inquisitively, while Lasha twisted a lock of hair around her finger and narrowed her eyes. Jonas folded his hands in front of him on the table, a little challengingly.

“Think about it. We were made for the
feli
. We were made to be paired to them, and they enjoy us.” Djinn started to purr, perhaps in response to her words. “I've lived around
feli
all my life, with the wild ones in the desert. They're a proud breed and won't ask for affection—­but as the One realized, they are living creatures who need us. We have to humble ourselves to outstretch the first hand.”

“If that is not what the One wants, then why have we always been taught to avoid the
feli
?” Jonas protested.

Sulis leaned forward, speaking softly. “Is avoiding them what the One wants, or what the deities want? Who would gain the most by this estrangement of
feli
and humans?” She said it mostly to shock them since they seemed so very prim to her, but once the words were out, she wondered if it might be true.

The other three stared at her in horror.

“They wouldn't dare—­not after losing the war,” Lasha squeaked. Alannah and Jonas nodded in agreement, but both looked thoughtful.

“I think —­” Jonas started, but was interrupted by a bell ringing. He grimaced. “Whiskers, that's the bell for vespers! We won't have another free moment all night.”

Sulis nodded, rising with the rest of the group to head out into the courtyard. “I start equitation tomorrow, but I think I have a free space just before midmeal. We could meet in this courtyard to talk.”