Mage's Blood (51 page)

‘Huriya – truly? You saw her?’ He seized Jai’s arm as questions poured out: ‘How was she? Was Ramita with her—?’

‘Slow down, brother! Huriya is well – she was alone, except for two Rondian guards. She took me to an Omali shrine, and we were able to talk for a while. Ramita is well – they both are, at least they are fed and have comfortable places to sleep. But Huriya says the jadugara keeps Ramita chained to her bed and has her every night. She can hear her screams, but no one intervenes.’ Jai was trembling.

Kazim felt fury choke him. He stood up and started pacing the roof, clenching and unclenching his fists as visions of his beautiful love, her divine face creased in agony, overwhelmed his mind. He found tears streaking his face and wiped them away. He was desperate for some way to save her. ‘We must free her, brother,’ he cried, ‘we must destroy that
animal
– it is our
duty
.’

Kazim clasped Jai’s hand and embraced him. ‘You are my true brother, Jai. We will crucify that madman and take back Ramita and you shall marry Huriya and we will be heroes – princes among men.’ He gripped his shoulder. ‘You and I, brother! We will kill Meiros and save our women.’

‘But Keita—’

‘Ha, forget that one. Huriya is far prettier – I always intended you would marry her.’

Jai looked uncertain. ‘I don’t think she’d have me, Kaz – she wants much more. She scares me, sometimes, you know.’

‘Ha! Man, don’t worry: I know my sister and she’s perfect for you. But first, we need to think about how to kill that bastard Meiros.’ He patted his sword hilt. ‘These Keshi jadugara think they are using me, but I am using them. We will free Ramita and live as princes.’

Hebusalim, on the continent of Antiopia
Thani (Aprafor) 928
3 months until the Moontide

Kazim is here
. She had dreamed of hearing those three words, had prayed to hear them – and now she had, they had destroyed her fragile peace. Over these four short months she had gradually let go of her old life and found some balance in her new one; she could go whole days without thinking of home. Her husband, at first so repellent, felt like a haven of safety.

But now it all came crashing back in on her: Baranasi’s tangled alleys, the hurly-burly of her people, the warmth of her mother’s arms, the laughter in her father’s voice, the clamour of her siblings. And Kazim, on the rooftops, kissing her. Kazim, gazing up at the moon, daydreaming of travel and adventure, recounting his street battles with the other boys, or some last-ball victory at kalikiti. The warmth of his arm around her shoulders, the musky scent of his body; the feel of his whiskers on her cheek. She had been in love
with Kazim all her life, but the thought of seeing him terrified her.

Her husband was gentle and considerate, but he was a mage: he could pluck stray thoughts from her mind at will. Just one idle thought of Kazim could doom him. She began to picture her husband’s rage if he found her with another man, a mere human. What might he do to Kazim, or Huriya and Jai? She was almost paralysed with fear for them all.

She and Huriya spent hours together, their conversation swirling about wildly as they made and discarded a thousand plans: flight into the wilds; begging her husband on her knees to dissolve their marriage and let her go; imploring Kazim to leave … she even spoke wildly of killing herself, so that Kazim would give her up once and for all.

Huriya’s ideas vacillated just as madly: one moment she was indignant that their brothers had come to spoil their rich exile from the drudgery of Aruna Nagar Market; the next she was voicing murderous thoughts of slitting throats and escaping into the night.

Worst of all was when Ramita was alone with her husband. She was terrified of him catching her frantic thoughts, so she pleaded illness, then had to endure his concern. He came to her chamber, clearly wishing to lie with her, but she pleaded tiredness and he left, puzzled and disappointed.

Finally Huriya hatched a plan, and next morning, Ramita begged Meiros for the right to go herself to the old Pandit Omprasad’s mandir to pray. ‘Please, lord,’ she whispered, ‘I wish to make an offering each day for a child. I dreamed this would be the only way.’

Meiros looked sceptical. ‘You take your superstitions too seriously, Wife. What will aid your quickening is persistence. And eating well,’ he added, eyeing her half-touched bowl.

‘Please, Husband. Huriya goes there often. It is quite safe.’

‘It might be safe for her, but she is not Lady Meiros.’ He looked doubtful, and as he stared at her she felt her mouth go dry, her heart hammering. ‘You are working yourself into a state over this. Cannot that priest-fellow come here as before?’

‘The mandir – it is very sacred …’

‘Is it? Oh, very well – but just once!’ He thought for a moment, then said gently, ‘Wife, if it would please you, I will have a small shrine built here, for you to pray to your gods.’

She felt a horribly guilty twinge inside. A few weeks ago she would have been overjoyed that he acknowledged her beliefs, but now it was just an impediment to her seeing Kazim. She tried to look pleased. ‘Thank you, Husband,’ she said, her voice low.

He frowned. ‘Perhaps this visit will calm you down. You have been temperamental these past two weeks, Wife.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Don’t be anxious. All will be well.’

She bowed her head, swallowing her fear.

Jos Klein stomped into the mandir, followed by five soldiers, and glared about the tiny enclosure. The stones were fouled by pigeon droppings and rotting berries from the cherry tree in the corner of the tiny courtyard. The shrine was a six-by-six-foot pillared square, roofed, open on three sides. Inside sat a rough-hewn statue of the god, just the shape of a sitting man smeared in dyed paste, identified only by a Siv-lingam and engraved trident. Before it was a sandbox filled with burnt-out incense sticks and marigolds. Smoke rose from a small cooking-fire Omprasad was tending in the corner. There were two other men in priestly orange sitting with him, with the same tangled, ashy hair and beards, but they were younger and fitter-looking.

Klein glared at them. ‘Who are these?’

Huriya answered quickly, ‘They are “chela”, Captain, initiates of the Omali. They have been here a few weeks now. Morden has met them.’ The soldier nodded nervously when Klein looked at him.

‘Get them out of here,’ Klein said, pointing to a middle-aged Lakh man and his family praying before the central shrine. They looked too frightened to protest, but stared curiously at the girls as Morden ushered them away.

Ramita was so afraid she could barely move. She kept her vision focused on the Sivraman idol and a stream of prayers poured from her lips as she fell to her knees before it. Huriya wriggled in beside
her and they prayed fervently for several minutes. She felt ill with tension and lack of food.

‘The soldiers will get bored in a minute and go and sit by the gates,’ Huriya whispered. She pulled back her hood and called loudly, ‘Chela, pray with us!’ As the two young priests shuffled towards them, Huriya whispered, ‘I’ve been doing this every day so that Jos’ soldiers are used to it.’ She sounded excited, as if this were some marvellous adventure.

The initiates knelt between the side pillars. Ramita’s gaze flickered to the man who knelt beside her and her throat almost seized up as Kazim stared back at her, a world of longing in his eyes.

‘Ramita,’ Jai whispered from the other side, but she had eyes only for Kazim.

How changed he looked! His beard was fuller, his skin more weathered. His hair – well, clearly that was disguised by the ash, but it was longer, a real mess. She yearned to reach out and comb it with her fingers. And his eyes –
oh, his eyes
, so clear, pure, so full of light.

‘Mita,’ Kazim whispered and the timbre of his voice, full of longing, of the anguish of hope, vibrated through her. ‘Mita, are you well?’

She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. She glanced at Jai; his face was altered too. They both looked more mature, more manly. They had clearly been through much.

‘Ahem,’ coughed Huriya. ‘Let us pray.’ She spoke in Lakh. ‘You can talk, but look like you’re praying! We’ve only got a few minutes, so get on with it!’

Ramita wished she could reach out and touch him. ‘My love,’ she whispered, ‘are you well?’

‘Now that I have seen you. Huriya has told Jai of how you suffer, and it tears my heart.’

‘Oh, it isn’t so bad. I endure.’
What had Huriya been telling them?

‘You have such courage – I don’t know how you manage to be so brave. But we will rescue you! I promise with all my heart – I promise on my Immortal Soul, I will take you away from this.’

She didn’t know what to say. She stared at him while tears rolled down her cheeks and Jai loudly chanted ridiculous things, snatches
of prayers, folk songs, even lists of market goods. She wished she could hug them both to her for ever.

Kazim told her he was living behind a Dom-al’Ahm, and learning to fight – and he promised there were men dedicated to stealing her away from Meiros when the time was right. ‘If that swine Klein weren’t here we’d do it now, but with a battle-mage to confront we can’t take the risk.’

She blinked. ‘Klein is a mage?’

Huriya whispered, ‘He is – third-ranked, he tells me. That is quite powerful.’

Ramita felt even more nervous, but Kazim sounded confident as he planned out loud. ‘If you can come back tomorrow, we might be able—’

‘Lord Meiros forbids it. Next time, and all times in the future, I am to bring the pandit to Ramita at Casa Meiros,’ Huriya answered.

Kazim groaned. ‘Does he suspect?’

‘No, he is just paranoid. I am amazed he allowed this visit, but Ramita was the perfect actress. Next time, one or both of you must come with Omprasad. You will be allowed into the public area, but we will find a way to get you into our quarters.’ Her voice took on a lascivious tone. ‘We’ll find a way to get you two lovers alone.’

Ramita stared into Kazim’s eyes, the thought of all that could yet be overwhelming her. She bowed her head and prayed through a rain of tears.

To see her, to see her weep, was almost too much. Seconds felt like hours; every word was heavy with meaning. But too soon their time was up. Jos Klein’s massive frame cast a shadow over them as he bade them come, and Ramita furiously wiped her tear-streaked face. Kazim carefully averted his eyes from the battle-mage. He wished fervently he had his blade, but he also remembered the contemptuous ease with which Klein had pummelled him in Baranasi without even resorting to magic. If he was recognised, it would go very badly, so instead, he hunched over pathetically, not even watching as the girls left. Jai, who’d danced before the man at the wedding, was just
as frightened, but neither was recognised, and in seconds, Ramita and Huriya had vanished through the gates to the mandir.

Once certain they were gone, Jai collapsed. ‘By all the gods! I was sure he would recognise me!’

Kazim felt the same dizzying relief. ‘Me too – he’d have remembered you for certain without the beard. And I just had to pray the dirt and turban were enough!’ He glared at the gate, where the family banished earlier were peering in curiously. ‘Why won’t Rashid kidnap her from here?’

Jai put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Patience, Kazim: we will manage. You heard Huriya: she can get us inside Casa Meiros.’

‘Yes, I heard her.’ His heart was burning in his breast. ‘I bet Rashid didn’t help today because he would have had no opportunity to kill Meiros.’

Jai glanced at him. ‘They can’t be serious about that,’ he whispered.

‘They better be, for I am!’ Kazim said fervently. He looked up and swore, ‘Ahm, hear me: I
curse
Antonin Meiros. He will die at my hand: I swear it.’

Huriya briefed Kazim and Jai the day before they were to visit Casa Meiros for the first time. She showed them the palm of her left hand, which was etched with strange patterns. ‘See these lines? They allow me to open the doors that separate each part of the House. I can get us into most places, but not into Meiros’ rooms; only Ramita can go there. But I have a plan. Meiros says we can use a place in the private courtyard as a shrine. We’ve taken Omprasad to Ramita’s room to wash him, so I’m sure we can get you in too – as long as you look harmless. So make sure you do – and you must be
careful
.’

Kazim knew how well Huriya loved her material comforts, so for her to so actively aid them spoke volumes of her love for him and Ramita. ‘Ahm will reward you, sister,’ he said appreciatively.

It was with bent backs and ashen hair that they tottered beside the oblivious Omprasad the next morning. Emir Rashid had spoken to the old pandit, and now he truly believed Jai and Kazim were his
pupils. His vacant face occasionally became confused when he looked at them, but he gave no trouble; ganja and a flask of fenni were enough to reconcile him.

At the gates to Casa Meiros, Jos Klein himself looked them over, but not too closely, and with no sign of recognition. A stony-faced guard searched them for weapons, but they’d not been so foolish as to bring any. Then they were through, and his thoughts rebounded, as they had all that sleepless night, to Ramita, and he felt his manhood stiffen.

A good job the soldier hadn’t patted down that weapon
, he thought, then told himself,
Be calm, you probably won’t get to do more than look at her, for Ahm’s sake!

But when he saw her, clad in a shimmering silk salwar, with jewellery kissed by sunlight, it was all he could do not to prostrate himself. She and Huriya wore identical white salwars, but Huriya’s dupatta scarf was orange, while Ramita’s was green. He followed in a daze as Huriya led them all into the inner courtyard, touching the handles of the doors, then pausing until they slid open silently. She showed them a brand-new shrine, which had been purchased intact and concreted against the north wall. A newly carved figure sat within, of Sivraman and his consort Parvasi, with baby Gann-Elephant upon her knee. The detail was rough but not unattractive. Before it, a new Siv-lingam sat, gleaming in the shade. Staring at the phallic idol did nothing to calm his need.