The warriors drew back before the Akkad-Dar while one explained in a spat of heated words what had happened. At Lanther’s command, they sheathed their swords and stood glowering at the woman they believed to be a slave.
Lanther peered over the edge of wharf then turned his back on the fallen warrior. “Why did you do that?” he demanded.
She drew herself up to her full height. “The oaf tried to touch Callista. I have a reputation to establish.”
A single eyebrow rose on Lanther’s face before his vivid blue eyes began to twinkle and he burst into appreciative laughter. “An excellent beginning, my lady.” He bowed to her.
He switched to the Tarmak tongue and, speaking to those around him, grated through a long string of sentences.
Although Linsha only caught a few words, she could see the effect of his intent on the faces around her. The Tarmaks relaxed; a few smiled. The warriors appraised her from head to toe and shrugged. No one, Linsha noted, made any effort to go after the warrior in the water or even throw him a line.
“Are you going to leave him there?” she asked.
Lanther made a dismissive gesture. “He was stupid enough to let himself be tossed in. He can find his own way out.”
The press of Tarmaks parted behind him. The guards, the canopy, and several dignified-looking old Tarmaks in robes of blue approached escorting one of the most massive males Linsha had ever seen on two feet. His girth made most minotaurs look skinny. He stood a good seven and a half feet tall, and his grizzled bushy hair and beard added even more height and bulk. A magnificent headdress made of beaten gold and the tail feathers of a large bird crowned his huge head. On his shoulders was draped the pelt of a black panther. A golden torque hung about his neck, and his arms were bound with gold arm rings. He stood under his canopy in the falling rain and looked over his people with the immovable assurance of a mountain.
Every Tarmak fell to one knee and clasped their upraised hands together. Callista and the slave girls stared with frightened eyes until the guards forced them to kneel as well. Only Lanther, the slaves hanging grimly onto the poles of the canopy, and Linsha, who crossed her arms and looked unimpressed, remained on their feet.
Ignoring Linsha for the time, Lanther threw open his arms, and his face split into a huge smile of welcome and pleasure.
To Linsha’s astonishment, a young, rather damp Tarmak woman cried out in delight. She sprang back to her feet, broke away from the stately entourage, threw herself into Lanther’s arms and kissed him in such an embrace of ardent passion that Linsha’s mouth dropped open. She turned her head and looked at Callista kneeling behind her, missing the startled, wary look that passed over Lanther’s features.
Curious, Linsha eyed the young Tarmak. The woman stood a healthy six inches taller than Linsha and was certainly in better physical shape. While Linsha had suffered through almost five months of deprivation, struggle, poor food, wounds, and illness, this woman must have been running up mountain slopes and butchering cattle in her spare time. She had the same athletic grace to her build and motion as the males and a formidable upper body strength that spoke of years of weapons practice. Her fair skin was darkened from a lifetime spent outdoors, and her black hair was braided into the single, utilitarian braid laced with polished stone beads.
Lanther gently but firmly pushed the Tarmak woman back a step and explained something to her in her own language.
Whatever it was he said to her, Linsha could see the woman was not taking it well. Her face darkened with anger and a scowl turned her excitement to ugly scorn.
The huge male under the canopy rumbled a question or two to Lanther in a voice that reminded Linsha of boulders rolling down a hillside. The Akkad-Dar bowed low. Taking Linsha by the arm, he pulled her over to face the huge Tarmak and launched into a much longer explanation. Linsha understood only bits and pieces, but she caught the gist of it. Lanther was apparently extolling her virtues as a warrior. At one break in his narrative, he pointed over the dock and into the water, which elicited a chuckle from the big Tarmak and looks of curiosity from the others close by.
If the men of the group were interested by Lanther’s tale, the woman was not. She put her hands on her hips while Lanther talked and focused her unfriendly glare on Linsha. Her dark brown eyes bore into Linsha’s with unadulterated animosity.
“What’s going on?” asked Linsha. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to ignore the insidious little chill that slid up her back.
Lanther switched to Common and said, “My lady, I would like you to meet Khanwhelak, Emperor of Ithin’carthia, Lord Subjugator, Chosen of Kadulawa’ah, I have told him of your prowess as a warrior.”
With a grim smile, she swallowed her obstinate pride. Clasping her hands, she bowed to the Emperor. She might toss the odd Tarmak warrior into the water, but she knew enough to back away from dangerous shoals. This giant of a Tarmak could crush her with one hand or order a dozen warriors to hack her to bits.
Lanther bowed as well and added something else, but a sharp word interrupted his speech. The young woman stalked up to him and launched into a long diatribe laced with furious gestures and loud words directed equally to Lanther and the Emperor. Linsha did not need a translator to catch the derision and disdain directed at her or the heated argument the woman was heaping on both males’ heads. Linsha wondered if she was a relative to be allowed to address the emperor in such tones.
The Emperor let her rant for a short while before he cut her off with a single word. He said something to Lanther that seemed to calm the woman a little, but Linsha saw the Akkad-Dar’s jaw muscles tighten and the scar on his right cheek turn a darker red. She wiped the rain from her eyes and wondered what had just transpired.
The Emperor shouted something to his people, who cheered with great appreciation, then he and his guards, accompanied by Lanther and the ship’s officers, proceeded up the broad road away from the wharves and disappeared into the busy city streets.
Linsha watched them go while her apprehension grew. She and Callista had been left behind with the slave girls and no clear idea of what they should do next. The Tarmak woman glared down her aristocratic nose at them, turned her back, and left with a toss of her long braid.
“Isn’t she a charmer?” Linsha muttered, helping Callista to her feet.
“If she were in my business, she would use chains and whips,” the courtesan replied with a note of professional disdain. She pulled her blanket back over her damp hair, looked anxiously at the little huddle of young women, and asked in a soft voice, “What do we do now?”
Her answer came swiftly in the guise of a squad of warriors. The ten Tarmaks quickly herded the slaves, the courtesan, and Linsha into a wet, miserable group and escorted them through the busy waterfront to a paved road that wound up the slope of a high, broad hill. Linsha took the lead of the group and walked after the guards with her head held up and her eyes scanning the city around her. The other women fell in behind her.
They walked through wide streets busy with pedestrians, carts, wagons, and numerous four-legged animals. Linsha saw mules, goats, dogs, and some odd creatures that she had never seen before. She saw chickens and ducks that might have been brought from Ansalon, furry animals that looked like hornless goats with long necks, tiny golden monkeys that scampered through the trees, and spotted cats the size of foxes.
The buildings of the city were constructed of stone and wood and were painted in bright colors. None were over three stories tall and most had flat roofs and wide, colorful awnings that sheltered doors and shop windows. Tarmaks of all ages and both sexes went about their business in the rain beneath the colorful awnings or under parasols that moved and twirled in a rainbow dance that made an unexpected contrast to the drab, wet day.