From her seat by the stairs, Linsha watched the jugglers for a while because she enjoyed juggling and hoped to learn a few tricks. Soon she grew bored with that and watched the revelry around her, wondering if she could slip back to the women’s quarters without anyone noticing. She was tired and out of sorts and very lonely in this mass of Tarmaks. Lanther was talking to some of the Tarmak officers, and no one else felt inclined to speak to her. Callista had not been allowed to attend, and there was no sign of Afec. Linsha found herself wishing for a friendly voice and a little peace and quiet.
Across the walkway the stone dragon glowered down at her, reminding her too vividly of another ugly, horn-headed blue dragon. She glanced up to watch the bats swoop and flutter at the edge of the light where a feast of large moths gathered, drawn by the torchlight. Beyond them stars glittered on the velvety night sky. A few clouds scudded across the stars driven by a stiff westerly wind. Behind the black mass of hills to the northwest, Linsha saw the faint flicker of distant lightning in the heart of a thunderstorm. There would probably be rain later that night.
“Akkad-Dar,” said a sweet voice in Tarmakian, “I wish you many congratulations on your new rank.”
Linsha nearly choked. She whipped her head around and saw Malawaitha bowing low to Lanther.
“Thank you,” Lanther said curtly, making little effort to be pleasant.
The Tarmak officers he had been talking to grinned to one another and stepped back to watch.
Malawaitha rose to her full height and gave the Akkad-Dar a brilliant smile. As a young, unmarried female, she had chosen the alternative style of the wrap dress and wore hers around her hips, well below her ample bare breasts. A magnificent garment of woven gold threads and shimmering beads hung about her neck and draped over her breasts like golden raindrops. Her long hair hung unbound and fell down her back in a dark cascade. She did not seem discouraged by Lanther’s lack of interest.
“My lord,” she pressed on, “I have wanted to talk to you since your return home. Why have you not visited the Akeelawasee?”
“I have had many duties, Malawaitha,” he said.
She moved closer to him, completely ignoring Linsha. “Of course you have. But tonight the court feasts together. There is plenty of time for eating, dancing, and talking. Do you remember how we used to talk? We have shared much pleasure in our quiet walks in the garden. Please come talk with me. I have much to tell you.”
Although the two were speaking in Tarmakian, Linsha was able to follow the gist of the conversation fairly well. Afec’s lessons were beginning to pay off. She wasn’t certain of the several translations for the word “talk,” but Malawaitha’s body language made her meaning perfectly clear. Linsha wondered how Malawaitha’s request would settle with Lanther. Had he lost all feeling for this girl or did he still hold some regard or desire for her? Now that she was pushing her suit in front of others, how did he plan to deal with this without angering the Emperor? Keeping her expression deliberately blank, Linsha watched the two with interest and wished fervently she could take her dragon eggs and go home. Lanther and this woman deserved each other.
The Akkad-Dar chose to ignore Malawaitha and her obvious invitation. He turned back to the officers and resumed his conversation.
Malawaitha’s face reddened. She flashed a look of utter hatred at Linsha. Slowly she bent her leg and knelt on one knee behind Lanther. “My lord,” she said looking up him with proud eyes. “Have you forgotten your promise to me so quickly? You have given your word to my father.”
Lanther’s mouth tightened in irritation and he finally looked at her. “Get up, Malawaitha. You look ridiculous down there. I have a land to conquer. I free you from our binding. Go back to the Akeelawasee, find a husband appropriate to your rank, and give birth to babies suitable for our glorious armies.”
Linsha could not help but feel the tiniest twinge of pity for the woman. Malawaitha was a warrior, a headstrong, tenacious fighter with the heart of a lioness. She should have been born to the Plains tribes or to the centaur clans where her fierce wants and her passionate ambition would have been appreciated. Instead she was forced to live among the royal Tarmak women where she was as caged and repressed as the Damjatt and the Keena. Linsha sensed it had taken all of Malawaitha’s determination to kneel before the Akkad-Dar and plead for her forsaken cause, and Lanther had just coldly kicked her aside. This, Linsha knew, would not end well.
But Malawaitha tried one more time. “Lanther, as Akkad-Dar, you may take several concubines. I do not mind being second wife to this human if it means I may have you as husband.”
Linsha nearly choked. She hid her reaction by swiftly stuffing a bite of meat in her mouth and chewing furiously. Any thought of pity for Malawaitha vanished like a candle flame in a high wind. Marriage to Lanther would be bad enough, but she would plunge a knife in his gut and suffer the consequences if she had to include this vicious Tarmak slut.
Lanther cast a quick glance at her then laughed. “No, Malawaitha. This human will be enough for a wife. She has fought beside me, saved my life, earned my respect. She is a friend of dragons, a rider of horses, and the daughter of a great sorcerer. Through her, my sons will rise to rule an empire that will bring glory and riches to the Tarmak people. I need no other wives. Or concubines.”
If the comment had come from someone else-practically anyone else-Linsha would have felt complimented and pleased by such an accolade. Coming from Lanther the words only stung and irritated.
To Malawaitha, the words did more than sting. The color rose in her face in a hot flush of anger and humiliation. She rose slowly to her feet and stood haughtily glaring down at Linsha. She said nothing, but Linsha could see the fury raging in her eyes.
The hairs rose on the back of Linsha’s neck, for she realized the Tarmak woman had suddenly become very dangerous. She forced a mask of uncomprehending curiosity and looked from Malawaitha to Lanther and back. “What did she say?” she asked Lanther in Common. “Why is she so angry?”
“She wants more than she deserves,” he said, dislike ripe in his voice.
Malawaitha did not know his words, but she caught his tone and something deadly flickered in the brown depths of her eyes. Wordlessly she spun on her heel and hurried up the stairs toward the Emperor, her back rigid in unreleased animosity.
“Was it something you said?” Linsha said innocently.
Lanther gave a snort of laughter. “I know better than that.
You understand much more than you let on, and I’ll wager my best horse that you know exactly what she wanted.” He stopped laughing as he watched Malawaitha how before her father, and the humor vanished from his visage. Tension tightened the muscles around his nose and mouth. With an abrupt gesture, he dismissed the officers. His hand closed around Linsha’s wrist and hauled her to her feet.
Her body stiffened. She could feel the heat from his bare skin and could hear his rapid breathing.
“The time has come,” he hissed. “You will have to challenge Malawaitha to a ket-rhild.”