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"We're leaving!" Shai said with relief. He wiped his eyes and went to join the ranks.

The angry ghosts did not follow as the caravan trundled out the northern gate. But they hadn't ridden more than a few lengths when Shai saw an almost transparent wisp trudging along the road, a whipcord man-shape who had such an antique look about him-as though he had lingered in this spot for a hundred years-that Shai actually stared, wondering who this ghost was and where it came from. He had a strange idea that he had seen that face recently, but he couldn't place it. The ghost did not even look at him. As he turned in the saddle to watch it fall behind, it reached a broad stone placed beside the road like a marker, and vanished.

29

For the first three days after leaving Dast Korumbos, they traveled through heavily wooded hills, and although the road bent here to the left and there to the right and at intervals hit steep upward inclines as they climbed out of a valley, on the whole they headed northeast and downslope until Mai thought her tailbone would never stop aching. The Qin never tired or ached, so she refused to complain and had Priya massage her in the evening.

"Sheyshi should massage you, and you should massage Sheyshi." She lay on her stomach, with her head turned sideways so she could see with one eye. Her hair was caught up against her head, tendrils fallen free along her neck. "You must ache, too."

Priya smiled as she rubbed Mai's buttocks. "This is an easy life, compared to what came before."

"I wish I was a horse," Sheyshi whispered. She only ever whispered.

"Why do you wish you were a horse?" Mai asked. "Oh. Ah! Yes, right there!"

Sheyshi did not answer. She was the most reserved person Mai had ever met, closemouthed, not at all confiding.

"Horses are free," said Priya.

"Sheyshi, do you wish you were free?" Mai asked. "When we have found a place to live, I'll make sure you can earn extra zastras-or whatever they use here-to earn money toward your manumission. That's perfectly fair. Commander Beje gave me your bill of sale. That amount is what you must earn to buy your freedom."

The girl colored, stared at her hands, then lifted her gaze to look at Mai as daringly as she ever had. "I would like to be free," she whispered. "But that isn't what I meant. I dream sometimes about things. I dreamed I was a horse, running over the grass. It felt-it felt-" But after all, that was too much confiding! Sheyshi squeezed shut her mouth, twisted her hands and, to make herself busy, offered Priya more oil for the massage even though Priya's hands were moist and Mai's flanks smoothly coated.

Priya chuckled. "Were you a mare, or a stallion? I've wondered, sometimes, how it might feel to be a stallion-man or horse-and have such a-"

"Oh, stop teasing her!" Mai scolded, because the girl looked miserable. Or maybe not. Commander Beje had implied that the girl slept in the bed with his chief wife and that there was play between them. "Are you lonely, Sheyshi?"

Sheyshi wore a green silk cap from which hung shoulder-length streamers, some of green silk, some of gold and white beads, and one woven out of supple wire. Normally the arrangement left her face exposed, but with her head bowed the streamers concealed her expression.

"Hard to come by right now," said Priya as she rubbed, "but I can make sheaths out of sheep gut if you're wanting comfort with a man without catching a child in your sack."

Mai chuckled. "You made me no such offer, Priya! A sheep-gut sheath for a man's sword!"

"You are freeborn, and now a wife. You must get a child as soon as you can." She paused with a hand resting on the gentle curve of Mai's lower back. "Perhaps…"

"It's too early," said Mai, suddenly frightened. "Don't say anything."

Priya began kneading again as if nothing had been said. "I will pray to the Merciful One that you are blessed with seven sons, and three daughters."

It was good to change the subject. "How can it be, if there are always seven sons but only three daughters, that all the sons can get married? In Kartu, the clan banner goes only to the eldest son. But all my uncles got wives-well, except for Uncle Shai, and Uncle Hari, and Uncle Girish." She shuddered, remembering Girish. He'd paved his own path to the deepest hell.

"Priests and soldiers need not marry," said Priya. "This way we always have plenty of them."

"Ow! Ow! No, don't stop! Right there!" She groaned in blissful pain. "Yes, right there! It hurts!" Priya worked in silence while Mai kept her eyes shut and breathed into the knot of pain to try to loosen it.

Sheyshi shuffled around; there came footsteps, an opening and closing of the flap of the tent. Feet shushed along the carpet, and just before Mai opened her eyes to see what was going on, hands began massaging her again. These hands were firm and strong and callused, and no less knowing.

"Anji." She smiled as she opened her eyes.

He kept kneading with one hand and with the other slipped free the tortoiseshell comb that bound up her hair, uncoiling it and raking it out over her back. "I am the most fortunate of men," he murmured.

"I am the most flattered of women."

He laughed. "It is not flattery if it is true. Not one man among this company does not honor your beauty and good nature, Mai."

She rolled out from his hand, onto her side, and propped her head up on a bent elbow. "Is that what you seek? The envy of other men?"

He considered the comment, but his gaze roamed along her body and his hands twitched, although he did not-yet-touch her. "It is easy to be gratified by the envy of others, directed at what you yourself possess. But it weakens you. Half the secret of your beauty, plum blossom, is that you do not covet it or use it." Then he smiled. "Except in the marketplace, to drive a harder bargain."

"You will never let me forget that."

"I must know the measure of those I hold closest. Any commander must measure his troops in this manner."

"I am no different than your troops?"

He said nothing, and she understood abruptly that it would be foolish to press the conversation any further in this direction.

She groped for and found the scraper Priya would have used to clean the oil off her body. "When do I get my bath?"

He relaxed. "Soon." He took the scraper and worked methodically, but somehow by the time he had finished he was also undressed and she was warm and almost delirious with pleasure.

"Soon," he repeated, kissing her.

She wrapped her limbs around him and took what she wanted.

DO NOT FEAR happiness.

Is it dangerous to become too happy? To get what you want, and be blessed with good fortune? A kind husband. A missed bleeding. As Grandmother Mei used to say, in her querulous way, "Why do you think you'll get a drink from my cup just because I gave you one yesterday?"

She pondered this question at dawn as she rolled up the blankets and the sleeping carpets while, outside, Priya and O'eki released the tent ropes. She crawled out as the walls collapsed. Sheyshi collected the bedding and secured it to one of the packhorses. Anji stood beside the sentry fire talking with the man who rode that huge and intimidating eagle. Anji had an easy way of conversing with other men. He had a natural precision of movement, and he took up space in a way that made him noticeable without diminishing those in his company. He glanced her way, saw her, and without smiling-just a certain way of narrowing his eyes and the barest curve to his lips-made her flush.

Grandmother had not approved of happiness. She said it led to carelessness and trouble, or perhaps she had meant that happiness led you to carelessness, which in turn took your hand and walked you into trouble. Good fortune was fickle. You must never count on it.