“Go on,” I said. “One thing I don’t need to teach you is how to charm the wine-girls. Or how to lure them into bed. One glance from those eyes of yours takes care of that.” He had melting eyes, did Neesha; a warm ale-brown and fringed with thick lashes.
He grinned at me, showing lots of white teeth against his tanned face. And got up laughing as I shooed him away with a gesture. Two of the four wine-girls attached themselves to him at once. I saw scowls tossed Neesha’s way by the newly unattended men.
Ah, yes, my son. Definitely my son.
Come morning, I was outside the livery, hitching the team to the wagon and making sure supplies were packed safely. I’d just completed my tasks when Neesha arrived, looking the worse for wear. Dark hair was sticking out here and there, and he moved with a little less grace than usual. Overnight stubble shadowed the angles of jaw and cheekbone. He was in harness, but the burnous over it had been belted haphazardly.
I grinned to myself as I climbed up into the wagon. “Satisfying a woman all night is a taxing job.”
He shot me a baleful glare. “Not something you’d remember. With wine-girls, I mean.”
Definitely out of sorts, my son. “Are you coming home with me?”
Neesha nodded. He changed course and went into the livery to get his horse and tack. In the meantime, I told my team to be patient and grabbed a full bota. When Neesha came out, leading his horse, I tossed him the bota. “Aqivi,” I noted. “Hair of the dog.”
He caught the bota and unstoppered it. “You’re taking aqivi with us?”
“It has its medicinal qualities.”
Neesha grunted and squirted liquor into his mouth. A couple of big swallows, and he restoppered and tossed it back to me. But even somewhat hung over and worn out, his grace in mounting his horse didn’t waver. Growing up on a horse farm will do that. Everything is second nature.
“Let’s go,” I said. “We’re burning daylight.”
Neesha squinted at the lightening sky. “Does it qualify as daylight yet?”
“Close enough.” I clicked my tongue at the team as I took up the reins. “Since you’re so all fired up to go on adventures, we should make as many preparations today as possible, so we’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”
Neesha brought his horse up to ride beside me. “You’ve changed your tune,” he observed. “Now you’re in a hurry.”
It was true the promise of leaving the canyon for a while appealed now, as it hadn’t when Neesha first brought it up. I didn’t feel stifled by my duties as a teacher, but it would be nice to get out in the world again. I suspected Del felt the same—or would, once she got over leaving Sula behind. In two years, other than visiting Julah, we hadn’t gone anywhere, certainly not with a baby in hand. But Sula would be fine with Lena and Alric. I think she considered them as much her family as Del and me.
We rattled out of town, following the ruts that led toward the canyon. The route was no longer quite as direct as when Del and I first discovered it. We had wanted to avoid the Vashni, a decidedly hostile tribal clan whose territory edged near the nascent road, but we had to approach the boundary to reach the lean-to atop the bluff. One never knew when shelter, or simply a rest, for humans or horses, would come in handy. I thought it possible the Vashni left us alone because Del’s brother was their Oracle—they had, after all, accepted him as one of their own. I’d had my dealings with them as well, when one tried to turn me into a dream-walker. But it wasn’t wise to be complacent about the appearance of amity. One never knew what the Vashni might do. And their idea of hospitality was to boil uninvited guests in a cauldron.
Through the riverbed that hadn’t held water for as long as I knew, then up the bluff to its small plateau. A horse was tied in the thin shade of the trees that edged the bluff. I figured it was a good place to water the team.
Just as I began to climb down from the wagon, a man walked out of the lean-to. Sword-dancer. No burnous, so there was an expanse of abdomen and shoulders naked save for a harness, and bare legs below dhoti. Also bare feet.
And I knew him.
“Challenge,” said Khalid.
Oh, hoolies.
I jumped down to the ground. “So now you’re giving me a chance to meet you in a circle instead of simply attacking? I thought I had no honor and wasn’t deserving of a dance in the circle. Or words to that effect.” I’d halted the wagon in the thin copse of trees, near what must be Khalid’s horse. I went about the business of getting canvas buckets out of the wagon and two fat botas.
“I’ll dance with you,” Neesha announced to Khalid.
I glanced at him, startled. But Khalid demurred, looking at me. “You’re not good enough. I want him.”
“Hah,” Neesha said. “Afraid to risk losing to me.”
This time Khalid looked at him. “There’s no risk of that. You were soundly beaten.”
Neesha glared at him. “I was beaten because I slipped in a puddle of piss. That’s all.”
“I don’t want you. I want to dance against the Sandtiger.”
I unstoppered the botas and poured the contents into both collapsible waxed buckets and placed them close to the team. I slung the botas back into the wagon, then unlaced my sandals, stripped out of my burnous, unbuckled the harness. I placed everything in the wagon. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
My son was startled. “You’re not!”
“I am.” I looked at him. “Draw the circle, Neesha.”
Khalid started to object, but one glance from me silenced him. He’d already drawn two of them in Julah. Our turn now. He got out of his harness and tossed it into the lean-to, keeping the sword with him.
Neesha jumped down from the saddle and looped reins around a bush. Like me, he watered the horse first, then walked out to the most level section of ground he could find. For my benefit, he made a production out of testing footing. Rocks were kicked aside, wood was tossed away, twigs picked up and deposited elsewhere. Then he took off his sandals and walked the area, muttering something about no puddles. Finally satisfied—though not looking happy about it—he drew his sword from the sheath at his shoulder and set the point into the dirt. He wasted no time; he knew, as did I, as did Khalid, how to draw a circle quickly and accurately. Then he stepped away.
I looked at Khalid. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely sure?”
“Yes. I said so.”
“Well, as you said to him—” I gestured to Neesha with a jerk of my head, “‘you were soundly beaten.’”
He put up his chin. “I know that. I—”
I overrode him. “And you want a dance to the death?”
He closed his mouth.
“Remember,” I noted, “I let you live last time.”
“That was a death-dance. Well, no, it wasn’t really a dance, since you have no honor, except you stayed in the circle anyway. It was—”
“I know exactly what it was,” I interrupted. “It was an attempt to humiliate a farmer aping sword-dancers. But then you figured out who I was, and the stakes changed. I’m fair game to any sword-dancer because of what I did. And how better to establish yourself than to kill the Sandtiger? Instant credibility.” Gripping the hilt, I rested the flat of the blade against my shoulder. “Last time I had a bounty on my head, thanks to Umir, but—”
This time he cut me off. “You still do.”
I stared at him.