Ferret nodded but did not speak, seemingly occupied by her food instead, though she consumed little.
That night, Ferret watched as Arin and Egil retired to one room, and as Aiko and Burel stepped into another. Delon stood across the hall and softly said, "Goodnight, luv," then he entered the room where Alos was, leaving Ferret in the corridor alone. She sighed and stepped into her chamber and softly closed the door behind.
Removing her veil and bandoliers, she fell backward onto the bed and stared up at the stucco ceiling, with its stipples and dimples and rough texture holding all patterns and none. Finally she roused and doffed her boots and leathers, and poured clear water from the pitcher into the basin at hand and washed her face.
Toweling off, she blew out the lantern and fell once more to the bed.
As she lay and stared into the darkness above, through her window she could hear noises from the city outside: people passing to and fro, the occasional sound of an ired camel, horses' hooves now and again, muted conversation and laughter.
Unbidden, images of Delon came into her mind, echoes of words said, visions of him riding and walking and sitting and singing, fragments of melodies… words from Arin: When thou dost finally take a man into thine embrace or unto thy bed, it will be thou who wilt choose, thou who wilt say yea or nay… no invasion… thou wilt need the most courage and trust… it will not come at all if thou dost take no risk… Ferai, thou must try to accept the past for what it truly was… for what it truly was… set aside thy fear… it will be thou who wilt choose… it will not come at all if thou dost take no risk… risk… risk…
The pale yellow light of a rising gibbous moon came creeping in through her window, and in the soft radiance again she got up and washed her face in cool water, and then lay down once more.
Still, images of Delon came unbidden to her mind, and she lay in her bed, her lips afire from the memory of his kiss, her loins and breasts burning, her entire body aflame…
… risk…
It was near mid of night when she at last arose and padded across the hall to tap on Delon and Alos's door.
The next morning, when Alos awoke he found he was in the room alone.
CHAPTER 5 8
Delon stood on Ferai's balcony, singing bliss to the world at large, and people in the street below paused in wonder at the lyrical joy in his voice, though they understood not a word. And in the chamber behind him, soundly asleep with a smile on her face, lay the subject of his rhapsody.
And across the hall and down, Arin and Egil lay together and held hands and listened to the paean and smiled, for although they knew not for certain the cause of such gladness, they could not help but suspect.
And beyond their own balcony and down in the enclosed courtyard below, steel skirled on steel as two warriors practiced stroke and counterstroke, while shocked servants and guests stared in disbelief, for although one was a man good and proper, the other was of all things a female, and surely this bordered on blasphemy, or so the Fists of Rakka would say. But none suggested this to the woman, for she was entirely too formidable, and a person would have to be a camel-brained fool to even dare whisper to her such words.
And above them and alone in his bed, a one-eyed old man fell back to sleep while songs of love and steel sang all 'round.
Later that morning, Arin, Aiko, Ferret, Delon, and Burel made their way to the archive. When they arrived, once again Delon took station at the entrance, while the others went all the way in. As they approached the central desk, the scholar looked up and smiled, and then his eyes widened. "Burel," he breathed. The 'alim leaped up from his station and rushed to Burel and embraced him and kissed him on the cheeks, a string of Sarainese tumbling from his lips.
Burel smiled and hugged the man and kissed him in return and murmured, "Khuri Ustaz."
Aiko's tilted eyes widened. "You know this man, saia no hito?”
Burel nodded, saying, "He is"-Burel glanced about to see if any of the patrons were listening; none were, yet Burel lowered his voice-"another keeper of faith." He turned to the scholar. "Khuri Ustaz, let us go where we can speak."
The 'alim nodded and, motioning to Delon, led them back to the same chamber he had previously used. Once again Delon took station at the beaded curtain.
Inside, Burel said, "Khuri Ustaz, I would have you meet my companions: Dara Arin of Darda Erynian, Lady Ferai of Gothon, and at the door stands Bard Delon of Gunar. And lastly, let me present my kalb w nafs, Lady Aiko." Burel turned to his companions. "My friends, this is Khuri Ustaz, a priest of Ilsitt."
As the 'alim acknowledged the introductions, he said, "I have met all these before, Burel, though I did not know their names."
As he came to Ferret, she said, "No wonder you knew how to tell us where to find the temple, though your instructions weren't very clear."
The priest-scholar smiled and shrugged. "You could have been agents from the Fists of Rakka, though I am glad you are not."
Then he turned to Aiko and looked long at her and finally said, "So you are Burel's kalb w nafs." It was a statement and not a question. Then without warning, he stepped forward and embraced her.
Perplexed and wary and merely tolerating the 'alim's embrace, Aiko looked up at the grinning Burel. "What have you told him?"
"That you are my heart and soul."
The scholar stepped back and nodded. "Kalb w nafs: heart and soul." Then he turned to Burel. "My boy, I never thought to see you beyond the compound's walls. You must tell me what brings you here."
"Yilan Koy," said Arin. "They are Kistanian words meaning 'Serpent Cove,' or so said the scholar-priest."
"Serpent Cove, Serpent Cove," mumbled Egil, scanning the charts he'd brought from the Brise.
"Here," said Alos, jabbing a forefinger down to one of the parchments.
Egil rotated the chart 'round to the place where Alos had pointed. The map showed an inlet, long and narrow and sinuous. "Hmm. Yes. Shaped like a snake." Then he looked up at the oldster. "That was quick."
"When I heard the common name, I knew where it was," growled Alos, "for I've been there. And let me tell you, it's no place for an honest man."
Egil's eye widened. "You've been to Yilan Koy?”
Alos nodded. "The cove as well as the town in the viper's throat… if there's ever been a worse den of thieves, I've yet to see it." Then he glared with his white eye at Egil and Arin. "I swore when I was there if I ever escaped that pit I'd never go back."
"What wast thou-?"
"Delivering a shipload of pomegranates," snapped Alos, before Arin could finish her question. "Cap'n Borkson took on that damnfool cargo in Chabba because no Hyrinian dhows were in port at the time, and because no others would haul it. 'They gave us a pilot and triple fees,' the cap'n crowed… the more fool he. We barely made it out of there with our hides."
"Why so?" asked Ferret.
"Because once we'd been there, that meant we knew the way in."
Burel looked down at the chart. "The way in?"
"Why d'y' think it's called Serpent Cove?" Before Burel could respond, Alos pointed his finger to the mouth of the inlet and answered his own question: "Not only does it look like a snake on the chart, but there's rocks like serpent's fangs barring the way. This whole coastline's that way-for league upon league in either direction there's jagged stones to hole any hull that comes near. And as to the rocks, the fangs 'cross the inlet, tricky they are, and not just anyone can sail past 'em. I'd say there are no more dangerous shoals lying in any of the waters throughout the whole wide world."