“As a child?” Lander exclaimed.
The widow nodded. “It was my father’s decision, but he had no choice, of course. The elders demanded it.”
“The elders were fools!”
When Ruha did not meet his gaze, Lander leaned over the dung patties and began striking sparks. The third one caught, and he gently blew on it until it produced a small flame in the tinder.
“Who are fools?” asked a youth’s familiar voice.
Lander looked up and saw that Kadumi had returned from his duty as a scout. The boy was standing at the edge of their campsite, his bow and quiver in one hand and the reins of his camel in the other.
“Er—nobody,” Lander said.
The color rose to the visible part of Ruha’s cheeks, and Lander looked uncomfortably back to the flame.
Kadumi scowled, then turned to unsaddle his camel. After a moment of tense silence, he asked again, “Who are fools?”
“Nobody,” Lander replied, looking up from his fire. “Ruha and I were just talking about the differences in our cultures.”
Though he wasn’t sure why he should be embarrassed, Lander could sense from the attitudes of both Kadumi and Ruha that he and the young widow had violated an unspoken rule.
The Harper’s explanation did not satisfy the youth. Tossing his bow and quiver aside, Kadumi advanced angrily. “Ruha is my brother’s wife,” he said. “You may not have secrets with her!”
Lander stood. “We don’t have any secrets—”
Kadumi reached for his jambiya.
“Kadumi, no!” Ruha cried.
The Harper was so shocked by the action that the boy actually had the blade halfway out of the scabbard before Lander caught his arm. Grasping Kadumi’s wrist tightly, he helped him pull the dagger the rest of the way out of the sheath, then quickly used his free hand to press inward against the joint. Kadumi cried out in pain and dropped the dagger.
“Don’t draw a weapon on a man you can’t kill,” Lander said. His heart was pounding hard, but he kept his voice even.
Kadumi’s response was direct and heated. “Blood!” he yelled.
The word resounded across the rocky plain, bringing the camp to sudden silence.
Ruha shook her head violently. “Kadumi, don’t do this.”
Lander released the youth and pushed him away. Before the Harper could kick the boy’s jambiya back to him, Sa’ar and several warriors arrived.
“What’s happening here?” the sheikh demanded.
Kadumi pointed at Lander. “He’s courting Ruha,” the boy accused. “I have challenged him.”
Sa’ar looked from the boy to Lander, then back to the boy again. “You’re sure?” he asked. “We could have misunderstood you.”
“You did not misunderstand,” Kadumi snapped. “It is my family’s honor.”
The sheikh sighed, then gave Ruha an accusatory glance. “We had better do this according to tradition,” he said. “Give the boy his jambiya, Lander.”
The Harper did not move to obey. “Why?”
Sa’ar frowned. “He challenged you,” the sheikh responded. “Kill him, and Ruha is yours.”
The Harper looked from the sheikh to Kadumi. The boy was trembling, though Lander could not be sure whether it was with fear or anger. Regardless, he was standing tall and staring at Lander with an unwavering gaze.
“He’s just a boy!” Lander objected.
“He’s a Bedine warrior,” Sa’ar corrected. “Don’t worry. We’ll witness the fight. Nobody will doubt your honor if you win.”
Lander snorted his disbelief, then shook his head. “I won’t do it. I refuse the challenge.”
The warriors gasped, and Sa’ar looked confused. “What?”
“Kadumi can try to kill me if he wishes,” Lander explained. “But I won’t kill him. I refuse his challenge.”
“You can’t do that!” the youth yelled.
“I can, and I have,” Lander replied calmly.
The Bedine stood, looking confused. Several moments later, Ruha burst out laughing. “Kadumi, if you must, try to kill him. I doubt that any harm will come of it.”
The warriors could not restrain a few chuckles, but Sa’ar did not seem amused. He pondered the situation for what seemed like an hour, then turned to Lander and pronounced his judgment.
“Very well. Since you are not a Bedine, it is your privilege to refuse Kadumi’s challenge,” he said. “But being a berrani does not entitle you to ignore all of our traditions. Ruha is still the widow of Kadumi’s brother, and it is a matter of family honor that he defend her reputation, whether she wishes it or not.”
The sheikh glanced at the Harper meaningfully, then continued, “Therefore, you will not speak to Ruha except in Kadumi’s presence. In return, he will not challenge—or attack—you again. This is my decision, and be it known that any who ignore it violate my hospitality.”
Ten
Ruha’s camel had begun to limp, but the widow did not bother to dismount. After four days of travel on At’ar’s Looking Glass, half the Mahwa were riding lame beasts. With the merciless goddess blazing down on the wind-burnished stones, the searing heat blistered even the tough pads of the camels’ feet.
In order to reach his allies as quickly as possible, Sa’ar was pushing his tribe through the worst part of the day. Heat rose off the desert floor in rippling waves that gave the Looking Glass the appearance of a huge lake of molten rock. On the horizon, a line of tiny spires danced in the shimmering air. Though still so distant they looked like billows of violet smoke rather than minarets of desert rock, the obelisks were a welcome sight to Ruha’s aching eyes. The stony towers marked the edge of At’ar’s Looking Glass, and not far beyond lay the Mahwa’s destination.
Upon sighting the spires, Sheikh Sa’ar had declared that the Mahwa would not sleep until they reached the Well of the Chasm. The declaration had delighted Lander, who was eager to reach the next tribe before the Zhentarim enslaved or destroyed it. Despite her weariness, Ruha shared the Harper’s impatience, though for a different reason. The sooner he became convinced that the Bedine were responding to the Zhentarim threat, the sooner he would return to Sembia—taking her with him, of course.
The widow closed her eyes, hoping she could adjust to the new hitch in her camel’s rolling gait. She tried to imagine the green valley of Archendale, where cold water filled the canyon and Mielikki’s forest was so thick that At’ar could not penetrate its canopy. Try as she might, Ruha could not picture such a scene. She would simply have to go and see it with her own eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep,” warned a familiar voice. “It’s a long way down and the landing is hard.”
Ruha opened her eyes and saw that Lander had moved his camel closer to hers. She reacted by nudging her own mount away. “You mustn’t!” she whispered, shaking her head. “If Kadumi sees us speaking, it may be his dagger that cuts you open.”
“Surely he wouldn’t violate the sheikh’s orders,” Lander returned. “You did say that he was an honorable boy.”
“It is because he is an honorable boy that he would violate the sheikh’s word,” Ruha countered. “He would do anything to avenge a wrong against his dead brother.”
The Harper seemed unimpressed. “Kadumi’s blade is not one that I’m afraid of.”
“Then you are a fool!” Ruha countered.
“Perhaps,” Lander replied, shrugging. “But the sheikh’s prohibition is against speaking to you without your brother-in-law present.” He nodded toward the rear. “Kadumi’s less than thirty yards away.”
The widow did not need to look to know Lander spoke the truth. After Sa’ar’s judgment, the jealous youth had even relinquished his scouting duties to watch her. He had barely let her out of his sight since.
Disregarding the Harper’s reassurances, Ruha again steered her mount away. “He’s supposed to hear what we say.”