Ruha was not overly concerned. Tang had tacitly admit- ted that his mother had been kidnapped by the Cult of the Dragon, and in her mind at least, that made them allies, not enemies.
"I am sorry, Prince," Ruha said. "I cannot become your concubine. My other obligations would interfere."
Tang considered Ruha as though he did not under- stand the language she was speaking. The covetous expression she had glimpsed earlier once again filled his eyes, this time stronger than ever.
"I give you your weight in gold each year," Tang promised. "And I build you private palace!"
Behind Ruha, a familiar voice made a harsh demand in Shou. The witch looked across the courtyard and was astonished to see Wei Dao herself clambering through the narrow space between the gate tops and the archway.
The princess was dressed in a simple black tunic and trousers uniform, with a row of slender daggers hanging from a black sash tied around her waist.
"Ginger Palace needs good wu-jen." Though Tang spoke in Common, his comment was directed toward his
wife.
"But not Ruha," Wei Dao countered, also speaking in
Common. She lowered her toes onto the crossbar, then nimbly jumped to the ground. "She sneaks into Lady
Feng's private chambers-and breaks window when she tries to escape."
Ruha turned her back on Wei Dao and faced Tang.
"Prince, it is not necessary that I become your concubine to serve the Ginger Palace."
The witch heard Wei Dao's light footsteps coming across the courtyard and realized the princess had not bothered to unbar the gate for the guards. Happy to see that her hosts did not consider her a threat to their safety, she continued to face Tang.
"Prince Tang, we all wish to see your mother delivered from the hands of her captors. Does that not make us friends?"
"No!" Tang snapped, with surprising vigor in his voice.
His eyes briefly flickered past Ruha's shoulder and returned. "I serve the Emperor of Shou Lung, and you serve… a lesser master."
"But we all oppose the Cult of the Dragon." Though she was aware that Wei Dao had stopped a short distance behind her, Ruha kept her attention fixed on Prince
Tang, determined to win his friendship without becoming a Virtuous Concubine. "In the desert, we have a saying:
the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Tang's eyes flashed in anger; then he slipped around the basking stone so swiftly that Ruha barely had time to turn around before he was standing between her and the gates. The witch found herself looking over his shoulder at Wei Dao, who was standing ten paces away with one of her slender daggers cocked to throw.
"I say no," Tang said, speaking to his wife. "Put wasp knife away."
Wei Dao did not lower the weapon. "Foolish Husband, you turn back on spy! Why do you place yourself in dan- ger? What is wrong with you?"
"What is wrong with.you?" Tang countered. "Do you defy command of Imperial Shou Prince?"
Wei Dao's eyes flared in surprise and hurt. She looked past Tang's shoulder and shot Ruha a look as deadly as her wasp knife, then reluctantly lowered both her weapon and her gaze.
"I do not mean to disobey Exalted Prince." The Princess bowed deeply to her husband. "I think only of your safety"
Ruha felt herself take a deep breath; then she slipped from behind Prince Tang and executed a bow of her own, to Wei Dao. "You have nothing to fear from me. Radiant
Princess. I come as a friend to Lady Feng and the Ginger
Palace, nothing more."
Wei Dao's lips curled into a sneer. "Yes, spy always comes as friend. But do not think me stupid, Witch. You care nothing for our troubles, and I watch to make cer- tain you do not harm Beloved Husband."
Recognizing that it was impossible to make peace with
Wei Dao, Ruha turned to the prince. "I thank you for sparing my life, Wise Prince. I assure you, I will repay the favor with friendship."
"It is not friendship I desire," Tang replied. Deftly, he reached down and pulled Ruha's jambiya from its scab- bard, moving so swiftly and smoothly that she did not realize what he was doing until he held the weapon in his hand. "In Ginger Palace, you serve me, or you serve no
one."
Eight
^Gagged with her own silken veil k^ and forced to kneel upon the brick
^ ^ floor with her wrists bound behind her back to her ankles, Ruha glared at her captors. Tang and Wei Dao stood at the far end of a long lime-washed vault, mincing blossoms and filling the air with a tangy perfume as sweet as cassia. Though clean and tidy enough, the chamber was crammed with all manner of vats, ovens, and other spice-refining apparatus.
Tang and Wei Dao set their knives aside, then gath- ered up the minced blossoms and carried them to a large screw press in the corner. As soon as their backs were turned, the witch fixed her gaze upon a flickering oil lamp near the door and slipped her gag as the Harpers had taught her, by retracting her lower jaw until she could use her tongue to push it over her lip onto her chin. Beneath her breath, she uttered the incantation of a simple sun spell.
The flame coiled around itself, then leapt off the wick and pirouetted to the floor. Ruha tried to point toward a huge ceramic cask sitting in the corner but, with her hands tied behind her back, she failed miserably. The fire danced across the bricks toward a gleaming copper vat, which caught its light and sent a reddish glint skipping across the ceiling.
Wei Dao's head cocked slightly.
Ruha bent her finger sharply, directing the flicker toward a black iron caldron. She barely managed to guide the flame behind the pot's sheltering bulk before
Wei Dao turned to scan the ceiling. The witch tongued her gag back into place and waited until her captor's scrutiny fell on her, then glowered at the princess with a frown that she hoped would look as helpless as it did
hateful.
Wei Dao smirked at the witch, then allowed her gaze to roam across the room until it came to the unlit lamp. If she noticed the faint wisps of smoke still rising from the nameless wick, she paid them no attention. The concern vanished from her face, and she turned back to Prince
Tang.
"Thisss… dangerous, my husssband." Wei Dao spoke in Shou, unaware that a wind spell was carrying her voice to Ruha in the Bedine language. Unfortunately, the magic did not work well in the still air of the vault; the words were so breathy and soft that the witch sometimes missed them. "We ssshould… her and be done with it!"
"She ssserve us better alive." Tang turned the press screw, then glanced at Ruha and allowed his gaze to linger on her naked face for an indecent time, at least by
Bedine standards. "We have need o/'wu-jen."
"… much trussst in love potion!" Wei Dao pointed a dagger-sharp fingernail at her husband. "Witch use love magic on you, wise husssband."
Prince Tang shrugged. "It doesss not matter, as long as she love me more. We need wu-jen, and Ruha is wu-jen."