“Why play such cruel games?” Jardir asked. “Why not just have one of you cut my throat as we lay in the pillows?”

“Because it didn’t want to kill you,” Inevera said. “It’s more afraid of your power to inspire than to fight, and none inspires more than a martyr.”

“Better to discredit you and splinter the unity of your forces,” Leesha put in.

“But you are the Shar’Dama Ka,” Inevera said. “There can be no further question, with Alagai Ka dead at your hand.”

Jardir shook his head. “That was not Alagai Ka. It was too easy. More likely, this was the least of his princelings. There will be more, and greater.”

“I think so, too,” Leesha said, looking at Jardir. “Which is why I’m holding you to your promise, Ahmann. I have seen Everam’s Bounty, and now I wish to return home. I must prepare my people.”

“You do not need to go,” Inevera said, and Leesha could tell how hard the words came to her. “I will have you as one of my husband’s Jiwah Sen.”

“A ‘lesser’ wife?” Leesha laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I will still make you my Northern Jiwah Ka, if you wish it,” Jardir said. Inevera scowled.

Leesha smiled sadly. “I would still be one of many, Ahmann. The man I wed will be mine, alone.” His face fell, but Leesha held firm, and Jardir nodded finally.

“The Hollow tribe will be honored regardless,” he said. “I cannot prevent the tribes from trying to steal a few of your wells, but know that they will be subject to my wrath should they war upon you.”

Leesha dropped her eyes, afraid she might cry if she saw the sadness in his eyes any longer. “Thank you,” she said tightly.

Jardir reached out, touching her shoulder and squeezing gently. “And I…apologize, if what happened in the Palace of Mirrors was not your own will.”

Leesha laughed out loud, all fear of tears gone. She threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the cheek.

“We did that in the light of day, Ahmann,” she said with a wink.

“I am saddened to see you leave, mistress,” Abban said a few days later, as his wives packed up the last of the endless gifts Jardir had bestowed. “I will miss our conversations.”

“And miss having the Palace of Mirrors to hide the comeliest of your wives and daughters from the dal’Sharum?” Leesha asked.

Abban looked at her in surprise, then bowed, smiling. “You’ve learned more of our tongue than you let on.”

“Why don’t you just tell Ahmann?” Leesha asked. “Let him discipline Hasik and the others. They can’t just go around raping whomever they want.”

“Your pardon, mistress, but the law says they can,” Abban said. Leesha opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “Ahmann’s power is not as absolute as he thinks. Disciplining his own men over a khaffit’s women would sow discord among the men he trusts to carry spears at his back.”

“And that’s more important than the safety of your family?” Leesha asked.

Abban’s eyes grew hard. “Do not assume you understand all our ways after living among us a few weeks. I will find a way to protect my family that doesn’t threaten my master.”

Leesha bowed. “I’m sorry.”

Abban smiled. “Repay me by letting me build a pavilion in your village. My family has one with every tribe, to trade in goods and livestock. Everam’s Bounty has more grain than it needs, and I know there are hungry mouths to the north.”

“That’s kind of you,” Leesha said.

“It is not,” Abban replied, “as you will see when my wives haggle with your people for the first time.” Leesha smiled.

There was a call from outside, and Abban limped over to the window and looked down into the courtyard. “Your escort is ready. Come, and I will see you down.”

“What happened between Ahmann and the Par’chin, Abban?” Leesha asked, unable to contain herself any longer. If she did not learn the answer now, she likely never would. “Why did Ahmann seem angry that you mentioned him to me? Why were you afraid when I told you I mentioned him to Ahmann?”

Abban looked at her, and sighed. “If I will not put my master at risk for the sake of my family, what makes you think I will do it for the Par’chin?”

“Answering my question puts Jardir at no risk, I swear,” Leesha said.

“Perhaps it does, and perhaps not,” Abban said.

“I don’t understand this,” Leesha said. “You both claim Arlen was your friend.”

Abban bowed. “He was, mistress, and because it is so, I will tell you this much: If you know the son of Jeph, if you can get word to him, tell him to run to the end of the world and beyond, because that is how far Jardir will go to kill him.”

“But why?” Leesha asked.

“Because there can only be one Deliverer,” Abban said, “and the Par’chin and Ahmann have…disagreed before, as to who it should be.”

Abban went right to Jardir’s throne room from the Palace of Mirrors. The moment Jardir saw the khaffit, he dismissed his advisors, leaving the two men alone.

“She has left?” he asked.

Abban nodded. “Mistress Leesha has agreed to allow me to set up a trading post for the Hollow tribe. It will help facilitate their integration, and give us valuable contacts in the North.”

Jardir nodded. “Well done.”

“I will need men to guard the shipments, and the stores at the post,” Abban said. “Before, I had servants for such heavy duty. Khaffit, perhaps, but fit men.”

“Such men are all kha’Sharum now,” Jardir said.

Abban bowed. “You see my difficulty. No dal’Sharum will take orders from khaffit in any event, but if you would allow me to select a few kha’Sharum to serve me in this regard, it would be most satisfactory.”

“How many?” Jardir asked.

Abban shrugged. “I could make do with a hundred. A pittance.”

“No warrior, even a kha’Sharum, is a pittance, Abban,” Jardir said.

Abban bowed. “I will pay their family stipends from my own coffers, of course.”

Jardir considered a moment longer, then shrugged. “Pick your hundred.”

Abban bowed as deeply as his crutch allowed. “Will your promises to the mistress of the Hollow tribe alter your plans?”

Jardir shook his head. “My promises affect nothing. It is still my duty to unite the people of the Northland for Sharak Ka. We will march on Lakton in the spring.”

CHAPTER 33

A PROMISE KEPT

“WHY ALL THESE RAFTS, if there’s a perfectly good bridge?” Renna asked, gesturing toward the nameless collection of huts, too few to even be called a hamlet. Each tiny structure had a raft out by the water, surrounded by wards staked into the bank of the Dividing.

A few demons prowled the area, testing the wards on the huts, but Renna was wrapped in her warded cloak, and Arlen radiated such power that the occasional hiss and eye contact were enough to keep the corelings back from him as they walked along the riverbank.

“Merchants who don’t want the bridge guards rooting through their goods sometimes pay raftsmen to take them across the Dividing,” Arlen said. “Usually because they’re carrying something, or someone, they shouldn’t.”

“So we can hire one?” Renna asked.

“Could,” Arlen said, “but that would mean waiting till dawn and dealing with more rumors. Can’t swing my arm in these parts without hitting someone who acts the fool ’cause they think I’m the Deliverer.”

“Don’t know you like I do,” Renna smirked.

“There,” Arlen said, pointing to a raft big enough to carry Twilight Dancer comfortably. There was a great groove in the riverbank where it was hauled up and down each day. He handed Renna one of his ancient gold coins. “Go and leave this by the door.”

“Why?” Renna asked. “It’s new moon. He ent gonna see us take it, and even if he hears, he sure as the sun ent gonna cross his wards to run after us.”

“Ent thieves, Ren,” Arlen said. “Smuggler or no, someone earns their keep with that raft.” Renna nodded and took the coin, leaving it on the hut’s doorstep.