Warmaidens

by Kelly Coon

  “This is perfect! Let’s get some food and get it up there, now.”

  From the corridor, sandals slapped against sandstone bricks, and we ducked behind a barrel of wheat as the older boy thundered past the room with a burly guardsman. After several beats, they left, but another pair of guardsmen marched past as an entourage of servers scuttled by, carrying platters of food. One tray dipped and wavered on a servant’s arm, and a dish of almonds mixed with dried, honeyed dates fell to the floor and scattered.

  “Watch what you’re doing, Sippar!” a boy servant screeched as the girl righted her tray and glanced fearfully at the mess on the floor. “Clean that up! And get back out to the cook and have her prepare another! These are for Lugal Uruku. He will not be happy with a delay.”

  Squatting farther down, I gnawed on my thumbnail. Getting up to Uruku’s corridor was going to be a real problem. “There are too many people around.”

  A clatter of guardsmen passing by the pantry doorway raised the hair on my neck, and I ducked.

  “No one will notice me. I’ll blend in.” Iltani got a wicked gleam in her eye, flicked her tunic back from her thigh, and exposed the dagger. “One way or another, he will be dead on this day.”

  My hair stood up on my head. “You’re just delivering the poison and then getting out of there. That’s it.”

  “I’ll do what it takes.”

  My heart sank. Because she absolutely would. And if he didn’t eat the food we laced, she’d plunge that dagger from her thigh into Uruku’s throat and be killed by the guardsmen herself.

  There was only one thing to do.

  “You’re not going up there. I am.” Voices sounded in the corridor, and we shrank from the noise.

  “Kammani, why?” Nanaea asked, eyes round.

  “Because I will follow the plan, and she will not.” I jabbed my shaking finger at Iltani’s chest.

  “Dagan would murder me if I let you go.” Iltani frowned.

  “Better to die at his hands than Uruku’s.”

  She pinched me. “You listen to me. I am going—”

  “In your own words, Iltani, shut up. I am doing this.” I stared at her hard until the smile melted off her face. But within seconds, she recovered.

  “Fine, but if you die, I wash my hands of guilt and refuse to mourn you. I’m swearing it now.”

  “That’s not even close to true.”

  “But you can’t go up there dressed like that.” Nanaea ran her hand down my silken tunic. “Only servants and guardsmen are going up there.”

  “Then make me a servant. I am, as Iltani said, plain. No one will remember me!”

  Hastily, Iltani and I exchanged tunics, and I loosened my braids down around my shoulders, pulling some tendrils around my face as the other servants’ hair had been a bit ragged. Nanaea reached into a flagon of oil and spattered some on my tunic as if I’d been cooking all day, then smeared some on my cheeks. She rubbed dirt from the floor under my eyes and cheekbones to make me look haggard and hungry.

  “You look the part, but what will the two of us be doing while you’re up there?” Nanaea inspected me, tugging the hem of my tunic this way and that.

  “You’ll be leaving and going to Assata’s to meet Dagan.”

  “Yes, the person who would pull out our toenails for abandoning you in the Palace.” Iltani shook her head. “No. Not happening.”

  Nanaea bit her lip. “We don’t have time to argue! Soon enough, the cook is going to come in here looking for replacements to make that dish, and we can’t be in here when they do.”

  I brightened. “That dish! The dates and almonds! That’s what I can take up there. The servants aren’t that far ahead of me.”

  We stood and Nanaea selected a small bowl similar to the one that had gone flying off the serving girl’s tray. Iltani and I ripped the tops off barrels and dug through sacks of grains looking for a replacement for Uruku’s meal. There were small pots of coriander, cumin, saffron, and fenugreek. Dried leeks and long stiff branches of rosemary. Dried, salted mutton and duck. In the back, there were casks of honey near the bags of lentils, and finally, the dried fruits.

  “Iltani, here!”

  We opened bags of figs, apples, apricots, and quinces until Iltani found the dates right by two casks filled to the brim with dried almonds.

  Perfect!

  We filled the little bowl with a mixture of the dates and almonds. With trembling fingers, I pulled out the blue bottle of gochala from Iltani’s bag. Carefully, I dripped four drops onto the nuts and fruit, trying to hide the poison as best as I could. Iltani yanked the gochala from my hand and spattered it all over the dish.

  “It needs to be disguised!” I hissed, and jerked the bowl away. When I did, I knocked the bottle out of her hands, sending it skittering into the corner of the room, end over end.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy. That was all of the poison we had! It had better work.” I scowled at Iltani, but she grinned wickedly.

  “I think we added enough.” Nanaea pried open the cask of honey and dipped into it with a finger, drizzling the sweet nectar over the top of the fruit until it looked appetizing.

  Wiping her hands on the front of my tunic, adding another note of authenticity, she smiled, wobbly and worried, with her dazzling white teeth.

  “Kammani, I bid you blessings for safety from Selu himself. I will do as you’ve said and will make sure Iltani and I get to Assata’s. She’ll hide us until Dagan comes.” She hugged me tightly.

  “It will be fine, Nanaea. I promise you.” Steadying my heart, I sank down onto my haunches, waiting until the corridor was clear to exit.

  “You’re gonna need more than blessings, Kammani.” Iltani pulled the dagger from her thigh and wrapped it tightly around my own. “If you have to use it, plunge upward, under the ribs until it pierces the heart.”

  “How in Selu’s name do you know that?” I frowned at her.

  She grinned, dimples slashed on her cheeks. She looked more dangerous than she ever had.

  “The Koru. You missed the lesson on stabbing a man to death, but I didn’t.”

  * * *

  No one was around. I took the back staircase and arrived at a long hallway that was once strung with beautiful handwoven tapestries under Lugal Marus’s watch. It was now painted in garish colors with murals of the gods feasting and dancing.

  The strap holding the dagger against my thigh chafed. My hands shook holding the bowl of poisoned treats. Would this work? What if I hadn’t used enough? What if Iltani had poured too much and he could taste it from the first bite and every single kitchen worker was killed for it?

  Do no harm.

  A final turn brought me to Uruku’s chamber, the door with the lion’s head and three blooms bringing back a floodgate of emotions. My grief as I’d learned that my abum had been murdered on the road to the Palace, by Uruku’s men, who knew my father would’ve figured out that Gudanna was poisoning Lugal Marus long before I did.

  The ache of desperation I’d felt when I knew I was losing Lugal Marus.

  The shock at seeing the streak of blue on my tunic when I’d discovered the monkshood flower crushed underneath a stool. The fear from the flash of Nasu’s sicklesword against Dagan’s throat when he’d sneaked into the Palace the night after we’d first kissed.

  All of it had happened right here at this door.

  And now it was flanked by a guardsman and a swarm of servers bearing their trays of delicacies.

  “Where are they?”

  The soft, lullaby-sounding question was followed by a crash, a meaty slap, and a high-pitched scream. A serving girl was flung from the door with a cry.

  “He wants the dish!” the girl barked to a serving boy. The boy just stared at her.

  “Go find out what’s taking so long!” she yelled, wiping blood from her
nose, and the boy immediately took off.

  I looked down at the bowl in my hands. I had to get it to Uruku before he or Sippar returned with a replacement!

  Taking two steps forward, keeping my head down, I willed my hands not to shake. My heart to still. The dates and almonds glistened in the honey, but underneath, poison that could end his life lay in wait.

  If it works. If a taster doesn’t eat it first.

  The thought stilled me. He could have a taster! I melted into the shadows, my nerves crackling under my skin.

  A child! A boy or girl stolen to be in the Palace and used expressly to ward off those with ill intent. Like me.

  Could I sacrifice a lamb to kill the wolf?

  No! I can’t!

  But, almost as if I was a puppet and someone else was pulling the strings, I found myself walking toward the doorway anyway, playing the odds like Iltani did when she gambled. Odds were good he didn’t have a taster. If he did, odds were good that the taster wouldn’t get one of the pieces with the poison. If the taster did eat one, odds were good that if they only ate one, they would be fine. They might suffer a severe headache from ingesting a little bit. Experience some vomiting. But they would be all right.

  It would be fine.

  It would.

  Kneeling down by the girl, angled away from the scent of rosemary and goat stew emanating from the doorway, I held out the bowl, my hands shaking so much I could barely hold the dish. “A replacement.” My voice was low, eyes averted.

  She looked up into my face in confusion, casting a sidelong glance at the other servants, and went to stick her finger into the dish as if to taste it, but I moved it out of her reach. “Do not touch,” I whispered. “These are for the lugal only.”

  Her eyes widened, but she must have seen something on my face that convinced her or was simply angry after being slapped, because she set her bloodied lips. “Give it to me. My many thanks.”

  “Hold here at the bottom,” I whispered, and pressed the dish into her small hands. She swallowed a look of terror that came over her. A shadow fell over my shoulder, casting the silhouette of a man against the wall, and at once I knew it was him. Uruku. The feeling of his slimy mouth on mine in the dungeon came reeling back like a shock of cold water. Ignoring the urge to wipe my lips clean from the memory of it, I held myself still in my squat, fear rattling my bones as he stood there, tapping his foot. Sighing impatiently.

  “My almonds, girl. Hand them to me.” When the girl didn’t immediately move, terror rooting her to her spot, he snapped.

  “Quickly!”

  I stilled my quaking, my head bowed, praying to Selu and Linaza and any other gods who could hear me that he would not recognize me. Would not even notice me cowering on the floor like a mouse afraid of being squashed.

  The girl struggled to stand upright, blood smeared on her cheek. She tried to wipe it away, but Uruku interrupted her.

  “No,” he said softly. “Leave it.”

  The girl cast her eyes to her feet. “My lord.” She held out the dish.

  “Ahhh, yes. There it is.” He eased the bowl away from her with long, clean fingers, and she dropped her hands to her sides. “Go now. Be gone. All of you.” The door squeaked on its hinges, but before it shut, a muffled voice echoed from within.

  “Wait.”

  It was a woman. All the hair on my head stood up. Gudanna.

  “I want to see the girl who brought the platter without it being complete.”

  Pulling my tendrils more closely around my face, I tried to shrink away into myself. Uruku might not remember my form, but Gudanna was different. As Nin Arwia’s former handmaiden, she’d seen me many times from a variety of angles throughout the Palace.

  The serving girl stood stiffly at my side, and several of the other servants fled down the back stairway. The others held themselves still in various states of movement, as Nanaea and I had playing statues as children. One touch and we’d freeze, giggling, trying not to move. The game was over when someone lost her footing.

  But this was not a game.

  The door squeaked open again and Gudanna’s voice echoed, her shadow fusing with Uruku’s on the wall in front of me.

  “Senseless girl,” she spat. The sound of a slap, and another, echoed through the corridor. Next to me, the girl was nearly knocked off her feet. “Remember your tasks next time or you shall be thrown in the Pit with the last one. Have I been understood?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Another slap echoed off the halls, and my fists bunched in my lap. I fought the urge to stand and defend her.

  Uruku’s voice murmured, “Remember to stay calm, darling. You shouldn’t fuss. Not now.”

  The shadows jerked apart.

  “I am fine, I have told you.” Gudanna’s voice carried a touch of annoyance. “Now get off the floor or you’ll be cleaning it with your tongue.”

  My body began to tremble when I realized she was talking to me.

  I rose slowly, keeping my head down, Gudanna’s heavy breathing the only noise in the hallway. She sounded…ponderous, the way her voice hitched. Uruku shifted and light from their chamber threw her shadow on the wall again, showing off a large, round belly.

  She was with child. Uruku wanted her to be calm because she was with child! My heart fluttered. If she ate the almonds, she would die, and so would the baby.

  An innocent sacrificed for crimes it hadn’t committed!

  Shame bubbled up inside me as bile climbed into my throat. There was nothing to do now. Nothing at all. I couldn’t take it back.

  Do no harm.

  “Now be gone! All of you rats go back to the kitchens!” Gudanna’s voice was like a whip cracked over the top of a horse, and I fled, jogging toward the staircase, anxiously trailing behind those who would not hurry enough.

  Move! Move!

  But had I not been last, had I not been willing the servants to move faster down the stairs, my body pleading by its proximity, I may not have heard the sound that brought hope, then thunderous guilt, into my chest: the distinct crunch of someone biting down on a handful of almonds.

  But I couldn’t look back to find out who it was.

  WHEN I FLED the Palace, sticking to the side streets and keeping my head down, I was exceedingly thankful for my plain face.

  No one paid any attention to me as I ducked past rows of houses until I saw Assata’s Tavern. Creeping past empty barrels stacked behind, I creaked open the door into the dim storage room to find Dagan pacing, his face constricted in worry.

  “Selu be praised!” he exploded, pulling me into a tight hug as soon as I stepped inside. I shook in his arms as he pushed the door closed behind us and locked it.

  Sitting in the corner on stools were Nanaea, her beard in her hands, and little Rish, whose face was twisted in pain. Next to them were my healing satchel and Iltani’s bag from the marketplace.

  “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay,” Dagan murmured into my hair. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “I’m fine.” My body quivered with relief that I’d made it out of there alive.

  “Did you succeed?” he asked. “I was terrified for you when Nanaea told me what you were doing. You were in the Libbu to get information so we could all sit and plan something carefully together, not act on a whim!”

  Whether he agreed with what we’d done or not, I could not squash the surge of pride in my chest that I’d accomplished it. “Yes,” I said, my throat tightened around my words. “He ate the poisoned almonds. Whether he eats enough, we will have to see.”

  And whether it was actually him remains to be seen as well.

  He kissed my forehead. After a moment, he released me. “That’s all we can do at this point, then. We will wait. And we will pray to Selu that it works.”

  I looked behind him to Nan
aea and Rish.

  Prickles ran up into my hairline.

  “Wait a minute. Where’s Iltani?”

  Nanaea lowered her eyes.

  The prickles turned into fear.

  “Nanaea? Where is she?”

  “It isn’t my fault.” She pulled her curls over one shoulder and twisted them nervously. “Iltani ran off the second we left the Palace, and I couldn’t keep up. I looked for her, but a guard walked by and I was afraid he’d recognize me. So I came back here, figuring she’d meet up with us like she was supposed to.”

  “What?” I whispered.

  She winced. “You didn’t see her?”

  “No! I was busy trying to assassinate the lugal!” I hissed.

  “You know how Iltani can be,” Dagan said.

  “I know. I know. I just wanted someone to keep an eye on her. She hasn’t been right lately.” I chewed my thumbnail. “You have no idea where she went?”

  “I don’t. I’m sorry,” Nanaea whispered. “I tried to follow, but she is so fast. She lost me on purpose.”

  That absolutely frustrating, lovely idiot. Where had she gone? Anything could have happened to her!

  I closed my eyes, trying to block her possible fate out of my mind. “It’s all right. We’ll find her.” It wasn’t all right, of course, but when Iltani wanted something, there was no stopping her. “She must have tried to do something herself. I hope to the gods she wasn’t stupid.”

  “She’s too wild for her own good.” Dagan rubbed my shoulders. The sounds of tavern-goers on the other side of the wall told of a subdued group. More eating and drinking in silence or soft chatter than laughing or playing dice as they might have in the past.

  “Did you have any success with Ensi Puzu?” I asked Dagan as he sat heavily next to Rish.

  “Some. He was astounded that Arwia wasn’t dead. Said the entire city believes she passed with her abum into the Netherworld because she went into the tomb with all of you.”

  “So we were right on that account. Did he say he’d support her?”

  “Yes. With delight, since by law, she has claim to the throne. He will not provide aid in helping to assassinate Uruku, though. He says he has no interest in getting his hands dirty in that way.”