The Fire Seer and Her Quradum

by Raby, Amy

  “Tufan’s house has an ant problem?”

  “It has a people problem,” said Mandir.

  “I don’t see a bar to put over the door.”

  “There isn’t one,” said Mandir. “Tufan doesn’t want his children—or his guests—locking him out.”

  “Well, that’s ominous.” Taya went to her saddlebag and fished out some dried lamb strips and hard-cooked bread, their travel rations. “I take it we’re not eating the food here?”

  “No,” said Mandir.

  They had two weeks’ rations left, which should be more than enough for them to speak to Setsi, persuade him to come with them, and make the journey back to Rakigari Temple.

  “Did you just toss your saddlebag on the floor?” asked Mandir.

  She glanced up. “What of it?”

  Mandir swept it up and carried it to a cabinet, where he arranged it on a shelf next to his own bag.

  Taya smiled. It was going to be interesting sharing a room with Mandir the fastidious. “What’s the plan for tomorrow? We interview Setsi?”

  “Yes, and with any luck we’ll convince him right away and be on the road before lunchtime,” said Mandir.

  Taya hoped so. She pulled a chair up to the table provided for them and set down her food. “Do you think we can trust the water?”

  “No,” said Mandir. “And you wouldn’t want to. It’s river water; tastes awful.”

  “We could boil it.” With fire magic, that was easy to do.

  “Won’t necessarily make it safe. And it definitely won’t make it taste better.”

  With a sigh, Taya retrieved her copper cup and began to swirl it, summoning water. It was tedious work, pulling enough moisture out of the air to fill a cup, but such magically summoned water had the advantage of being absolutely safe to drink, even without boiling.

  Mandir disappeared into the washroom and then reappeared. He fetched his own rations from his saddlebag, and his copper cup, and joined her at the table. He began to summon water of his own.

  Taya forced down some of her jerky. She hated eating cold, dry food; nourishing though it might be, it wasn’t satisfying, and it left her mouth parched. “Who do I need to watch out for while I’m here? Who’s the most dangerous?”

  “Yanzu, obviously,” said Mandir. “Tufan. Runawir.”

  “Runawir seems decent enough,” said Taya.

  “He puts up a good front,” said Mandir. “But underneath, he’s every bit as nasty as Yanzu. Shardali is easily cowed but can be underhanded and sneaky. The woman is probably no threat at all, and as for the boys—Ilinos, Setsi, and Nindar—I really don’t know.”

  “It sounds like I have to watch out for almost everyone.”

  “That would be wise,” said Mandir.

  When they’d finished their sad dinner, they stripped down to their underclothes and climbed into bed. As she burrowed under the blankets, Taya felt her heart beat faster. Though she and Mandir had been physical many times on the road from Hrappa, and again on the way here, she’d only shared an actual bed with him twice before, once in Mandir’s guest house on their last night in Hrappa and once in Rakigari Temple. It was weird sleeping together in such a hostile and dangerous place.

  Even so, she wanted Mandir and the release he could give her.

  While she was considering whether to reach for him, Mandir slipped an arm around her and pulled her toward him. “Is this all right?” he asked softly.

  “Very much so.”

  He tucked her against his chest so that they were in a spooning position, and let out a deep sigh.

  Taya waited for his hand to stroke her or to cup her breast, but it didn’t happen. Perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable initiating sex in a place such as this. In that case, she would do it. She turned her head so that their lips met and kissed him. Mandir responded with a rumble of pleasure deep in his chest. She took his hand and directed it to her breast.

  For a moment he obliged, stroking and kissing her. But then he pulled away.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, it’s...” His voice sounded tight, and he hesitated. “I don’t think I can do this here.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “Are your brothers listening?”

  “They might be,” said Mandir. “But that’s not it. I’m just not in a state...flood and fire, this is hard to explain. What I mean is I’m not sure I can perform, here in my father’s house.”

  “Oh.” It had nothing to do with her personally, then; it had to do with his history, the abuse he’d suffered and inflicted on others as a boy in this household. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a little small at his rejection. She scooted over onto her side of the bed.

  “Can I still hold you?” he asked. “I think I’d sleep better.”

  Taya hesitated, sorting through her feelings. She hated this place. She didn’t feel comfortable here, but for Mandir, staying here had to be a good deal more complicated than it was for her. He’d grown up in this house. He had an ugly history with most of his family members. If he was having some problems coping, the kindest thing she could do was to support him however she could, even if it meant she couldn’t have everything she wanted from him.

  “Of course.” She snuggled back up to him.

  He let out a shaky breath, and after a moment or two, she felt his body relax. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drop off to sleep.

  Chapter 7

  In the middle of the night, Taya woke with a start. In her dream, she’d heard screaming. Now she was relieved to find herself in a quiet room, lying in bed with Mandir’s arms wrapped around her. Both of them were sweating a little from the heat. Mandir’s breath came heavy and slow.

  She closed her eyes and was beginning to drift off again when she heard the sound a second time, and not as part of a dream.

  “Mandir.” She tapped him on the arm.

  He woke instantly, swinging out of bed and onto his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard someone scream.”

  “Oh.” He cocked his head to listen. “Ignore it. Nothing we can do.”

  Taya climbed out of bed and padded softly toward the door, where she could hear a little better. She heard the muffled sounds of two people arguing. She couldn’t make out the words, but both people sounded angry. One might have been a woman; she wasn’t sure.

  Mandir walked up beside her. After a moment, he said, “I hear it.” He rested his hand on the small of her back.

  She wasn’t sure if his gesture was meant to be protective or reassuring. “They’re arguing now. Earlier, somebody screamed.”

  “One of those voices is Tufan’s,” said Mandir.

  “You can tell?”

  “Of course.”

  Taya continued to listen. If it was just an argument, she had no business intervening. But the earlier scream had suggested violence.

  Now she heard a third person, sobbing.

  Mandir’s shoulders slumped as he retreated from the door. “Come back to bed.”

  “I want to know what’s going on,” said Taya.

  “These things go on every night here, and every day.” Mandir climbed back into bed and lifted the blankets to create a space for her. “It’s pointless to listen, since there’s nothing you can do.”

  “Maybe there is something I can do.”

  “Tufan is protected by the crown,” said Mandir. “He’s killed people before, and nobody can bring charges against him, least of all the Coalition.”

  Taya sighed. Mandir was right; she didn’t want to spark another war between the crown and the Coalition. Still, the situation nagged at her. “It feels wrong to abandon these people to their fate. We didn’t do that in Hrappa.”

  “We were dealing with ordinary people in Hrappa, not a prince of the realm. Do you think I’m easily frightened? Do you think any ordinary circumstance would make me hesitate to intervene?”

  “No.” She did not doubt Mandir’s courage. He knew this place better than she did, and if he
said there was nothing they could do, he was right. Still, her body itched with the desire to find the screaming and crying people and do something.

  Instead, she returned to bed and climbed under the blankets with Mandir. It was a long time before she dropped off to sleep again.

  ∞

  Mandir woke long before the sun rose, which was unusual for him. Being in his father’s house had thrown his body’s rhythms out of kilter. The incident during the night had made it clear that his father’s house hadn’t changed at all since he’d left. Tufan still amused himself by mistreating his children, and he was almost certainly assaulting the pregnant woman.

  As a boy, Mandir had spent many a night lying in his bed and hearing the screams. Tufan would grow angry and violent when he couldn’t perform sexually, and then he would cast the blame on his victim.

  That was the environment in which Mandir’s budding sexuality had emerged. He hadn’t involved himself with Tufan’s women at all—among other reasons, he was too young—but he’d sprouted erections at inopportune times, while listening to things that ought not to have aroused a decent man. He still struggled with it, the fact that just thinking about dominating a woman could get him excited. Holy Mothers, he was a mess.

  And now Taya had some idea of what a mess he was. When she’d made sexual advances last night, he’d panicked and turned her away. He couldn’t be sexual here. His head was full of bad memories, and on top of that he might get excited by the wrong thing. He’d worked so hard to gain control of himself, to be a good lover to Taya, to refrain from doing or saying anything that might frighten her or remind her of the old Mandir, whom she’d rightfully hated.

  At least she didn’t know the whole of it. What would she think of him if he admitted that sometimes he fantasized about being a little rough with her in bed? Not hurting her, just being a little more forceful. Maybe holding her down. Restraining her.

  Mandir squeezed his eyes shut. Stop thinking about it, you degenerate, he told himself. There’s so much Tufan in you, still.

  Taya slept soundly in his arms. She’d taken a while to fall back asleep after the incident during the night; he’d been awake even longer. Now she slept the sleep of the innocent, and he envied her.

  Despite his reluctance to bring Taya anywhere near Tufan, he appreciated her presence, both for the emotional comfort she provided and because she was his perfect counterpart for a mission such as this. Mandir had deep knowledge of Tufan’s household and the people living in it, but that wasn’t necessarily an advantage. Painful memories cluttered every corner of this household, like cobwebs in his head. But Taya had no cobwebs. With her fresh eyes and outsider’s perspective, she might be able to see things that he couldn’t.

  He waited until the sun cleared the horizon and the birds began to sing outside their window. Then he gently woke her. The morning was cool, while the empty skies promised a blistering heat later in the day. They ate a breakfast of hardtack and jerky and summoned water, same as last night’s dinner. When they’d finished, he took Taya’s arm and led her out of the quiet house and across Tufan’s grounds.

  “Where are we going?” she whispered.

  “The stables.”

  “To check on the horses?”

  “Nindar works there,” said Mandir. “And Runawir said that Setsi and Nindar are friends. If we go there under the pretense of checking on the horses, we might find Setsi without having to bother with the others.”

  “Right,” she said. “Though after everything that’s been said about your father, I’ll be disappointed if we never lay eyes on him.”

  “If you knew him, you would not say that.”

  The stable doors had been flung open to let in the sun. Unlike Tufan’s silent, sleeping house, this place bustled with activity. The horses paced in their stalls, whickering. Clearly it was feeding time. Mandir followed the horses’ eager gazes to the boy Nindar, who limped along the aisle, carrying a bucket.

  When Nindar spotted Mandir and Taya, he started so violently that he dropped his bucket. Grain spilled over the floor.

  “Sorry,” said Taya. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  The boy stared at them wide-eyed as if trying to decide whether to stand his ground or flee. Finally, he gulped and knelt down to pick up the spilled barley.

  Mandir and Taya joined the boy on the floor, scooping up barley and putting it back in the bucket. The hard-packed dirt was well swept, making it easy to recover the spilled grains.

  Once the bucket was full again, Nindar seized it and hobbled away as fast as he could.

  Mandir frowned. The boy hadn’t said a word.

  Taya was walking down the stable aisle, peering into each stall.

  Mandir hurried to catch up with her. “Looking for Soldier?”

  “And the blood bay. I didn’t expect the stable to be such a nice one.”

  He might not have noticed if Taya hadn’t pointed it out, but the stable was more pleasant than the main house. The building was in fine condition, clean and airy and sweet-smelling. He saw only a few piles in the stalls, which meant someone was cleaning them frequently. The stable hadn’t been this well kept when he’d been a boy, so the difference had to be Nindar, or perhaps Setsi.

  A gray horse poked his nose over the stall door.

  “There you are,” said Taya, reaching out to pet him. “And here’s your blood bay, next door.”

  Mandir wasn’t affectionate with his horse, but he felt awkward just standing in the aisle while Taya cooed to Soldier. He went to the door of the blood bay’s stall to see if the horse would come over for petting the way Soldier had.

  The blood bay just eyed him. Oh well.

  “This one is yours?” asked Nindar from behind them.

  Mandir turned. So the boy did speak—when he felt like it.

  “Yes,” said Taya. “His name is Soldier.”

  “I was wondering how you wanted me to feed him,” said Nindar. “He’s thin.”

  Taya nodded. “He was in that condition when I bought him last week—worse, actually. I don’t know him well enough yet to know the best way to feed him. But I want him to put on weight.”

  “Does he do well on barley?” asked Nindar.

  “I think so,” said Taya. “And grass.”

  “What’s the name of this one?” Nindar peered into the blood bay’s stall.

  “He doesn’t have a name,” said Mandir.

  Nindar gave him a disapproving look. “Every horse should have a name.”

  Taya had told him the same thing a couple of times. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “He’s a nice horse,” said Nindar. “And that gray one, Soldier—he’s got a wonderful disposition.”

  “Doesn’t he?” Taya gushed. She immediately launched into the story of where she’d bought him and how.

  Mandir tuned out their conversation and looked around. There were over a dozen horses in residence, including Soldier and the blood bay. More horses than Tufan needed, but the man had always been inclined toward excess. They seemed reasonably happy and in good flesh except for one, an elegant and nervous-looking chestnut mare.

  Mandir was getting a sense of Nindar’s character. The boy might be fearful, but as long as he was talking about horses, he wasn’t shy. He took great interest in Taya’s story.

  “You want to meet the other horses?” Nindar was asking Taya. “I could show you around.”

  “Actually, we’re looking for Setsi,” said Mandir. “We need to talk to him.”

  “I thought you might,” said Nindar. “He’ll be here in half an hour, for the tutor.”

  “Tutor?” inquired Taya.

  “Tufan employs a tutor to educate his children,” Mandir explained.

  “Oh.” Her brows rose. “Well, if we have half an hour before Setsi arrives, why don’t you show me around, Nindar?”

  As they set off, Mandir settled onto a bale of straw to wait.

  Chapter 8

  Taya spent an enjoyable half
hour being led around by Nindar as he expounded on each of the animals in his charge.

  “I’m worried about this mare,” he said, leading her to the final stall, which held the elegant chestnut. “She’s nervous. See how she paces back and forth in her stall, even with food in her bucket? I can barely keep weight on her. I’m afraid my father may dispose of her.”

  “You mean sell her?”

  “Tufan never sells his horses,” said the boy.

  Taya blinked. “So he’ll kill her if she doesn’t work out?”

  “My father says a horse needs to be obedient no matter what. This mare, though—she’s not willful. She doesn’t want to be bad. She just gets scared.”

  “Have you ridden her?”

  “A few times,” said Nindar. “We just got her, and she has some problems I need to work through. But I don’t think I can make her into what Tufan wants her to be.”

  Taya hadn’t expected to like anyone at Tufan’s, after what Mandir had told her about his brothers, but she did like Nindar. He couldn’t be more than nine or ten years old, but he spoke like an adult. Nothing about Nindar put her in mind of Yanzu or Runawir or even Mandir; it astonished her that all four of them could have been sired by the same man.

  She hated that he would have to grow up here. Could they take him away as well as Setsi?

  She heard Mandir rising from his hay bale and turned to see a new boy entering the stable. He was an adolescent, awkward in his proportions and just beginning to put on some height. This must be Setsi. Taya hurried to Mandir’s side.

  “I know who you are,” Setsi was saying. “I see your green and silver, so you’ve come because of my Gift. But I can’t leave this place.”

  “Let’s have a talk about that,” said Mandir.

  “Not now,” said Setsi. “I’ve got lessons this morning.”

  “Your tutor isn’t here yet. My name is Mandir, and this is my partner, Taya. I used to live in this household, until I was about your age. Are you Tufan’s child?”

  “As far as I know,” said Setsi.

  “Then we are brothers,” said Mandir.