The Bastard’s Pearl

by Connie Bailey

  “How did you get here?” Luks asked.

  “I walked.”

  “Alone?”

  “Calm down. I’m fine. And I have a question. Why did I feel ill last night, but this morning, when the barbarian left, I felt fine?”

  “You had no reaction?”

  “Not exactly. I could feel it coming on, and I knew what to expect, so I was able to control it.”

  Luks muttered under his breath about some people’s luck and then raised his voice, changing the subject. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Sit, and I’ll pour khai for you. There’s a loaf already sliced on the table.”

  “I like you more and more,” Sheyn said as he sat and smeared honey on a thick piece of bread.

  “Then will you listen when I give you advice?”

  “If it’s good advice, but I have to say, you’re not all that well-informed.”

  “About what?”

  “When I ask about this magical bond you claim exists, you don’t have satisfactory answers.”

  “That’s not my fault. You’re just so… different. You’re not like any daaksi I’ve known or heard of. It’s as though the rules don’t apply to you.”

  “Well, that’s not very helpful, is it?”

  Luks ground his teeth and made an effort to answer pleasantly. “Will you at least listen? For safety’s sake, you shouldn’t walk around alone.”

  “I can defend myself.”

  “As you are? Against an armed man?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “You have too much pride,” Luks said as he handed Sheyn a cup. “Be careful, the khai is hot.”

  Sheyn sipped the steaming liquid. “It’s bitter,” he said and took another sip. “I like it.”

  Luks sat down and picked up his half-finished cup. “Why are you so determined to break the rules?”

  “I don’t even know them.”

  “When I try to explain them to you, you get angry.”

  “Then tell me whatever you wish. I’m content to sit here and break my fast.”

  “You mustn’t go around without an escort.”

  “Explain that further, if you will. Am I supposed to believe that my allure is so great that no man can resist it? I know I’m fairer than most, but I’m hardly irresistible.”

  “The spark of the Goddess’s fire that burns in you attracts all manner of men, but especially fighting men and other men of power. The danger of assault or abduction is very real. Some men cannot be deterred, not even by the severe punishment for such an offense. Some men would have to have you though it costs their lives.”

  “Are we so valuable?”

  “Beyond price.”

  “Is a mere physical function such as sex rated so highly here?”

  “It’s more than that. We’re not simply concubines. We bring luck to the man we bond with. Luck in battle. Luck in wealth. The man who possesses a daaksi has the Goddess’s favor.”

  “Luck,” Sheyn scoffed.

  “Do you believe in nothing beyond yourself and your five senses?”

  “Permission to enter,” a man said from outside.

  Luks and Sheyn looked up as a trooper drew back the tent flap.

  “The commander wants you,” the soldier said to Luks.

  “In what manner?” Luks asked.

  “He didn’t say, but I believe he wishes to impress the Muergathi dignitary with your beauty.” The soldier paused as if gauging how improper it would be to keep talking. “The talk between the nobles turned to daaksim, and the commander could see that the Muergathi was curious. The King of Muergath doesn’t have one, you see.”

  “I understand. Give me just a moment,” Luks said as he got to his feet.

  “What about me?” Sheyn asked.

  “The commander said nothing about you,” the soldier said, doing his best not to stare at the pale daaksi.

  “I’m going with you,” Sheyn told Luks as Luks wiped his face with a wet cloth.

  Luks ran his fingers through his mop of burnished curls. “You weren’t called for.”

  “I wasn’t forbidden to go, either.”

  Luks looked at the trooper. The trooper shrugged. “I suppose I can’t stop you,” Luks said. “But for the love of the Goddess, comb your hair.”

  “With what comb?”

  Luks sighed. “No time for it now, but when we return, I’ll comb and braid your hair for you.”

  Sheyn gathered the tangled strands at his nape and let them fall to the middle of his back. “I’m ready,” he said.

  “You’re hopeless,” Luks said as he tugged at Sheyn’s tunic, settling the folds into place. He sighed again. “In the past, you’d have been draped in silk and satin and cherished as a jewel beyond price, but look at you. You’re like a fine colt with burrs in his mane.”

  “Are you saying I chose a bad time to become a daaksi?”

  Luks smiled despite himself. “Yes, you did, foolish foreigner.” He turned to the soldier. “We’re ready.”

  The trooper held the tent flap open and gestured for Luks and Sheyn to precede him. Outside the tent stood another soldier. Accompanied by the two guards, Luks and Sheyn walked to the shade awning set up in front of the command tent.

  Kholya smiled when he caught sight of his messenger returning. “Ah, here we are,” he said. “Perhaps this will satisfy your curiosity.”

  “Thank you. As I said, King Kezlath doesn’t keep a daaksi, and I’ve never seen one in person.” Lord Beshar looked suitably impressed, and even the stone-faced leader of the Red Monks took notice from his position at Beshar’s back. Luks bowed gracefully and greeted the emissary with formal words that deepened Beshar’s appreciation of his beauty and demeanor. “I see the appeal,” Beshar said to Kholya. “I’m not a lover of boys, but he stirs me.”

  “Velvet is perfection, isn’t he?” Kholya said in a tone of slight boredom.

  “Are the legends true?”

  Kholya chuckled. “I can tell you he’s as sweet as honey and paradise lies between his thighs, but thus far, I’ve seen no evidence that he can predict the future, read minds, or shoot lightning from his eyes.”

  Beshar laughed. “What of the other one?”

  “Ah, that one.” Kholya looked at Sheyn. “That one can shoot lightning from his eyes.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like that. What nation is he from?”

  “He claims to be from Far West. I don’t know if I believe him, but it’s certain he’s not from Kandaar.”

  “Does he speak Andaar?”

  “He rarely stops.”

  Beshar smiled. “I wonder if I might speak with—” Kholya cleared his throat, and Beshar realized he’d overstepped bounds. “I wonder if Kandaar will always be separate. There are many, many Kandaarim who have no idea there’s a world beyond our borders. What’s your thinking on this, Commander?”

  “I think we’ve probably been isolated long enough, but it’s not up to me to open a road to the West. It would take more than one man to do that.”

  “I think it would depend on the man.” Beshar smiled again. “And now I must go and report to my king.” He rose to his feet. “Allow me to say it was a true pleasure to meet with you, Kholya of Savaan. You are a most unusual mercenary commander.”

  “Have you dealt with many?”

  “Sitting in the middle of the plains, Taar Muergan is an easy target for an army. I’ve negotiated with dozens of mercenary leaders as foes and as allies. You’re nothing like them.” Beshar paused. “But of course, you were a prince before you became a sword for hire.”

  “I’m still a prince. King Nakhol hasn’t renounced me.”

  Beshar bowed. “I didn’t mean to give offense.”

  “You meant to poke me a little and see if I’d jump.” Kholya took Luks by the wrist, pulling him into Beshar’s line of sight. “I’d do the same if I were in your boots. Go and give Kezlath your assurance that all is well.”
r />   Luks raised his head and met Beshar’s eyes.

  Beshar gazed into Luks’s melting eyes as he replied to Kholya. “Yes, I can see you’re a man to be trusted. I’ll tell His Majesty that he can go ahead with his plans.”

  Kholya ran his hand over Luks’s hair, drawing Beshar’s eyes. Beshar blinked and looked up at Kholya.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you also,” Kholya said as he rested his hands on Luks’s shoulders.

  Beshar bowed again. “The king will be very pleased with my report. He glanced at Luks and back up at Kholya. “Kezlath of Muergath is the true high king, and we will put the Crown of Kand on his head.”

  Kholya nodded and remained on his feet as Beshar left with his entourage. “Well done,” he said as he let go of Luks. “The Muergathi couldn’t take his eyes off the pair of you. I swear I could see his mind being swayed.”

  Luks bowed. “I’m glad we were of service.”

  “I’m seeing more and more advantages to having a daaksi around.” Kholya gestured to the honor guards. “These men will take you to my tent. I’ll try to think of a suitable reward for your assistance.” Kholya gave Luks and Sheyn a brief nod and went to the command tent.

  AS SOON as the Muergathim returned to Taar Muergan, the Red Monks split from Beshar’s party and marched directly to the temple. Mardjan left his men in the barracks and went to report to Chanesh. When he was admitted to the high priest’s chamber, he blurted out his news. “Reverend Lord, I’ve found him.”

  “Why didn’t you bring him to me?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “He belongs to the Bastard of Savaan.”

  Chanesh banged his withered fist against the table. “What jest is this?” He was quiet for a moment as he sucked his knuckles. “Why would Taankh show me the Gate and then make it so difficult to acquire?”

  “Our God tests us,” Mardjan said. “And I will not fail Him. Give me a few hours.”

  Chanesh nodded. “I’ll ready the Ritual of Summoning. Bring the daaksi to the Gate Chamber as soon as you have it in your possession.”

  Mardjan bowed and left the high priest’s office. Chanesh reached for a bellpull and called for one of his personal servants.

  “How may I serve?” Moksha asked as he came into the room.

  “Which one are you?” Chanesh asked brusquely as he rose from his chair.

  “Moksha, Reverend Lord.”

  “Moksha, I need the red-and-gold robe. Bring it to the antechamber of the Gateway.”

  Moksha bowed and hurried away, unhappy with his errand. Fetching a heavy, gem-crusted ceremonial robe was routine, but a visit to the Gateway area of the Temple was not. The acolyte was content with his clerical position. The Temple paid well and regularly, and as the oldest son in his family, it was his responsibility to help support his younger brothers and sisters. He had no wish to go any deeper into the mystical elements.

  Moksha entered the high priest’s chambers and went to the tall wardrobe. Carefully, he lifted out the Summoning regalia and laid it out on a table before calling for two novices. He supervised the younger boys as they took up the robe, sash, cape, and cap. He carried the ceremonial jewelry as he led them from the residential area of the Temple compound.

  “What are you whispering about?” Moksha said, turning to the give the boys a disapproving look.

  “Sorry,” the taller novice said. “Adjal is nervous and I was trying to calm him down.”

  “What’s the matter?” Moksha asked, bending to look Adjal in the eyes. “You can tell me.”

  Adjal glanced at his friend. “I don’t want to get in trouble, Ruernan,” he said.

  “I won’t tell anyone else,” Moksha assured him.

  “I don’t like going into First Temple. I’m afraid of it,” Adjal admitted.

  Moksha straightened up. “Of course you are,” he said calmly. “We’re all afraid of it, but it’s part of the Temple and it’s right in the center, so you’ll have to get used to walking through it once in a while.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boys said at the same time.

  “I know my words aren’t any comfort,” Moksha said. “But don’t feel as though you’re weak or cowardly for being scared. First Temple is a scary place.”

  “Why do we need it?” the taller boy asked, encouraged by Moksha’s kindness.

  “It holds the Gateway, the sacred door to the Shadoworld.”

  “Yes, we know. The priests taught us that,” Ruernan said as they began walking again. “But why do they want to bring Taankh’s Children from the Shadoworld into ours?”

  “It’s a sacrament.” Moksha’s tone said the conversation was over.

  Ruernan glanced at Adjal, and Adjal shrugged. He hadn’t really expected to get any answers from an acolyte. Only the most important priests knew anything. The rest of Taankh’s Servants did as they were told.

  Moksha walked faster and kept his mouth shut, though he was as uneasy as the pair of novices. He didn’t understand any more than they did why the priests were so set on bringing Taankh’s Children over the Threshold. He’d never seen a demon, but he’d seen depictions of them in some of Chanesh’s books, and he never wanted to see one in the flesh. Why would a God create beings so hideous to the eye? He shook his head as he broke into a trot. What business did he have questioning a God or His priests? His business was to do the High Priest’s bidding as quickly as possible.

  Chapter 12

  AFTER DISPLAYING their skill for the Muergathi emissary, the Black Hawk cavalry troop unsaddled their mounts and tended to them. Djenya led his horse over as Kashyan finished brushing Karkaran and gave the charger some feed.

  “I think we impressed the Muergathim,” Djenya said, leaning against his horse’s warm side as the animal ate. “Your brother isn’t called the Savaani Fox for no reason. He dazzled the envoy’s eyes and addled his brain. Why don’t you look happier about it?”

  “My daaksi…. Great Raas, I can’t believe I’m saying those words.” Kashyan took a deep breath and blew it out again. “I despise him, and yet, I yearn to be with him. My stomach is in knots, and I can barely keep from retching.”

  “You could call him Pearl like the Sumadi lad does,” Djenya suggested. “And the sickness will go away in time, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Pearl left my tent after I told him to stay.”

  “You aren’t surprised, are you?”

  “A little. A daaksi is supposed to obey his master’s orders. Where does he get the naaks to behave like that?” Kashyan shook his head. “And I’m not happy with Kholya, either. Parading daaksim around like that. Does he really think that’s wise?”

  Djenya shrugged. “I think he was using them the way they were intended to be used.”

  “That’s all well and good for him. He’s not bonded to one of them, is he?”

  Djenya put a hand on Kashyan’s shoulder and felt the tension in the hard muscles. “I’m sure that never occurred to him. He’s not used to thinking of you with a daaksi, and to be fair, you haven’t given Kholya any reason to believe you’re fond of Pearl.”

  Kashyan’s expression lightened, as Djenya hoped it would. “That’s true,” Kashyan said. “And now, I have the unappealing task of disciplining my daaksi.”

  “I know you’re capable of handling your own problems, but if I can be of any help to you, all you have to do is ask. I could hold him over my knees while you—”

  Kashyan cuffed the side of Djenya’s head. “Lecher.”

  “Monk,” Djenya retorted. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “I told you.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I’m not giving you fodder for future jokes at my expense. Find something useful to do.”

  “If you won’t entertain me, I’m going to find a dice game.” Djenya gave Kashyan a comic salute as he walked away.

  “I wish I could forget my troubles as easily as you, my friend,” Kashyan said as he left for Kholya’s tent.<
br />
  “WHY AREN’T you where I left you?” Kashyan asked as he walked into the tent.

  “I didn’t want to be there,” Sheyn answered.

  “I’m no happier about our situation than you are. But at least I have enough honor to fulfill my role.”

  Sheyn stood up. “Honor? Are you implying that a creature like a daaksi has such a thing as honor?”

  “Don’t use my words against me.”

  “Choose them more carefully, then.”

  Luks set his cup down with a loud rattling sound. “I’m sure I’m needed elsewhere.”

  “Wait,” Kashyan said. “You’re a sensible sort. Can you tell me how it’s possible for a daaksi to defy his master?”

  “I don’t understand it, lord,” Luks said. “Once there is a bond, a daaksi is subject to his master’s will. That has always been the way of it. I can’t explain Pearl’s willfulness.”

  “That’s not my name,” Sheyn said peevishly.

  “It is now, and it’s such a pretty name.” Kashyan smirked. “Pearl.”

  Sheyn gave the warrior a dark look.

  “He doesn’t understand our ways, lord,” Luks said apologetically.

  “So you’ve said. All right, then, you have one more chance to teach him. If Pearl can’t learn his place, I’ll turn both of you over to the Sumadinim when they come looking for vengeance.”

  “You can’t go five sentences without making a threat, can you?” Sheyn said.

  “If Pearl speaks again before I leave, I’ll punish you,” Kashyan told Luks.

  Sheyn clenched his jaw to hold in his response.

  “Are you hungry, lord?” Luks asked.

  “I’m eating with my men, but that was an excellent daaksi ploy to distract me from my anger at your friend.”

  “Do you wish Pearl to stay here until you return?”

  “Yes, I wish that, but I’ve never had much luck with wishes.” Kashyan gazed at Luks’s bowed head for a moment. “Did you want to say something else?”

  “Yes, lord. I’d like to speak about clothing.”

  Kashyan glanced at Sheyn. “His tunic’s too big.”