Desert Rose

by Marie Brown

in the known world."

  "Thanks. But let's get moving. Callie will be missing me."

  The words went straight through Lorrine's heart. Then they came back around and stabbed her in the gut.

  The pain and emotional anguish actually made her stagger a bit as she tried to follow Kama back out of the little room.

  She lost a few turnings, trying to regain her composure. Good thing she'd never have to navigate these halls on her own.

  She spotted her nearly forgotten travel pack, sitting slumped against the wall in the entryway. Then Kama took her right out of the school and into the evening, with long shadows stretching everywhere and the sun hanging low on the horizon.

  "It's almost chilly out here," Kama commented.

  There. Weather. Nice, safe topic. "It's freezing, compared to the Dargasi lands."

  Kama gave her a sharp glance. "Did you go there?"

  "I did," Lorrine nodded, although she suddenly wished she'd kept her mouth shut. Dargasi prejudices were, after all, the primary reason why they'd been apart the last two years.

  "What's it like?"

  "Hot. Very hot. Dry, windy, lots of sand. . . Karr'at is one of the loveliest places I've ever been. Looks like a big pile of rocks on the outside, but it's a beautiful and elegant palace on the inside."

  "I'd thought they kept all outsiders out. Did they decide half-blood is good enough?"

  "Er. . . I'm not a half-blood. Let's not talk about that, okay? It's a very uncomfortable subject."

  "Very well. Nothing about you is particularly comfortable. There's the inn."

  Kama indicated a rather prosperous looking building, tucked between two big monstrosities that looked like more academia.

  "Do you know anything about the trouble between Biao Tanu and your goddess?"

  "She's not my goddess. I still belong to Kerun of the Lights. But of course I know about the trouble. Don't you?"

  "I'm afraid I didn't get a history lesson before I found the priestess that saved my life," Lorrine said dryly. "Maybe educated folk know everything about every god and goddess out there. Me, I just know that when I was desperate, and driven right up to death's door by that damned geas, the power of Biao Tanu herself broke the geas and saved my life."

  Kama blushed a little as they entered the inn. "Sorry. Of course you're no religious scholar. It just seems a bit odd that a paladin knows so little of her own goddess."

  "Why do you keep calling me that? Paladins are everything I'm not. Noble, good, pure of heart, masters of weaponry. . . I'm just me."

  Kama laughed. "Of course you're you. But paladins don't need weapons to do the work of their deities, and no matter what your faults, you're not evil. There is no reason you can't be a paladin. But perhaps you should return to your priestess and learn about Biao Tanu."

  "Yeah." Lorrine sighed. "Look, Kama, will you please quit reminding me about that?"

  "About what?"

  Lorrine couldn't tell if her puzzled look were genuine, or all fake. "About how alone I'll be in but a few short moments, when you're gone."

  Fake, she decided. Kama lowered her eyes. Then, without a word, she sought out the innkeep and set to bargaining.

  "There. Are you happy now?" Kama said, when she'd handed over the money. "I've made arrangements for two dinners. I'll stay with you that long, only because I'm a little bit curious about your time with the Dargasi."

  Lorrine sighed again. Fine, prolong the agony. It might actually be better if Kama just left, akin to ripping the bandage off and getting it over with.

  "All right, then, ask away. What are you curious about?"

  They'd almost managed to strike a new balance by the time they'd eaten. They did, after all, have four annums of very close friendship to draw on, and only one disastrous fight. And a little bit of wine didn't hurt, either. This being a more prosperous inn, for well-off clients, their house wine tasted a good cut above the lousy swill most working-class inns sold.

  "Well," Lorrine said eventually, staring at her empty plate, "I guess there's no point sitting here around empty dishes."

  She stood up, and wobbled a bit. She wasn't drunk, but she could feel the alcohol. Kama giggled.

  "Bet you can't even remember which room is yours. Here, I'll walk with you. Make sure you don't fall down the stairs and break your silly neck."

  Lorrine wanted to say something, but she didn't. Instead, for perhaps the first time in her entire life, she kept her mouth shut and managed not to ruin the moment. She did laugh heartily, though, when Kama was the one who stumbled on the stairs.

  They reached Lorrine's assigned room without further incident. What a beautiful room. She could really get used to living like this, in elegance and luxury, as opposed to the dirt and discomfort of life on the road.

  "Nice place," Kama commented. She sat in a well-padded chair. "You'll pass a pleasant night, I'm sure."

  "Not half so pleasant as your girlfriend will, I'm sure." Lorrine tossed her pack on the bed and began rummaging through it. Stowed away amidst her few possessions, she found her night-robe and drew it out.

  "What's that?" Kama's voice sharpened with interest, and she left her chair to investigate the unfamiliar fabric. "I've never seen such a loose weave. Very nice dye job on this." She held the sleeveless robe up, inspecting the cut. "And such a different shape, as well."

  "The material is called gauze. It's what Dargasi women wear at night, when they're safely away from the eyes of their menfolk and feel free to be themselves." Lorrine swallowed hard, thinking of what went on in the women's apartments in the dark of night. "But speaking of different, tell me about your dress. I've never seen one like it."

  "Of course not," Kama said. "Callie and I designed this style just last year. See, the school offers education on sex and sensuality, and I discovered what a pain it is getting out of traditional clothing in a hurry."

  Lorrine felt her face turn deep, dark red at the thought of Kama getting out of her clothing in a hurry. Jealousy gnawed at her insides, which she recognized as not entirely rational. After all, she'd rejected Kama's love quite thoroughly, what right did she have to protest what a fully grown woman did with her body?

  "So I came up with this notion, and Callie made it happen. Watch."

  Her hand gave a sharp tug at the bow set to the side of her waist, and the dress fell open. Not all the way, just enough to make Lorrine go hot and prickly all over her body. Then Kama ran her hands down the front of the dress, demonstrating how it was really a single piece, kind of like a jacket, but not. The whole thing was held together by a wraparound tie.

  "Kama. . . "

  She kept all the important parts hidden. And she smiled. Oh, what a wicked smile. . .

  Lorrine gave up on self-control and kissed her. She held Kama close, feeling the slenderness of the woman through the thin fabric of the dress now hanging open between them. When had she lost so much weight? Not that Kama had ever been fat. Rather, she'd been like the perfect image of womanhood, all soft curves and beautiful, creamy smooth skin.

  Her skin was still smooth. Lorrine's hands demanded more, so she slipped them under the dress and explored the smooth, straight line of Kama's back.

  Then Kama broke abruptly away. "I can't do this, Lorrine! I just can't."

  Tears glittered in her eyes again as she retied her wrap dress with trembling hands. Then she bolted from the room, leaving Lorrine to collapse slowly on the bed.

  Lonely

  The next morning, after a night filled with tears and dreadful dreams of loss, Lorrine made her way to the bathhouse and cleaned herself up. Early. Ugh. So early, in fact, that the bakers were still up and about in the kitchen, and the sun had barely begun tinting the horizon pink. So she had the bathhouse to herself, and she appreciated that from a distance as she mechanically scrubbed herself down.

  Once clean, she returned to her room and took inventory of the contents of her pack. Not much in there, really, not much at all. She had the one set of clothing, leather trouse
rs and woolen shirt, her night-robe, a comb, and a little carved stone horse figurine Selima had gifted her. A blanket. Spare socks and a hair tie. She found a handful of coins down at the bottom, representing the last of her worldly worth. With luck, she'd be able to get enough trail food to return to the temple. Kama had that much right, at least. If everyone was going to insist she was a paladin, well, Lorrine wanted to learn a lot more about her goddess.

  She used the novelty of having a goddess to get her through packing her things away, dressing in her traveling garb with a grimace for its dirtiness, coming into contact with her clean skin.

  Lorrine had never followed a religion, with her parents coming from such differing backgrounds. She'd never even asked about the Dargasi gods in Karr'at, although she suspected her people were polytheistic, like most of the known world. Her father came from Shandar, though, where Soph ruled the countryside with a stern glare and no tolerance for interlopers. So, in the interests of family harmony, they'd agreed to set religion aside long before Lorrine's birth.

  She wondered, suddenly, if her mother had put aside her religion more to distance herself from what had happened to her at the hands of her own brother, than because she didn't want to fight with her husband. Possibly. It certainly came across clear enough that she didn't want anything to do with her history or heritage.

  Lorrine put aside wondering pointlessly about her mother's religion, or lack thereof, and slung her pack over her shoulders. It settled in with a familiar thump, although it felt far too light for