Everything, Melan said. Her eyes flicked to Shanvah and Sikvah, still hesitating, and her voice became a lash. Now!
A moment later, all three girls stood naked, and they were taken out the far side of the room into the baths, a great natural cavern lit by wardlights in the stone far above. The floor was tiled marble, deep with water. Ornate fountains kept the water moving, and the air was hot and thick with steam. It put even Kajivahs baths to shame.
There were dozens of girls in the water, ages ranging from children to just shy of a woman grown. All stood washing in the stone bath, or lounged on the slick stone steps at its edges, shaving and paring nails. As one, they looked up to regard the new girls.
Ashia and the others were no strangers to bathing alongside other girls, but there was a frightening difference between these baths and those in the womens wing of her fathers palacehere every girls head was shaved bald.
Ashia reached up, touching the lush, oiled hair she had cultivated for a lifetime, in hope of pleasing her future husband.
Melan caught the look. Enjoy the touch, girl. It will be your last for some time.
Her cousins gasped, and Shanvah put her hands to her head protectively.
Ashia forced herself to let go, dropping her hands to her sides, drawing a calming breath. It is only hair. It will grow back. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched her cousins calm as well.
Amanvah! Melan called, and a girl Sikvahs age came forward. She was too young for a womans curves, but her eyes and face were much as the Damajahs.
Ashia felt a wave of relief. Holy Amanvah was their cousin, firstborn daughter of the Deliverer and Damajah. Once, they had been as close as Asome and Asukaji.
Cousin! Ashia greeted her warmly, holding her arms out. It had been years since she had last played with Amanvah, but it did not matter. She was their blood, and would help them in this strange and unfamiliar place.
Amanvah ignored her, refusing to meet Ashias eyes. She was years younger and inches shorter than Ashia, but her bearing made it clear she considered her cousins beneath her now. She moved with liquid grace, stepping around the girls to face Melan, meeting the nieDamajitings eyes boldly for a Betrothed.
Here to study pillow dancing? she smirked. It was common for young women, mostly from poor families, to be taken into the palace for pillow dancing lessons before they were sold to the great harem. Some were returned to their fathers, brides that could bring a fortune in dowry.
Melan nodded. An hour each day. And an hour of singing. Another at writing, and a fourth to bathe.
And the other twenty? Amanvah asked. You cannot mean they will be granted the Chamber of Shadows. Ashias skin goosebumped at the name, and she struggled not to shiver despite the hot air.
But Melan shook her head. The other twenty, they will study sharusahk. They belong to Enkido.
There were gasps from some of the other girls, and even Amanvahs face lost its smug look.
Ashia suppressed a snarl. She was blood of the Deliverer. Enkido was but half a man. She might have to obey his instruction, but Nie take her before she think herself his property.
Shave them, and teach them the bido weave, Melan said.
Amanvah bowed. Yes, NieDamajiting.
Thank you, cous Ashia began, but as soon as Melan left, Amanvah turned away. She snapped her fingers, pointing to three of the older girls, who immediately went over to Ashia and the others, leading them to the water.
Amanvah went back to a group of other girls, resuming an idle conversation and totally ignoring Ashia, Shanvah, and Sikvah as the niedamating cut away their beautiful hair and shaved their heads. Ashia stared forward, willing herself not to feel the loss as her heavy locks fell away.
The niedamating came at her with a cake of soap and a razor next. Ashia froze as the girl lathered her scalp, wielding the blade with expert strokes.
Amanvah returned when they were finished. Kept her gaze above their heads, letting none meet her eyes. Dry off. She pointed to a pile of pristinely white, freshly folded drying cloths. Then follow.
Again she turned away, as Ashia and the others dried off and followed their haughty cousin back to the dressing area. Behind trailed the same three girls who had cut their hair.
Amanvah walked past the many rolls of white bido silk to a lacquered box at the far end of the chamber. You are not damating. She threw them each a roll of the black silk from the box. Unworthy to wear the white.
Unworthy, the older girls echoed at their backs. Ashia swallowed at that. Betrothed or not, they were blood of the Deliverer, not some common dalting.
Enkido was waiting for them when they emerged from the baths with thin, black silk scarves and robes over their bidos. Shanvah and Sikvah had stopped weeping, but still they clutched at each other, eyes on the floor.
Ashia boldly raised her gaze to meet the eunuchs eyes. She was blood of the Deliverer. Her father would cut off more than this mans cock if he dared lay a hand on her. She would not be afraid.
She would not.
The eunuch paid her no mind, staring instead at Sikvah, who shook like a hare before the wolf. He made a sharp, dismissive gesture. Sikvah only stared, uncomprehending, beginning to weep once more.
Enkido raised a finger sharply in Sikvahs face, causing the girl to gasp and stand up straight. Her eyes, wide with fear, crossed as they watched the finger.
Again, Enkido made the dismissive gesture. As if his finger in the air alone had been supporting her, Sikvah bent again, sobbing harder. This put Shanvah over the edge as well, the two of them clutching each other as they shook.
She doesnt understand what you want! Ashia cried. She couldnt tell if the eunuch was deaf as well as mute, for he did not look at her.
Instead, Enkidos hand whipped out, slapping Sikvahs cheek so hard her head struck Shanvahs and they were both driven hard into the wall.
Ashia was moving before she knew it, interposing herself between the eunuch and the other girls. How dare you?! she cried. We are princesses of the Kaji, blood of the Deliverer, not camels in the bazaar! The SharDama Ka will see you lose that hand.
Enkido regarded her a moment. Then his hand seemed to flicker, and she was launched backward, an odd tingling in her jaw. She heard more than felt the rebound of the rock wall as she struck it. The sound echoed in her head as she struck the floor, and she knew pain would soon follow.
But Shanvah and Sikvah needed her. She put her hands under her, struggling to rise. She was the eldest. It was her duty to
Her vision blurred at the edges, then darkened into black.
Enkido, Shanvah, and Sikvah were in the same positions when she woke. It seemed a mere eyeblink, but the dried blood caking her cheek to the marble floor told another story. The girls had stopped crying, standing with their backs straight. They watched her with terrified eyes.
Ashia managed to push herself up to her knees, then rose shakily to her feet. Her face throbbed with more pain than she had ever known. Rather than terrify her, the feeling made her angry. Perhaps he might strike them, but the half-man would not dare kill them. He was just trying to make them afraid.
She set her feet, daring once more to raise her gaze to Enkido. She would not be so easily cowed.
But the eunuch did not acknowledge her at all, simply turning away and walking down the hall, beckoning them with a wave.
Wordlessly, the girls followed.
Enkido stood before the three frightened girls in a large circular chamber lit only by dim wardlight. Like the rest of the underpalace, the floor and walls were stone, cut with wards and worn to a smooth polish by generations of use. The wards on the floor were arranged in concentric circles, like a marksmans target.
There were no furnishings save myriad weapons hanging from the walls. Spears and shields, bows and arrows, alagai-catchers and short melee knives, throwing blades and batons, weighted chains and other weapons Ashia could not even put a name to.
They had been forced to remove their robes again, placing them on hooks by the door, standing in only their bido weaves.
Enkido, too, wore only his bido. It was barely a strip of silk, for of course he had no manhood to cover. His muscular body was shaved smooth, covered in hundreds of tattooed lines and dots. It was a chaotic design, but Ashia sensed a pattern that was just beyond her ability to discern.
There was a riddle in them. The Riddle of Enkido. Ashia had always been skilled at riddling games. Riddles were taught to girls at a young age, that they might keep their husbands entertained.
The mute Sharum took a sharusahk pose. The girls looked at him blankly for a moment, but as his eyes darkened, Ashia took his meaning and assumed the same pose. Sharusahk was forbidden to dalting, but Ashia and her cousins had been taught dance as well as riddling. This was not so different.
Follow him, she told the others.
Shanvah and Sikvah complied, and Enkido circled them, inspecting. He grabbed Ashias wrist hard, pulling her arm straight as he roughly kicked her legs farther apart. She could feel his grip long after he let go and turned to Shanvah.
Shanvah cried out and hopped from the loud smack to the meat of her thigh, and then Enkido took the stance again. No fool, Shanvah was quick to resume her imitation. She was closer this time, but Enkido kicked her legs out from under her, dropping her to the floor. Sikvah jumped back at that, and even Ashia let her pose slip, turning to face them.
Enkido pointed at her, and that simple gesture made her heart stop. Ashia resumed her pose as Sikvah continued to back away. Eventually she fetched up against the wall and did her very best to sink into it like a spirit.
Enkido pointed at her, and that simple gesture made her heart stop. Ashia resumed her pose as Sikvah continued to back away. Eventually she fetched up against the wall and did her very best to sink into it like a spirit.
Once again Enkido took the pose, and Shanvah was quick to scramble to her feet and mimic him. Her feet were set correctly this time, but her back was not straight. Enkido grabbed the strands of bido silk that connected the weave around her shaved head to that covering her nethers. He pulled hard, pressing a thumb into Shanvahs spine. She cried out in pain, but was helpless to resist as he pulled her back straight.