Everam take me now! a man cried desperately. I will not live a cripple!
Step carefully, Damating Qeva warned. The soles of your feet are not worthy to touch the blood honoured warriors have spilled for your sake.
Inevera and her mother eased their way around the stained canvas to come before the damating. Clad from head to toe in white silk with only her eyes and hands uncovered, Qeva was tall and thick of frame like Melan, but with a womans curves.
What is your name, girl? The Bride of Everams voice was deep and hard.
Inevera vah Kasaad amDamaj amKaji, Damating, Inevera said, bowing deeply. Named after the First Wife of Kaji. Manvahs nails dug into her shoulder at the addition, and she gasped involuntarily. The damating seemed not to notice.
No doubt you think that makes you special. Qeva snorted. If Krasia had a warrior for every worthless girl who has borne that name, Sharak Ka would be over.
Yes, Damating, Inevera said, bowing again as her mothers nails eased back.
Youre a pretty one, the damating noted.
Inevera bowed. Thank you, Damating.
The harems can always use a pretty girl, if shes not put to good use already, Qeva said, looking at Manvah. Who is your husband and what is your profession?
DalSharum Kasaad, Damating, Manvah said, bowing. And I am a palm weaver.
First Wife? Qeva asked.
I am his only wife, Damating, Manvah said.
Men think they take on wives as they prosper, Manvah of the Kaji, Qeva said, but the reverse is true. Have you tried to secure sister-wives, as prescribed in the Evejah, to help with your weaving and bear him more children?
Yes, Damating. Many times. Manvah gritted her teeth. Their fathers would not approve the match.
The Bride of Everam grunted. The answer said much about Kasaad. Is the girl educated?
Manvah nodded. Yes, Damating. Inevera is my apprentice. She is most skilled at weaving, and I have taught her to do sums and keep ledgers. She has read the Evejah once for each of the seven pillars of Heaven.
The damatings eyes were unreadable. Follow me. She turned away, heading deeper into the pavilion. She gave no mind to the blood on the floor, her flowing silk robes gliding easily over it. Not a drop clung to them. It would not dare.
Melan followed, the niedamating stepping nimbly around the blood, and Inevera and her mother trailed after. The pavilion was a maze of white cloth walls, with many turns that were upon them before Inevera even knew they were there. There was no blood on the floor here, and even the cries of the injured Sharum grew muffled. Around one bend, the walls and ceiling shifted suddenly from white to black. It was like stepping from day into night. After turning another bend, it became so dark that her mother, in her black dalting robes, was nearly invisible, and even the white-clad damating and her apprentice became only ghostly images.
Qeva stopped suddenly, and Melan moved around her to pull open a trapdoor Inevera hadnt even noticed. Inside she could only just make out the stone staircase leading down into a deeper dark. The cut stone was cold on her bare feet, and when Melan pulled the trap shut behind them, the blackness became complete. They descended slowly, Inevera terrified she might trip and take the Bride of Everam tumbling down the steps with her.
The stairs were mercifully short, though Inevera did indeed stumble in surprise when she came to the landing. She caught herself quickly, and no one seemed to notice.
A red light appeared in Qevas hand, casting an evil glow that allowed them to see one another, but did little to abate the oppressive darkness around them. The damating led them down a row of dark cells cut into the living rock. Wards were carved into the walls on both sides.
Wait here with Melan, Qeva told Manvah, and bade Inevera to enter one of the cells. She winced as the heavy door closed behind them.
There was a stone pedestal in one corner of the room, and the damating deposited the glowing object there. It looked like a lump of coal carved with glowing wards, but even Inevera knew better. It was alagai hora.
Demon bone.
Qeva turned back to her, and Inevera caught the flash of a curved blade in the womans hand. In the red light, it appeared to be covered in blood.
Inevera shrieked and backpedalled, but the cell was tiny, and she soon fetched up against the stone wall. The damating lifted the blade right up to Ineveras nose, and her eyes crossed trying to see it.
You fear the blade? the damating asked.
Yes, Damating, Inevera said automatically, her voice cracking.
Close your eyes, Qeva commanded. Inevera shook with fear, but she did as she was bade, her heart thumping loudly in her chest as she waited for the blade to pierce her flesh.
But the blow never came. Picture a palm tree, weavers daughter, Qeva said. Inevera didnt wholly understand, but she nodded. It was an easy image to form, as she climbed palm trees every day, nimbly shimmying up the trunk to harvest fronds for weaving.
Does a palm fear the wind? the damating asked.
No, Damating, Inevera said.
What does it do?
It bends, Damating, Inevera said.
The Evejah teaches us that fear and pain are only wind, Inevera, daughter of Manvah. Let it blow past you.
Yes, Damating, Inevera said.
Repeat it three times, Qeva commanded.
Fear and pain are only wind, Inevera said, drawing a deep breath. Fear and pain are only wind. Fear and pain are only wind.
Open your eyes and kneel, Qeva said. When Inevera complied, she added, Hold out your arm. The limb Inevera lifted seemed detached from her, but it held steady. The Bride of Everam pulled up Ineveras sleeve and sliced her forearm, drawing a bright line of blood.
Inevera drew a sharp breath, but she did not flinch away or cry out. Fear and pain are only wind.
The damating lifted her veil slightly and licked the knife, tasting Ineveras blood. She sheathed it at her waist and then reached out with a strong hand to squeeze the cut, dripping blood onto a handful of black, warded dice.
Inevera gritted her teeth. Fear and pain are only wind.
When the blood struck them, the dice began to glow, and Inevera realized they, too, were alagai hora. Her blood was touching the bones of demons. The thought was horrifying.
The damating took a step back, chanting quietly as she shook the dice, their glow increasing with every passing moment.
Everam, giver of light and life, I beseech you, give this lowly servant knowledge of what is to come. Tell me of Inevera, daughter of Kasaad, of the Kaji line of Damaj.
With that, she cast the dice to the floor in front of Inevera. Their light exploded in a flash that caused her to blink, then reduced to a dull throb as the glowing symbols on the floor laid bare the fronds that wove her fate.
The damating said nothing. Her eyes narrowed, staring at the symbols for a long time. Inevera could not say exactly how long it was, but she wobbled as the muscles of her legs, unaccustomed to kneeling so long, began to give way.
Qeva looked up at the movement. Sit back on your heels and keep still! She got to her feet, circling the tiny cell to inspect the pattern of the dice from every angle. Slowly the glow began to fade, but still the damating pondered.
Palm in the wind or not, Inevera began to grow very nervous. Her muscles screamed in strain, and her anxiety doubled with every passing second. What did the Bride of Everam see? Was she to be taken from her mother and sold to a harem? Was she barren?
At last, Qeva looked at Inevera. Touch the dice in any way, and it will mean your life. With that, she left the room, grunting commands. There was a sound of hurried footsteps as Melan ran off.
A moment later Manvah entered the cell, stepping around the dice carefully to kneel behind Inevera. What happened? she whispered.
Inevera shook her head. I dont know. The damating stared at the dice as if unsure what they meant.
Or she didnt like what they told her, Manvah muttered.
What happens now? Inevera asked, her face going cold.
They are summoning Damajiting Kenevah, Manvah said, drawing a shocked gasp from Inevera. It is she who will speak the final word. Pray now.
Inevera shuddered as she lowered her head. She was frightened enough of the damating. The thought of their leader coming to inspect her
Please, Everam, she begged, let me be fertile and bear sons for the Kaji. My family could not bear the shame if I were nieting. Grant me this one wish, and I will give myself to you forever.
They knelt in the dim red light a long time, praying.
Mother? Inevera asked.
Yes? her mother said.
Inevera swallowed the lump in her throat. Will you still love me if Im barren? Her voice cracked at the end. She hadnt meant to cry, but found herself blinking away tears.
A moment later Manvah had folded her in her arms. You are my daughter. I would love you if you put out the sun.
After an interminable wait, Qeva returned, another Bride of Everam at her back this one older and thinner, with a sharp look. She wore damating white, but her veil and headwrap were black silk. Damajiting Kenevah, the most powerful woman in all Krasia.
The Damajiting glanced at the huddling women, and they quickly separated and wiped their eyes, returning to their knees. She said nothing, moving to the dice. For long minutes, she studied the pattern.
At last, Kenevah grunted. Take her.
Inevera gasped as Qeva strode up, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. She looked frantically at her mother and saw Manvahs eyes wide with fear. Mother!
Manvah fell to her belly, clutching at the hem of Qevas white robe as the damating pulled her away. Please, Damating, she begged. My daughter-
Your daughter is no longer your concern, Kenevah cut her off, and Qeva kicked to snap the robe from Manvahs grasp. She belongs to Everam now.
There must be some mistake, Inevera said numbly as Qeva guided her along the road with a firm grasp on her arm. It felt more like she was being escorted to a whipping post than a palace. Damajiting Kenevah and Melan, the niedamating apprentice, walked with them.
The dice do not make mistakes, Kenevah said. And you should be rejoicing. You, the daughter of a basket weaver and a Sharum of no particular note, will be betrothed to Everam. Can you not see the great honour paid to your family this day?