"Thanks for that," Kiram said.
"No, he's right," Siamak said. "You're far too attractive to be a mugger. Majdi on the other hand is nasty looking enough, I think. Maybe you could lure men in and he could mug them."
"Sure," Majdi said, grinning. "What do you think, Mum? Kiri and I could go into business together and you wouldn't need to worry about settling either of us in suitable marriages."
"Oh, that would be the joy of my life." Kiram's mother helped herself to a honey candy and placed a second one in Kiram's hand.
The conversation moved easily through recent gossip. Siamak briefly mentioned that Musni had just become a father but then quickly changed the subject. Dauhd wanted to know all about the eccentric behavior of Kiram's Cadeleonian classmates. Kiram obliged her for a little while but found that he preferred to describe his own oddity in the midst of the Cadeleonians. It seemed wrong to poke fun at Nestor or Elezar when they had been so decent to him.
Everyone laughed when he described how he spent nearly two months sitting atop Firaj like a stuffed doll while the horse responded to Master Ignacio's shouted commands.
"He's a good mount then?" Kiram's father asked.
"The best," Kiram assured him and his father looked proud.
"What about the duke?" Siamak asked.
"Javier?" Kiram asked.
"They have a first name acquaintanceship, you know," Dauhd stated and Kiram felt his face flushing. He found it almost impossible to describe Javier and even trying made him feel lonely. Fortunately Rafie changed the subject quite smoothly and soon they were all discussing the upcoming wedding season and all the sweets that would inevitably need to be made.
When Kiram's mother and Siamak renewed their argument over selling of Cadeleonian cookies-particularly meringues- Kiram made the excuse of his tiring travel and need for a bath to excuse himself. His sister Dauhd shot him an envious look. His father hugged him on his way out and whispered, "Welcome home."
"It's good to be back." Kiram returned the embrace with strength. Only after he had settled into a steaming bath did he realize that he'd spoken Cadeleonian.
Chapter Eight
His second day back home, Kiram obliged his mother by personally delivering the invitations for his welcome home party to several important mothers. In the stately quiet of the Kir-Naham pharmacy, among the dozens of shelves filled with dried herbs and dark jars containing strange fluids, he glimpsed Hashiem Kir-Naham. There was something about his thoughtful expression and elegant motions as he ground yellow flowers in a mortar that reminded Kiram of Scholar Donamillo. He was slim, even for a Haldiim, but corded muscles flexed along the lengths of his arms as he worked his pestle.
Kiram left the invitation with Hashiem's mother and politely declined her offer of a medicinal tea, accepting instead several drops of fortune oil. It warmed his fingers as he rubbed it into his hands and a perfume of sweet camphor and cinnamon rose around him. As Kiram walked past the cedar shelves on his way out, Hashiem glanced up and offered him a smile. The expression lent his pleasant features a hint of both youth and charm. Despite himself Kiram smiled back and waved.
Back at his mother's house Kiram spent the afternoon standing for his mother's tailor while the old woman took measurements. She noted that he had not only grown a little taller but also much broader in his shoulders, chest and thighs. Between measurements, Kiram entertained Siamak's young daughters. They demanded to view his scarred arm and see demonstrations of his duels at the tournament. Majdi happily stood in for Kiram's Cadeleonian opponents and they fenced with fly whips.
At lunch Alizadeh's cousin Easham seated Kiram next to her son, Vashir. Vashir's hair, like Alizadeh's, hung in long curls nearly reaching his hips. A rich luster showed in his deeply bronzed skin, and when his bare arm brushed across Kiram's, it radiated warmth. He smelled of earth and smoke. He flirted with Kiram, as he always did, but after the past months of constant secrecy, Kiram found Vashir's public caresses a startling reminder that he was no longer at the Sagrada Academy.
In the past Kiram had always found Vashir's company difficult. Physically he was deeply attractive to Kiram, but his conversation had always seemed to border on delusion. Now Kiram found himself listening to Vashir with such fascination that he failed to take much note of the way Vashir's thigh pressed against his own.
"How do you think a living man could become a vessel for a curse?" Kiram asked. Across the low table Dauhd rolled her eyes and Siamak looked pained.
"A true curse from the ancient times?" Vashir cocked his head and regarded Kiram as if he might have mistaken him for someone else.
"Not a true curse," Kiram clarified. According to Alizadeh a real curse was beyond the control of any single person and it destroyed everything in its path. "A shadow curse."
"A shadow curse. That's a deadly thought." Vashir lifted his brows. "It's Alizadeh you should be talking to about curses. But they're a dangerous interest to take up." Vashir placed his hand on Kiram's. "You're far too talented a youth to be lost to a dead age."
"A dead age?" Kiram didn't withdraw his hand from Vashir's. His fingers felt strong and the rough calluses pleased Kiram, reminding him of Javier 's touch. "Are all curses ancient, then?"
"All the great curses are ancient," Vashir replied with a relaxed smile. "Those who knew how to craft them were either destroyed by the Bahiim or took vows and became Bahiim themselves hundreds of years ago. Even before the time of Nazario the Impaler most of the great curses were locked away. The last of the great curses came during Nazario's reign."
"The Old Rage," Kiram supplied and again Vashir seemed surprised that Kiram knew the name.
"Yes, it arose in dark times and cost many lives before it was sealed, away. They say that, even now, it doesn't rest easy." Vashir leaned a little closer to Kiram. "Alizadeh says that it could not be put to rest properly, because the Bahiim had destroyed all their links to the shajdis to keep Nazario from claiming their power."
"Really?" Kiram asked. "I wonder if that would that make it easier to create a shadow-"
"I wonder if you two realize that the rest of us have no interest!" Dauhd announced.
Kiram scowled at her but Vashir simply laughed and allowed the subject to change. They discussed the new silks arriving from Yuan and the latest scandal rag denouncing the royal bishop as the father of another illegitimate son. Vashir left soon after that with a handsome young butcher who wanted his meats blessed.
Only at dusk did Kiram at last manage to slip away from his mother and sisters to Rafie's small house. He found Alizadeh in the garden, wrapped in his heavy leather cloak, and leaning back against the gnarled trunk of a tree.
"Rafie's bringing tea out for us," Kiram said as a way of announcing himself.
Alizadeh smiled just a little and Kiram sat down next to him.
"How are you feeling?" Kiram asked.
"Better by the day," Alizadeh replied. "And how have you been?"
"Me? I'm fine." Kiram gazed up at the violet and gold streaks that the setting sun had blazed across the sky. The sunsets had never been this brilliant at the Sagrada Academy and suddenly Kiram wondered what the sky was like over Rauma.
"Did you get my letters?"
"Yes, I did."
"And did you tell the Circle of Red Oaks about the Tornesal curse?"
Alizadeh closed his eyes and nodded.
"What did they say?" Kiram asked. "Will they help him?"
"Your handsome duke?" Alizadeh asked.
"You know who I mean."
"No, they won't interfere in the machinations of Cadeleonian noblemen." Alizadeh glanced to Kiram with a gentle expression. "But they will not bar me from doing what I will to protect you."