Linsha grew even more puzzled. Why were they talking as if the baby was dead when he was right in front of them crying noisily? She watched astonished as Afec cut the umbilical cord, dropped it in a jar of alcohol, and pulled out another smaller jar. He slathered a liberal amount of a greenish cream on the baby’s umbilical wound and handed him to the guards. The woman began to cry softly. While the guards carried the naked baby away, the slave snatched up the blanket and hurried out in the opposite direction.
“What was that about?” Linsha asked, watching Afec wipe his hands thoroughly on a cloth. “What does marthtok mean?”
“It means the babe is deformed. He will not be allowed to live.”
“What?” she gasped. “He looked fine.”
“He had a clubbed foot. To the Tarmaks any deformity or defect in a baby is a death sentence. A child with a clubbed foot does not become a warrior, therefore he has no value. He is a blight on society and must be disposed of.”
“And the mother went along with that?” she exclaimed, shocked by such a thought.
“She is Tarmak. She has no choice. Nor would she want it.” Then his voice chilled with a cold Linsha had not heard before. “And I do not try to stop them because the fewer Tarmaks there are the better.”
Linsha strode to the window and looked out, but the guards had already disappeared. “What will they do to him?”
“He will be left on a high hill to die. The goddess will take his spirit and perhaps send him back in a better body.”
Linsha shuddered. “That’s barbaric. What are these Tarmaks?” she cried. “They eat dragon embryos and murder their own young.”
The old healer nodded. “Among other things. But at least that little fellow will not feel anything.” He moved around the room putting things away.
She turned around and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “The cream. You put something in that green cream.”
“It has a heavy numbing sedative. I usually use it on adults before I have to cut into the body or make stitches.”
Linsha shot a look at the red umbilical cord floating in the liquid and decided not to ask what other potions and medicines he knew that might require something like that. Her shock and anger slowly subsided, leaving a mental aftertaste in the back of her mind that left her slightly queasy. There had to be way off this island and away from these people. There had to be!
“Now, Lady, if you will return to the sleeping quarters and rest. We will meet to discuss your marriage this afternoon.”
A pang went through Linsha’s heart-whether of fear or anger she couldn’t decide. She clamped down on it and banished it to the back of her mind. She still had four days-much could happen in four days-and there were other things to think about. Sirenfal lay ill and mistreated. If that wasn’t enough to occupy her mind, she could kill any thoughts of self-pity with the memory of the small dragon embryo lying in the pool of it own blood or the infant boy being carried out by Tarmak warriors to die alone on an empty, heartless landscape.
Shaken, she thanked Afec and walked outside where the hot sun baked the stone walls and a cloudless sky arched overhead. She considered Afec’s advice then rejected it. The heat of the day felt good on her aching shoulders and her thoughts were too restive to give her peace. She wanted solitude and space to think.
Knowing the gardens would be busy on a fine day like this, she skirted the lawns of the exercise fields and took the running path around the perimeter. The walled enclosure that formed the grounds of the Akeelawasee covered a rectangular area of about ten acres. It was by far the largest open area in the confines of the Imperial palace. Linsha had explored much of it in the hope of finding a way out, but the walls were heavily guarded, and so far she had not found so much as a mouse hole. She reviewed her memories of what she had seen. She had only searched out of habit, knowing an escape attempt toward the city or the interior was doomed. She hadn’t thought about an escape toward the sea, and she’d never bothered to see how close the walls came to the cliff edge.
Her muscles felt warm in the morning sun and her joints were a little more limber, so she broke into a gentle jog that carried her slowly around the small lake, through the copses of trees and flowering vines and out into the open lawns of the farthest reaches of the Akeelawasee. It seemed odd to be out here without Malawaitha to harass her. She hadn’t realized how much the Tarmak woman had preyed on her mind until the vindictive bully was gone. Callista had told her that Malawaitha was buried without fanfare in an unmarked grave somewhere in the palace gardens. Although the regret lingered, and more than a little guilt still gnawed at her, Linsha felt as if a great weight had been removed from her thoughts.
Trotting on, she drew closer to the enclosing wall of the garden, and for a while she followed the path in the shadow of the high stone barrier. She felt the eyes of the guards on her back and ignored them. Let them watch. All she wanted to do was look.
She came to a particular rock formation that jutted out of the ground like the prow of a ship. It was blanketed with lichen and tenacious wildflowers, and it served as the turning point on the trail. From the rock, the trail curved to the right and wound its way toward the opposite wall. The shorter connecting wall, the wall that paralleled the cliffs, was out of sight beyond a low rise and a tall hedge of evergreen shrubs.
Linsha slowed to a gentle walk and veered off the path as if she were simply out for a stroll. Meandering through the grass, she found a narrow path, probably made by sentries, that followed the wall and made its way up the rise and through a thin break in the hedge. The shrubs grew tall and thick and crowded her in their dark green, fragrant foliage. Then she was through, and she stepped out into a different world.
Behind her, past the hedge, the palace gardens were lush and well tended, but here on the edges of the promontory, the greenery had been stripped away and there was nothing here but stone walls and wind-swept rock. She walked forward. Perhaps twenty feet away was the fortifying wall, a massive structure about ten feet thick and thirty feet tall. A narrow stair climbed up to the parapet at the top of the wall and a small guard tower that overlooked the wall and what lay beyond. She could see two guards on the walkway standing with their backs to her, but she knew there were probably more around. Both Tarmaks were well armed and carried bows already strung. It would be better to let them know she was there, she decided, than surprise them and end up with an arrow in her chest. She shouted a greeting in her roughest Tarmakian.
The two Tarmaks whirled in surprise, and as she suspected, two more came running from the tower. They glowered down at her, jabbering at her in Tarmakian too fast for her to follow and gesturing for her to turn back. She calmly ignored their gestures and walked up the stone steps to the walk. Clasping her hands, she bowed to them politely.
“Can any of you speak Common?” she asked.
“Drathkin’kela,” one warrior replied in a rough voice. It was the hetkegul, the warrior in charge of a unit of ten. “You should not be here. This is not for women.”
She bowed again and said a silent thank you. Courtesy was her weapon here, and she was not yet fluent enough in Tarmakian to feign such politeness.
“I am not here to get in your way, Keikegul,” she said. “I just want to sit on the wall and watch the sea. I want to feel the wind and the sun.” She angled herself slightly so he could clearly see the bruises on her throat and on her eye. “I am not like the other women. You know what it is like to ride horses on the open plains and sail the vast seas. I have done that. I have fought in battle like you, and I have ridden the great dragons. This place-” she waved back at the palace behind her-“is beautiful, but my spirit chafes in there. I just want to see something beyond the walls. I will stay out of your way. I promise.”