“You didn’t try to heal him?” Jayan asked.
“No. There was no point trying. I couldn’t save him.”
“There’s always a point in trying. Even if you can’t save someone, you might learn something – and you did. You stopped the pain with magic.”
She grimaced. “It’s still not healing with magic, though.”
“But it’s something new. Something no magician or healer has managed.”
She frowned. “And I have no idea if I can undo it. What if I stopped the pain while doing something minor, but couldn’t unstop it. Would I leave someone permanently numb?”
He shrugged. “You’ll work it out. I know you will.”
She sighed and looked at him. “I couldn’t do this without you, Jayan. Not without your help.”
His eyes widened and he quickly looked away. “I’m only doing it because I know you’d be running off on your own if I didn’t keep an eye on you, no matter what Dakon said.” He stepped over the walls and started towards their horses. “We’d better catch up.”
Amused, Tessia watched as he roughly hooked her father’s bag on her mount’s saddle and then, without looking at her, swung up onto his own horse. He didn’t wait for her to mount, and set a swifter pace than she liked, as it jostled the contents of the bag too much. When they were halfway along the line he abruptly kicked his mount into a fast trot, not even glancing back to see if she followed.
What did I say? she wondered as he left her behind. Then she noticed how one of the female apprentices stared at him as he passed her. He gave the apprentice a quick glance, and smiled. Ah. Is that it? Has our little conversation yesterday made him reconsider what he thinks of female magicians? Being too openly friendly with me might ruin his chances with them.
A pity, she thought. We were getting along so well.
Keeping her expression neutral, Stara walked into Kachiro’s bedroom. Or more accurately, my bedroom. At once Vora jumped up from the low stool she had been sitting on and prostrated herself. Stara sat down on the end of the bed, thought of several different approaches to describing what had happened, and could not decide which to take.
“Can I get up, mistress?”
“Oh! Sorry. Of course.” Stara felt her face flush. Am I ever going to get used to having slaves? Though I suppose the fact that I forgot she was there is a good sign that I’m beginning to. Or a bad sign.
Vora returned to the stool and looked at her expectantly. “Well?”
Stara shook her head. The slave’s shoulders slumped. “What went wrong this time?”
“Not your plan,” Stara assured her. “I went to the baths, as you suggested. He was there. He wasn’t angry at me. He was... I think he expected me to try something like that, though perhaps not so soon.” Funny how I was surprised he didn’t seduce me on the night of the wedding, but he’s surprised I’ve only left it for a week. I wonder how long I’m supposed to wait?
Vora was frowning now. “And?”
“I...I did what you suggested.” Stara shook her head. “No reaction.”
“Nothing? Perhaps he was pretending.”
Stara smiled wryly. “I have no reason to doubt. He wasn’t wearing any clothing. And neither was I.”
“Oh.” Vora looked away, her brow creased deeply. “What happened then?”
“He told me he’s never been able to bed a woman, or even wanted to. He was very apologetic about it. I asked him why he married me and he said he’d hoped it would be different with a woman as beautiful as me.”
Vora gave a quiet snort. “That, I suspect, is a lie. What happened next?”
“I told him I was hoping for children. He told me not to worry, that we would find another way. He made me promise not to tell anyone. Then he got me to put my clothes back on and leave.”
The slave’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting.”
Stara frowned. “Do you think Father knew Kachiro couldn’t...?”
“That he’d marry you to a man he knew couldn’t sire children?”
“Or because I can’t kill him while bedding him.”
Vora blinked. “I hadn’t considered that. It wouldn’t do Ashaki Sokara’s reputation any good if his daughter had a habit of killing husbands. But the first reason is possibly more likely. Your father cares a great deal where his wealth and land will go when he dies. I’d assumed he would prefer it to fall into the hands of a man he disliked than the emperor’s – especially since Kachiro’s the same age as Ikaro and unlikely to outlive him by very long, so that everything would soon pass on to your son or daughter. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe this is more complicated than that.” She looked thoughtful.
“Kachiro said we’d find a way to have a child. Is he lying?”
Vora shook her head and smiled. “There are other ways to ‘baste the bird’, as they say.”
Stara grimaced. “Why are all Sachakan sayings so crass?”
The slave shrugged. “It probably started as a slave saying. We’re nothing if not honest about the processes of life.”
“Then...if there are other ways I can become pregnant by Kachiro, then it’s still possible for father’s assets to go to my husband’s descendants.”
“Yes.” Vora rose and began to pace the room. “If your father doesn’t intend you to have a child, then he has to have considered that you may become pregnant by other means. Your father must know he can contest the paternity of any child of yours, and succeed. Either more people know about Kachiro’s inability than he realises, or your father has other evidence. Someone willing to verify it. Or unwilling but powerless to prevent a mind-read.” Vora’s voice trailed off. She stopped pacing and her expression became thoughtful.
Rising, Stara began pacing in Vora’s place. “So, if Father doesn’t mean me to have a child, or plans to contest its legitimacy, then who does he want to have inherit?” She felt her heart skip and looked up at the slave. “He still means to kill Nachira!”
Vora looked up, and her expression became grave. “Ah.”
A wave of frustration and anger rushed through Stara. “I agreed to marry for nothing! He was getting me out of the way.
Argh! This is crazy!” She stopped pacing and turned to face Vora.
“Why doesn’t Father want a grandchild by me to inherit? It’s not like Kachiro can take anything before Ikaro dies.”
Vora shrugged. “Part of it is pride. Inheritance in direct line through male sons is considered the ideal, and your father is nothing if not a traditionalist. He also sees his trade as another son or daughter. He wants to make sure it has a healthy future in the hands of people who will maintain it.”
“And this justifies killing Nachira?”
“Yes.” The slave sighed.
Stara sat down, suddenly filled with helplessness. “I wish we could sneak Nachira out of there and send her somewhere safe.”
“I too,” Vora said sadly. “And I’m no longer in a position to help.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “Though I might be able to get a warning to Ikaro, if he hasn’t left.”
“Left? Ah, the war in Kyralia.” Stara shook her head. “If Father is so set on having an heir through his son, why would he send Ikaro off to war?”
Vora grimaced. “Pride again. Any ashaki who do not fight will lose respect and status. He has most likely joined the army too.”
“They must be very confident of winning – and surviving.”
Stara frowned. Does Mother know any of this? She can’t know her husband plans to kill her daughter by marriage. She hasn’t even met Nachira, though she must wonder why she has no grandchildren yet. Does she know her son is going to Kyralia to fight? How is a war between Sachaka and Kyralia affecting trade in Elyne? She may not be able to receive dyes from here, but she did have a few arrangements locally. Eventually the war must end and life go back to normal. Then she’ll find out I’m married...