Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [23]
The old woman cackled. “The kind of tonic to stiffen a man’s spear!”
I flushed. “Ah… yes. That would likely be Bao. Although he might have been calling himself Shangun. I do not know.”
She eyed me. “Lightning Stick?”
I shrugged. “It is a name he took for himself when he was young and foolish.”
The old woman conversed with Batu. Aided by her daughter, my hostess began to clear and scour our dishes. I waited.
“Yes,” the old woman said at length. “My grandson has heard of your young man Bao. With his strong tonic, he bribed his way into General Arslan’s favor before the winter winds blew. It seems that General Arslan has claimed him as a son. Come spring, you ought to be able to find him.”
I stood, so quickly it dizzied me. “Spring! I can’t wait that long.”
My hostess hurried over to me, urging me to sit with gentle hands. She and her husband exchanged worried words.
“Strange girl, you are not going anywhere for a very long time!” the old woman announced in an acerbic tone. “No one travels in winter. You barely survived a single storm. You would only die.”
My diadh-anam flared within me. “I need to go!”
The old woman sighed. “Oh, child! It only feels that way. Such is the nature of young love. It will pass.”
“You don’t understand,” I whispered.
Her wrinkled mouth pursed. “So they all say. I was young once, too. Young and beautiful. It fades, child. All beauty and passion does. Stay the winter here, and in the spring, the tribes will gather in the northwest. You will be reunited with your young man, and see how well his passion has endured. Perhaps you will be fortunate. If so, I say well done. If not, it is not worth dying for now.”
I hesitated.
Small hands tugged at the sash around my waist. I glanced down to see Batu’s daughter yanking at me. Her eyes were wary, but her face was set and determined. She said something fierce in the Tatar tongue.
Her mother echoed it, and her father nodded.
“They do not want your blood on their hands,” the old woman translated. “They beg you to stay.”
I knew myself defeated. I sank to the floor, bowing my head. The little girl climbed into my lap and nestled against me, no longer fearful. Absentmindedly, I stroked her black hair. “I do not wish to be a burden.”
“Then work for your keep,” the old woman said forcefully. “My soft-hearted granddaughter-in-law Checheg will show you how. Live, endure, and learn.”
I glanced at my hostess. “Checheg? Is that your name?”
She nodded, hands pressed against her swollen belly.
I touched my breast. “Moirin.”
“Moirin.” It was Batu who said my name in a strong voice, rising to his feet. He placed his hands on my shoulders as though to claim me, but there was only kindness in his grip. He smiled down at me, gave me a little shake, then turned me loose, ruffling his daughter’s hair. “Moirin.”
I was grateful for his kindness. “Your people are not what I was led to expect, Grandmother.”
She snorted. “Do I look like a Tatar, child?”
“Ah…” I peered at her. With her shriveled-apple face, I couldn’t tell. The little girl on my lap plucked at the silk cord around my neck. “Are you from Shuntian, Grandmother? Is that how you come to speak the scholar’s tongue?”
“I am an Imperial princess descended from his Celestial Majesty Zhu Daoyu,” the old woman said with steely dignity. “I was given in marriage to the tribal khan Oyugun as part of a peace treaty.”
I blinked. “You were?”
She gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, it was a very long time ago. No one remembers. But you may call me Grandmother Yue, and yes, that is why I speak the scholar’s tongue.” She pointed at my chest, her eyes keen. “It is also how I know that is an Imperial seal you wear around your neck, which leads me to suspect part of your tale is either missing or a lie.”
I glanced down in alarm to see that Batu and Checheg’s daughter had pulled the Imperial jade medallion from beneath my coat and was toying with it, tracing