Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [24]
“So?” Grandmother Yue asked in a sharp voice. “Which is it, child? An omission or a lie?”
I swallowed hard. “Missing, Grandmother. Perhaps you heard, there was a civil war in Ch’in. I played a role in it and won the Emperor’s favor.”
“Ah!” Her lips worked. “Now, that’s more like it. Yes, yes, we have heard rumors and gossip. A warrior princess possessed by a demon, great sorcerers doing battle in the south with dreadful weapons.” She nodded. “That’s a tale fit for a long winter. You’ll tell it in full, of course, with no details omitted.”
I looked around the ger. It was a scene of domestic tranquillity, filled with folk who had shown me nothing but generosity. “They will not take it amiss?”
Grandmother Yue took a noisy sip of tea. “The world is a complicated place, child. I have lived most of my life among the Tatars, and they are no better or worse than any other folk. Today, they are content to be peaceable. If the Emperor had lost the Mandate of Heaven and Ch’in lay in chaos, perhaps the khans would be plotting an invasion. They have conquered and ruled Ch’in before, you know.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t known.
She shrugged. “It would not matter anyway. Hospitality is sacred to them, and my grandson Batu has offered you the protection of his roof. No tale you tell will cause him to violate that trust.” She sipped her tea. “So tell your tale from the beginning. The very beginning.”
“As you will, Grandmother.” I took a deep breath and began. “I was born to the Maghuin Dhonn. We are the folk of the Brown Bear, and the oldest magic in Alba runs in our veins—”
The old woman smiled, her bright eyes disappearing in a nest of wrinkles. “Yes, that’s definitely more like it!”
NINE
Over the long winter months, I spun out my story—my true story, the one I had told to Bao’s mother and sister, with a wealth of detail added to it. And Grandmother Yue was right, no one took it amiss. There was little else to do, and Batu’s family was glad of the distraction.
I was glad, too. It gave me a sense of purpose during those early days when I was more hindrance than help in the camp. Bit by bit, as Checheg showed me how to prepare salty tea and cook in the Tatar manner, I felt myself become more useful. During Grandmother Yue’s prodigious naps, we communicated with gestures and the few words of Tatar I began to acquire. As Checheg’s belly grew ever larger, I sensed she was increasingly grateful for my aid.
After meals, I told my story, eking it out slowly while Grandmother Yue translated.
Unlike most folk I had encountered, the Tatars did not find it strange that the Maghuin Dhonn worship the Great Bear Herself. They simply nodded, accepting it as a matter of course; and I found myself grateful for that simple acceptance.
Like folk everywhere, they marveled at the opulence and licentiousness of the D’Angeline lifestyle. Although I couched the details in discreet terms for the benefit of the children, Batu and Checheg were shocked to learn that the King of Terre d’Ange not only wed a courtesan, but allowed her to take lovers.
“Heh!” Grandmother Yue cackled with delight. “I say good for her!”
Some details, I chose to withhold. Reckoning they would find it too unlike their customs to understand, I didn’t tell them that Jehanne had seduced me quite thoroughly, only that she had rescued me from Raphael’s deadly ambition.
Everyone agreed that Raphael was a right scoundrel, but they reveled in the tales of the fallen spirits we summoned and how they tricked Raphael and his companions. Checheg and Batu’s daughter, Sarangerel, especially loved to hear about the spirit Caim, who had eyes like an owl and antlers with a bird’s nest caught in them. According to lore, Caim could bestow the gift of communicating with all living creatures. He tricked Raphael and the others by teaching them the language of ants, which was composed wholly of scent. They gave up before the spirit Caim moved on to crickets.
It was a time of peace, but it was also