Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [25]
I missed the dragon, my splendid friend.
And always, always, always, I ached for Bao’s presence. I could sense his diadh-anam burning like a beacon, near enough that I could have ridden there in ten days were it not for the deadly cold. I ached to be reunited with the missing half of my diadh-anam. That was a constant. And it frustrated me, not only because I could not go to him, but because I could not sort out in my confused heart what was real and what was the result of the binding Master Lo Feng had laid upon us.
I knew where my feelings began and ended. They began with a sneaking fondness for Master Lo’s magpie, the proud, stubborn peasant-boy with whom I had bickered and quarreled for so long, before we fell into bed with one another and began a thorny love affair. They ended with Bao walking away from me, leaving me alone and bereft, the spark of my sundered diadh-anam burning steadily inside him.
It was the missing parts in between that confused me.
There were good days and bad days. On good days, I thought mayhap it was for the best that I had this time to reflect. As harsh as they were, the frozen Tatar grasslands had a sweeping majesty to them. Although I felt guilty whenever I wasn’t aiding Checheg in the ger, I liked being outdoors, liked the impossibly vast blue sky arching above me.
I liked doing simple tasks like fetching water from the nearby river, or even gathering cow-dung to dry. I liked to practice the Five Styles of Breathing in the achingly cold air. While I still missed trees, I liked the elemental rhythm of Tatar life.
On the bad days…
On the bad days, I questioned myself. If I had not tarried in the Celestial City in Shuntian an extra week, dallying with the princess, mayhap I would have beaten the weather and gained Bao’s side before winter’s onset, so we might use these long nights to resolve matters between us.
That had been my doing, all my doing.
Snow Tiger had asked me to invoke Naamah’s blessing on her behalf, and I had done it gladly. She had not asked me to tarry. I was the one who had badgered her to let me stay, at least for a week’s time. She had agreed to it without much persuasion needed. And I did not want to regret it, for it had been a time of profound grace.
I would have stayed longer had she let me. I would have spent the winter in Shuntian with her.
The Emperor’s daughter’s face swam in my memory, her dark eyes grave. It is too easy to accept the comfort you offer, Moirin. I have duties that lie elsewhere. You have a destiny to follow.
She was right, of course. But it didn’t stop me from resenting my everlasting destiny on the bad days. It seemed unfair that it constantly drove me away from people for whom I cared deeply, and doubly unfair that the one person to whom my destiny was inextricably linked was bound and determined to evade me.
I wondered what Bao was feeling.
Bit by bit, I learned more about his circumstances. I learned that General Arslan was high in the Great Khan’s favor. Batu confirmed that he would have been the one to lead a raid on Tonghe village twenty-some years ago.
“Very good warrior,” he said slowly to me. “Strong man.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why fight and kill?”
Batu frowned and shook his head, deciding it was too complicated a matter to explain to me with my limited Tatar language. He beckoned Grandmother Yue over and spoke to her at length.
“Ah, child!” she said when he finished. “It’s the way of the world, that’s all. The Ch’in raided Tatar camps, too. When the men were away, they kidnapped women and children and enslaved them, put them to work building the wall.”
I took a sharp breath. “Put them to work building