Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [30]
One day, I awoke to the knowledge that Bao was on the move. I could sense his presence moving away from me.
“Batu!” I said in distress. “General Arslan… his camp, I think they must be moving. Is it not time we went, too?”
“Soon.” Batu gripped my elbows, hard. His gentle eyes gazed into mine with unwonted intensity. “They go to their spring pastures. Here, it is not time yet. Soon. Wait. Do not wish ill upon my herds with your haste. The gathering of the tribes will come.”
I bowed my head. “I wish your herds to prosper.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
I waited and waited—and gods! Waited. At last, it was time to move the camp to our spring pastures, a week’s ride away. The felt gers, which had come to seem such substantial man-made structures to me, were dismantled and taken down easily, packed for transport in a matter of hours.
We moved.
Save for the fact that the grasslands were not overgrazed, there was little to distinguish the new campsite from the old. We followed the twisting, shallow river that was our source of water.
We established a new camp.
It went up as swiftly as it had been taken down. But my impatience continued unabated, for Bao had moved, too, and I was no closer to him than I had been before.
I very nearly struck out on my own. Only Sarangerel’s tears persuaded me to wait for the gathering of the tribes.
For as much as I thought I might strangle on my own ever-growing impatience, I survived. And when the day came that Batu and a handful of others made ready to set out for the gathering, I found myself in tears, too. Checheg, Grandmother Yue, Sarangerel, little Mongke, and the baby Bayar—all would be staying behind. Blushing Temur, too—left in charge as the eldest male. I embraced them all, suddenly reluctant to say farewell to them.
I gave away two of my last three jade bangles, keeping only the translucent green bracelet the hue of the dragon’s pool. The pale, spotted bangle of leopard jade, I gave to Sarangerel, knowing it was her favorite. I gave a bangle of lavender jade to Checheg in keeping for Bayar, whom I had helped deliver.
“Moirin, you cannot keep giving valuable things away!” Checheg protested. “You are a long way from home, and you may need them.”
I touched the blue silk scarf draped around my neck. “You have given me more valuable gifts, Checheg.”
“We did but honor the laws of hospitality,” she said stubbornly.
I smiled through my tears. “No. You offered me kinship. That is a great deal more.”
She sighed and gave me a hard, fierce hug. “You are a very strange girl.”
I laughed. “You are not the first person to tell me this.”
When there were no more good-byes to be said, Batu gave the command to mount and ride.
Once again, I was leaving behind people I had come to care for. As grateful as I was to answer the relentless call of my diadh-anam, it hurt, too. Mayhap Checheg was right and I would come to regret it, but for now, I was glad I had given away such gifts as I had. They left behind a trail of mementos among the lives that had touched mine. Whether they knew it or not, Bao’s sister Song’s story was linked to my young friend Sarangerel’s.
It pleased me to think on it. And I had kept the tokens that were the most important to me.
I had my dragon-pool bangle—and another gift from Snow Tiger, a dagger with an ivory hilt carved in the shape of a dragon. I had the Imperial jade medallion. I had the squares of cloth that Bao’s mother and sister had embroidered.
I had the blue silk scarf Checheg had given me.
Somewhere in the depths of my battered canvas satchel, I had a crystal bottle of perfume that had been Jehanne’s parting gift.
I had a signet ring my mother had given me so very long ago, etched with twin crests—the boar of the Cullach Gorrym in Alba and the swan of House Courcel in Terre d’Ange, signifying my dual inheritance.
And I had the yew-wood bow my uncle Mabon had made for me, still resilient and sturdy.
It was enough.
ELEVEN
Twenty-one of us rode to the gathering of the tribes—twenty Tatars, plus me. Among the Tatars, there were sixteen