Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [194]
"You have very long legs!" Second Daughter said in an aggrieved tone, holding up a pair of loose trousers that fell well above my ankles. "Do all barbarian women have such long legs?"
"No," I said. "My father is tall."
She cocked her head at me. "What does your father do?"
"Ahh… he's a priest."
"What kind of priest?"
I flushed at the thought of trying to explain Naamah's Service to a curious fourteen-year-old Ch'in girl. "The kind that solves other people's problems," I said. "Especially troubled lovers."
Her eyes widened. "What kind of problems?"
"Enough." Madame Po intervened, taking the trousers from her. "I'll have Seamstress sew a border on these. That will suit very well." She clapped her hands briskly. "Now, back to bed, girls!"
I passed that night in First Daughter's bed while she shared her second sister's. Another time, it would have troubled me to sleep indoors in a strange, man-made building surrounded by strangers. Not tonight. I was glad of it, even as I was glad of the high stone walls surrounding Ludong City. The girls' innocence, the sound of their deep, untroubled breathing served as a buffer between me and the ugliness I'd witnessed earlier.
The soldier I'd killed…
Each time I neared the verge of sleep, his surprised face loomed in my memory, his hands clutching the arrow blossoming from his chest. In the heat of the moment, all I'd felt was grim satisfaction. Now it haunted me.
I had killed a man.
Well and so, he had deserved it. If I hadn't killed him, I would be chattel—or dead. I repeated the thought to myself over and over, taking comfort in the soft breathing of Governor and Madame Po's daughters, until weariness claimed me and I slept.
In the morning, we departed for Shuntian.
I hated to leave so soon. I could have stayed for days, enveloped in Madame Po's maternal concern, distracted by the curiosity and chatter of her lively daughters, protected by the high stone walls that would have once made me so uneasy.
But my diadh-anam flared at the sight of Bao and Master Lo; and there was another man's daughter awaiting us. The Emperor's warrior daughter, blindfolded and caged behind iron bars.
Demon-possessed Snow Tiger, who had torn her bridegroom apart with her bare hands.
Bao grinned upon seeing me in borrowed clothes. I wore a long jacket of peach silk trimmed with brocade over a pair of ivory trousers with a similar border hemmed in haste. "You look good. Almost like a Ch'in girl now."
I eyed him. "And you look like a peasant still. Will you wear that to greet the Emperor?"
He shrugged, hard, lean shoulders moving gracefully beneath the homespun cotton of his shirt. "It shows humility."
"Does it?" I had my doubts about Bao and humility, no matter how hard he strove for it.
Bao narrowed his eyes at me. "Do you want to say good-bye to your horse, witch-girl who sometimes talks to animals? She is not fit to ride yet. None of our mounts are."
That softened me. "Aye, I do."
Governor Po's daughters trailed me into their father's stable, where I said my farewells to Blossom. The filly leaned her head wearily over the stall door, apologies in her eyes. I rubbed the base of her ears, sensing the deep, trembling exhaustion in her.
Peace. I breathed the thought at her. Rest.
Blowing out her breath through flared nostrils, Blossom agreed.
"She was a gift from a royal prince," I said somberly to the Governor's daughters. "The Dauphin of Terre d'Ange himself." They gazed back at me, wide-eyed. "On the very day he gave her to me, I saved his life. She was bred to carry royalty, and she is a very, very long way from home. If I may return for her, I will. But if I cannot,