On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [12]
“No, no,” soothed Tahmu. “Perhaps it is because you were out so often in the sun with no head covering. When we reach the House, you will be given proper clothing, as befits the servant of a khashim.”
She lowered her eyes at that, her face clearly showing the struggle between fear and hope. Poor, lost little girl. He hoped she would be happy living at the House, and voiced that desire to her.
“They say many things about the noble khashim’s great House,” said Kevla, seizing upon the distraction. “Are they true?”
“Well, that depends on who ‘they’ are and what ‘they’ say.”
“Oh, so many things! I have heard there is water, more water than anyone could ever drink. I have heard there is even water for bathing, hidden in a great cavern beneath the House. I have heard the walls are of glass, and many colored, and that you have strange beasts that can cross the desert with only a cupful of water!”
She turned again to face him. Her words came faster as her enthusiasm for the tales—some of them quite fabulous—came pouring out.
“I have heard it is cool in the House in the day and warm at night. I have heard there is feasting every single evening! I have heard that the birds are trained to sing songs on command, that your hunting dogs can outrun a horse, that your wife’s beauty would blind a man if he did not look upon her with proper respect, that—”
Kevla’s eyes were fixed on Tahmu’s face. He knew he ought to discourage such familiar behavior, but he could not. Not today, not after the cruel but ultimately kind words Keishla had said. Time enough for Kevla to learn such things along with her other duties, once they had reached the House. So instead of rebuking her, Tahmu let the girl prattle on with her “I have heard” stories, smiling down as the tales grew more and more outrageous.
So intent was Kevla on recounting the stories, turned around in the saddle with her attention fully upon Tahmu, that she did not notice when the horse passed beneath a rock outcropping and made a sudden turn.
Tahmu waited until Kevla paused for breath. “Well, now, here is your chance to see what is true and what was spun by taleweavers,” he said, laughter warm in his voice. Gently, he turned the girl around.
And watched as Kevla Bai-sha gazed for the first time upon the verdant estate that belonged to the khashim of the Clan of Four Waters.
Chapter Three
Kevla swayed forward, tightening her grip on Swift’s mane to keep from tumbling off the horse in her shock. No capering fantasy creature, no nebulous dream of wealth, nothing she had conjured inside her head over many otherwise-empty hours had prepared the girl for the stunning reality that unfolded before her.
Green. It was all so green. The greenness dazzled the eyes, like the sun if one risked a glance at its brilliance. She noticed for the first time on a conscious level a sound she’d been hearing for several minutes; a strange noise, reminiscent of hot soup on the boil, but not quite. Now, she beheld what had been making the sound. Twining like a pair of snakes, two greenish-brown rivers intersected, then went their separate ways. The sun glinted off the surface, making Kevla’s eyes water. She blinked, annoyed at having her view of this amazing sight interrupted even for an instant.
Along those Four Waters traveled what Kevla knew to be boats, although the only ones she had ever seen had been toys. One type of boat was made of reeds tightly bound together. Sometimes this boat was flat, like a blanket spread upon the water, and other times its ends swooped up to mimic the other style of boat that meandered along the curving waterways. Kevla could not tell what this second one was made of, but it had large triangular pieces of fabric that caught the winds and propelled the boat much faster than simple poling would have.
Marvelous, both of the boats. Marvelous, the people that imagined such things, designed and knew how to direct them, to harness the wind and water as others harnessed the broad necks and shoulders of sandcattle.
She