On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [35]
“Sahlik knows. And now, so do you.”
“Kevla should know,” Jashemi said.
“No. It would be too dangerous. She would be used by those who would try to hurt me through her. The fewer who know, the better.”
Jashemi looked up at his father and took a deep breath. “Then you are compounding your sin by lying, Father. She has a right to be acknowledged.”
“To what end, my son? To hurt your mother, whose only real crime is that she is not the woman I loved? To mark Kevla as a target for schemers and plotters? To plant false hope in her little heart? She is and always will be Bai-sha. Even if I acknowledged her, she will have no legal rights. She has a better life now than any she could have expected.”
This was wisdom, and Jashemi knew it. And yet….
“You will understand when you are older, my son. For now, I will ask you to swear that you will reveal what you have discovered to no one.”
“Of course. But others will notice. The resemblance is strong, Father. Especially when you or I are close to her.” He took a sip from his waterskin.
“Then we must take care not to be seen close to her,” Tahmu replied. “People do not notice servants, Jashemi. Yeshi has not, and she has picked Kevla as her new favorite girl.”
Jashemi choked on the liquid. “You placed Kevla with Mother? You rub her nose in this?”
Again, Tahmu sighed. “I cannot love your mother, Jashemi. The Great Dragon knows that I have tried. What I can do is honor her and—”
“Honor her? By giving her your Bai-sha child?”
“Jashemi!” Tahmu’s voice was sharp and hard, and the boy started. “I have been patient with you, but do not presume to judge me. Yeshi is kind to her women, and also, they are not as often seen wandering in the household. It is best for Kevla to be with Yeshi. And she is good at what she does—Yeshi is happy. How then is this wrong?”
Tears stung Jashemi’s eyes and he blinked hard, not wishing to cry in front of his father. He felt a dreadful helplessness wash over him. He loved his mother, and he had assumed Tahmu loved her, too. To learn in the space of one day that he had a Bai-sha half sister and that his father had never loved his mother was almost overwhelming. He wanted to hate Tahmu, but he understood his father’s reasoning. He wanted to hate Kevla, but she was unstained by this. She seemed bright and spirited, the sort of girl he would have been delighted to call “sister.”
Of course, he could not call her anything.
Or could he?
His father had asked him not to reveal his secret. Jashemi would keep that promise. But Tahmu had not forbidden his son to seek out Kevla.
Had circumstances been different, they might have been true brother and sister. Kevla would have been raised with respect and honor. In the past, Tahmu had even spoken in favor of women learning to read, so Jashemi assumed that if Kevla had been legitimate, she would have been educated.
They could have been playmates.
They could still be playmates.
Hope stirred inside him, replacing that awful sense of anguish and helplessness. He could not force his father to love his mother. He could not undo what Tahmu had done years ago. But Jashemi could see to it that Kevla knew more than comfort as Yeshi’s handmaiden.
“Jashemi?” Tahmu regarded his son intently. Jashemi averted his eyes, fearful that his father would be able to read his plan somehow. “What are you—?”
“Father!” Jashemi cried, pointing at a roiling cloud of dust. “They are coming!”
Father and son sprang into action. Jashemi kicked his mount, clinging to the creature as if molded to its furry, pale body. The sa’abah began to run, its hind legs devouring the sand in great long strides, its body stretching out to cut down resistance from the wind. It was trained as a hunting beast, and knew what to do.
Jashemi reached for the bow fastened to the saddle. In one gesture, he raised the bow and fitted an arrow to the string, holding it taut, straining with the pressure, until he had a clear shot. Then he opened