On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [52]
Shaking with anger and pain, Yeshi turned and made her way up the stairs as silently as she had come.
Tahmu had begun coming to bed late. It was easier on them both if he lay beside Yeshi while she was asleep rather than awake. He disrobed quietly in the bedroom, not lighting the lamp, when suddenly one flamed to life.
He turned, surprised. “Yeshi, I hope I did not….”
The words died on his lips at the expression on his wife’s face. He had thought that he had seen the worst she could offer him when he had taken their daughter, but now he almost physically quailed. There was stone in that gaze, and a hatred that went much deeper than mere rage and grief.
“I saw them today,” she said, her voice calm, almost conversational. “In the caverns, playing Shamizan. Talking. Laughing. Just like brother and sister.”
He should have known this day would come, but he had hoped…“I never wanted you to know,” he said.
“Of course not!” Yeshi’s voice cracked like a whip. “Of course you wanted me kept ignorant, wanted me to be laughed at by my son, my women, your Bai-sha daughter—”
“I did not want to hurt you,” Tahmu said. “Jashemi and Sahlik are the only ones who know, and Sahlik tells me none of the other servants suspect. Not even Kevla knows.”
“Well, then, that makes it all right, doesn’t it, that you broke our vows, slept with—”
“Kevla is older than Jashemi, or haven’t you noticed?” replied Tahmu defensively. “I never broke my vows to you.”
“Then it’s the halaan’s child?”
Tahmu flinched at the crude word, sick that the epithet was truer than Yeshi knew.
“By the Dragon, Tahmu, that makes it worse….how could you do this? How could you take our daughter, born legitimate, and leave her to die, and yet bring your Bai-sha into our home?”
For a moment, she looked down at her hands, balled into small fists atop the silky sheets. She looked less angry and more hurt, and Tahmu felt pity stir in him. As he had said to Jashemi, Yeshi’s only real crime was that she was not the woman he loved. He went to her and sat beside her on the bed, but as he reached to put his hand over one of hers, she jerked to life and struck him. He tasted blood.
“I want her out,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “I want her beaten until the blood runs down her skinny little back, I want to scratch her face and—”
“No.”
His conviction halted her flood of vitriol. She seemed startled. “What?”
“No. Kevla will not be beaten. She will not be sent away. She has done nothing wrong.”
“She is your Bai-sha!”
He met her gaze levelly. “That is my wrongdoing, not hers. The only thing Kevla has done is to be a good servant to you. Until today you doted on her.”
“She should not have been with Jashemi!”
“I suspect the boy is at fault, not Kevla. But I am responsible for the girl. I swore to keep her safe. That she would always have food, a place to sleep, protection. I will not break that vow, not even for you.”
Yeshi’s eyes flashed, then the light in them seemed to die. “I cannot order her from this house without your permission, khashim. But I will not have her attend me another moment. I will put her to work in the kitchens. I will find a place where she cannot have the comfort of other women to laugh and talk with. And I will forbid my son to ever, ever see her again.”
Tahmu felt as if he had swallowed a heavy weight. This was not what he had envisioned, that day two years ago when he had set Kevla before him on Swift’s back, when he had taken her away from everything she had known.
Now, he would have to do that to her again, except this time, she was not trading a difficult life for an easier one. This time, she was trading a life she had come to enjoy for one that would be harsh and trying. He had taught her to believe that she was worthy of a good life. Now, he would rip that away from her.
His voice breaking, he said to Yeshi, “You told me