On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [96]
He swallowed hard. “Speak,” he ordered his daughter.
She was crying so hard that she could not. Her hair had come undone from its customary braid and fell like a black river down her back and face. Her body shook with each sob.
Tahmu could not help himself. Knowing full well that he should not, he stepped forward and raised her, shaking her gently to get her attention.
Her head came up and she looked him full in the face. He had not looked at her so for many years, and with a pang realized that she had blossomed into a true beauty. There was much of him in her face still, but more of the radiant, exquisite Keishla.
His words to her came back to haunt him as he stared at their child: This I swear to you—she will never want for food or a safe place to sleep. No man will dare lay a hand on her without my permission.
He had lied to his true love, had betrayed her trust in him. Now, he feared he would have to do something every bone in his body screamed at him not to do.
“Kevla,” he said, for her ears alone, “give me something, anything, to defend you with. Tell me you didn’t do this thing and I will believe you.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. They spilled down her cheeks as she replied, “I wasn’t trying to hurt her, great lord. I was trying to save you. Yeshi and Halid have been conspiring against—”
Her voice continued speaking, but Tahmu didn’t hear another word. Even she had confessed to her evil.
My daughter has become a demon.
He let her go and with a sudden rush of pain and anger shoved her. She fell backward hard; no one rushed to break the kuli’s fall.
“Take her,” he ordered, fighting to keep his composure. “Take her and build the fire. Lock her in her room and bring her out when it is time. No food, no water. The Great Dragon is clear about what to do with kulis and those whom they have cursed.”
He looked her in the eye. He owed her that much.
“The kuli will burn.”
The color left her face, but she made no sound. She stared at him. Her lips parted as if to speak, but if she said anything, he did not hear it; it was drowned out by the cries of the crowd. They were jubilant, angry, ready to see justice done. Tahmu stood rigid, his knees locked lest they tremble and betray him, and watched as Halid dragged the lost girl away. The crowd dispersed, returning to their duties. They would be in the courtyard on the morrow, ready to watch the demon die, knowing that their khashim was keeping them safe.
Tahmu went inside and closed the door. Moving quickly, he ducked down a corridor and into a little-used room. There, where no one could see him, Tahmu-kha-Rakyn, the most powerful khashim in Arukan, slid slowly down the cool stone wall to the floor. He wept silently, as he had not done since he had abandoned Keishla for the good of the Clan. Now he had pronounced a death sentence on the living symbol of their passionate, forbidden love.
Alone in her bedroom, hearing the cheers of the crowd as she drifted in and out of consciousness, Yeshi smiled through her pain.
Jashemi enjoyed riding alone. The last few weeks, he had hardly been able to seize any time for himself. Not that he regretted his decision. He and Melaan had shared everything they remembered about their dreams, and the Second had supported him in his desire to unite the clans. A year ago, this vision that both he and his father shared had seemed like a child’s tale. Now, faced with the threat of the strange armies from over the mountains, the clans seemed much more inclined to talk. Several of them had already come for a meeting, and things sounded promising.
It caught him in midgallop.
Suddenly his chest constricted and his vision swam. Fear with no name washed through him, causing him to gasp and his sa’abah to slow, sensing a change in its rider. One hand crept up to clutch his chest.