Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [12]
Mourngrym did however, and he rose to his feet with Scotty seated in the crook of his arm "Mourngrym, you remember Akabar bel Akash?" Alias asked. "He was a member of my party when I first visited Shadowdale."
"The 'mage of no small water,' " Mourngrym said, recalling the phrase Akabar had often used.
Akabar bowed low "I'm honored you remember me, your lordship," the Turmishman said.
Mourngrym grinned. In his experience, it was seldom that a mage lived long enough to prove his boasts. Alias had told his lordship the story of how the Turmishman had defeated the evil god Moander. Akabar was indeed a 'mage of the first water,' as his people would say. "And who is the lady?" Mourngrym asked, finally drawing Alias's attention to the woman standing behind Akabar.
Akabar stepped to one side. "Your lordship, Alias, Dragon-bait," Akabar said,
"may I present, Zhara, Priestess of Tymora."
Zhara took a step forward. She was as tall as Alias, but her green eyes and slender brown hands were the only parts of her body not covered by the blue robes of her calling or the long blue and white veil draped across her face. "I am honored to meet you," Zhara said softly. She curtsied low, but she did not remove her veil.
Mourngrym bowed and Dragonbait nodded, but Alias eyed the priestess with annoyance. She didn't like clerics or priests. Dragonbait was always trying to convince her that she felt this way because Cassana and the swordswoman's other evil makers had enchanted her, but Alias rejected that idea. She didn't like members of the clergy because, as far as she was concerned, they were a nearly useless bunch of fools-even those who served Tymora, Lady Luck, the goddess of adventurers. Why in the world is Akabar traveling with a priestess? she wondered
As if he read her mind, Akabar explained, "Zhara is my third wife."
Anger and disappointment stabbed at the pleasure Alias had felt at seeing Akabar again A moment ago, she had imagined their reunion would be just like old times, but the presence of one of his wives put a damper on that hope. With the exception of Dragonbait, Akabar was the swordswoman's oldest friend in the world. He had helped Alias on her quest to discover her origins, but if Alias had had her way, she'd have never met this woman.
To avoid just such a meeting, Alias had once claimed that she was unable to stand the heat of the south and declined an invitation to accompany Akabar to his home in Turmish. The swordswoman hadn't wanted to face the scrutiny of his wives. Though she'd never been south, Alias had heard how insufferably proud southern women were of the way they lived: their modest dress, their subservient soft speech, their efficient households and businesses, their innumerable children. They were all greengrocers. Alias's term for boring nonadventurers, and Alias couldn't imagine them welcoming a wandering sell-sword with no real family. Even more unbearable than the thought of their disapproval had been the thought of sharing Akabar's company and attention with women he was closer to than he was to her.
"I was under the impression that southern women didn't travel away from home," the sell-sword said coolly as she sat down at the table and motioned for Akabar to take the seat beside her.
"My sister-wives, Akash and Kasim, have charged me to protect our husband from the barbarians of the north," Zhara replied matter-of-factly, slipping herself into the chair that Alias had intended for Akabar. Akabar seated himself between Zhara and Dragonbait.
Uneasy because of the tension he sensed. Lord Mourngrym turned toward the door of the inn. "If you'll excuse me," his lordship said, "I think I'd better head back home before the rain starts falling harder. I'll leave you