as if he were considering the request. 'I will speak with the prisoners on Jamal's behalf. It could be that these are not demons, and even if they are, I will trust in the power of the First Smith to protect me from their ill wishing. Perhaps courtesy will win from them what contempt would not.'
He could not keep himself from adding that last; the temptation was too great to overcome. The warrior only ducked his head a little between his shoulders, as if he could hide his shame by imitating a tortoise.
'You may bring the female to me as I break my fast,' Diric added, and waved a dismissing hand. The warrior seemed only too pleased to escape.
Kala returned from settling their two guests, burdened with his morning meal. 'They are charming children, and the girl looks well in that jabba of pale cream,' she said, settling the tray beside him. 'The one that I made for Besheba, but which she outgrew ere I finished the embroidery?'
He nodded, even though he hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about. Most clothing looked alike to him, except that it was new or old, this color or that, but Kala's one failing was that she never could believe that. 'I think she will be more comfortable properly clothed, and it was kind of you to think on,' he said, his voice warm with approval. 'Now—here is a sudden change in things, and I have need of your thoughts! Jamal sent to me a man but a few moments ago—'
He described Jamal's messenger and the message, while Kala sat completely still, absorbing all of it. Her dark eyes flashed with pleasure at Shana's cleverness, and she nodded her round head vigorously.
'Ah, that was well done, husband!' she exclaimed, but not so loudly that her voice would carry past the walls of the tent, or past the floor beneath. 'Now we may put forth your 0wn scheme the easier!'
'I wish you to remain with me for this little while,' he said, making his wish a request. 'If you can spare the time, that is. You are better with locks than I; perhaps you can determine a way in which to unlock the collars, and make it possible to remove them without revealing that they are no longer locked.'
'Gladly,' she told him, her smile widening, making a white crescent across her face like a sliver of moon in the night sky. 'I would like to meet this so-clever maiden; perhaps I should instruct her on the ways of a Man-Hearted Woman, so that she can claim that distinction as well! It would force Jamal to acknowledge her as a war-captive, and not as a slave, if she did.'
'That is well thought,' he chuckled. 'Very well thought! It had not occurred to me. Jamal will be most discomfited; you know he is not in comfort when he must speak even to our own Man-Hearted Women, and this will vex him greatly!'
He chuckled again, thinking of Jamal's extreme discomfort if Shana were to successfully claim that she was Man-Hearted. She would then officially be a war-captive, and Jamal would be forbidden by law and custom to put her or her underlings to the question; he would be completely unable to question her effectively, and her mere presence would make him uneasy. Oh, Kala was a clever one!
'You remind me yet again why I sought your hand,' he told her, capturing her plump hand in his and squeezing it, 'though I still cannot comprehend why it was my suit that you favored.'
'That is why I keep to your tent, silly boy,' she teased, returning the caress. 'You value wisdom, which lasts, over a slim-hipped and lissome figure, which does not! Ah—I hear them coming!'
Regretfully he released her hand, and put on his 'Priest face.' As he had expected, Shana arrived with a full contingent of Jamal's guards. Well, that would be changed. Henceforth, he would have his own men fetch her.
Trusted men. I believe I know who Jamal's eyes and ears are among the Priests, but I shall keep risks to a minimum.
'So.' He regarded Shana with a stem gaze. 'I understand that you wish to impart knowledge to me.'
She nodded, and cast scornful glances to either side of her, as if to make it plain that she was not going to speak even in the presence of Jamal's underlings. 'You know the ways of courtesy to a war-captive and a leader, Priest Diric. I will give you my word not to cause trouble nor escape; to you, and no other,' she replied shortly, and shut her mouth firmly.
He wondered if her phrasing was accidental or deliberate, for she had implied that Jamal was ignorant of proper behavior. He caught grimaces from one or two of her guards, and hidden grins from others. Hmm. And perhaps those last agree with her? Interesting. I wonder how many of his own people Jamal has offended with his high-handed ways. He glanced aside at Kala, remembering their conversation. All of the Man-Hearted Women, I would think. Perhaps I should begin offering them the counsel of the First Smith, and remind them that the First Daughter had a Manly Heart and fought beside her brother to great honor…
'I do,' he told the girl gravely. 'And I shall offer that courtesy to you now, as I have in the past.' He looked to the guards. 'You may go. The war-captive has given her word and her parole to me.'
They were not slow to leave, making him wonder the more. Were they that eager to return to Jamal with word that they had completed their mission—or was the embarrassment of the mission so distasteful that they could not have it done with quickly enough?
As soon as they were out of the tent and gone, Kala clapped both hands over her mouth, stifling a giggle, and Shana relaxed, grinning at them both.
'Did you see how they scurried away?' Kala gasped around her laughter. 'Oh, the shame! They will not make themselves prominent to Jamal's eyes any time soon! I think they will see to it that they volunteer for night watch and far scouting, and nothing near to Jamal's tent or his regard!'
'You think so?' Diric felt immensely cheered; Kala was better at reading the subtle signals of body and expression than he. 'All to the good. Shana, this is Kala, my wife. Kala, this Is our demon.''
'I am very pleased to meet you,' Shana replied gravely, and half-bowed. Kala waved an impatient hand at her.
'None of that!' she exclaimed, though Diric could tell that she was pleased. 'I am no demon lady to be bowed to!'
'Nevertheless,' Shana replied, 'respect where it is due—and speaking of respect, what did you think of my play? We all matched wits after I got back, and this was the one notion we thought would give us unlimited access to you.'
Diric nodded with approval. 'It was a risk, but no more than we already have undertaken, and since you made your declaration public, Jamal could not do anything other than he did without incurring more shame or declaring open warfare between the two of us. That would tear the clan apart, and even Jamal is not prepared to do that.'
Yet.
Shana shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, precisely as the messenger had done earlier. 'I knew it was a greater risk than you're saying,' she admitted. 'I hoped that your people didn't have a tradition of torturing captives… but I knew that was a possibility if Jamal was so angry with me that his anger overcame his sense.'
She was wiser than he thought, and much older than her years. Then again, she had been, according to her own words, a captive of the real green-eyed demons, and perhaps she had seen cruelties among them that gave her that hard-won wisdom.
'Come, sit,' he said instead, neither confirming nor denying her statement. 'Kala is something of an expert in locks; let her look at your collar.' As Shana obeyed, taking a seat on one of the fat pillows with no sign of reluctance, he added, 'We first unearthed them from the coffers of the First Smith when we captured the two males. They are very old, and I had not seen the like before, but it was in the orders of the Priests that a store of them was to be kept intact to hold demons, and that they were not to be melted down nor reused in any other ways.'
Shana tilted her chin to the side as Kala examined the lock of the collar. His wife made some soft sounds, as she always did when she was looking closely at anything, and in a moment she made a
'Simplicity,' she said in quiet triumph. 'Let me get my tools.'
She rose and whisked off into the private quarters, returning in no time with a leather pouch of the fine tools that all women-smiths used in making their jewels. 'This lock is very fine, very old,' she said, settling herself beside Shana, and opening up the pouch to remove a set of probes. 'It has the look of something made by a woman, in fact. It is a trifle more complicated than some I have seen, but not as complicated as many I have made myself.'
'How old do you think it is?' Shana asked with interest.
