slammed in her face.
3
“Greetings, Lady,” said the servant by her elbow. He was an elderly fellow only an inch or two above her height. His wrinkled skin seemed more reddish than most Tarmaks and his ears were not as pointed. A simple sleeveless tunic of bleached linen hung on his thin frame, and a knotted blue rope was tied around his waist.
He bowed again and indicated the way down a long hall. “If the Drathkin’kela will follow me,” he said. Any hint of surprise was gone, and his expression assumed a bland servile mask under an awning of thick eyebrows. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and modulated as if trained to avoid giving offense.
Linsha took it any way. She was still feeling disgruntled. She crossed her arms and refused to move. “You speak Common well. Do you know more than just a greeting?”
“Assuredly, Lady. I speak several languages well, including Tarmakian, Damjatt, Nerakan, and your Common.”
She studied the man’s wrinkled face. He had light gray eyes, which he kept respectfully lowered. “Then tell me what this ‘drathkin-kela’ means. I am a Knight of the Rose, a trained warrior, not some silly female you can throw names at like a dog.”
He clasped his hands, a movement Linsha began to realize was a sign of respect. “Lady, the words are a title the warriors of the Akkad-Dar have given you. It means roughly ‘dragon friend’ or ‘chosen of the dragon.’ “
“Oh.” Linsha’s arms dropped and her hand moved to the dragon scales that hung on the chain around her neck. Her fingers clasped the scales under the wet wool of her tunic. “Is that a good thing?”
He gave her faint smile. “To them it is. Even though you are a human, you have been granted a place in the Akeelawasee where you will be treated with honor and respect.”
“Even though I am a human,” she repeated dryly. He made no mention of her status as Lanther’s betrothed. She wondered if Lanther had told anyone yet. “You must have learned Nerakan and Common from the Dark Knights.”
The man nodded. “Sir Bendic tutored me. A very skilled linguist. He learned Tarmakian in a few months.”
“Tarmakian I recognize. What is Damjatt? I thought that was the breed of horse the Tarmaks use.”
A wry glint lit his pale gray eyes. His thin mouth lost its smile. “The horses were once ours. Our pride and joy.” He paused then went on. “My people are the Damjatt, the people of the high grasslands. We were the last free tribe to fall before the Tarmak military might. Now we are merely beasts of burden, like our horses.”
“If you were the last,” Callista put in, “who was the first?”
“The Keena. They relied too heavily on their jungle to protect them.”
Linsha tilted her head in thought. The name sounded familiar to her. She had heard that before. Then she had it. Lanther had called in a Keena to seal their betrothal before they sailed, and a pair of Keena had guarded the dragon eggs when Lanther showed them to her. “Are they priests?” she asked.
“Those that survive. They are a deeply religious people, and those that still remain have found a place among the Tarmak as priests, seers, scholars, and… other things.”
Linsha snorted an unladylike sound. The Tarmaks obviously hadn’t treated their neighbors any better than they treated the people of the Plains. Feeling disgruntled, she strode forward without waiting for the servant or Callista. “What is this place?” she demanded as they hurried to catch up.
“It is the Akeelawasee,” the Damjatt replied.
“Which means what?”
“The Place of the Chosen Ones, Lady.”
Linsha glanced around. They were walking down a long corridor already dark with evening shadows. A few oil lamps spilled pools of light on the stone floors and illuminated delicate murals and decorations painted on the walls. It was so quiet she could hear the rain pounding on the roof. “Chosen for what?” she finally asked.
“For the emperor and the royal family. These females-or women as you call them-are the wives, daughters, concubines, and family of the emperor.” He stopped before a large door, threw it open, and waved the two women in. They stepped onto a gallery that overlooked a large room. Bright light filled their eyes, and a swarm of sounds buzzed around them.
Linsha blinked in surprise and looked down. She’d had no real previous conceptions about the Tarmak women. In the war for the Plains she had only dealt with the warriors and their ferocious, bloodthirsty lust for war. She’d never given the females much thought. A “Place of the Chosen Ones” brought to mind images of pampered women lolling about indolently on soft pillows waiting for their master’s pleasure. She hardly expected something that reminded her of a Solamnic training facility. The white-painted room was brightly lit with lamps that hung from the high timbered ceiling and cast a yellowish glow over the space below. Spread across the room were several dozen tall, muscular women engaged in various forms of exercise and physical training. All had tanned skin, dark hair, pointed ears, and all looked as fit as warriors.
Linsha stared.
The servant saw her face and tried to explain. “Lady, among the Tarmaks, all are instilled with an ideal of military virtue and discipline. The males are taught to fight and the females are expected to bear children to continue the glory of the Tarmak Empire. In order to bear healthy children, the women must also be healthy, so they are given vigorous exercise, a simple diet, taught faultless discipline, and-”
Linsha cut him off. “Oh, really? Faultless discipline? What about that one?” She pointed to a far corner of the room where an altercation seemed to be in progress. The young woman she had seen on the docks with Lanther had come in through another door and interrupted an older Tarmak woman working with stone weights. Her loud, insistent voice drew everyone’s attention.
“Well,” the servant said quietly, “possibly except for that one.”
“What is your name?” Linsha demanded. She didn’t mean to be so brusque, but nervousness and her bad mood were making her short tempered.
He hesitated, watching the conflict below with some nervousness, then said, “In this place I am called Afec. I am the apothecary and one of the elder slaves of the Akeelawasee. I have been told to bring you to the Empress.”
Linsha glared at the two Tarmaks arguing in the corner. “There is one?”
“Assuredly. Tzithcana is the Emperor’s first wife. She is the… matriarch. Is that the word?”
“Yes, if I understand what you mean.”
Afec hunched his shoulders and looked worriedly at her.
“Lady, if I may say. It would be best if you would obey the Empress’s commands. You are under the Akkad- Dar’s protection, but in here the Empress is the supreme ruler. If she does not accept you, you will not live long enough to lodge a complaint.”
A sudden shout from below brought the room to a standstill. Every person watched as the young Tarmak woman stalked across the room to the foot of the gallery stairs and pointed up at Linsha. She burst into another furious stream of Tarmakian. She must have said something shocking because the women around her gasped and stared up at Linsha.
Linsha felt her temper straining at the bit. She’d had about enough of this female and her vitriolic verbal attacks, and she still didn’t know what galled this woman so. She started to move forward when a hand brushed her arm.
“Drathkin’kela-” Afec said in a low-pitched warning.
“My name is Linsha Majere,” she snapped.
“Lady Linsha, the Empress demands respect, obedience, and self-control. Do not react to Malawaitha. The Empress will deal with her.”
Linsha’s green eyes flashed with anger, but the sense of his words reached her. If she had to live in this
