height and his walk half a man.
'Samae.' She appeared, sinking to her knees before him. 'You will go to the boy tonight.' Her head jerked up and for an astonishing instant she stared straight at him. She shook her head roughly. He slapped her. Red burned on the fine pale parchment of her cheek. 'I said you will go to him,' Jiroannes repeated, offended and infuriated by her defiance.
She sat there, head bowed, for long enough that he thought he was going to have to hit her again. Then she rose and padded away across the grass. Jiroannes watched as she paused before the tent. She glanced back, once, to see him looking at her, and then she knelt and a moment later she had vanished into the small tent.
'Was that wisely done, eminence?' Syrannus asked in a soft voice.
'The boy is old enough, clearly, and if she is his first, then the honor is the greater. He admired her but was polite enough not to say so to me. It will make him grateful to me, and he will speak to his cousin of my generosity. So we begin to build a bridge on which to negotiate. Now, since Samae is not here, send Lal to undress me.' He went to his tent, but he paused at the entrance to see that Syrannus was still staring out at the little tent, at the campfires glowing around them, at the night and the vivid sky, black splintered with bright stars.
'We shall see,' said Syrannus quietly.
In the morning, while Jiroannes sat in his chair as the camp was struck around him, he caught Samae glancing up at the boy. She had paused beside one of the wagons, about to place into the bed the little carved chest that held his jewels and sashes and seals of office; she looked up briefly, toward Mitya saddling his horse. Mitya remained intent on his task. From this distance, Jiroannes could not see the boy's expression, but something in his carriage betrayed a new confidence. Samae seemed unaware that her master watched her. Something touched her lips, something unknown, an expression he did not recognize. For an instant he thought it was a smile, but he dismissed the idea immediately. Samae never smiled. Distaste, probably. Still, he would send her to the boy every now and then. Such generosity would seal their relationship. Content, he allowed the guards to take his chair and bring him his horse. For the first time, he felt confident that his mission would succeed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When Diana woke, she found Anatoly lying on his side, watching her. He smiled and reached out to trace her lips with one finger.
'Good morning, Diana,' he said in Rhuian, looking pleased with himself. She repeated the greeting, haltingly, in khush, and he looked even more pleased. He said another sentence in khush, but she had to shake her head because she could not understand him. He cocked his head to one side and tried again, some words meant, perhaps, to be Rhuian. Diana laughed, because they were equally incomprehensible. And yet, she did not feel awkward with him at all. Not that there was much left for her to feel awkward about, after last night.
She smiled at him. The set of his body, his eyes, the curve of his mouth, all revealed what he thought of her. Blankets covered him to the hips; above that, he was bare. His one shoulder was a mass of fresh scars. She ran a hand up his chest and plumbed the curve of his neck and the strong line of his chin. She touched her hand to his mouth.
'Lips,' she said. 'Eyes. Hand.'
He mirrored her. 'Lips. Eyes. Hand.' Then he repeated them in khush, and went on. 'Ears. Nose. Hair. Neck. Shoulder. Arm.'
'Ah, none of that yet. Breast, but chest, too. Elbow.'
A wicked gleam lit his eyes. He grasped one of her hands and drew it down along his torso, all the way down. 'Pes. '
'Anatoly!' She laughed. 'That will hardly help me communicate with the rest of your people.' However diffident he may have been before, out in the world, however reserved and modest, here in her bed he was not bashful at all, and anything but modest. The blankets slipped off him as he rolled with her off the pillows and on to the stiff carpet, but he only grinned and said something to her, sharp and passionate, before running his hands down to her thighs-
And then, of course, a man called to them from outside.
Anatoly jerked his head up at the sound. He swore. The voice spoke again, and its tone was clearly apologetic but firm. Anatoly made a great gesture out of a sigh, rolled to his knees, and wrapped a blanket around himself before going to the entrance. Diana scrambled to the pillows and covered herself. Anatoly twitched the entrance flap aside and directed a rude comment at their inopportune visitor. In reply, a long explanation was forthcoming, and Diana watched as Anatoly's shoulders reflected first anger, then resignation, then excitement, and then, last, turning to regard her, some emotion caught between reluctance and eagerness.
He knelt beside her and kissed her lingeringly, sighing against her face. 'I love you,' he said, first in Rhuian and after, more slowly, in khush. Then he rose, got dressed, strapped on his saber, and left her.
That abruptly. Diana stared at the flap as it rustled down behind him. She was alone. Not to mention that she was utterly bewildered. Listening, she heard horses riding away. She dressed quickly in a tunic, long skirt, and boots, and went outside. Anatoly was nowhere in sight, but the jaran camp was in an uproar. Loaded wagons creaked past. A troop of horsemen rode by. She could not imagine finding Anatoly in such chaos. Besides, she needed to use the necessary. And she desperately wanted to wash.
She walked over to the Company camp, only to find that it, too, was being struck. Although, thank the Goddess, the necessary was still intact: first up, last down. Quinn saw her and yelped in surprise, waving, attracting attention to her, but Diana slipped quickly inside the little tent. Although she lingered there, stripping and washing herself all over, shivering at the cold water, when she finally came out she had an audience.
'Well?' demanded Quinn. Hyacinth had an arm around Quinn, and he was smirking. 'Was he any good?' he asked. 'Is he circumcised?'
'You ought to know whether they're circumcised, Hyacinth,' retorted Diana. 'You've slept with more of them than I have. Or so you say.'
He giggled.
'Oh, leave her alone,' said Hal. 'Come on, Diana. Can you help? We've fallen behind. We were supposed to leave an hour ago.'
'Where are we going?'
'Didn't he tell you?'
'How could he? We scarcely know any words in common.' Then she flushed, remembering the language they did speak.
Hyacinth laughed. 'You see, Di, I told you they were easy to communicate with. You're looking satisfied. Where is your blue-eyed paramour, anyway?'
She set her lips together, not wanting to telegraph every least thing about herself to Hyacinth, of all people. 'Where's Yomi?' she asked instead.
'Over at Soerensen's camp,' said Hal.
'Whatever for?'
'They're working out logistics-oh.' He faltered. 'You wouldn't have heard. Soerensen is leaving.'
'Leaving?'
'We're moving south with the army. He's going north. There's some site out there-'
'Site?'
'I don't know. Something archaeological, I think. Anyway, he's going north, and then I guess his party will meet up with us later.' He lifted one hand to stop her protest. 'Don't ask me any more questions. That's all I know. Are you going to load your tent in with our wagons, or is some other provision being made for it?'
'I don't know.' She shook her head. 'I don't know what's going on.' Suddenly she missed Anatoly so acutely that it was like a physical pain.
Hal took her by both shoulders and examined her closely, then kissed her on the forehead. 'Maybe you'd better go see Yomi. Go on. I'll tell Mom and Dad where you went.'
Diana went. Soerensen's enclave no longer existed. All the tents were down except for Dr. Hierakis's tent, and David ben Unbutu supervised while Maggie and Joe and Rijiv and Ursula loaded the wagons. An astonishing
