blind.'
Tazi was dumbfounded. She pulled the woman closer to the light and tilted her face upward. By the gentle radiance of the torch, Tazi was able to see the woman's eyes were icy white. There was no recognition in them.
'That explains why you're such a terrible fighter,' Tazi said, chuckling. 'You really couldn't see them coming.'
'While that may be true, I certainly was able to smell them.' The woman grinned back.
Tazi's face broke into a genuine smile. She liked this woman. The daughter of Thamalon Uskevren felt herself a good judge of character and acted on her instincts.
'Well, if we are to be traveling together, even such a short distance as this street, it would help to know your name,' Tazi remarked.
'I am called Fannah il'Qun,' the woman said, with a slight flourish.
'And I,' Tazi said with slightly more bravado, 'am called Tazi. When I'm out in this quarter, dressed as I am now,' she added, 'that is the only name I go by.'
'Then I will have to 'see' what you are wearing,' Fannah told her.
Tazi was perplexed as to what the woman meant by 'seeing,' considering her condition. She had never before come across someone who was sightless. Curiosity won her over. Tazi rounded the corner, away from prying eyes, and told Fannah to go ahead and 'see,' whatever that meant.
The foreigner gently raised her hands and reached for Tazi's thick hair. Delicately, she let her sensitive fingers trail through its thickness and moved her hands over her rescuer's features. She could feel Tazi's smooth skin, high cheekbones and delicate mouth. There was the trace of face powder, and a whiff of perfume that hinted at a pampered life. What her fingertips could not reveal was the sea green of Tazi's eyes. She could tell, however, that Tazi was slightly taller than she was. As her hands traveled down Tazi's slender but muscular arms, Fannah could 'see' that Tazi was wearing atypical fashion for a lady. In fact, Fannah realized Tazi was not wearing the clothes of a lady at all. Her trained fingers recognized the texture of leather and silk. The cut of Tazi's clothing lent itself more to the style of covert activities, most often carried out by men. Fannah's mouth turned up in a smile.
'I take it that you see now,' Tazi asked.
'Yes,' Fannah answered in her rich voice. 'I think I begin to understand. You're not quite what you seem.'
'Well, I am and I'm not. That all remains to be seen,' Tazi added, suddenly not wishing this stranger to know so much. 'Enough of this! All this playing about has given me a terrible thirst. Would care to join me for a drink?'
Fannah was momentarily at a loss for words. Her confusion was apparent,
'Well, I've obviously ruined your evening plans by bloodying your companions. The least I can do,' Tazi offered grandly, 'is make my services available in their place.'
The raven-haired stranger took only a moment to make up her mind. Life had long ago taught her to accept what was given to her. She graciously offered her arm. Tazi noticed a strange design on it, but she made no mention of it. She gathered Fannah up as a proper escort should, and the two made their way onto Larawkan Lane. Tazi raised her free hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to suppress the giggles spilling out of her. By the time she swung open the battered door to the Shattered Kit Fox, both women were laughing uncontrollably. As the Kit was not the most respectable of places, none of the patrons batted an eye at the scene the 'young man' and his lady friend were creating.
Tazi and Fannah seated themselves at a table in a discrete corner of the taproom. A plump serving girl lit the gutted candle sealed to the table by all the melted wax and took their orders. She was new and did not recognize Tazi. That suited the disguised Uskevren just fine. It seemed to Tazi far too many people recognized her tonight. The only one to acknowledge Tazi when she and her companion entered the smoke-filled room was Alall Ulol, one of the inn's owners. Of course he should recognize her, for he was the one she made her monthly payments to. The family's estate, Stormweather Towers, was a grand enough home, but Tazi felt the need to keep quarters that were wholly her own, with no attachment to her more 'respectable' life. The Kit suited her completely.
Not certain whom Tazi was with, Alall stiffened behind the bar. His jowls, prominent by their covering of thick, gray sideburns, tightened and Tazi knew he was ready to lend aid if she needed it. She gave a quick nod of assurance, and he relaxed. After three years, he took more than a passing interest in her welfare. She in turn had come to trust Alall and his wife, Kalakalan. Kalli knew more about Tazi than anyone else.
When their drinks arrived, Tazi began to prod Fannah about her predicament. While she herself rarely talked about personal matters, save to Kalli and occasionally to the family butler, Erevis Cale, Tazi made a point of discovering as much as she could about those around her. Cale had taught her that knowledge was a valuable commodity. Plus, a blind woman wandering around unaccompanied in an unfamiliar part of the city must be an interesting tale. Before Fannah could tell her very much, however, Tazi felt a presence behind her. Fannah sensed someone as well and fell silent.
Tazi discreetly leaned forward, as though tipsy, and pulled her dagger from her right boot. The moment the person tapped her on the shoulder, she whirled, dagger drawn. The ragged beggar flinched but held his ground.
'Sorry.' Tazi smirked as she recognized the old man. She had a network of informants, and he was one of her most reliable. 'Do you have what I want?'
'I wouldn't be here otherwise,' he wheezed. He pulled out a small scrap of paper with a few spidery lines on it. 'A certain residence you were searching for,' he offered.
Tazi sheathed her weapon and snatched up the paper, squinting at it briefly while Fannah calmly sipped her drink. When Tazi was certain she could read the old man's scrawls, she handed him her untouched tankard and discreetly slipped him a coin. Judging from his expression, she wasn't certain which item pleased him more.
Tazi threw her dagger into a timber near the bar to catch Alall's eye. Ignoring his fuming look, she smiled sweetly and motioned for another round.
'I guess I still don't understand.' Tazi continued her conversation with Fannah as though there had been no interruption. 'What you're saying is that your mother sold you because you were blind?'
Tazi forced herself to stare into Fannah's ice-white eyes. She slowly realized she found them disquieting. She had a difficult time believing Fannah couldn't see her with them. She also had trouble reconciling the life Fannah had lived with the now-composed woman seated before her. Fannah's nonexistent relationship with her mother gave Tazi pause. While she and her own mother, Shamur, bickered bitterly at times, Tazi knew in her heart that her mother could never even think of something so cruel.
Fannah tilted her head, birdlike, and brushed a strand of her blue-black hair from her face. 'She wanted to kill me at birth,' she replied calmly, 'but her religion prevented that. I was fortunate she was so pious, not to mention that she was a beauty. Men paid a great deal of money for the company of Ibina il'Qun. Because of that, a local festhall in the city of Calimport paid well for me. They were sure I would grow to be as beautiful as my mother and perhaps follow in her footsteps.'
At this remark, Tazi clicked her tongue as if to say 'That's obvious!'
'But what could a young, blind girl offer a festhall?' she asked aloud.
'It did not take me long to learn the layout of the Desert's End,' Fannah explained. 'Once I was comfortable with it I was as competent as any serving girl. There were patrons who would pay extra to keep their identities secret. A blind girl seemed an obvious choice to accommodate them. What most people forget is that it is not just their faces that name them, but their voices and even'-she crinkled her nose in mock disgust-'their smells.'
'Did you ever have to take up your mother's profession?' Tazi asked quietly.
'I was fortunate,' Fannah answered without hesitation. 'That was something I did not have to sell to anyone. When my time was up with the End, someone else bought my contract. He never told me his name, not once during the long journey here. The only demand he made of me was to place a mark on my arm.' Fannah stretched out her right forearm for Tazi's inspection.
It was the tattoo Tazi had noticed in the street. She tried to place the familiar design. Tazi knew she had seen one like it recently. In a flash of memory, she recalled the exotic mark Ciredor bore on his neck.
'Once we arrived,' Fannah continued, unaware of Tazi's revelation, 'he promptly abandoned me without explanation.'
