crosses and there were tons of doors. There was one wide road trailing through the city, some less wide ones leading off it but there were a bunch of narrow winding paths or steep, stone staircases that cut through the buildings. Mostly, though, it was all a bunch of buildings clearly built with no city planning in mind. They rose one, two, three, even six stories up, dark wood beams visible jutting into the sky or out the sides from the roof. All of it made from what looked like a cream-colored adobe.
Everything, in fact, was cream. The dirt and stone of the roads (not paved, just natural), walkways, the steep steps and the buildings, all of it.
But there was color. The wash lines that ran from building to building over roads or narrow pathways on which vibrant tops and sarongs hung. There were window boxes and brightly colored pots on small balconies and at the sides of doors that were filled with vivid flowers and trailing greenery (I had to say, there weren’t many of these, Korwahk clearly wasn’t filled with green thumbs – but there was enough to break up the cream, add a splash of color and give your eyes a beautiful surprise). The large squares that opened up off the main road were filled with market stalls that had colored tent tops over tables or striped awnings over stalls. And although most of the doors were bare wood, some were painted green, some red, some blue, some white, some black with blue, white and red stripes and some black (these were warriors’ homes, Lahn whispered in my ear as we rode, their doors painted to match the paint they wore on their bodies).
And the foot of each door held a small pile of blooms, a welcome home (again, whispered to me from Lahn), from the grateful citizens of Korwahn.
And as we road with petals drifting, The Horde that followed broke off when they arrived home or needed to turn down a lane so they could make it home so there were very few left at the top of the smaller plateau where Lahn stopped Lahkan at a double arched door that was painted in black with a glimmering gold stripe painted across them both. The only one with such markings that I saw and I was certain the only one with such markings in Korwahn.
Home.
At the sight of my gold and Lahn’s black on our door, my heart warmed and my belly fluttered. I was nervous and excited. I couldn’t wait to go through those doors and for some bizarre reason, I was scared to death at the same time.
I didn’t get a chance to puzzle through these emotions. Lahn dismounted, he pulled me off and then he took me inside.
It was cool inside; this was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was that there was a courtyard in the middle that was exposed to the elements and in it, with a beautiful mosaic-tiled base, was a small, gurgling fountain. All around the fountain and courtyard were colorful pots filled with spiked or trailing green plants. There were two stories and every door opened out to a balcony that faced or looked down on the courtyard.
The second thing I noticed was there was an older, slightly stooped, short, round woman approaching us. She had an abundance of coarse, steel gray in her dark hair, lots of wrinkles on her face and a bustling but economical manner.
I knew this had to be Twinka, the house slave Lahn told me about who looked after his residence while he was away.
And she didn’t like me, this I knew instantly, and I wasn’t sure she was all that hot on Lahn for she gave me a nod, Lahn a slight bow then stormed right by us without a word to stand outside the doors, plant her hands at her hips and scowl in the direction of the wagons that were coming up the rear.
“She was with my mother and father, this was their home too. She has called this home longer than I have and has spent vast amounts more time here than I have. She thinks of it as her own,” Lahn reminded me of something he’d told me the night before while we were lying under the stars on our hides.
“Mm hmm,” I muttered, staring at Twinka’s straight back.
“She does anything you do not like, I’ll whip her myself,” Lahn muttered back in Korwahk, my eyes snapped to him and Twinka, whose elderly status obviously didn’t affect her ears, harrumphed loudly.
I ignored the harrumph and hissed at Lahn in English, “You will not.”
“Meena,” Lahn said to me then his eyes turned to Twinka and he finished firmly, “kay jahkan.”*
I pressed my lips together.
Lahn’s eyes came back to me and he glared at my lips.
I unpressed them.
Lahn glare melted and he grinned.
I rolled my eyes.
Then Lahn turned to Twinka, “Uvoo kah Dahksahna el cuun, boh. Lee aka lapan ansha bel fahkah yo na geenheeso.”**
“Meena, kah Dax,” she muttered, stomping back our way, “kay pahnsay yo nahna tahnhan.”***
I couldn’t help it, at her muttered, skating on insubordinate words I pressed my lips together as my eyes grew big.
Lahn kept smiling at me.
“If you whip her,” I said in English, “I won’t speak to you for a week.”
Lahn’s smile faded before he replied in English, “If she does something to earn the tip of my lash, you will not do a thing.”
Oh right. I forgot.
“Right,” I whispered, “I forgot.”
Lahn looked at me a second, then he looked to the ceiling, likely for deliverance. Twinka made an impatient noise.
I took off for my tour.
Even if there was a lot of it, there wasn’t much to it. Lots of rooms, not a lot of furniture. Not that I could take too much in, Twinka was practically running, pointing at things, muttering words I barely caught, clearly thinking she had better things to do than give her new queen a tour and wanted to get this over with so she could boss around the girls when they arrived.
I did see they didn’t really have furniture in Korwahn. Mostly lots of cushions and thick rugs over tiled floors. Even the dining room-ish room had a long, very low table with twelve big cushions set on the floor around it. There was no room with a desk in it that would say “study”. There were six bedrooms and each had a bathroom- ish type room off it with chamber pot behind a screen and basin with jug of water and the master (I was guessing it was the master) had another room with a big, carved wood wardrobe and an actual chaise lounge. Each bedroom had real-ish beds, that was to say, the platform was two feet off the ground, the mattress was twice as thick as the one in our cham, there were twice as many pillows at the head and it was covered in silk sheets (no hides) and intricately embroidered silk quilts. But no headboard or footboard.
The best of the lot in the house was the bathing room off the master suite that was really like a bathing pool, with cool blue and green mosaic tiles and blue and green pads on the edges. The bath was big enough to swim in and had a big window that opened to a balcony that looked out over Korwahn and the vista beyond it. At my delighted intake of breath, Twinka grudgingly slid up a heavy, wooden door and a gush of steaming water flowed into the bath. I saw that the bottom of the bath had a slight decline and there were four narrow pieces of some gummy type substance that plugged up drains at the opposite end to the water.
“We have,” she stated haughtily in Korwahk, “a direct feed from the hot spring. We are,” she went on snootily, “one of only seven houses in all of Korwahn who have such a blessing.”
I nodded thinking blessing was the word for it. The water gushing in (before she slammed the door down again), was clear and clean and steaming and I could not freaking wait to take a bath.
Twinka stomped out, I followed her and we continued our tour. I noticed on the walls there were interesting paintings or sheets of copper or silver with designs pounded in the metal and even heavy, carved framed mirrors (and, seeing myself for the first time in months, I had to say, Korwahk sun, Jacanda painted face, love and pregnancy suited me – even I had to admit, I looked freaking great).
It was all sparkling clean and clearly well taken care of by Twinka who looked like she could keel over at any minute but moved like she was about twenty-three.
That was kind of it except for the square roof (with the courtyard hole in it) which was absolutely freaking awesome. It had a bunch of colorful pots, huge to very small, filled with spiked greens, trailing plants and vibrant
