Then again, who wouldn’t be?
* * * * *
I got to attend the Ceremony of the Paint where the queen’s warriors painted each other with their new stripes (the Xacto, I’m sure, not there because of me and the other wives who attended).
I sat on my throne of horns in the massive clearing at the very top of the top plateau that was meant for official business and I watched as the warriors were painted with three thin black strips that curved from a point at their shoulder blade, over their shoulder to a point at their pectoral. Three more were painted from that point and around their arm to the front. And one thick gold strip was painted in the middle around the tip of their shoulder.
They did not wear this paint for ceremonies. They wore it every day.
Lahn told me they did it with pride.
I was amazed and touched by this too.
So much, I burst into tears.
Lahn held me until I cried myself out.
When I was done, I explained it was hormones. Then I explained what hormones were.
He looked at me like I was crazy.
Then, wisely, he let it go.
Zahnin was their commander. Bain, Feetak, Bohtan, Tark and Yoonan his lieutenants.
Narinda told me Feetak, a young warrior who’d only made his first kill nine years ago (which meant at sixteen years of age, um… yikes!) was very pleased at this huge jump in rank.
It meant more sarongs for her for Lahn was paying them all out of his own coin and it was more than they made raiding or warring (seriously, my man had to be loaded… I mean, five hundred warriors?).
It also made her happy.
So I was happy too.
* * * * *
Yes. I was happy. Korwahn was good. Life was good. The only thing that wasn’t good was morning sickness but that only lasted until around ten.
Everything else was good.
And would be for one more day.
Then my husband went to war.
* * * * *
“Kah Lahnahsahna, kah lipa,” Lahn muttered, I blinked and looked up at him.
It was time to do his hair.
He sat on the bed beside me and planted his hand in it on my other side.
“Do you feel well enough to do it?” he asked, his eyes on my (probably pale) face.
I did but I probably wouldn’t once I sat up.
But there was no way I was giving up the chance to have my fingers in his beautiful hair. Not now. Not when the day after tomorrow brought Lahkan to our door, Lahn on Lahkan’s back and my king riding off to war to avenge a wrong done me.
“Yeah,” I whispered, sucked in breath, got up and walked to the small trunk that held his gold bands. “How do you want it?”
“Bunched,” he stated, I nodded, grabbed what I needed and returned to the bed.
He moved to sit cross-legged on the floor by the side of the bed. I sat on the bed cross-legged behind him, gathered his hair and memorized the feel of it as I bunched it.
When I’d put the last band in, I circled his shoulders with my arms and rested my chin on one.
“You know I love you,” I whispered in his ear.
“I know,” he whispered back, turned, I pulled my arms away and he got on his knees in front of me, his hands framing my face.
I looked in his dark eyes.
“Do you know how much?” I kept whispering.
“How much, baby?” Lahn kept whispering too.
I bent my forehead to his and told him the truth. “More than my world.”
I watched his eyes smile. Then I felt his fingers press in my scalp. Then I felt the touch of his lips.
Then he gained his feet and he was gone.
*Translation: “Yes, I will.”
**Translation: “Give my queen a tour, now. The others will be here soon enough for you to boss around.”
***Translation: “Yes, my king, I live for your command.”
****Translation: “As you command.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Affairs of State
I was lounging on the mats and cushions with Sabine and Narinda watching the sun set over Korwahn. Ghost was lying on her belly on the mats by my feet, front legs stretched out before her, head up, blinking and sniffing the air.
From my vantage point, I could see the weakening rays of the sun striking deep pink, gold and vermillion through the sky, the last shimmers striking the gold on the statues of the Avenue of the Gods.
My eyes moved from the breathtaking view to slide across the roof where I saw my girls gathered around the table at the opposite corner. I saw the sun twinkling off the bangles at their wrists and their earrings.
Gaal was on her knees draping a bolt of fabric around a standing Quixa’s hips. Vibrant swathes of different colored cuts of fabric were strewn everywhere around the table, the bolts of fabric I bought my girls in the marketplace that day.
I had decided some weeks ago that a queen’s girls did not wander around in drab, threadbare sarongs and bandeaus but they wore jewelry, makeup and brightly colored, fashionable clothing. To their delight, they each had received four pieces of fabric since the first one I bought so many weeks ago and a new piece today as well as their jewelry and pots of makeup for their own. They also had more than one candlestick by their bed and each had mirrors in their rooms as well as small pieces of art and brightly colored quilts on their beds to break up the monotony of cream adobe in their quarters.
Movement caught my eye, I looked to the winding, black, wrought iron staircase that led to the roof and I saw Twinka was arriving.
Twinka disapproved of me outfitting my girls and made this very clear nonverbally, as she was doing now with a tight-lipped look in their direction.
I ignored it and so did my girls but I watched as she made her way to me.
She stopped two feet from our mats.
“Does my queen actually need a slave to do something?” she enquired.
We’d already had dinner and I looked down at the plate of carob drops, candied fruits, honeyed almonds, the jug of wine, the jug of mango juice and Sabine, Narinda and my silver chalices that were littering the mats, all of which my girls had brought to us before they’d settled with their fabric.
Then I looked up at Twinka and replied, “Me.”
Her lips got tighter and she inclined her head.
Then she turned and walked three feet away.
That was when I called, “Twinka?”
She sighed visibly, audibly and heavily and turned back then she lifted her brows.
“I bought three bolts of fabric for you today. Gaal will make you dresses,” I told her for she didn’t wear sarongs around her hips and bandeaus or halter tops to cover her breasts but a long, wrap of material she
