Times I've seen a man who'd decided to die, and a healing song changed his mind and let his body fight the disease off. I--my maid, she's never performed anything so grand. Though her mother has.'
I could hear him move around, as if getting more comfortable, and lean his head closer to the hole.
'Keep talking, my lady. Your voice makes me want to stay and stay.'
I lay down, resting my head on my hands, facing his voice. And I spoke. I wished I could whisper true things, about my mama, about the day my brothers left, about how a rainy spring makes the steppes grass so green you wish you were a yak so you could eat it. But I was being my lady, so I hid inside stories. I told the legend of how the Ancestors formed commoners from mud so there would be people in the world to serve their gentry children. He told me another that I'd never heard before, how Goda, goddess of sleep, took the form of a raven and first brought night to the world so all could rest. I would write down the exact tale here if I could recall it, but already some of his words slip away. All I remember for sure about that part of the conversation is I felt like I was riding a fast mare and I was sleeping in a warm blanket, both at the same time.
From outside, we heard a dog howl.
'That's a guard dog.' His voice got a spice of anger in it. 'Why do they have to come back so soon! Why don't they give us another hour of peace?'
I would've liked another hour myself.
'Listen,' he said, 'I am going to break you out. I'll come tomorrow night. I have enough warriors with me to kill the guards --'
'No, my lord, you can't just kill the guards!'
'Then we'll drug them somehow, and when they're sluggish and sleeping, we'll break down the --'
'No! Listen. My honored father is terribly mean, he'll know it was you, he'll come after you. It'll be war between Titor's Garden and Song for Evela, sure enough. And if Lord Khasar hears you've taken us... he's a beast, I've heard. You don't want a war with him. We can wait for my... my father to soften. He's bound to let us out sometime, and meanwhile we're safe here.' I believe that. Having now spent weeks in the darkness, I don't think her father will truly leave us here for seven years. No father could do that.
'But no, I...'
Her khan paused. He knew I was right. We couldn't start a war over a tower, not when my lady and I were alive and the cellar more full of food than of rats. The Ancestors bless him for hoping otherwise.
'It's all right, my lord. We'll be fine enough. We will.'
'But my lady --'
'Just tell me, what's the sky look like tonight?'
Her khan sighed as if he were going to argue more, but then went quiet, and I imagined him looking up, squinting, waiting for the right words to fall into his head.
'The air is so clear, it shivers,' he said. 'All the stars are out, every one, even the babies. It's so bright with stars, the blacks of the sky look a dark, dark blue.'
I could see it just like he said it.
'My lady.' His voice was soft, as though there were no wall, as though he were right beside me. 'I should return home. There's been unrest lately, Lord Khasar making threats and the like. I'll come again as soon as I can, and we'll see then if it's time to knock down this wall.'
I said, 'That's fine,' though I didn't want him to leave. But I was speaking for my lady, and I spoke as I thought gentry would. 'Your people should come first.'
'I have a farewell gift,' he said, a touch more brightness in his voice. 'My chief of animals came on this journey, and she brought some companion animals along with the horses and yaks. When you mentioned your trouble with rats...'
I heard him call lightly to someone, then her khan's bare hand came through the hole, raising up something furry that mewed.
It was a yearling cat, long and lean, pale gray with green eyes. I put my face in its neck. It smelled of wind in the grass, of riverbed clay, of the world. I wanted to give him something in return, so I unhooked the neck clasp of my deel and shivered out of my shirt. It's just an undershirt, but it's what I wear closest to me and seemed the kind of a gift Lady Saren should offer her betrothed. Things worn closest to the skin, to the heart, carry the scent of a person, and of course, scent is the breath of the soul.
I leaned down, giving him the shirt. He took it, and took my hand, too. His hands were warm today, rough on the palms like well-used leather. And so much larger, my own hand nearly disappeared into his. He didn't say another word, but I felt different, as though he had sung to me the song for heartache, the one that goes, soft and slow, 'Tilly tilly, nar a black bird, nilly nilly, there a blue bird.'
Day 35
It's been two days since her khan left. We'll have the rest of his antelope meat tonight. I hope he has a safe journey.
I named the cat My Lord.
Day 39
I'm in love! My heart's so light it floats and carries me so my feet don't walk. I sing all day and I don't mind the washing, and that's how I know I'm in love. Completely smitten with My Lord the cat.
He's like a naked beech tree, sleek and gray. He's prettier than a morning sky and knows it, too. I shouldn't encourage him but I can't help it, and tell him all day long, 'You're the prettiest cat in the world, My Lord, you're smarter than a dog and faster than a bird.' I give him all the best bits from my dinner. Whenever I'm not singing to my lady's hidden ailment, I'm slathering the cat with songs.
My Lord has already killed three rats and I haven't heard so much as a good morning from the rest. And at
