'If they come for you, it'll most likely be in the spring.' I didn't have a better answer.
My lady didn't take the news as kindly. We sat in the empty sugar closet. I closed the door when she began to yell.
'I order you to stay! I order you to marry him in my name. By the sacred nine, Dashri, you'll do what I say.'
Strangely, her words held no sway over me. Maybe it's wrong, but I don't think I have to do what she says just because I'm a mucker and she's an honored lady. I smiled to myself then, thinking that if I were in a tower now and a black-gauntleted Khasar told me to put my hand back down so he could slap it, I'd tell him to go slap himself.
'No, my lady,' I said as gently as I could. 'I've tried to do my duty by you, but I won't do this.'
Then she struck my face, just like her father and Lady Vachir, too. This time I didn't laugh. I just stood up slowly. Her eyes went wide, and I think she was afraid I'd hit her back. Not to say that I wasn't tempted.
'I'm sorry, my lady,' I said. 'My Lord the cat is a better companion for you than I am anyway.'
My lady didn't cry, though her chin set to quivering. 'Don't abandon me, Dashti. Everyone does, but you don't, you never do.'
Those words pinched my heart. Poor little lost lamb, poor thin and wind-tossed thing.
'Oh Saren.' I sat beside her and she put her head on my shoulder and lost every inch of the slapping, commanding gentry. 'I could take you with me, but you really are better off here than living like a mucker. Khan Tegus is a good man, the best of men, the very best. He'll take care of you.' I held her hands, I smiled to show her my confidence, and I felt as much like a good mucker mama as I ever hope to. 'You've done so well these past weeks. I think you can be strong without me. This is your time, Saren. This is your chance to be brave. Stand up. Declare who you are. Will you do it?'
She hesitated. 'I'll try. I'll think about it.'
I left then. I should've gone straight out, hidden my mottled face beneath my hood, and lost myself in the city, but I slowed to say good-bye to Mucker. Fool, fool, fool. The yak would've been fine without a farewell, but now I am not.
When I emerged from the stable, Lady Vachir was in the kitchen yard, and with her the three vulture maids and a dozen warriors from Beloved of Ris. In her right hand, she was clutching this book.
I turned and fled. The ground was thick with ice. I could hear them shouting. I didn't look, I just hobbled toward the gate. I was nearly there when my canes slipped and my feet flew out from under me. I was on the ground, and when I looked up, warriors from Beloved of Ris surrounded me.
I screamed, I couldn't help it. Hands were on my arms and legs, pulling me to a chopping block in the center of the yard, and they were none too gentle with my broken ankle. One stood by, ready with a sword. I screamed louder and thrashed and kicked with my good leg. Everyone working in the yard stared, but no one moved to interfere with Lady Vachir s business.
The girls emerged from the kitchens, shivering without cloaks but too curious about the commotion not to peek. When they recognized me in the hands of the warriors, they ran forward. All except Saren, who went back inside.
'What are you doing?' Cook hollered, running at them with a kitchen knife. 'Put Lady Saren down, you mangy villains!'
'This isn't Lady Saren.' Lady Vachir spoke loudly enough for any bystander to hear. 'This is Dashti the mucker maid. Isn't that right?'
If ever there was a good time to lie, that would've been it. But there we were, under the Eternal Blue Sky, and I just couldn't do it. Cook frowned at my silence and took a step back.
'By the ancient law of the Ancestors,' said Lady Vachir, 'it's my right to take the life of anyone who interferes with my lawful betrothal. This girl isn't Lady Saren, she isn't a lady at all. She's a commoner, a mucker from Titor's Garden, and confessed the truth herself in this book.'
Gal and Qacha were beside us now, tugging on the warriors' sleeves, pushing their way to me. The warriors didn't strike the girls, just shoved and wriggled them off their arms. My head lay on the chunk of wood where fowl get their necks chopped. It was stained muddy red and colder than ice, and with my last thought I felt some real sympathy for those poor chickens.
The warriors had dragged Gal out of the way. Now only Qacha stood between me and the sword.
'You can't just kill her!' said Qacha. 'Can they?'
'No, not until the khan's chiefs rule it so!' Gal shouted.
The warriors hesitated. Lady Vachir scowled. Apparently she knew that Gal was right.
'Then cut off one of her feet,' said the lady, 'so she can't run away again.'
At those words, my ankles flamed with pain.
The warriors rolled me around until my broken and wrapped ankle lay on the chopping block. Maybe they figured it was already damaged and so not such a tragedy. I tried to kick with my left leg until someone pinned it to the ground. I screamed and fought, but I couldn't move.
The sword rose above me. I looked up at it, silver against blue sky, and I was a fool enough to think, Isn't that pretty? Silver on blue.
I held my breath while I waited for the blade to drop. I didn't look down, I didn't want to see blood, see my leg end at my ankle. I just kept staring up and thinking, silver on blue, silver on blue.
I hadn't realized that the girls had been screaming until they stopped. The sword quivered and didn't fall.
The hands holding me let go, and I thumped onto the ground. I wiggled my toes. All ten were still there.
