Desert Rising (6 page)

He was terrified; he had to admit that to himself. It was like the time he'd been climbing in the mountains, jumping rocks, and stopped just inches from a sheer drop he hadn't realized was there. He'd stood there a moment with his heart pounding, realizing how close he'd come to going over the edge.

This time he was jumping off the cliff, Kadar realized. Intermingled with the fear was excitement. What Ashraf said made sense: the Forsaken were the key. If the Temple planned on going to war against the tribes, Kadar's knowledge of the desert would do much to help the Forsaken flee. Their numbers would bolster the desert men against the Temple's larger forces. It was time to do as Sulis had and act.

His uncles were waiting for him in the dining area when they arrived back at the house.

“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble,” Uncle Aaron told him, his face stern.

Kadar was startled a moment, wondering how he could know about his and Ashraf's plans. Ashraf had said not to tell them the plans for the Forsaken, just to say the families wanted an alliance. Farrah passed him, nudging him sharply, and he remembered the fight.

He opened his mouth to explain, but then closed it, trying to think of some way he could make it look like a good thing to have dumped the viceroy's son in the dirt. He couldn't, so he just shrugged and tried to look innocent.

Uncle Tarik chuckled and smacked Uncle Aaron in the shoulder. “He's as bad as the two of us were, eh?”

Uncle Aaron grinned, obviously amused by Kadar's loss of words. “If you had to pick a fight the first day you were in town, why'd you have to pick the viceroy's son?” he asked.

“I didn't know who he was!” Kadar told them. “It wasn't my choice.”

“No, I don't imagine it was; although even some of our own ­people might say you should have left Farrah to Severin,” Uncle Tarik reassured him. “We know better. Severin's been getting cocky.”

“And you clipped his feathers without hurting anything but his pride,” Uncle Aaron said. “I'm impressed.”

“I'll be more impressed if he has a contract for us to negotiate,” Uncle Aaron said, eyeing Kadar's empty hands.

“Ashraf said it was worthless for us to write a contract when you and his elders would just rewrite it to your terms anyway,” Kadar said. “The clan of Nasirof wishes to contract with the clan of Hasifel for transportation and sales of the Nasirof silks at the standard rate plus 5 percent for good faith. We shook on it, and the innkeeper witnessed the transaction.”

Uncle Tarik let out a tribal whoop, and when Aunt Raella and the younger cousins appeared, danced his wife around the table as she laughed.

“I assume we got the contract?” she said, throwing herself breathlessly into a chair. When they nodded, she said, “Excellent! I was just dusting off our official documents to get the wording. Once you give me the details, we can send it off with Ashraf.”

“If you weren't negotiating, what took you so long?” Uncle Aaron asked.

Kadar shrugged. “Ashraf assumed from the beginning we would have an alliance. We spent the time getting to know each other, as you said we should.”

“I see,” Uncle Aaron said, nodding.

“We do have a lot in common,” Kadar added.

“I'm glad,” Uncle Aaron said. “We'll need friendships and alliances to get us through what I am afraid will come.”

Uncle Tarik stopped spinning his boys around and interrupted them, coming over to clasp both on the shoulder. “I think this is cause for a celebration,” he declared.

“You think everything is cause for a celebration,” Uncle Aaron said with a laugh. “But I agree. Simon, Rashal,” he said, calling two of Kadar's cousins over. “Gather your brothers. Farrah, send for your sister; she can help prepare the festivities. Let the clans in town know we are holding a celebration tonight. Wine and ale are on us!”

Kadar knew word would spread quickly through the tight-­knit community. Soon, neighbors and friends would be arriving with today's dinner they'd cooked and put in a crock to share with all. There would be an amazing variety of food spread on the long table, with a pie someone just happened to have and a flaky pastry someone had been saving, and the clans would spend the night eating, drinking, and celebrating the alliance of the Hasifels and Nasirofs.

Farrah's younger sister Ava arrived before the other clans began showing up. She was fairer even than Farrah, her blue eyes alight as she helped Farrah and Raella set up tables for the potluck.

“I brought the bread from the baker, like Miz Raella asked; he gave me one of his leftover sweet rolls, and it was so good. Mother said to tell you to stop at the butcher next restday before you come, and I'm not to chatter too much.” Ava paused as she smoothed an embroidered cloth over the rough wood. “I don't think I chatter too much, do you? Did you see those drawing pencils set out on the kitchen counter? Did they come in with the last caravan?”

Aunt Raella laughed as she placed a dish on the table. “Yes, Aaron found them and a sheaf of drawing paper up north and brought them for the sales hall.”

“They probably cost a lot, being from the North and all,” Ava said, reaching for some dishes. “They'd be really easy to use, though. Way easier than burning charcoal. Is Mister Tarik going to sell them to the art school?”

“I don't think Tarik has any idea where to sell them.” Aunt Raella said, grinning. “You might be able to bargain with Tarik for them, just to get them off his hands. Don't you think, Kadar?”

Aunt Raella tried to bring Kadar into the conversation, but he just shrugged.

Kadar couldn't quite get in the mood for the celebration. He escaped the bustle of the family trying to prepare the house for so many ­people coming and went to the cool dimness of the stables.

He was beginning to curry one of Uncle Aaron's horses when he heard someone's soft footsteps behind him.

He whipped around, startling the mare.

“Sorry,” Farrah said. “I didn't mean to creep up on you.”

“It's okay,” he said, calming the mare with a hand on her neck. “Just a little uneasy after today. I'm worried about Severin—­that he mentioned my sister.”

“Because of the incident in the marketplace?” she asked.

“Yes, a little. I don't like that he treated you that way, then asked if Sulis had friends to protect her. I'd like to find a way of getting to Sulis, to let her know she might be in danger from him. The Temple can't know we're in touch.”

“You really care about her, don't you?” Farrah asked, cocking her head to one side.

He nodded. “We've always been together. When I had something to say, she was always there to listen. When there was work, she was the extra set of hands. Being separated is irritating, as though I'm missing something I never knew I needed.”

“I always wanted to be a twin,” Farrah said wistfully. “Ava is six years younger than I am, so I'm more like a second mother to her than a sister. And she's the oldest. I've also got two little brothers and a toddler sister, born just after Father was killed.”

“Sulis would like you,” Kadar said.

“I'd like to get to know her,” Farrah said with a smile. “You know, if you need to get a message to her, you can dress like a Forsaken and go shopping with me. Wear gloves and put a hood over your head as though you have the decaying disease. ­People never look very closely at us.”

Kadar smiled, thinking about it. “Yes, that might work,” he said excitedly. “I could get her a message, figure out a place to meet. You're brilliant, Farrah.”

She blushed at the praise. “Just so long as you don't get caught. It's forbidden, dressing like a Forsaken if you're not one.”

He moved a little closer to her, drawn in by the blush on her cheeks and wondering if she felt the same attraction to him. She stepped away quickly and turned to leave.

“Oh!” she said, turning back. Her cheeks were still pink, and she seemed a bit flustered. “Your aunt sent me out to fetch you. She wants you to help carry kegs from the basement for your uncles. She's afraid they'll throw their backs out competing to see how much they can carry.”

Kadar grinned and followed her inside with a lighter heart. Tonight was a celebration; tomorrow his work would really begin.

He snagged a dance with Ava, who giggled as he spun her around the courtyard, showing her the quick steps of the set.

“Are you and Farrah a ­couple?” she asked impudently, slightly out of breath as they stepped to the side to let others pass.

Kadar blushed. “Um . . .” he stuttered, not knowing how to answer. “We've really just met.”

“Well, I think she likes you. You're all she talked about when she came home yesterday. Do you like her?”

Kadar was saved from answering by Simon's swooping in to spin Ava back out into the crowd of dancers. He glanced over to where Farrah was serving and found her watching him. He was rewarded with a brilliant smile, and when he made his way to bed hours later, he fell asleep with a smile on his own face.

F
ARRAH FOUND
A
robe for him a ­couple of weeks after their talk. She'd had to look hard for a robe suitable for his taller frame. It was patchy enough that he'd blend into almost any crowd of beggars, especially if he hunched a bit to disguise his height.

He hid the cloak in his bags. He begged his aunt and uncle to send him on errands over the next few weeks, supposedly to help him get used to the city, with its many circling streets and tiny alleys. He divided his time between exploring the different regions of the city and learning to sell in the hall and tally taxes. He didn't think his aunt and uncle would like his violating city laws by dressing as a Forsaken, so he didn't mention contacting his sister. By walking the streets and visiting the Temple, he learned that there were two main roads—­one east-­to-­west and the other north-­to-­south. The Hasifel merchant hall sat on the north-­to-­south road, making it easy for pilgrims to shop on their way back from tithing at the Temple.

Though the main routes were cobblestoned, so wagons or stock would not get bogged down in mud, serious traders avoided them. Instead, they wound their way through the city on a series of tiny side roads because the main roads led directly to the Temple, and the congestion of the pilgrims who came to tithe made it slow going for anything larger than a person on foot.

Wider, semicircular brick roads hugged the walls of the Temple. Kadar had been confused about why the merchants would not use them until he ventured down one lane. A surly guard quickly directed him back to the main route, but not before he'd seen the giant stone houses and beautiful gardens flanking the road. Later, Kadar asked a vendor about those houses. The man gave him an earful about the rich, first-­circle families who were too proud to shop for themselves and sent servants instead. Kadar returned later to explore the next two concentric brick roads. They were slightly less ostentatious and contained the houses of the second-­circle and third-­circle families.

The rest of the city looked more thrown together, with properties divided up unevenly and roads cutting throughout. The merchant district was located on the north end of town, and the Forsaken and beggars' district was on the southern side, where land that couldn't be farmed indicated the beginnings of the desert. The west end held the livestock fairs, the bigger stables where his family's caravan kept their mules and wagons while in town, and Kadar's real find—­the horse-­ and sword-­training grounds for the Temple initiates. Robed Temple acolytes streamed in and out of the grounds all day. It seemed every person in the Temple took lessons here at one point or another—­which meant it was the path on which to find Sulis.

It seemed like an easy solution. But he soon realized that going out dressed as a Forsaken the past few weeks had given him a great map of the city but not much else. Sulis could be out at any time of the day. And for most of the day, he was stuck inside the merchant hall listening to his uncle's lectures on tending a permanent stall.

He had been venting his frustrations one evening by grooming the entire stable of horses at the house when Farrah came up behind him.

“Have you contacted her yet?” she asked softly, picking up a currycomb and settling beside him.

He snorted and growled wordlessly, and she laughed.

“A little frustrated, then?”

“I know where to find her. I've got the disguise. I just can't sit there the entire day until she happens to go by. And I don't know how to find out when and if she'll be there. It would take an enormous amount of luck, and I don't have that much money to give to Parasu.”

Farrah frowned, thinking, and Kadar stopped brushing a moment to admire the dimples that showed even when she frowned. Her face brightened.

“My friend's wife works in the kitchens of Ivanha.” At his frown of confusion, she sighed, and continued, “The newly paired women are living in Ivanha's house this season. They've been talking about Sulis since she came. They might have some idea of when she goes where. Raella wanted me to go to the Temple midweek to deliver the saffron its kitchens ordered. I could convince her to let me go tomorrow instead.”

“You're brilliant!” Kadar said, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

A hug she leaned into, only breaking away when they heard footsteps in the courtyard.

“Farrah!” Ava, Farrah's sister burst into the stables, her face flushed. “Miz Raella gave me an errand to run, and she's paying me and she said you could come and, oh, hi Kadar,” She stopped and eyed the two of them dubiously. “Were you two kissing?”

“Of course not,” Farrah said, her voice admonishing. “Ava, you need to slow down. You'll hurt someone stampeding about like a mule.”

“Sorry,” Ava said, wrinkling her nose at Kadar.