Sword Maker-Sword Dancer 3 (44 page)

Alric straightened hastily and moved aside as Lena thrust immense belly between

man and doorjamb. "Tiger," she said, "someone is here to see you."

"See me?"

She nodded. "He asked for you."

I glanced thoughtfully at Del a moment, then gathered aching muscles and harness

and made myself get up. The huva disorientation was gone, but not the aftermath

of the cramping. I hurt all over.

"Shall I send him through?" Lena asked.

"No, I'll go outside. It's time I got some sun." With a glance at the blatant sky, uncluttered by blanket or skin.

Outside, the day was as bright. So was the man waiting for me, swathed in blinding silks. Baubles flashed on his fingers.

"Lord Sandtiger," he said, and grinned at me happily.

Dumbfounded, I stared. And then reached out to slap a plump shoulder. "Sabo.

Sabo! What are you doing here?"

The eunuch's grin was undiminished. "I've been sent to fetch you."

My answering grin died. "Fetch me? Fetch me? I don't know, Sabo--the last time

you were sent to fetch me it was to play me right into Hashi's palsied hands...

and nearly under the gelding knife!"

Some of his gaiety faded. "That is over," he told me. "My lord Hashi, may the sun shine on his head, died two months ago. You need have no fear of his retribution now."

I hoped not. Sabo's master, tanzeer of Sasqaat, had proved a very inhospitable

host. Of course, he claimed retribution because his intended bride's virginity

was missing, so I suppose he had a right... except no one else had ever accused

Elamain of being a virgin--ever--so the so-called retribution had been little more than an old man's jealous spite. But it nonetheless nearly got me gelded.

Only Sabo's help had freed Del and me.

The round-faced eunuch still smiled. "I have a new master, now."

"Oh? Who?"

"Hashi's son. Esnat."

"Esnat?"

"Esnat. Lord Esnat."

I nodded deferentially. "And is Lord Esnat anything like his father?"

"Lord Esnat is a fool."

"So was Hashi--excuse me: Lord Hashi. Was a fool."

"My lord Hashi, may the sun shine on his head, was an old, bitter man. Lord Esnat is a fool."

"Then why are you serving him? You've never been a fool."

Sabo's tone was bland. "Because the lady asked me to."

Deep in my belly, something twitched. "The lady," I echoed ominously. "You don't

mean--"

"--Elamain," he finished. "May the sun shine on her head."

"And other parts of her anatomy." I chewed at my bottom lip. "Then am I right in

assuming it's Elamain who's sent for me?"

"No. Lord Esnat sent for you."

"Why?"

"Elamain asked him to."

I decided to say it straight out. "I'm still with Del, Sabo."

The eunuch smiled. "Then you have retained your good sense... and your taste."

"But--don't you see? I can't go to Elamain."

"Elamain won't care."

"About Del? She certainly will. I'm not that stupid, Sabo."

"The lady wants to see you."

"She'll want to see all of me."

Sabo's pale brown eyes were guileless. "That didn't stop you before."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well...maybe not--"

"Come tell her yourself," he suggested. And then his face brightened. "Ah, the

Northern bascha... may the sun shine on your head!"

Del, in the doorway, glanced skyward. "I think it already is."

I stared at her. Thought back on the topic Sabo and I had discussed; on my invitation from Elamain. Found I had nothing to say.

Del's smile was slow. "Don't keep the--lady--waiting."

I wet my lips. "I don't suppose you'd want to come."

Her smile stretched wider. "You sound almost hopeful, Tiger."

Yes, well... maybe so. But I wouldn't tell Del that.

I shrugged. "Just a thought," I mentioned. "I thought maybe you'd want to gossip. Two women, after all."

Gravely, Del shook her head. "I'd sooner step into a circle... at least there I

know the rules."

I started to answer, then remembered something. "Wait. You went to find out what

you could about Ajani."

Del was expressionless. "So I did."

"And did you?"

She shrugged. "It can wait."

"Maybe it can, but will it?" I shook my head. "I know you, bascha... you'll tell

me nothing, then go off all by yourself."

She smiled. "Go off to Elamain."

"Del--"

"Go," she said plainly.

Irresolute, I offered a promise: "I'll come straight back."

Her tone was perfectly bland. "And perhaps I shall be here."

Hoolies, she can be difficult.

I looked at Sabo. Saw the gleam of amusement in his eyes. Knew I couldn't delay

any longer without giving myself away.

You're a grown man, I told myself. And Elamain's only a woman.

Hoolies, what a fool.

Esnat wasn't alone.

Ten

Elamain was alone. "Hello, Tiger," she purred.

Oh, hoolies. Del.

And then wondered what I was thinking. I mean, I was a grown man. One who makes

his own decisions, needing no woman to do it for him. Needing no guidance, no suggestions, no commands. I could make my own way in the world, with or without

a woman, and therefore didn't even need to think of Del right at this very moment.

Elamain shed her burnous. "Remember how it was?"

Hoolies, hoolies, hoolies... where's Del when I need her?

"Which time?" I asked. "In your wagon? Or in Hashi's cell?"

Elamain pouted. Elamain pouting is enough to move all the sand out of the Punja.

Except I didn't want to.

Elamain had set up housekeeping in one of the buildings that still had a roof;

Esnat was, after all, a tanzeer, and Elamain the widow of one. The room she inhabited had been much improved by rugs and silks and gauzes, draped and piled

here and there. She reclined on fat cushions tumbled invitingly on thick rugs.

Her golden eyes were sorrowful. "Do you blame me for that?"

Golden eyes; black-silk hair; smooth, dusky skin. The woman was made for bedding.

The woman enjoyed her bedding.

With studious care, I kept my eyes above the artful droop in the silk of her underrobe, falling away from her breasts. "You did have something to do with it.

Wasn't it you who offered Del as a wedding present to Hashi, so he'd give me to

you?"

Lids lowered minutely. Black lashes veiled her eyes. "I didn't want to lose you."

"Maybe not. But that's a pretty nasty way of trying to keep me, wouldn't you say? It nearly got me castrated."

She sat upright stiffly. "That wasn't my fault! How was I to know Hashi would be

so annoyed?"

Annoyed. Interesting word: annoyed. I'd have put it more strongly, considering

the penalty Hashi demanded in retribution for me sleeping with a woman who slept

with whomever she liked--and was widely known for it. Hashi himself had known.

I lifted eyebrows. "Are you sleeping with Esnat?"

"Of course I am." Elamain's tone was matter-of-fact. "Hashi's dead... I had to

retain my position somehow."

"Sons don't often marry their father's wives."

"I don't have to marry him, Tiger. I only have to sleep with him. Esnat is--"

She paused.

"A fool?" I supplied.

She made a gesture of casual acknowledgment with one graceful hand. Then stretched the hand toward me. "I was hoping you were in Iskandar. Come to me, Tiger. Let us rekindle what we once shared."

So much for Sabo's assurances. "I can't, Elamain."

Silk slid lower. "Why not? Have I gotten old and fat?"

She knew better. Elamain was no fatter than she'd been a year and a half before,

when I'd helped rescue her caravan from borjuni. And though she was that much older, it didn't show anywhere. She was a lovely, alluring woman.

And I'm not made of stone.

I cleared my throat hastily. "Sabo said Esnat sent for me."

Elamain pouted again. "Because I told him to."

"Sabo said that, too. So, now I'm here. Was it business you wanted, Elamain...

or something else entirely?"

Elamain stopped pouting. Her eyes lost their seductive cast and took on another

expression. Elamain was thinking.

A woman like Elamain--thinking--can often be dangerous.

"There is someone else," she said.

"Maybe," I agreed warily. "Maybe it's just that I don't feel like--"

Elamain didn't let me finish. "No man has ever not felt like it," she snapped.

"Not with me."

The situation took on an entirely new complexion. Now I was curious; women are

often baffling creatures. "Are you serious?" I asked. "No one? Ever? No matter

the circumstances?"

"Of course I'm serious." Elamain wasn't amused. "No man--not a single man--has

ever said no to me."

"And that means something to you."

Color bloomed in her cheeks. Lovely, dusky cheeks. "How would you feel if you ever lost a sword-dance?"

"We're not talking about a sword-dance, Elamain... we're talking about you sleeping with men. One has nothing to do with the other."

"One is very like the other," she retorted, "and not in the obviously vulgar sense, either."

"Elamain--"

She rose. Straightened flowing silks. Crossed the carpeted floor to me.

"There's

someone else," she declared. "A man like you would never say no otherwise."

It intrigued me. "A man like me? What is a man like me like?"

"A man like you is all man; why should he say no?"

Elamain had a point, although it didn't please me. "Are we all so predictable?"

"Most of you," she agreed. "Not a single man I've ever met--except Sabo, and other eunuchs--has been blind to the bedding, and what it might be like. You certainly weren't."

No.

"And no man," she went on, "whom I have invited into my bed has ever refused the

chance. Even men with sworn women, or men with wives at home."

No, I imagine not. She's that kind of woman.

Elamain frowned. "Except you."

"I'm not blind," I told her. "I'm not even deaf. And I'm certainly not a eunuch."

"But you won't go to bed with me."

I sighed. "Elamain--"

"Because there is someone else."

I said it clearly: "Yes."

A faint crease marred her brow. Then, abruptly, it cleared. "When you rescued my

caravan, there was a woman with you... a Northerner. You don't mean her, do you?

That woman who thinks she's a man?"

I cleared my throat. "First of all, Del doesn't think she's a man. She doesn't

want to be a man; why should she? She's more than adequate as a woman ..." I paused. "More than adequate."

Elamain was shocked. "She's nearly as tall as you! Much taller than me!"

"I like tall women." I thought about where I was, and whom Elamain could call on: a tanzeer with authority. "But I like shorter women, too."

"She's white-haired. She looks old."

"She's not white-haired, she's blonde. It bleaches out, down here. And she certainly isn't old; she's several years younger than you."

Uh-oh. Shouldn't have said that.

Elamain glared. "I've seen her, Tiger. She looks like a man with breasts."

Unfortunately, I laughed.

Hands went to hips. "She does. She's huge. And she carries a sword... do you know what that means?"

It took effort not to laugh more. "No, Elamain. Why don't you tell me?"

"It means she hates men. It means she wants to kill them. She probably wants to

kill you."

"Sometimes," I agreed. "She nearly did, once."

Golden eyes narrowed. "You are teasing me."

I grinned. "A little. And you deserve it. Haven't you learned by now not all men

appreciate hearing a woman yowl?"

Elamain lifted an eyebrow. "I'd rather hear the Sandtiger growl."

I smiled. "Not this time."

"You did before."

"That was before."

The crease in her brow came back. "Is she really that good?"

Patiently, I explained, "There's more to it than that."

"Oh?"

"But you wouldn't understand."

Elamain considered it lengthily. And then smiled--as only Elamain can smile--shook back her silky, sooty curtain of unbound hair, took a single smooth

step forward to merge her body with mine. And Elamain knows how to merge.

"Then," she said huskily, "I will have to apply myself."

Hoolies, she's making it hard.

I was four steps away from the doorway when a man came out of an alley and stepped into my path. A slender, youngish man with dust-colored hair straying out from beneath a wilted turban. He wore plain white gauze, now smudged and soiled. There were spots on his chin, which tried to bury itself in his neck.

His eyes were a medium brown. His manner hesitant.

"Sandtiger?" he asked. When I nodded, he looked relieved. "I'm Esnat," he said.

Esnat. Esnat. Guilt made me hot. Or maybe it was the sunburn.

"Esnat," I answered; a stupid sort of answer.

He didn't seem to mind. "Esnat," he agreed. "I'm tanzeer of Sasqaat."

Elamain's sleeping with this?

Well, Elamain would.

I cleared my throat. "So Sabo said."

"Yes. I told him to."

Esnat was not the sort of man I expected Hashi to sire. He was diffident, polite, altogether too unassuming for a man in his position. Which meant, I thought resignedly, Elamain had free rein. He only thought he ruled.

I thought about Elamain. "So," I said, "can I help you?"

Esnat glanced pointedly past me to the doorway, which made me feel even hotter.

Then gestured for me to follow.

I did not, at first, intend to. After all, I'd just come from Elamain, and who

knows what Esnat might do. He was Hashi's son; appearances don't always count.

But his manner remained much the same: hesitant, polite, almost too unassuming.