Lord of the White Hell book Two

Chapter Nineteen

Kiram arrived back at his family house just after the fourth morning bell rang out. He had planned to get home earlier but having Javier to himself in a bed had proved too much of a temptation.

The smell of earth and sweat still clung to his body and the taste of Javier's semen lingered in his mouth. Stray leaves clung to the curls of his hair and his rumpled clothes made it look like he'd spent the night under a bush.

In the courtyard his mother's secretary, Fiez, gave him a disapproving glance before hurrying to the candy shop to no doubt inform Kiram's mother that he had at last dragged himself home.

Kiram hurried to the only refuge he could claim. Unfortunately, Majdi already occupied the men's bath. Steaming vapor rose from the water and the smell of sweet soap filled the air. From where he stretched out in the tub, Majdi took in Kiram's dirty, rumpled appearance and then shook his head.

"Do you know if Mum's very mad at me?" Kiram asked.

"Very mad?" Majdi raised his brows. "She's furious."

"How furious?"

"Too furious for you to be hiding with me," Majdi replied. "This is your trouble, Kiram. You'd best go out and face it."

"But-"

"Allyou had to do wasgp to a dinner." Majdi sounded exasperated. "You could have avoided this but you chose not to. Now go and face the consequences like an adult."

"But I didn't mean to miss the dinner."

"Don't tell me your excuses," Majdi snapped. "And. don't think you can go to father or Dauhd either. Mum had it out with all of us last night. You're on your own. I suggest you take responsibility like the grown man you play at being."

Kiram wanted to argue, to plead with Majdi to help him, but he realized that Majdi was right. How could he expect to embark on a life amidst Cadeleonian courtiers, bullies and princes when he couldn't even muster the courage to face his own mother? He supposed that if their situations had been reversed Javier would have gone straight to his mother, just as he had marched directly to his penance the morning after he knocked Genimo out.

Kiram wiped his face clean and rinsed his hands, then left Majdi to his bath.

He met his mother at the back door of the candy shop.

"So, you've decided to come home?" She watched him like he was a fly she planned to swat. Behind her, Kiram noticed Dauhd and Siamak both peeking out of the doorway.

"I-" Kiram began.

"Your Cadeleonian duke didn't take you home to show off to his people?" The rage in her voice belied her cool expression.

"No." Kiram rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the thought. "Of course not-"

"Don'tyou dare take that tone with me, Kiram!" His mother's voice rang shrill and strange. Her tightly controlled expression broke into rage and she slapped him across the face. "Don't you dare even open your mouth!"

Kiram could only stare at his mother. He'd been struck far harder in the last year and yet that single blow shocked him. Never in his life had he seen his mother like this, not even when she and Siamak had fought.

"You humiliated Mother Kir-Naham and her son last night! And you made a liar of me and your father, and why? So you could throw yourself after some well-hung, rich animal! I'd rather have found out that you were letting a dog fuck you!"

Fury flooded Kiram, immolating his earlier thoughts of simply bowing his head and apologizing. Instead he met his mother's glare with his own.

"Javier is not-"

His mother swung for him, but this time Kiram caught her hand and shoved her back. Both Dauhd and Siamak rushed from the candy shop to their mother.

"Javier is not an animal!" Kiram snarled. "He's been gracious and generous and he has never said one bad word against any of you!"

"He's not safe!" Siamak shouted at him. "If you'd just be reasonable, Kiram you'd see that. He's a Cadeleonian-"

"I know he's a fucking Cadeleonian!" Kiram's heart pounded hard now, like he was about to get in a real fight. "You can all stop telling me. I know! I don't care, because he's a better human being than Hashiem, his mother or any of you. He doesn't care that you're Haldiim, you know that? He treats you all with respect."

"I know, Kiram." Dauhd looked frightened. "Javier's a good man. He is. But if you get involved with him, you could end up being exiled or worse. We just want to keep you safe."

"No, you don't," Kiram bellowed. "You want to use me for an alliance with Mother Kir-Naham. Well, I'm not going to go live with that bitter old woman or marry her dull son."

"Don't you speak of Mother Kir-Naham in that fashion." Kiram's mother glowered at him.

"I'll speak how I like!"

"Not while you're in my house you won't!" His mother's voice rang through the courtyard. Kiram noticed a fruit seller standing near the fountain gaping at them.

"Well, then," Kiram ground the words out in a low growl, "I won't be staying in your house."

His mother and sisters all looked stunned at that and Kiram turned and strode towards the gates.

"Don't think you can come back if you walk out now, Kiram! Don't you dare!" His mother shouted after him as he stepped past the gates. Still, he thought he heard Siamak assuring his mother and Dauhd that he'd be back before nightfall.

But he wouldn't, he promised himself. He was not going to go back home, not ever.

He fumed and paced the streets, attempting to walk off some of his anger while making his way to Rafie's house. As he wandered Kiram overheard constant chatter between street vendors, their patrons, guards and passerby. All of them discussed last night's illuminated sky. Only the rarest individual seemed to have slept the night through. Most were bleary-eyed but still excited and filled with a delighted euphoria. People spoke unabashedly of miracles occurring all through the city, of a new age of enlightenment. Some even confessed their own mystical premonitions of the moment. Men and women who Kiram knew had never been religious were suddenly speaking rapturously of sacred groves and the holiness of the Haldiim people.

Kiram felt alien in the midst of so much jubilation. He couldn't keep from wondering how many of these people would be delighted if they knew that a Cadeleonian nobleman had ignited the sky with those Bahiim blessings? What would they have thought if they knew that it had been done secretly and against the wishes of the majority of the Bahiim community?

The roiling anger in the pit of Kiram's belly made him want to shout the truth but he stifled his desire. It was a petty, childish urge, one that would do more harm than good if he acted upon it.

So Kiram kept quiet when people smiled at him in that dazed, joyous manner that assured him that they'd spent the morning imagining a new magical life instead of fighting with their mothers and being banished from their homes.

When Kiram arrived at Rafie's house, he found it empty and the door locked. A neighbor informed him that neither Alizadeh nor Rafie had come home last night.

"They left so suddenly that I thought there might have been some trouble with the Cadeleonian law again." The gray-haired neighbor lowered her voice. "You know your uncle was a wanted man once."

"I've heard." Kiram wondered if everyone of that age knew about Rafie's exile. He guessed that it must have been a huge scandal at the time, especially since Rafie would have invariably been promised to someone else…just like Kiram had been.

Kiram felt a prickling dread at the thought.

How long would it be before word spread about his broken engagement and his departure from his mother's house? His mother would hate that. Nevertheless gossip wouldn't really do any harm so long as Javier wasn't brought into it.

But how many people had seen them together last night? Or on earlier afternoons, in alleys and back doorways? How many would put it together with his broken engagement?

Kiram shuddered but Rafie's neighbor didn't seem to notice. She gazed up at the blue sky.

"As soon as those beautiful lights appeared I knew your uncle and Alizadeh had gone to the Circle of Red. Oaks. It must have been wonderful being right there." She leaned against the simple mosaic wall that surrounded her house and she tilted her face into the sunlight. "I just know things are going to be different. It's going to be better."

Kiram shared none of her optimism, but he nodded anyway. He wondered what excuse Javier had offered the Grunitos for his absence last night and then he wondered when, if ever, Alizadeh and Rafie would come home.

While Kiram waited, crouched on Rafie's doorstep, Rafie's neighbor and a passing candlemaker chatted about the amazing lights in the grove. The candlemaker sold Rafie's neighbor a round of raw beeswax before they both departed to the public market.

The sun passed its zenith and Kiram paced the grounds of Rafie's house and then the block. At last boredom and hunger got the better of him and he followed the smell of frying lamb and cinnamon cakes past the Ammej Bridge to a busy street vendor.

Only after purchasing and devouring his meal did Kiram pause to consider just how few coins remained in his pocket. If he was careful he might be able to make them last until next week. If Rafie and Alizadeh would take him in then.

Kiram stopped himself mid-thought, suddenly struck by the realization of what he would be asking of Rafie: not just that his uncle should take him in and support him, but that in doing so Rafie should publicly disregard his own sister's wishes.

Kiram didn't know how much of Rafie's money came from his mother but he did know that no one in the district would give Rafie so much as a smile if Mother Kir-Zaki forbade it. And that wasn't even considering Mother Kir-Naham. The last thing Rafie would need was a powerful pharmacist and all of her friends refusing to supply him or his patients with medicine.

Kiram scowled at the gristle clinging to his blackened skewer as doubt crept over him. Still, even as he began to regret storming out of his mother's house, he remembered that she had called Javier an animal and his resolve hardened. He couldn't return and apologize; it would be the lowest cowardice. At the same time he didn't know if he could thrust himself upon his uncle in good conscience.

He followed the river road for a while, walking aimlessly. Bookstores, tearooms and tailor shops gave way to smoke rooms, cramped wine houses and gambling parlors. He wondered how much renting a room would cost him and then how much he could win playing cards or throwing dice in one of the gambling parlors. At the Sagrada Academy he'd won most games he played and he'd been very good at counting the Hellions' cards. But the weathered, sinister faces of the men he saw entering and departing the gambling parlors gave him pause. A number of them seemed to be considering murdering him just for meeting their hard stares; he didn't want to find out what they'd do after he took their money from them.

No, he'd think of something else. In the meantime he wanted to get back to familiar ground. Already the sinking sun turned the sky orange and shadows invaded the surrounding alcoves and alleys. The last thing he needed was to go stumbling around this part of town in the dark and get himself mugged.

He strode quickly through the lanes as shadows lengthened and street vendors closed up their stalls. Someone called his name in a low, drunken slur. Kiram knew the voice and knew that he shouldn't turn around but he couldn't stop himself.

Musni and another rough-looking man leaned against the wall of a wine house. Long shafts of red sunlight colored Musni's hair and glinted off his rings and off the hilt of his fighting knife.

"Lostyour way already, Kiram?" Musni stepped forward. His companion watched Kiram but not with any real interest.

"I'm not lost. I just went for a walk." He wondered how it could be that he'd once thought he loved Musni. Now he felt only disgust at the sight of him. And Musni, who'd once professed to adore him, seemed set upon lowering Kiram's opinion of him with their every encounter.

"Didn't your mommy warn you that this was a bad part of town?" Musni sneered.

"Fuck off," Kiram snapped. "You're the one who got married because you didn't have the balls to stand up to your mother. In fact, aren't you late getting home for your evening suckle?"

The man behind Musni laughed and Musni's taunting expression turned to rage.

"You spoiled shit, I ought to kill you." Musni drew his knife and lunged for Kiram.

Kiram jerked aside, feeling Musni's blade slice across his vest. Suddenly Kiram's heart hammered in his throat. This couldn't be happening. He leaped back as Musni thrust again. Behind them Musni's companion whooped with excitement but someone else who Kiram had not seen in the shadows hissed, "Idiot! Are you trying to bring down the Civic Guards?"

Kiram didn't dare to glance back at them. He watched Musni slowly circle him. The blade of Musni's knife looked wet and Kiram was aware of something warm trickling down his stomach. He felt a sting more than any pain. He'd fought through injury worse than this in the tournament. He'd fought for hours. But that hadn't been against a drunk and angry ex-lover. He had to get that knife out of Musni's hand before he actually got hurt.

Musni charged. This time Kiram stepped into him and was grimly satisfied to see the shock in Musni's expression.

Kiram pounced, catching Musni's wrists. Musni fought to break free, slashing his knife awkwardly between their bodies and jerking at Kiram's grip.

Kiram held him. His hands felt slick with sweat and his heart pounded wildly. The flat of Musni's blade slapped across his forearm and Kiram dug his fingers into Musni's tendons, drawing blood as he loosened Musni's grip on the knife hilt.

"Fucker," Musni growled as he tried to wrench his hands free. He was strong and Kiram's muscles trembled from restraining him.

They grappled so close they could have kissed. Instead, Kiram kicked hard against Musni's knee and heard a terrible ripping sound. Musni howled and fell and Kiram let him go.

As Musni sprawled on the ground Kiram crushed his boot heel into Musni's wrist and kicked the knife away. Then Kiram bounded back from Musni's reach. But he needn't have. Musni lay where he'd fallen, tears coursing down his face as he curled into a ball clutching his knee.

Exhilaration and relief flooded Kiram's body in a shaking rush. He was alive. He'd won. For the first time he dared to look at the wound in his side. He found no more than a thin scratch beneath the gash in his vest. He was very lucky that Musni had slashed at him instead of stabbing.

A shadow fell across Kiram. He looked up in time to see Musni's glaring companion. The man's fist smashed into the side of his head, sending him staggering. Kiram hardly took in anything but a snarling mass of hard muscle and punishing fists as the big man pounded his skull.

Reflexively, Kiram blocked a second blow to his face and struck back. The man took two of Kiram's fast jabs, grunting at the impact. Then he hurled Kiram back against the stone wall of the wine house.

Kiram thought he heard someone shouting for help, glimpsed the blur of a young woman running up the street, but he could hardly think. Blood poured down his nose. The knuckles of his right fist felt split and broken. The man in front of him grinned and the wall behind him offered no escape.

When the man swung Kiram dropped into a crouch, letting the wine house take the blow. The man shouted in pain and Kiram bounded up, driving his whole weight into the man's face, crushing his nose and hurling him back. Blood gushed over Kiram's fist. His attacker groaned and stumbled and Kiram bolted free.

A block away he heard the alarm whistles of the Civic Guards but he didn't look back and he didn't stop running.