Sword Bound

Chapter 34

NEESHA WAS SITTING OUTSIDE ON THE BENCH on Tamar’s porch when I finally awakened and went out to look at the day and its weather, carrying the tack I’d collected from Del’s room. Seeing him made me pause a moment. Tied at the porch posts were the stud, Del’s gelding, Neesha’s bay.

He sat on the bench next to the basin of water for washing feet, slumped against the wall. It made me look down at my feet. My poor sandals were stiff from water and mud, though I’d cleaned off most of the leather because of Tamar. Either they’d soften as I wore them, or I’d need new ones.

“Feet all clean?” I did not want to venture onto the uncomfortable ground we’d walked the night before.

“They’ll do.” Neesha rose. “I ran into Eddrith at a tavern. He, of all people, had the five horses. He didn’t know where to take them. And he doesn’t know where the raiders may have taken the rest. For all we know they’ve already been sold.”

I knew that was a bitter and painful realization for him. So many years put into developing superior breeding stock, and now only five were left. I went to the stud and began getting all the pieces arranged in order. “Any of them a stud horse?”

Neesha shook his head. “Two of the mares are obviously in foal. If the other three were bred, it’s too early for me to know.”

“So no stallion.”

“We—well, my father, providing he can—will need to find a good stallion elsewhere and breed the three mares to him, if they’re not in foal.”

“I’d offer my stud, but I hardly think he’s what you want to breed.” He had never been a particularly attractive horse, but I couldn’t have asked for a better one in so many ways.

Neesha’s lips twitched wryly. “Well, no.” He sighed. “So I guess they’re starting over. After thirty years.”

“No, you’re not,” I told him. “You have five good mares. Two are in foal. You know what good brood mares are worth. And they’re not the first mares your father ever bought. He’ll know a good stallion for them. And you could get a stud colt from one of the two mares in foal. You aren’t starting from the very beginning where no one will sell you a good mare.” I brightened. “And there’s the roan mare I inherited from Kirit. Six mares will help get the farm on its feet again.”

After a moment, he nodded. “That’s true.”

“So we ride to Sabir’s and Yahmina’s today.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to run the mares loose, or pony them off of our mounts?”

He thought it over. “Easier to let them go on their own. They’ll look to your stud to make the decisions.”

“Oh, that could be a problem, if he decides to pitch a fit.”

“He only pitches a fit with you. He knows you expect it, so he gives it to you.”

That sounded more like the old Neesha. “Will Rashida ride double with one of us, or ride a mare bareback?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Let her choose,” I suggested. “Give her something to think about.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Where are the horses now?”

“In a corral at the livery.” He rose. “I’ll go over there. Once you and Del are ready, we can turn the mares loose and send them out of town. I think they had enough of freedom yesterday. They’ll stay close.”

“Well, if you see Eddrith, tell him we’re leaving town. He’s not going to get his sparring session unless he finds me on the trail. I’m not waiting for him.”

Neesha nodded absently as he stepped off the porch, mind on the horses and the journey.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” I asked.

Neesha’s smile was very faint, but recognizable. “Well, no. I already had breakfast.”

“Elsewhere?”

“Elsewhere.”

“With female companionship?”

“With female companionship.”

I grinned and went back into Tamar’s inn. I remembered my days at Neesha’s age. No responsibilities except in the circle. And women who did not expect you to stay. Though it was best, as Neesha had learned, not to go to bed with married ones.

That is, I hoped he had learned it.

Since I didn’t know Rashida prior to the abduction, I couldn’t compare her behavior now to what it had been. But she walked out of the inn with composure, hair combed and tied back, clothing clean and neat. I’m sure Del had told her all the raiders were dead, so she need not look for them around every corner every moment. I wondered, however, if it was possible not to look. I could not imagine what it was like for any woman, let alone a young girl, to go through what Rashida had.

Tamar gave her some clothing and mentioned in passing that she wore the outfit when she rode many years ago—I had trouble picturing her as a carefree young woman.

Rashida wore a long rusty-brown tunic with split sides, a long skirt also with split sides, and a doubled leather belt, though Tamar said the buckle had broken a long time ago. It was now tied off like a latigo on a saddle. The end dangled to her knees. She was, however, barefoot; Del said no one had any boots or sandals that would fit.

Rashida shrugged. “I’ll ride barefoot. I ride that way around home all the time.”

Then it struck her, as it did us, that she would not be riding around the home she’d known all of her life. And Neesha, who’d been refused several times when wishing to see her, wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. He just hugged her. Hugged and hugged. Rashida clamped her arms around his waist and pressed her head into his chest. She was trembling.

I glanced at Del. I had no idea what had been said among the women yesterday, and I don’t know if Rashida cried then, but she did now, holding onto the only one spared the fire and outrage done to her family. I thought it was probably a very good thing.

When Neesha looked over her shoulder at me, tears were visible on his face. He was not so self-conscious as to try to hide them. “We’ll go see the horses,” he said. “Rasha can pick which she’d like to ride.” Before any of us could say anything, he set her down and turned away from us. With his hand resting gently on the back of her neck, they walked down the street toward the livery.

Watching that, I said grimly, “It’s a good thing those men are already dead. Because I’d kill them again. And more painfully.”

Del met my eyes, understanding completely. Her face was tight, her tone tighter still. “I think we should have done as I suggested. Cut off arms, legs, let them bleed, then take the head.”

This time I didn’t argue her out of it.

Tamar looked at Del’s face, then at mine. Her mouth was compressed, her eyes fierce. “It’s too bad she can’t kill them. The girl.”

Del looked at her sharply, clearly surprised. And in Del’s eyes I saw the memory of what she had experienced; how, after five years of training, she had killed Ajani, the man who had done to her what had been done to Rashida.

Then Tamar smiled thinly. “Take her home.” She nodded at us both, then went inside and shut the door.

Rashida ended up riding her brother’s bay, rather than any of the mares. Del’s idea. When I got the chance, I asked her why.

“Backbone,” Del said quietly, as Rashida and Neesha rode close together a little ahead of us. He was bareback on one of the mares who were not obviously in foal.

“What? What about a backbone?”

Del looked at me a moment, as if trying to find the right words. Finally she said, “She was raped repeatedly. A saddle is…more comfortable.”

Neesha’s saddle wouldn’t fit any of the mares as well as the horse who usually wore it, true. But then I realized what she meant. Oh, hoolies. “You know, I understand a little better now how you dedicated yourself to learning the sword. The oaths you swore. The obsession—yes, bascha, that’s what it was. Don’t look at me like that—you followed through to completion. And I think for Neesha’s sake, it’s good the raiders are dead, too.”

Del thought for a long moment, staring ahead at my son and his sister riding side-by-side. Her expression was strange. Finally she looked at me. “It will make him a better sword-dancer.”

It stunned me. For a moment I couldn’t speak. Then, as I started to, Del cut me off with a gesture.

“I know,” she said levelly. “I know perfectly well what that sounds like and how it would shock others to hear it. I didn’t say it for effect. I said it because that’s what Neesha wants to do with his life. Sometimes it takes the obsession you mentioned, or a potent will to overcome a dangerous and deadly challenge, or just giving oneself over completely to what one most wants to do. I don’t know what the future holds for Neesha, whether he’ll stay with his family or come back to us, but I do know that this will make him a better sword-dancer. It’s difficult to be as good as he wishes when one is not driven by demons. You and I know about those demons. Neesha didn’t; now he does. It just depends on what he wants of life now.”

I held my tongue, thinking all of that through before saying anything. Finally I nodded. “I understand. I don’t want to, but I do. Yet in a way, I wish he could have avoided this. Tempering is difficult. Tempering is painful.”

“Tempering is necessary, Tiger. For us. For people like us. He’s not like us, and he won’t be, I don’t think, but he can’t be a sword-dancer, a true sword-dancer, without understanding how it lives in us. And now a little of it lives in Neesha. Now he must decide.”

Neesha’s decision was to remain with his family. He told me after we’d put the mares back into a corral at Sabir’s and Yahmina’s; after he’d lifted Rashida down from the saddle and walked her into the house. Del and I heard Danika’s cry all the way outside. After a moment, Neesha walked back out and came straight to us.

“I can’t be in two places,” he said evenly. “I have to choose which. It will take my father a long time to heal, and there is a house to rebuild. Mares soon to foal. They need my help. But you—” He looked straight at me. “You don’t need my help. I know you’d say you did, but you don’t. You have plenty of other students. I’ve been with you two years. You’ve taught me so much. But you don’t need me.”

He wasn’t cruel. He didn’t say it to hurt me, to disrespect me, to make me angry. He said what was in his heart at that particular moment. And he was right. They needed his help more than I needed his company.

I managed to summon a faint smile. He believed what he believed. There were all kind of remonstrations I might make, all manner of protestation, but I couldn’t say anything to him. I couldn’t say a word. I let him believe what he believed.

Neesha said, “Yahmina is cooking a huge pot of stew. Sabir has ale.” He smiled. “It will be cramped, but I think we can fit everyone in the house.”

I intended to thank him and say Del and I needed to get back on the road, but she spoke before I could. “That will be good, Neesha. We’ll put our mounts over at the tree again, set up a small camp as before.”

He smiled at me. “Come in and get some ale.”

Del and I rode over to the tree and began the usual tasks of untacking, picketing, watering, graining, setting out bedrolls, sorting through saddle pouches. When we were done, Del stepped close and took my hand. “I think even I will have some ale.”

After dinner, after Sabir’s ale, I slept for several hours. Then I woke up. I wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon, so I crawled out of bed, took care of business, walked out from under the thick tree canopy to look up at the stars, at the half-faced moon, and think about my son.

I heard Del as she came to me. She stood very close by my side, saying nothing. Listening to the night. Then she stepped around to face me, to wrap her arms around me. Mine went around her. I hung on to her for the saving of my soul.

“I’m sorry.” She stroked the back of my head. “Oh Tiger, I’m so sorry.”

I nodded against the silk of her hair. I had no words in me. Nothing adequate. Nothing at all.

Of course he had to stay. It was best for him to stay.

For Rasha. His mother. His father.