The Godspeaker Trilogy by Karen Miller

bitter. Demons dressed in plague and pestilence. Women who spawned she-brats only were demon-ridden. They had opened their legs to a demon so their man’s seed was poisoned. That was why such women were stoned. Only stoning could drive out a demon and afterwards sacrifice, because demons had power where the people did not love the god enough.
    I love the god , she promised, as her snake-eye amulet bruised her fingers. Do not let the demons prick me .
    “I know, I know we must travel swiftly,” moaned Yagji, and tugged his godbraids. “But so much lost money, Aba!”
    Abajai growled. “What is money to a dead man in the grass? We are no match for a warlord’s raiding party.”
    “No, but perhaps we will not see one!”
    “That is not a risk I am prepared to take,” said Abajai, sounding grim. “You have eyes, Yagji, you see Et-Jokriel is turning brown. It is not alone, you saw how changed are Et-Bajadek and Et-Takona since last we caravanned through them. Those warlords will soon be at each other’s throats, spilling blood.”
    “Each other’s throats, Aba,” Yagji wheedled. “Not ours. We are Traders, no part of their squabbles.”
    “When the bloodlust is on them they will not care!” Abajai’s voice was cold and hard. “And we are from Et-Raklion. Raklion warlord’s lands are still lush and green. That alone is cause for hate.”
    Yagji sighed again. “True.”
    “Et-Raklion is like a fat lamb cast before a pack of starving dogs. When the other warlords have stolen all they can from each other there is where they will turn their envious eyes. They might even think to defy the god and band together in a single attack. We must be home before that happens. You do not believe me?” Abajai added, as Yagji fidgeted. “Then I will read the godbones, and the god will tell you.”
    Through slitted eyes Hekat watched Abajai study his godbones. The scarlet scorpion in his check was restless as he rolled the painted pieces of snake-spine, read them, and rolled them some more. She had never seen godbones painted like that, blood red and venom green and blue like the sky at highsun. The man had godbones, small, chipped and bare of paint. He’d made them himself after a snake-dance and was never pleased with what they told him. The racing lizards he bet on always lost.
    But neither was Abajai pleased with his fine godbones. His scarlet scorpion leapt and writhed. In the flickering firelight it looked like it was stinging Abajai. His forehead sweated, his breathing rasped.
    “Well? Well? What do they say?” Yagji demanded.
    “They say what I have said already,” Abajai whispered harshly. “We must caravan hard to Et-Nogolor city, sell the merchandise there and seek the swiftest way home to Et-Raklion.”
    “Aieee!” said Yagji, pressing his palms to his plump cheeks. Then he flicked a sideways, hopeful glance. “Sell all the merchandise?”
    Hekat stopped pretending to sleep, she threw herself to the edge of Abajai’s blanket. “Abajai not sell Hekat!” Her teeth chattered with fear. “Hekat belong to Abajai!”
    “There, Aba, you see what you’ve done?” said Yagji, outraged. “It’s got attached! You made a pet of it and it’s got attached!” He took her by the shoulders and shook her till her eyes rolled. “You be quiet! Shall I beat you? Shall I give you to the god? Be quiet with your howling, you wretched monkey!”
    “Be still, Hekat,” said Abajai. “You also, Yagji.” The scorpion in his cheek was sleeping now, his fingers plucked up the godbones one by one and slipped them into their snakeskin pouch. When it was full he closed his eyes and pressed it to his lips.
    Yagji released her. She sat on the cold ground and waited as Abajai gave thanks to the god for its teachings in the bones. She had no fear of a beating. Yagji told Abajai all the time he should beat her, and Abajai never listened. She knew he never would. Abajai would never hurt her.
    “You belong to Abajai, Hekat,” he