she was not really a Sunjaa. No more was she
really an Ausir.
“ I will see them, of
course.” Sillara did not show on her face any of her discomfort. “But do not
let my parents be disturbed.”
“ Of course not, Mistress.” Ileke slipped away from Sillara's
side and went to the gate. There she held a whispered conversation that Sillara
could hear perfectly.
“ The Queen of the Ausir
will hear your pleas,” said Ileke. “If you will be quiet, orderly, and patient,
she will touch each one of you.” She unlatched the gate, and the small
crowd—not so small as Sillara had at first hoped—entered as quietly as
twenty-five barefoot Sunjaa could.
“ We will do anything if
the Queen will only see us.” The spokesman for the crowd was a middle-aged man
with a withered arm. “Her touch is our only cure.”
Sillara did not bother trying to
refasten her hair. She squared her shoulders and moved toward the gathered
crowd. “How can I help you?” she asked. She hoped that her parents were already
indoors. The last time Kamen had caught her at this she had been kept within
her chambers for a week.
“ We seek your gracious
touch, O Queen.” The same middle-aged man spoke again. “Our Queen, Queen of all
the destitute.”
Ileke had resumed her place by
Sillara's side, and the pride with which her body-slave walked would have
brought a smile to Sillara's lips had she not made out her parents' litter
entering the courtyard.
Sillara resolved to continue. It
was too late now to retreat, and she would not have it said she turned away any
who came to her, even if what they sought she could not give. “I will touch
you.” Sillara smiled at the man and laid her hand on his arm.
“ Thank you, mighty
Queen.” He bowed to her and shuffled away, walking backward lest he turn his
back to her.
Sillara bit her lip. Her father
would doubtless see this. Even as she touched the feverish baby a young mother
held out, Sillara heard her father and mother exiting their litter.
“ What is going on here?”
Kamen's roar broke the stillness of the courtyard, and despite his volume,
Sillara could make out the harsh intake of her mother's breath.
“ I will be just a moment,
Father.” Sillara quickly touched a young woman with no visible illness, but the
haunted, haggard look in her eyes told Sillara that there was something indeed
amiss. Perhaps she cannot conceive.
“ Sillara.” Kamen traversed the courtyard and laid his hand on her arm,
staying her.
“ Yes, Father?” Sillara
looked up into his eyes, but she did not see there the disapproval she had
dreaded. She saw fear, and her heart ached.
“ How often do they come?”
asked Kamen. Ajalira was at his side, and Sillara saw reflected in her mother
the same fear she felt in her father.
“ Not too often.”
“ Sillara.” Ajalira shook her head.
“ At least once every
three days,” said Sillara. “But since they came last night I had hoped they
would not today.” Since her parents were not sending away her supplicants,
Sillara turned back to the poor, suffering people. Touch and touch. A coin given. A kiss dropped on the brow of a child. Touch
and touch.
Sillara hoped that, by the time she
had finished, her parents would have already gone back inside, but she knew her
hope was vain. She did not hear their footsteps retreating, though she did not
turn to look at them.
“ What do they call you,
daughter?” Kamen seemed suddenly old to Sillara's eyes, and tears spilled down
her cheeks.
“ I am sorry, Father,
truly.”
“ Let us take this
indoors, my love.” Ajalira's hand on Kamen's trembled slightly, and Sillara
caught the movement.
In silence Sillara followed her
parents through the wide corridors of her father's house, and she knew with a
cold piercing of her heart that this was not her home.
No one spoke, aside from Kamen
giving order for a fire and mulled wine. The sea breezes could lend a chill to
the marbled rooms, and only when Kamen and Ajalira
really an Ausir.
“ I will see them, of
course.” Sillara did not show on her face any of her discomfort. “But do not
let my parents be disturbed.”
“ Of course not, Mistress.” Ileke slipped away from Sillara's
side and went to the gate. There she held a whispered conversation that Sillara
could hear perfectly.
“ The Queen of the Ausir
will hear your pleas,” said Ileke. “If you will be quiet, orderly, and patient,
she will touch each one of you.” She unlatched the gate, and the small
crowd—not so small as Sillara had at first hoped—entered as quietly as
twenty-five barefoot Sunjaa could.
“ We will do anything if
the Queen will only see us.” The spokesman for the crowd was a middle-aged man
with a withered arm. “Her touch is our only cure.”
Sillara did not bother trying to
refasten her hair. She squared her shoulders and moved toward the gathered
crowd. “How can I help you?” she asked. She hoped that her parents were already
indoors. The last time Kamen had caught her at this she had been kept within
her chambers for a week.
“ We seek your gracious
touch, O Queen.” The same middle-aged man spoke again. “Our Queen, Queen of all
the destitute.”
Ileke had resumed her place by
Sillara's side, and the pride with which her body-slave walked would have
brought a smile to Sillara's lips had she not made out her parents' litter
entering the courtyard.
Sillara resolved to continue. It
was too late now to retreat, and she would not have it said she turned away any
who came to her, even if what they sought she could not give. “I will touch
you.” Sillara smiled at the man and laid her hand on his arm.
“ Thank you, mighty
Queen.” He bowed to her and shuffled away, walking backward lest he turn his
back to her.
Sillara bit her lip. Her father
would doubtless see this. Even as she touched the feverish baby a young mother
held out, Sillara heard her father and mother exiting their litter.
“ What is going on here?”
Kamen's roar broke the stillness of the courtyard, and despite his volume,
Sillara could make out the harsh intake of her mother's breath.
“ I will be just a moment,
Father.” Sillara quickly touched a young woman with no visible illness, but the
haunted, haggard look in her eyes told Sillara that there was something indeed
amiss. Perhaps she cannot conceive.
“ Sillara.” Kamen traversed the courtyard and laid his hand on her arm,
staying her.
“ Yes, Father?” Sillara
looked up into his eyes, but she did not see there the disapproval she had
dreaded. She saw fear, and her heart ached.
“ How often do they come?”
asked Kamen. Ajalira was at his side, and Sillara saw reflected in her mother
the same fear she felt in her father.
“ Not too often.”
“ Sillara.” Ajalira shook her head.
“ At least once every
three days,” said Sillara. “But since they came last night I had hoped they
would not today.” Since her parents were not sending away her supplicants,
Sillara turned back to the poor, suffering people. Touch and touch. A coin given. A kiss dropped on the brow of a child. Touch
and touch.
Sillara hoped that, by the time she
had finished, her parents would have already gone back inside, but she knew her
hope was vain. She did not hear their footsteps retreating, though she did not
turn to look at them.
“ What do they call you,
daughter?” Kamen seemed suddenly old to Sillara's eyes, and tears spilled down
her cheeks.
“ I am sorry, Father,
truly.”
“ Let us take this
indoors, my love.” Ajalira's hand on Kamen's trembled slightly, and Sillara
caught the movement.
In silence Sillara followed her
parents through the wide corridors of her father's house, and she knew with a
cold piercing of her heart that this was not her home.
No one spoke, aside from Kamen
giving order for a fire and mulled wine. The sea breezes could lend a chill to
the marbled rooms, and only when Kamen and Ajalira
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