Spin the Dawn(63)

Korin held her breath, marveling at my work. “Did you embroider this yourself?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. The truth was, I’d used the scissors, but I was gradually coming around to the idea that their work was also mine. I saw now how they enhanced my natural abilities and let me experiment with designs I’d never dared before. I carefully folded the gown and began teaching Korin how to mend her family’s garments.

While she practiced on Orksan’s clothes, I lost count of how many pants I hemmed and sleeves I patched, but I was glad to have something to keep my hands busy. Though Korin seemed happy to have me around and tried to talk to me, I kept my guard up. I wasn’t very clever at making small talk anyway.

“My first proper buttonhole,” Korin said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. We were under the shade of a tent, but it was still brutally hot.

I examined her work and offered a nod. “That looks good.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t know how you do it so quickly. Sewing’s hard work.”

“It’s my trade. Orksan says you’re a fine cook. I couldn’t imagine having to feed all these men every day.”

“Yes, it is easier with only two of you.” She chuckled, and paused. “So, how long have you and Delann been married?”

My breath caught in my throat, and I yanked and broke the thread. Married?

I stared at my stitching and picked out the mistake I’d just made. I slipped the thread into my mouth to moisten it, then rethreaded my needle and began again. Korin waited expectantly for my reply.

“How could we be…married?” I said, faltering at the end. “We’re cousins. Almost like brothers.”

“You don’t fool me,” she said with a laugh. “Or Orksan. I knew you were a woman the moment I saw you. It’s the reason Orksan didn’t shoot at your companion out there.”

“Oh—oh,” I stuttered, looking down at my chest. We’d seen the caravan so suddenly I hadn’t gotten a chance to bandage it before meeting Orksan.

Korin laughed at me. “It had nothing to do with that, my friend. I saw how protective Delann is of you. Yet he respects you. Took me years before I could convince Orksan to take me out with him on the Road. But now that the boys are older and the war’s over…he is more amenable to the idea. He didn’t make me dress as a man, though—but it’s probably a good idea, since it’s only the two of you traveling together.”

I returned to my needlework. “Did Orksan and his brothers fight in the war?”

“Is that why you’re so quiet around us?” Korin asked. “Because you think we fought with the shansen?”

I didn’t say anything. I’d heard terrible stories about Balardan fighters pillaging towns, killing women and children.

“Nah,” Korin said. “My husband’s no soldier. His knife is for fur and meat….The shansen hired mostly mercenaries—professional fighters.”

I pursed my lips. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“It’s understandable.” Korin put a hand on her hip. “I’m from Balar myself, unlike Orksan. Born and raised on the Spice Road, my husband. He gets anxious when he’s not on the move in a caravan or a ship.”

“I’ve never sailed on a ship,” I confessed, trying to open up a little. “Though I grew up in a port town.”

“And Delann? He doesn’t look like he’s from A’landi. Where did you meet?”

Best to keep to the truth, given my clumsiness at lying. “In Niyan.”

“He’s a charming one, your husband. You’re a lucky girl.”

I knotted my thread, plucking the needle from the fabric. “He’s not…” I closed my mouth. Maybe it was better to let her think I was Edan’s wife. Fewer questions would be asked that way. “He’s not…always charming,” I said instead. “Sometimes he can be quite annoying.”

“Ay, but you trust him,” Korin said. “And your trust doesn’t come easily.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I simply smiled at her. She was a stranger, and a Balardan at that, but I could be friendly. And after weeks traveling alone with Edan, it was nice to talk with another woman, as a woman.

For the rest of the afternoon, I showed Korin how to knot a net to protect herself from mosquito bites, to darn socks, and to properly patch a hole. She in turn taught me how to make a hearty stew out of as little as three ingredients. While we worked, she regaled me with tales about her children and Orksan’s travels.

When dinner was nearly ready, I left Korin’s tent. Edan was outside playing with the children, pulling coins out of their ears and making desert flowers appear from his sleeve.

“You’re good with children,” I remarked.

“You sound surprised,” he teased. “I was a child once too, you know.”

“Maybe a hundred years ago,” I said dryly. My retort earned me a quiet chuckle. I was learning that the less I asked about Edan’s past, the more comfortable he felt telling me about it.

He didn’t offer more, but he settled on the ground beside me. “There’s going to be a flushed moon tonight,” he said. “Will you watch it rise?”

“Will you be there?”