The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1)(59)

“Mmm. Too young for sense, too old to beat. But young women are worse, trust me. Three daughters back home, along with my other three sons. Should probably beat my husband for inflicting all of them on me, but he’s pretty and he doesn’t eat much, so I keep him around.” She cocked her head, examining him. “You’re pretty. You have a wife?”

Ehiru heartily wished that Kanek would hurry back. “No, mistress.”

“You looking?” She grinned, flashing a substantial gap between her front teeth. In the southern lands this marked a woman of great passion, or so Ehiru had heard.

“No, mistress.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a servant, mistress.” He and Nijiri had decided to keep up their guise at all times, though Gehanu had already guessed that they were not what they seemed. She didn’t know the whole truth, and there was no way of knowing who might be listening, through thin tent walls.

“Got to make more servants somehow, che? Nefe is pretty.”

Ehiru forced a laugh. “True. But she is of a different world, mistress.”

“Hn, yes. No time for children anyway, that one. Always busy she is, always worried about something. She needs a nice mellow man like you, but she’ll never slow down enough for that.”

The flap lifted again—much to Ehiru’s relief—and Kanek slipped inside. “Ghete.” He set a small bladder, tied with a leather cord, down on the tent-rug.

“What did the headman want for it?” Gehanu asked.

“Nothing. He was so surprised that we wanted it that he gave it to me without asking anything in trade.”

“Ha! He must be getting senile. Good. I’ll trade more with him tomorrow. Now go bathe; you reek.”

Kanek rolled his eyes behind Gehanu’s back, winked and grinned at Ehiru, and left. Ehiru bowed humbly in thanks and reached for the bladder. Gehanu’s hand fell on his own, forestalling him.

“You understand our ways are different from yours, che?” Her mouth stretched in something that was not quite a smile; her eyes were serious. “I know her time will come soon; I’m not a fool. But remember: she did not ask for you.”

Ehiru froze, realizing all at once what she meant and wondering how she’d figured it out and deciding at last that it made no difference. Such things were Hananja’s will.

“I shall respect her wishes,” he said, discarding the affected manner of speech he’d used before. “Her life does no harm, so her death is her choice.”

Gehanu gave him a long and assessing look, but finally nodded and let his hand go. “I met one of your kind once, long ago,” she said. “Came to take a Gujaareen in our troop whose appendix had burst. He was quiet and strange like you, but there was great kindness in his eyes.”

Ehiru let go of the bladder of eathir, now that they both knew he didn’t need it. If the old woman refused him, Gehanu’s people could give it to her in a tea. “Is that how you knew me?”

“I suspected, but I wasn’t certain. He wasn’t sad like you. I didn’t think your kind got sad, or mad, or anything else.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you aren’t supposed to, are you? What’s wrong with you?”

“I am preparing myself to die.”

“What in the gods’ names for?”

He could not bring himself to lie, though he knew the truth would make her uneasy. “I destroyed a man’s soul.”

Gehanu caught her breath and drew back, horror plain on her face. Then it faded, replaced by concern. “Was it an accident?”

So few others had asked that question. It was a relief to not be assumed evil. “Yes.” He gazed down at his hands. “And no. It was incompetence. I forgot my duty and let fear and prejudice dictate my actions. Only for a moment, but that was enough.”

She frowned. “Do you intend to do it again?”

“Of course not. But there are—”

“Then stop your moaning and move on.” She gestured with one hand and abruptly noticed the unlit pipe in it. “Damn forgetful brat.” She set the pipe down. “My grandmother needs you, Gatherer, so wake up and do your job. Go on now.”

He blinked in surprise. “You trust me to complete this task properly?”

“Are you deaf?”

Ehiru opened his mouth, then closed it. She had given him her answer already. For a moment he was overwhelmed, his heart feeling as if it would burst from gratitude—and terror too, for what if he should mishandle this Gathering like the last one?

No. Gehanu was right. Talithele needed the Gatherer Ehiru, not the miserable penitent of the past few days. He took a deep breath and straightened. “I accept your commission. I shall prepare myself and then speak with Talithele-elder, to make an Assay of Truth.”

She inclined her head in approval as he got to his feet and left.

Nijiri was hovering nearby, of course. “A bath first,” Ehiru said, and wordlessly the boy followed him to the village’s bathhouse. Ehiru paid for both of them and a village man led them into the washing chamber, where they undressed and sat while the man scrubbed them both with palm fronds and acrid soap. After the rinse, they were led to the bathing chamber and left there to soak in the warm, oiled, and scented water. Nijiri kept a respectful silence the whole time, allowing Ehiru a precious few moments to pray. When Ehiru had soaked enough, he was surprised to find that his mind was quiescent, his heart at peace. He lifted his head. Nijiri had been watching him; when he saw Ehiru’s eyes he smiled.