Chapter 2 #2
Most people were too superstitious to get close to the water, but Rae was curious.
She’d bent to dip her fingers and found the water oddly thick and foul-smelling, but it lacked the copper tang of blood.
Still, after several people were sickened by drinking river water that morning, a wave of panic had engulfed the city.
Just what we need, Rae had thought bitterly.
But hearing the water had returned to normal, she hoped the crisis—that crisis at least—had passed.
She stopped spinning the golden bead, leaving the Eye of Ra facing up.
What did it mean, the river turning red? What are the gods trying to tell us?
Perhaps the answer could be found in Thonis.
“We should get on with our preparations,” Omari said, brushing breadcrumbs from his hands and pushing back his chair.
“Yes, yes, much to do,” Mamet Mut agreed.
After some final words, the inner circle dispersed, leaving Rae alone with the unappetizing bowl of lentils. Sighing, she stuffed a couple of spoonfuls in her mouth, drained the rest of her water, and went to have a conversation with the eavesdropper.
***
“Why were you spying on us, Tam?”
Rae found Tamerit in the storage room, stooping to take inventory of the food supplies, fishing equipment, and weapons that they’d set aside for the journey to Thonis.
Tam stilled, then straightened. Instead of her usual formfitting kalasiris dress, she wore a coarse, belted tunic, and her tightly curled black hair had been pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. After a long pause, she resumed her work, not sparing a single glance in Rae’s direction.
“I wouldn’t have to spy on you if you’d invited me to the meeting,” she said.
Rae sighed and rubbed her temple with one hand. “You’re a member of the Horizon now. You and the other weavers. Isn’t that enough? We have to keep the inner circle small, so—”
Tam whirled to face her. “Leave the potter’s son. Take me to Thonis.”
Rae stared at her in disbelief. “Absolutely not,” she blurted.
Two circles of color appeared on Tam’s cheeks. Like a raging bull, she marched over to glare up at Rae, unfazed that Rae was a head taller.
“Why? Because I’m not a ‘good fighter’? You don’t know what you’ll find when you get to the capital. How do you know I wouldn’t be a vital part of the plan? Because I’m not a man? Even after everything that’s happened, you’re still as bad as they are!”
“No!” Rae exclaimed, her own anger rising. “That’s not why! I don’t want you to come because…” She faltered.
“Well?” Tam’s gaze was searching. Then her expression softened. “Oh. Oh, I see. You’re afraid.”
“Of course I’m afraid!” Rae exclaimed, a little too loudly. She glanced over her shoulder, but no one else seemed to be around. She lowered her voice and tenderly cupped the back of Tam’s neck with one hand. “I can’t lose you too.”
Tam covered Rae’s large hand with her smaller one. “This is war, Raetawy. You know that I’m no safer here in Sakesh than I would be in Thonis. If you let me join you, at least we’d be together.”
Rae pursed her lips. She knew the mantle of leadership would be heavy, but she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to separate her emotions from what was good for the collective.
Tam was right—the weaver did bring a different set of skills to the group.
Unlike Omari, who was as intimidating as an ox, and practical Kay, Tam was clever, persuasive, and had the ability to insinuate herself into any group of people.
Like a spy, Rae thought. A spy would be useful in Thonis…
She hated placing Tam in danger, but the weaver made a good point. Staying in Sakesh wasn’t safe either. Rae growled in frustration. “Fine,” she said helplessly. “The gods forgive me. The potter’s son is out. You’re in.”
Tam’s face lit up. “Thanks be to Ra!” she cried, then threw her arms around Rae’s neck and kissed her.
Rae felt a rush of unexpected pleasure. She’d wondered if she’d ever be capable of that kind of joy again, but there it was. Tamerit gave it to her as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
What began as a kiss quickly evolved into more.
Suddenly, desperate to eliminate any space between them, Rae stumbled forward, knocking over several baskets of fruit in the process, until she had Tam’s back pressed up against the stone wall.
Rae’s mouth roved over Tam’s neck and collarbone, while the weaver began pulling at Rae’s tunic, trying to remove it.
“Someone might see,” Rae protested, weakly.
“They all left. There’s no one here,” Tam replied, breathless, her lips at Rae’s ear, her tongue darting, searching.
Rae allowed Tam to unbuckle her belt and slip off the tunic, casting it to the floor.
Tam’s own tunic had fallen off one shoulder, sending Rae into a frenzy of desire.
Standing there in nothing but her loincloth, Rae kissed the weaver’s smooth, copper skin—but froze as Tam’s fingers touched the scars on her back.
“Don’t,” she said. She’d removed the bandages the day before, although she’d kept the arrow wound she’d sustained from the ambush wrapped. After taking them off, she’d managed to get a glimpse of her back in an old bronze mirror. It looked…bad.
“Don’t,” she repeated quietly.
Tam cocked her head. “Let me see.” Her voice was the coo of a mourning dove.
Rae took a step back, flushing. “It’s horrible.”
The weaver reached for her hand and held it firmly. “Let me be the judge of that.”
With a shuddering breath, Rae turned. Folding her arms over her breasts, she winced as Tam’s gentle touch traced the lines of scarring where the nomarch’s flail had torn into her flesh. Rae listened for a response—a gasp of horror, a cluck of pity—but Tam was silent.
After a moment, Rae felt the weaver’s lips on her skin, feather-soft, anointing each scar with a kiss.
She recoiled. “What are you doing?”
Tam said, “Don’t you see? These scars—they’re evidence of your courage. They inspired a rebellion. I’m sorry they cause you pain, but you shouldn’t be ashamed of them. You shouldn’t be ashamed of anything.”
Rae turned back around and gathered the weaver into her arms. When she spoke, her voice was husky.
“Baki said that son of a dog gave me fifty lashes, did you know that? He counted.” Rae brushed a coil of hair away from Tam’s face and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I would take a hundred more, for you.”
The weaver’s brow furrowed, a dozen emotions crossing her face. “Rae,” she whispered, and then leaned in until their lips met once again.
They were entwined together when a voice called from outside the door. “Ay? Is that you? I wanted to ask—”
Rae and Tam flew apart. Rae dove for her clothes on the floor, but it was too late.
Omari stood in the doorway, staring at them in open-mouthed shock as Rae held the tunic over her bare chest.
“I-I thought you’d left,” Rae stammered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t know… We were just…”
Omari put up his hands to silence her and shook his head. “I’ll come back later.” His expression was unreadable, and before Rae could stop him, he’d turned on his heel and was gone.
With a deep sigh, Rae leaned against the stone wall and gently slid to the floor, her head in her hands. “That is not how I intended for him to find out about us.”
Tam sat down next to her, plucking a couple figs from a basket and popping one in her mouth. She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like you were going to tell him.”
“I was! At the right time!” Rae retorted.
Tam rolled her eyes. “Sure you were. What are you so worried about? You said there was no spark between you. That you two are simply friends. So, what is it? Do you think he won’t look at you the same way now that he knows you prefer the company of women?”
Rae buried her knuckles in her eyes until she saw stars. “No…Yes… I don’t know. When we were kids, we swore never to keep secrets from each other—and this seems like a big secret.”
Tam snuggled up next to her, the soft roundness of her body so comforting that Rae had little choice but to relax. “You’re allowed to have a private life,” she said. “Besides, I’d wager there are things Omari keeps from you too.”
Rae nodded.
Tam kissed her on the cheek and helped her pull the tunic back over her head. “Come on. No more fun for today. We’ve got a lot of work to do to prepare for tomorrow!”
The two of them finished inventorying the supplies, and Rae was grateful for the distraction. She told herself that Tam was right, that Omari was probably just embarrassed to have interrupted them and wouldn’t mention it again. That all would go on unchanged between them.
She told herself that and almost believed it.