Chapter 24 #2
Ragnar joined her, peering over her shoulder. His brows furrowed. "What does it say? About Ukhel?"
Azul traced the inscriptions, remembering the pain she suffered to copy them out just for them to be tossed aside the moment Somadina came in the room.
Her right wrist trembled slightly at the memory, so she stopped moving her hand in such small increments.
"To Ukhel, God of the Seven Hells, keeper of the gates of death, Lord, giver of life. No one loves without his permission; no one lives without his permission. And to all who worship him, he promises a life on the cusp of death. No mortal has managed to escape his grasp, barring one."
She stopped reading, and he carried on.
"Son to no one, Father to all who cross the boundaries of life and death," his voice seemed to speed up as he read, excitement gracing his eyes.
"If you know it, why make me read it?" she asked in an accusatory tone, turning around to find herself trapped between the warlord and the inscriptions.
Her mouth went dry, she diverted her gaze from his chest. "Do you know my voice is expensive?
If I were to sing, I would be sought after by all brothels in the Ante-continent. "
He peered down at her, eyes crinkling, amused that she compared herself to a brothel girl.
"What?" she asked. "Don’t believe me?"
"I believe you."
He surrendered so easily; it caught her off guard and left her momentarily speechless.
"I thought you didn't worship him, yet you know the words to his scripture," he said to her.
Azul pursed her lips. "I don’t worship any god; my chi is a useless one... sometimes."
"Should you change your mind, Ukhel would never abandon you."
Azul laughed at his poor attempt to comfort. Naturally, death never truly abandoned anyone. She understood somewhat why someone like Ragnar would worship such a deity.
"Come, let me check your wounds and change your bandages. I might be your betrothed, but I am still your physician."
His ears turned red, which tickled her to notice, but she quietly returned to her quarters to bring back some supplies.
Under the pavilion in her courtyard, Azul unwrapped, cleaned and inspected the stitches; most were healing fine. She found herself pressing against the muscles of his side; truly, he must be a great warrior. As she worked, the question that had tickled at her formed on her lips.
"Why did you come all the way here, Great Khan? For a wife? Your tribe must have women. Powerful clans must offer alliances. I suppose you must miss the Steppes dearly."
He was silent for a long moment. "A khatun is a pillar," he said finally, his voice low.
"She holds the tribe steady when the khan rides to war.
She must be shrewd. Unbending. I did not necessarily come set on this alliance, but I was willing to find someone I could not find on the Steppes.
" A dry, almost imperceptible note entered his tone.
"I fear I might have found one too fitting. "
Azul hummed. "So you came for a competent statue." She glanced up at him, not totally believing anything he said. "You don’t have to be fully honest with me. But give me an inkling. So I don’t accidentally stand in the way of your real plans."
"My plans were to secure a peaceful western border and a capable steward for my home. Those plans are now undergoing revision."
Her eye twitched. "What? So I am not a capable steward?"
She felt his hesitation to disagree. "I hope you know I can embroider and order a bunch of people around too. I’d rather not, obviously, but I am capable.
" What woman wasn’t taught how to manage a household?
Even if it was only a small village home, how hard could a ten thousand man tribe possibly be?
"Of course, of course, my Khatun is capable," he snickered. She did not appreciate his tone.
"I did promise, with the contract, I would do my part.
I know warlords have no allies," she continued, her voice softening as she tucked in what was left of the clean cloth.
"I plan to fulfil my promise. My brother will be king.
And in return, I will be your pillar, your khatun, for as long as our contract lasts.
If it comforts you, you can think of me as an ally. Until this is over."
She attempted to stand and prepare herself for the day when a hand grabbed her, forcing her to look back and dwell on a gaze she had yet to see.
"Why should I trust you?"
Was it hope? She did not know, since she had not seen such an emotion in a long time.
She wasn’t sure how to reply when he looked at her like that. Her heart felt strangely uncomfortable. "My Lord, I am Azul of the Borjigin,” her eyes crinkled. “I do not lose.”
That was all the answer she could give him. "Even a pact with a devil needs a thread of faith, or it’s just mutually assured destruction."
"Khatun, who is your chi?"
They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Azul finally replied, after a smile, one that entrapped his heart as it pulled across her lips. Was he questioning her abilities?
"My Lord." Her voice was soft. It sent a chill up his spine. "If I tell you I don’t know, would you believe me?"
He believed her.
If he kept her eyes on him, she wouldn’t notice the blood that stained the edge of his robes or the bodies that were dragged behind the shrine.
Ragnar’s eyes flickered to the top of the trees; eyes meeting those of a spy, he watched as the man withdrew, disappearing into the darkness.
“Then please stay here before you leave.”
His heart thumped.
If she asked so sweetly, how could he decline?