The Desert Spear

demanded. Jardir realized that their exchange had been in Krasian, and she had likely understood only a fraction of what was said.
    “Of course not,” Jardir said, switching back to her tongue. “They will be put to death.”
    “But they thanked you!” Leesha said.
    “For not castrating them and stripping them of the black,” Jardir said.
    Wonda spat on the ground. “Would serve the coresons right.”
    “No, it would not!” Leesha said. Jardir could tell she was still upset, but he had no idea why. Should he have killed them personally, in her sight? The greenlanders had different rules for their women, and he had no idea how they handled such matters as this.
    “What else do you require?” Jardir asked. “They did not succeed in violating or even harming the girl,” he nodded respectfully to Wonda, “so it is not expected that they should compensate her for her virginity.”
    “Ent a virgin, anyway,” Wonda said. Leesha looked at her sharply, but the girl only shrugged.
    “But it’s required they pay with their lives?” Leesha demanded.
    Jardir looked at her curiously. “They will die with honor. They will go naked into the night tomorrow, with only their spears to protect them.”
    Leesha’s eyes bulged. “That’s barbaric!”
    It was then Jardir understood. The greenland taboo was death. He bowed. “I had thought the punishment would please you, mistress. I can have them whipped, if you prefer.”
    Leesha looked to Wonda, who shrugged. She turned back to Jardir. “Very well. But we require to bear witness, and I to treat the men’s wounds when the punishment is complete.”
    Jardir was surprised at the request, but he hid it well, bowing deeply. The customs of the greenlanders were fascinating. “Of course, mistress. It will be done at sunset tomorrow, for all the
Sharum
to see and remember. I will administer the lashes myself.”
    Leesha nodded. “Thank you. That will suffice.”
    “This time,” Wonda growled, and Jardir smiled to see the fierceness in her eyes. Three Spears of the Deliverer it took just to hold her, and none of them able to do the deed! With further training, even
kai’Sharum
would fall before her. Looking at her, he came to a decision, one that he knew might well tear his army asunder, but Everam had chosen him to lead Sharak Ka, and he would lead as he saw fit.
    He gave the woman a warrior’s bow. “There will not be another, Wonda vah Flinn am’Cutter am’Hollow. On this, you have my word.”
    “Thank you,” Leesha said, laying a hand on his arm, and Jardir’s spirit leapt at the touch.

    There was a loud knocking on the door.
    “Whozzat?” Rojer cried, starting awake and looking about. His room was dark, though he could see cracks of light at the edges of the velvet curtains.
    The bed was a wonder unlike anything Rojer had felt since his time in Duke Rhinebeck’s brothel. The mattress and pillows were stuffed with goose feathers, and the sheets smooth and soft beneath a down comforter. It was like sleeping on a warm cloud. Hearing nothing more, Rojer was unable to resist its pull as his head fell back into the pillow’s embrace.
    The door opened, and Rojer cracked an eye as one of Abban’s wives, or perhaps one of his daughters—Rojer could never tell the difference—entered. She was clad as they all were in loose black robes that hid everything save her eyes, which were cast down in his presence.
    “You have a visitor, son of Jessum,” the woman said.
    She moved to throw back the heavy velvet curtains and Rojer groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes as light streamed in through the windows of his richly appointed bedroom. Leesha might have a whole floor of the giant manse, but Rojer had still been given a full wing of the second floor, more rooms than the entire inn his parents had run in Riverbridge. Elona had been furious to learn of the largesse the Krasians had heaped upon him, having only gotten a bedroom and sitting room herself, luxurious though they were.
    “What hour is it?” Rojer asked. He felt he couldn’t have slept more than an hour or two.
    “Just after sunrise,” the woman said.
    Rojer groaned again. He hadn’t slept an hour. “Tell whoever it is to come back later,” he said, flopping back into the mattress.
    The woman bowed deeply. “I cannot, master. Your visitor is the Damajah. You must see her at once.”
    Rojer sat bolt upright, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.

    The whole palace was astir by the time Rojer felt