The Desert Spear

down upon them.
    “I cast the
alagai hora
before bringing you the blacks,” she said. “If you sleep among the
jiwah’Sharum,
one of them will kill you.”
    Jardir’s eyes widened. Such a thing was unheard of. “Why?” he asked.
    “The bones give us no ‘why,’ son of Hoshkamin,” the
dama’ting
said. “They tell what is, and what may be. Perhaps a lover of Hasik will seek revenge, or some woman with a blood feud with your family.” She shrugged. “But sleep among the
jiwah’Sharum
at your peril.”
    “So I am never to know a woman?” Jardir asked. “What kind of life is that for a man?”
    “Don’t exaggerate,” the
dama’ting
said. “You may still take wives. I will cast the bones to find ones suitable for you.”
    “Why would you do this?” Jardir asked.
    “My reasons are my own,” the
dama’ting
said.
    “And the price?” Jardir asked. The tales in the Evejah always spoke of a hidden price for those who would use
hora
magic for more than
sharak.
    “Ah,” the
dama’ting
said. “No longer so innocent as you seem. That is good. The price is that you take me to wife.”
    Jardir froze. His face went cold. Take her as his wife? Unthinkable. She terrified him.
    “I did not know
dama’ting
could marry,” he said, fumbling for time as his mind reeled.
    “We can, when we wish it,” she said. “The first
dama’ting
were the Deliverer’s wives.”
    Jardir looked at her again, the thick white robes hiding every contour and curve of her body. Her headwrap covered every hair, and the opaque veil was drawn high over her nose, muffling even her voice. Only her eyes could be seen, bright and full of zeal. There was something familiar about them, but he could not even guess at her age, much less her beauty. Was she a virgin? Of good family? There was no way to know.
Dama’ting
were taken from their mothers early and raised in secret.
    “It is a man’s right to see a woman’s face before he agrees to marry her,” he said.
    “Not this time,” the
dama’ting
said. “It matters not if my beauty moves you, or if my womb is fertile. Your future swirls with hidden knives. I will be your
Jiwah Ka,
or you will spend your days looking for them without my foretellings to aid you.”
    Jiwah Ka.
She didn’t just want to marry him, she wanted to be first among his wives. A
Jiwah Ka
had the right to vet and refuse any
Jiwah Sen,
subsequent wives, all of whom would be subservient to her. She would have absolute control of his household and children, second only to him, and Jardir was not fool enough to think she didn’t intend to control him as well.
    But could he afford to refuse? He feared no challenger face-to-face, but war was deception, as Khevat had taught him, and not all men fought their enemies with spear and fist. A poisoned drink, or blade in the back, and he could still go to Everam with little glory to buy his way into Heaven, and none to spare his mother and sisters.
    And Sharak Ka was coming.
    “You ask that I give everything to you,” he said thickly, his mouth gone dry.
    The
dama’ting
shook her head. “I leave you
sharak,
” she said. “That is all a
Sharum
need concern himself with.”
    Jardir stared at her for a long time. Finally, he nodded his assent.

    The
dama’ting
wasted no time once the agreement was made. Before a week was through, Jardir found himself before Dama Khevat, watching as she made her vows.
    Jardir looked into the
dama’ting
‘s eyes. Who was she? Was she older than his mother? Young enough to give him sons? What would he find when they retired to the marriage bed?
    “I offer you myself in marriage in accordance with the instructions of the Evejah,” she said, “as set down by Kaji, Spear of Everam, who sits at the foot of Everam’s table until he is reborn in the time of Sharak Ka. I pledge, with honesty and in sincerity, to be for you an obedient and faithful wife.”
    Does she mean those words,
Jardir wondered,
or is this just a new way to control my life, now that I wear the black?
    Khevat turned to him. Jardir started, fumbling for his vow. “I swear before Everam,” he said, forcing the words out, “Creator of all that is, and before Kaji, the Shar’Dama Ka, to take you into my home, and to be a fair and tolerant husband.”
    “Do you accept this
dama’ting
as your
Jiwah Ka
?” Khevat asked, and something in his tone reminded Jardir of the
dama’s
words when Jardir first asked him to perform the ceremony.
    Are you sure you wish