The Desert Spear

since Inevera had arranged marriages between them and Jardir’s sisters. Imisandre, Hoshvah, and Hanya had been in rags when Jardir left Sharik Hora three years ago, but now they were
Jiwah Ka
to his most trusted lieutenants, and had borne nephews and nieces to strengthen those loyalties.
    “Our orders?” Shanjat asked.
    “Tenth layer,” Jardir said.
    Hasik spat in the dust. “The Sharum Ka insults you!”
    “Calm yourself, Hasik,” Jardir said softly, and the big warrior immediately quieted. “Embrace the insult and it will pass through you, allowing you to see Everam’s path.”
    Hasik nodded, falling in behind Jardir as he strode away from the palace. Hasik had returned from the
dama’ting
pavilion a changed man three years ago. He was still one of the Kaji’s fiercest warriors, but like a wolf brought to heel, he had given his loyalty fully to Jardir—the only way to preserve his honor after the humiliating defeat.
    “The Sharum Ka fears you,” Ashan advised. “As he should. If you continue to gather all the glory, the Andrah may tire of having a weak old man commanding his forces and allow you to challenge him to single combat.”
    “And seconds after he shouts ‘begin,’ we will have a new First Warrior,” Shanjat said.
    “That isn’t going to happen,” Jardir said. “The Andrah and Sharum Ka are friends from of old. The Andrah will not betray his loyal servant even if the
Damaji
themselves demand it.”
    “So what do we do?” Hasik asked.
    “You go home to my sister and thank her for the meal she has no doubt prepared you,” Jardir said. “And when night falls, we go to the tenth layer and pray that Everam sends us
alagai
to show the sun.”

    As always, Inevera was waiting for him when he reached his quarters in the Kaji palace. Her robe was lowered to uncover the breast where his daughter Anjha suckled. Jardir’s sons, Jayan and Asome, clung to her robes, young and strong.
    Jardir knelt and spread his arms, and the boys fell into them, laughing as he lifted them high. He set them back down, and they ran back to their mother. The sight of his sons pricked at his serenity for a moment before he could embrace the feeling. It wasn’t just his reputation the Sharum Ka sullied. It was theirs, as well.
    “Something troubles you, my husband?” Inevera asked.
    “It is nothing,” Jardir said, but Inevera clicked her tongue at him.
    “I am your
Jiwah Ka,
” she said. “You need not embrace your feelings with me.”
    Jardir looked at her and let the tight lashes of his control ease.
    “The Sharum Ka sends me to the tenth layer tonight,” he spat. “How many warriors will he lose while his best unit guards an empty layer?”
    “It is a good sign, husband,” Inevera said. “It means the Sharum Ka fears you and your ambitions.”
    “What good is that,” Jardir said, “if he robs me of every future glory?”
    “He cannot be allowed to do that,” Inevera agreed. “You must find glory in the Maze now more than ever. The bones tell me the First Warrior is not long for this world. Your glory must outshine all others when he goes to Everam, if you are to take his place.”
    “How am I to do that waving my spear at empty air?” Jardir growled.
    Inevera shrugged. “
Sharak
is yours. You must find a way.”
    Jardir grunted, nodding. She was right, of course. There were some things even a
dama’ting
could not advise upon.
    “The sun will not set for hours,” Inevera advised. “A bout of lovemaking and a short sleep will clear your head.”
    Jardir smiled and went to her. “I will call my mother to take the children.”
    But Inevera shook her head, stepping away from his reaching arms. “Not me. The bones say Everalia is ripe. If you take her from behind with great force, she will bear you a strong son.”
    Jardir scowled. Everalia was his third wife. Inevera hadn’t even bothered to show her to him before they were betrothed, saying the
Jiwah Sen
was selected for her breeder’s hips and the fortune the
alagai hora
cast, not her beauty.
    “Always the bones!” Jardir snapped. “For once I would bed the wife I choose!”
    Inevera shrugged. “Take Thalaja if you prefer,” she said, referring to his more beautiful second wife. “She is ripe as well. I simply thought you would prefer a son to another daughter.”
    Jardir gritted his teeth. She was the one he wanted, but as Khevat had warned, wife or no, Inevera was
dama’ting,
and he could not simply take her the way he