Part 25 (1/2)
He had just seen three men castrated. How could his body react this way?
It took forever to reach the beach. His arms ached from clinging to the frame of the litter. His shoulders ached from the unnatural positions he'd a.s.sumed to keep from brus.h.i.+ng against her. And his loins ached from the sensations flooding his body.
When the bearers halted, he crawled out of the litter. Mercifully, the bulky folds of the khirta hid any evidence of his arousal.
The Zheron waved the bearers off and they retreated down the beach. To give himself a moment to recover, Keirith walked to the edge of the water. The curve of the sh.o.r.eline screened them from the city. Only the sound of the waves and the cries of the sea birds disturbed the restful silence. After the noise and the crowds in the Plaza of Justice, it seemed a gift from the G.o.ds.
”Would you like to swim?” Hircha asked. ”The sea's very warm.”
”Nay. Thank you.”
She reached down to pull her shapeless gown over her head and he quickly turned away. He heard a squeal and glanced back to find her plunging into the water. Her pale bottom flashed as she dove beneath a wave. Moments later, she bobbed back up, her hair streaming over her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
”Come in,” she called. ”It's wonderful.”
Shaking his head, Keirith backed away. ”I'm fine. Really. I'll just sit over there. In the shade.”
”Suit yourself.”
Resolutely, he walked toward a tumble of boulders and sat down facing the mountain. Even in the shade, the sand was almost too hot for comfort. The Zheron strolled over to him. ”Don't you want to join her?”
”Thank you, no. This is good. Very less sun.”
”You can't swim?”
”Yes. But no swim today. Thank you.”
The Zheron flung himself onto the sand, folded his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. ”This is is good. It's never peaceful at the palace.” good. It's never peaceful at the palace.”
”Yes. Thank you for to bring me.”
”Thank you for bringing me,” the Zheron corrected.
Dutifully, Keirith repeated the sentence.
”You learn quickly.”
”Thank you. I try hard.”
The Zheron propped himself up on his elbow and studied him for so long that Keirith asked, ”Please? Something is wrong?” The speech that followed was largely incomprehensible, but it seemed he was apologizing for something. ”Forgive me. I do not understand.”
The Zheron frowned, clearly frustrated. Then he leaped to his feet and shouted to Hircha.
Keirith kept his gaze on the sand as she approached. The Zheron tossed her gown to her and the two of them chatted easily while she dressed. She perched on one of the rocks, her damp legs next to his cheek, and wrung the water out of her hair. ”How may I serve you, my lord?”
The Zheron faced him, his expression earnest, and delivered a short speech.
”The Zheron says I am to translate exactly, not merely give you the essence of his words. He wishes me to do this because he wants to be sure you understand.”
Keirith nodded.
”Kheridh. The Pajhit has kept you very close. As is his right. But now that we're alone, I wish to say . . . I wanted you to know I'm sorry for the way I had to speak to you that first day. I know it was humiliating for you. I was shamed by it, too. I don't hold a grudge against you for attacking my spirit. I would have done the same had a man spoken thus. And I hope you hold none against me for obeying the Pajhit's wishes.”
Uncertain how to respond, Keirith nodded again.
”Will you clasp arms on it?”
”What does that mean?” he asked Hircha. ”Clasping arms?”
”It's a gesture of agreement. Of friends.h.i.+p.”
Keirith hesitated, searching the man's face for some hint of what lay behind the earnest expression. The Zheron spoke so impatiently that Hircha could barely keep up with him.
”You hesitate to accept my friends.h.i.+p. I understand. It's just . . .” Hircha perfectly captured the impotent wave of his hand. ”I'm not used to being hated. Since I was a boy, everyone has always liked me. I like . . . being liked. I suppose that's silly and weak, but . . . never mind. This is beneath us. I shouldn't have said anything. Forgive me. I hope you enjoy this time away from the palace. I'll go back now so I don't spoil it for you.”
The Zheron rose. Keirith knew enough of palace protocol to recognize his bow as one offered to an equal. As the Zheron spun away, shouting for the bearers, he called out, ”Wait.”
The Zheron slowly turned.
”I did hate you.” When Hircha hesitated, he said, ”Tell him.”
A grimace twisted the handsome features, but was quickly banished.
”I wanted to kill you. But you stopped me. How did you do that?”
”That's just a trick. Something every Zhiisto learns.”
”Can you teach me this trick? Without entering my spirit?”
The Zheron frowned, considering. ”We've never done it that way. It would be harder-for both of us. But it might be possible. It would mean that much to you?”
Keirith nodded.
”The Pajhit may not like it-you coming to me instead of him for instruction. I'll have to consider the best way to approach him. Or escape his notice. When I have, I'll tell Hircha when we can meet.”
”Thank you.” After a moment's hesitation, he added, ”I'm not sure I can offer friends.h.i.+p, but I can dispense with hatred.”
The Zheron broke into a great smile when Hircha translated. Keirith found his forearms seized in a strong grip.
”Friends.h.i.+ps aren't built in a day, but we've made a good start.” The Zheron stepped back, his smile fading. ”And now I have to return to the palace. It's a great honor to be Zheron, but it's not much fun. You and Hircha stay. Not too long-the sun will roast those fair skins. Come back during the midday sezhta. That way, you can sneak into the palace while everyone's resting. If you're caught . . . well, tell them it was my doing. But try not to get caught. Please. The Pajhit will have my hide if he finds out.”
Shaking his head at his folly, he waved away the second group of bearers and climbed into his litter. A hand shot through the curtains to wave farewell.
”That was interesting,” Hircha said after a long silence. ”He's always so . . . wait. I want to go back in the water. We can talk after that.”
Her gown slapped against his neck. Keirith pulled it off, folded it neatly, and laid it on a rock. Then he sank down on the sand, wondering what had possessed him to tell the Zheron he'd wanted to kill him.