she said, feeling his warmth inside her. “You’re thinking of your dead wife.”
“No, you’re thinking of my dead wife.”
“My dead husband was a very jealous man. If he were alive and found me here with you, he would cut off your…head.”
“I’m glad, then, that he is not here to cut off my…head.”
Laughing, she tugged at the curly hair between his legs.
“Woman,” he shouted, laughing. “you don’t need to hurt me. I am quite ready to do your will. But you are talking at the most inopportune time. Do you always talk so much?”
She intertwined her finger in his. “Everyone accuses me of talking too much.”
“Well, we must change that.”
“The Ever-Present One knows I cannot change my talkativeness. Many have tried.”
“You believe in The Silent One?” His words almost pitied her.
The Silent One. That’s their name for the Ever-Present One. She saw his pity, pitied him his unbelief. “I have heard you in the Wheel Clan are distant from the Ever-Present One, that you don’t believe in the Unfleshed Ones either.”
“Samat? And spirits who roam the world seeking to live in human bodies? No, I do not believe.”
“Tender Friend,” she began, but his kiss cut off her words. How warm his lips!
He touched her breasts, pressing her nipples with his thumbs. “Forgive me. I didn’t aim to mock. Of late, I always seem to mock those I love. It’s only…my people don’t think about the Silent One. Not generally. Bleeding, on the edge of a dagger, perhaps, but not generally. The Ever-Present One has always been silent to me. The Silent One was not silent to my father, but his beliefs were his own. Mine are mine. His belief made him weak at times, cruel at others.”
“He has been praised by many.”
Nahas looked past her toward the treetops. “Only the strong praised him.”
“Is it true that you kill your imperfect male children? We Peacock people would rather live crowded in a longhouse or add new rooms rather…than deprive a child of life. We love all children, no matter how sickly they are.”
“It’s a necessity. We have had to survive. And yet, I am not as cruel as my father was.”
He lay on the grass, stroking her breasts, and Ktwala—naturally curious and not one to stop talking once she started asked, “Would your Father have spared your son’s life?”
“Ktwala, how bold you are!” Nahas stared at her in wide-eyed admiration. “No, my father would not have spared my sons’ lives.”
“Sons?” she asked. “How many damaged sons have you sired?”
Nahas laughed. “One day I shall tell you, but now…to the joyful task at hand.”
“How happy life must be for you, Nahas! Visiting women from region to region, and not committing your love to any!”
“Ktwala, I have no women waiting for me anywhere.” He pulled her close, bent her toward him. “Indeed, I am lying here, your servant, waiting for you. And only you.”
CHAPTER 10
SUDDEN LOVE
The Wheel Clan boys carried torches, the Iden children sang. Inside the cave, the loamy ground under Maharai’s feet unsettled her. She feared the dark and the dark monsters that croaked, creaked, and clicked under the muddy water. Raising Eala higher up on her shoulder, she resolved to show no fear. The king’s son, Netophah, walked at her side. She had not liked him at first. She had had to tune her ears to his mangling of her language, but he had spoken so sweetly to her, asking her to be “compassionate” toward him and to speak slowly, and his eyes had been so gentle as they walked together. She no longer believed the Wheel Clan wanted to steal either herself or her sisters.
“We play here,” he said. “Here and elsewhere. You see?”
“I can see better now, yes.” She drew out the words, spoke the same thought again in different words, that he might understand her. “My eyes can see in the dark now.”
Something slimy crept near her sandals. The shadows and laughter of the Wheel Clan and Iden children moved and echoed along the walls.
“Stay here.” Netophah squeezed her hand. “I go, I return.” He disappeared further into the cavern before she could protest.
Maharai stroked the whimpering child’s back and swayed slowly, comforting it. In the darkness, she saw Netophah’s figure—already, she recognized it—returning, carrying two poles: One pole ended with a knife-like hook, the other attached to a net.
“The net catch small fish,” he said when he reached her. “The hook large ones.” He drew his face closer to Eala’s. “Do you want nursing, Eala? Milk? Maharai to nurse you?”
Unsure if Netophah had intentionally joked or had used the wrong word, Maharai said, “I can’t nurse her.”
“I know.” He laughed, then touched her breasts. “They very tiny breasts.”
She moved the child upward to block his arm. Still, she liked him. “They’ll grow when I get bigger.” A defense, a promise.
He moved his mouth closer to hers. “Promise? No, no, they won’t grow. Always the same size.”
She turned the conversation from her breasts. “You gave my brothers only nets. No hooks?”
“Girlie,” Netophah attempted to touch her breast again. Again, she quickly blocked him. “Hooks dangerous,” he said. “Father say keep Iden brothers safe. Our new allies not accidental pierce selves, each other. Why cannot I you touch you? I see you want.”
She did not say that she had allowed Gidea’s hateful son to touch her because he had bullied her often, did not say he had opened his trousers before her and forced her to kneel before him and…“Mother says men should not touch me there.”
“I not a man.” He kissed her cheek and his hand traced a gentle line along her neck. “We same age.”
She liked his arrogance, liked him because he was handsome and his body slender and well-built and because he liked her. She wondered if she should allow him to kiss her—just once. It would be nice to be kissed by one who was handsome and young and who loved her. But Little Eala was in her arms and it would all be so clumsy. Yet she allowed it. She leaned toward him and his lips touched hers. Her body trembled. Warmth course through her veins. She felt a throbbing in her vagina. Only joy, and none of the fear and disgust she often felt when Gidea’s son forced her to suck and suck. She didn’t feel the passing of the time, such joy she had with Netophah.
* * * *
Two sharp whistles pierced the quiet fields. Voices called out to Nahas from the bottom of the hill. Nahas raised himself onto his elbow and looked toward the Iden longhouse. His demeanor grew serious, distant as if he suddenly remembered he was a king. Ktwala sat up, followed
