Demon Child Ch. 15

"She is just a child then?"

"Girl children are promised to another house almost before they are born. They go to live in their new home when they reach five years. Girl children do not really belong to the house they are born into. They are marked with the brand of their new house when they marry. Boys are marked when they leave the women's quarters at the age of five. A man may claim his mother's family, especially if it is a very honored or powerful house. That is rare though. It has been many generations since a man has worn the mark of two houses upon his arm."

Aylanna turned and stared back at the wagon, thinking of the little girl hidden within, wondering if she was happy or afraid. It was becoming very clear that this society was ruled by a bewildering set of laws and customs. She wondered if she would ever learn or understand them all.

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Aylanna could not help but notice the change in the mood of the warriors as they crested a low hill and looked out across the land before them. One of them exclaimed, "Home, the very air smells sweeter here."

Another joked crudely, "You sniff for the venya of your wife."

There was a general laugh but the first gave back, "Better than sniffing at the gates of the temple, wondering if a priestess may take pity on a poor warrior."

That night many of the warriors were absent, choosing to ride ahead through the night to their own homes. Aylanna watched with large eyes as Jhardron took his leave, kicking his stallion into a faster pace, clearly eager to look upon the face of his son. Kwal'kek stayed behind, "My wife can wait another day. She will be as warm tomorrow as she is today."

In the morning Aylanna's heart rejoiced as the first year warriors that had gone ahead with the horse herd rode up, ululating the regimental war cry in greeting. Tim'kah reported to Kwal'kek, "Our Khan has sent us to escort you." Many of the fields on either side of the road were grazing lands. Herds of horses grazed sedately or lifted their heads and whinnied their horse greetings at the returning stallions.

It was late afternoon when they turned off the main highway and rolled up an equally straight, if not so wide, road to another carefully laid out community of square white buildings. As they drew closer, dozens of people poured out to greet their returning family members. Aylanna stared curiously as she looked upon Bak women for the first time. Their skin was the same ebon black as the warriors, but their hair bound up in complex braids. Many wore gold decorations in their hair and, to Aylanna's fascination, ornaments attached to their noses and ears. They wore ankle length flowing dresses of various light colors that came up over one shoulder, covering one breast and leaving the other exposed. Dozens of children, both boys and girls, shrilled their high pitched greetings and ran about, dodging between the legs of the stallions, reaching to touch the feet of the warriors, looking for their fathers. More than one young boy was pulled up to ride behind his father.

The entire scene was filled with chaos and excitement. Aylanna was so caught up in the cascade of emotion that she forgot and let her scarf fall away from her face, looking around with wide excited eyes. But then she felt the weight of eyes and she turned to meet the wide black eyes of a girl. Almost as tall as a grown woman, she was all angles and lines, at that awkward age between childhood and her first bloom of womanhood; she stared with wide, shocked eyes. Strangely there was no joy in her face; instead she seemed filled with rage and sadness. Remembering Jhardron's instruction to remain covered; Aylanna winced and quickly pulled her scarf over her face.

Soon the regiment seemed to dissolve and merge with the jovial crowd of family and friends. Proud young boys led the warrior's stallions away, leaving the wagons parked in the square in the center of the central square. Aylanna sat, hiding behind her scarf, wondering what was going to happen next when a tall old man on a magnificent stallion rode into the square, Jhardron walking by his side. Almost instantly the entire scene fell silent, each and every person, from warrior to small child standing, their hands held across their chests in obeisance. Uncertain of her place, Aylanna shrank smaller in the wagon trying to disappear.

From his vantage point he spoke, his voice warm and happy, "The Bak Tai Twisted Dagger has returned to us triumphant. They have traveled far and seen wondrous things. They have been triumphant in battle and brought back with them many treasures to present to our Aga Khan. They bring great honor to our house." His voice fell, "There is grief in our hearts for those who fell in honorable battle. Four families look out upon this reunion with nothing but ashes in their mouths and darkness in their hearts. Let them come forth."

A small group of subdued women, followed by a cluster of children, stepped forward. The crowd of people moved back, creating a circle around them. Aylanna recognized the form of the angular girl, this time holding a small squirming toddler.

The man on the horse looked down upon them, his eyes compassionate. "Your warriors have fulfilled their greatest duty, giving their lives for the glory of our people. You suffer great sadness but you also have gained honor. You have made a great sacrifice; take solace in the knowledge that their spirits ride with Jha'Mak'Tah." The old man's face was stoic and he held his fist against his chest, saluting the women and children. For an instant all was still, then the toddler in the girl's arms kicked to be free and protested loudly to be put down.

And once the silence was broken, a large, heavyset woman with silver braids moved to stand before the group of mourners and held her fist to her chest in an eloquent gesture of respect and honor. One by one, each and every person from warrior to child moved to stand and made the same gesture. Even toddlers and babies were held up and their small arms and hands held by their caretakers. Again Aylanna found herself huddling alone on the wagon, feeling completely separate from these people, an outsider, alien and perhaps not even human. The feeling that she was just an object, a trophy of war rose up inside her.

As the last people made their salute, the old man on the horse cleared his throat, "Our warriors will ride on to Bak Pan Amara tomorrow to present a great treasure to our Aga Khan. Tonight let us celebrate their achievement." He pulled at his stallion's reins and turned back, riding away from the square, further up the road. Aylanna stared after him.

When the wagon moved under her she briefly lost her balance and clutched at the folded tents she was sitting on. One of the first year warriors was at the head of the draught horse, leading him and the wagon he was pulling out of the village. They followed up the road and it wound around a low hill covered in a grove of carefully pruned fruit trees and down to another large compound. Almost as many square stone buildings as was in the original village surrounded another empty square. But this time the buildings varied in size and shape. A large house, larger than any she had seen so far, stood taller by half than any of the other buildings. A small lake shimmered in the afternoon sun behind it all.

The old man was there, his stallion being led away by a smaller brown skinned man of one of the northern races. The two wagons rolled up and stopped before a building that had a wide opening. About a dozen strange men approached and began to unload the wagon that Aylanna was not sitting on. Nervously looking around for a familiar face, she scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces, seeking out anyone she knew. To her relief she heard Kwal'kek's familiar brusque voice from inside the building, barking orders about what things went where. Aylanna slipped down off the wagon, keeping her hair and face covered with the scarf. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she flinched to feel a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around and she found herself staring up into the face of the old man who had made the speech to the people. He was frowning, his eyes meeting hers. She sensed no animosity, no intentions beyond curiosity and an overwhelming confidence.

Blinking, Aylanna tried to shrink back, nervously turning her eyes away, tugging at her scarf to cover her face even more, but his hand was firmly gripping her. His voice was firm, "And this is the demon my nephew has spoken of." He reached for the scarf and Aylanna found herself cowering back, fearfully trying to avoid his hand. Her voice shook, "Please, sir, my Khan has commanded me to keep the scarf, to cover my face."

His hand stilled but he did not release his grip upon her shoulder. "Your Khan? And who might that be?"

Aylanna was rapidly growing aware that almost all movement had ceased around them. The workers were standing, watching with open curiosity. She could still hear Kwal'kek inside the storage barn, barking out orders. She swallowed, "My Khan, Jhardron Khan Bak Tai Twisted Dagger."

The regal old man's lips twitched and Aylanna sensed a brief flash of humor, "Ah yes, my nephew. And you are wise to remember his commands. But you are here now. I am Jha'hamatla Khan Bak Lann Twisted Dagger, his uncle and head of House Twisted Dagger long before your Khan was a cub playing around my ankles. Here you must obey my commands. And I am commanding you to reveal yourself to me. I will not ask twice." There was an implacable hint of steel in the last sentence.

Aylanna quickly unwound the scarf and stood tall, the only sign of her nervous fear was the way she was twisting the blue fabric around and around her fist. Her voice was soft and controlled, "This ha'akh apologizes. She did not mean any disrespect."

"Well they have managed to teach you some amount of good manners." He gazed at her with open interest, "A demon indeed, your appearance in Bak Pan Amara will create quite a stir. My nephew was wise to keep you hidden. But here, here in the heart of House Twisted Dagger, you do not need to wear the scarf. The few spies that speak of your strange appearance will only fire the imaginations of the plotters in court."

Aylanna listened to his words, trying to understand his intentions. His mention of spies confused her and she looked around the square nervously. It was crowded with people, all rushing about, busy with some duty or another. When the old man spoke with another and turned to leave her standing there beside the wagon Aylanna spoke up, "Please, sir, I... I don't know where I am supposed to go."

The old Khan, paused and looked back at her, "Stay where you are. Someone will come for you soon."

Aylanna stood still, her eyes avoiding the curious stares of the workers. For the first time she noticed that Xin'sha, her little red mare that had followed beside her wagon like a foal follows its mother had disappeared. She wondered who had taken her. There was no way that the little horse would have left her side voluntarily. She watched as the workers unloaded the heavy tents from the wagon. It seemed like most of the servants were either from the smaller, lighter skinned northern races but here and there was a taller, darker individual that seemed neither one nor the other. Aylanna wondered if these were the children of ha'akhs. Her thoughts spun back to Tollarra and she wondered how the baby faired and if it would be like these men, neither one thing nor another.

A voice penetrated her thoughts, "Ha'akh, come with me."

A mature woman only a few inches shorter than her stood looking at her impatiently. This woman was clearly of the mixed races, her skin a rich brown, her hair, streaked with white braided in the fashion of the Bak women but she wore a simple shift of creamy white fabric that reached her feet. The woman cleared her throat and spoke again, "Come along, the day grows short and we have much to do." Aylanna nodded uncertainly and stepped forward.

The strange woman turned and hurried off. Aylanna had to trot a few steps to catch up. In just a few minutes they were at the door of a building next to the main house and the woman disappeared within. Aylanna hesitated at the door, blinking trying to adjust her vision to the dim interior. Again the woman spoke, "Ha'akh, come along. I have orders to bathe you and get you some appropriate clothing."

The building smelled of moisture and there was the distinctive sound of falling water. Aylanna stepped inside and stared at the strange spectacle of a stream of water pouring forth from the mouth of a carved face mounted on the wall. The water arched out and fell into a large square pool cut right into the rock of the floor. The woman was muttering to herself, "As if I don't have enough to do with the feast to see to, now our father sends me on this foolish errand."

Aylanna looked around in wonder, her voice bemused, "Our father?"

"The old Khan, the head of the house, it is common for us to refer to him as our father. He is the father of the house, patriarch. Though, when you speak to him, you should call him sir or khan. Only a child of his loins has the right to call him father to his face. Enough of this talk. Take off those dirty things."

Aylanna nodded, "And if I may ask, what should I call you?"

The woman spoke as she filled a basin with water, "I am Sindalla lann'akh Twisted Dagger. You may call me Sin or Sindalla. Do you have a name ha'akh?"

"Aylanna."

"Lucky one, interesting name, not one I have heard before." The woman turned and looked at Aylanna standing nude, her pale skin glowing in the dim light of the bathing house. Her eyes widened, "You are truly strange looking, pale, like the white mares promised to the temple. Are all demons colored so?"

Remembering Jhardron's words of caution to keep her magic secret, Aylanna shrugged, "I do not know."

Sindalla poured some sweet smelling oil into the basin and dipped a brush into the water. She handed the brush to Aylanna, "Wash yourself with this." Obediently Aylanna took the brush and began to rub it across her skin. To her surprise it was soft and the oil began to work into lather, the smell of lavender and something sharper filled her nostrils. Sindalla stepped around behind her and poured some more of the oil into her hair and began to work it in, carefully inspecting Aylanna's head. "At least you are not infested with lice. So many of the little savages the warriors bring back are crawling with the things." When Sindalla said the word savages, her tone was condescending. Aylanna tensed but said nothing.

Sindalla's hands were efficient, even a little rough as she scrubbed at Aylanna's scalp. "And such strange hair, you are a strange little creature indeed." Aylanna winced and did not respond, standing still, shivering a little as the air chilled her wet skin. She was rapidly starting to dislike this woman who seemed to care little about her feelings. Sindalla filled the basin with fresh water and poured it over Aylanna's head, rinsing her thoroughly. The water was cold and Aylanna stood shivering, her arms wrapped around her chest. Sindalla put down the basin and spoke curtly, "Come along."

Aylanna went to her discarded dress and began to pull it on. Sindalla's voice was sharp, "What are you doing?"

Aylanna looked at her with puzzled eyes. "Um, getting dressed?"

"Not in those filthy, savage clothes. They will not do at all. They are most likely infested. I will have the bath house attendant burn them." She picked up a long white garment much like the one she was wearing and held it out."

For the first time a flash of anger rose up in Aylanna. She scooped up the layered grasslands dress that Tollarra had helped her make. Her eyes narrowed, "No."

Sindalla paused, her eyes surprised, "Do not be ridiculous. I do not have time for this foolishness. Put those down and put this on."

Again Aylanna stood her ground, "No, these are mine. I will not let you burn them up."

Sindalla stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger, "It is not for you to decide what I will do or not do. I am Sindalla Lann'akh, a respected house servant of long standing. You are only a ha'akh, a dirty little savage for the warriors to use." Her hand came up as if to grab at the dress or perhaps even strike at the young stranger that had the temerity to defy her.

Aylanna's hand came up as well; her voice was a deadly hiss, "Do not touch me. I may be just ha'akh, a dirty savage in your world. But I am also Aylanna, a demon's child. Do not anger me. You will regret it. I will keep this dress and you will allow it." Then her voice lowered to a soft growl, "Sindalla, this is all I own, it is filled with memories. I will wear your clothing, but I will keep this dress." Her voice softened marginally, "It might be in need a good washing, but I promise that there are no little beasts living in it. I may be a strange looking little savage, but I am a clean one when travel and my duties allow it."

The darker skinned woman stood staring at her with measuring eyes, the anger in her slowly subsiding to a simmering resentment, "I underestimated you, ha'akh. You have spirit. If the dress is so important to you, keep it. But we waste time. I have much more important things to do than battle with a savage little... what did you say you were? ...a demon's child?" Again her voice was slightly condescending. "So come along with me. I must help with overseeing the serving of food. The whole village will be here for the warrior's homecoming feast."

Aylanna slipped the white dress over her head and still holding her old clothing clutched to her chest, Aylanna followed Sindalla out of the bathhouse and into another strange square building. Sindalla led her to a small cubical, almost a stall, pointing at a mat on the floor, "This will be your sleeping place tonight. You can leave your precious dress here."

Aylanna nodded putting her bundle down and she forced her face to a calm, neutral expression, "Thank you."

"Wait here." She did not know how long she stood there, waiting, looking curiously around the strange room. The room was divided into about twenty little cubicles, divided from one another by low wooden walls. Most of the cubicles were empty, but a few had some clothing hanging from hooks. Aylanna turned and pulled her comb from one of the pockets of her Grasslands dress. She pulled the teeth through her tangled curls. As it dried, her hair was amazingly slick and soft, cleaner than she had ever felt before. She shook her head and tossed her hair back. Shining, soft and light, it danced in a soft cloud around her face like a living thing.

Sindalla walked in, wiping her hands on a cloth, looking at Aylanna critically. She sniffed, "There is no time to train you to help with anything. Come with me, we will find a place for you to sit out of the way." In the short time she had waited the square had been transformed, long tables and benches had been set up. Her heart lurched when she saw Jhardron standing talking to the older man. For an instant she thought to rush up to him, to find something familiar in the chaos of strangers, but she pressed her lips together and followed the woman who had commanded her to follow. As she stepped out of the square, she sensed his eyes on her for just an instant and blinked back tears.

She was still blinking away tears, when they entered into a busy kitchen. The rich smells of simmering sauces, roasting meats and baking grains made her mouth fill with saliva. Sindalla pointed at a marginally quiet corner and grunted, "Try to stay out of the way."

Aylanna nodded, not sure if she was offended by the busy woman's dismissal or grateful to be left alone. She stood watching as at least a dozen men and women, wearing similar white tunics and dresses rapidly began to assemble large dishes of food. Complicated layers of grains, vegetables, simmered meats and sauces filled bowls, whole roasted carcasses of goats, improbably large birds, and some other kind of animal that Aylanna had never seen before were stuffed with a mixture of grains and spices. Nearby an old woman mixed some powder with water and dropped handfuls of the thick mixture into a large pot of boiling oil. Each time the moist dough fell into the oil, it would hiss and bubble, then swell and bob to the top, golden brown and the woman would lift it out with a ladle and drop it on a platter already laden with warm brown balls. Aylanna watched fascinated and the old woman met her eyes and smiled a toothless grin. Deftly she picked up one of the unfamiliar objects and tossed it to Aylanna.