Free Idol of Blood by Jane Kindred Page A

wise.” He cleared his throat, at last attempting to be serious. “I have intended to make amendments to the statutes concerning marriage and the livelihood of women. I confess I had placed those changes at a low priority. As for my Councils, I don’t disbelieve that women are as intelligent and levelheaded as men, but it would be difficult to introduce that element. These customs are as old as the Meer.”
    â€œI doubt that,” said Ahr. “The Meer include women.” Emotion flickered on his face and then was gone. “Regardless, I think custom can be changed. You’ve done it with other foolish customs.”
    â€œThere has been so much resistance to the dismantling of caste. I don’t think Rhyman is ready for it.”
    â€œThen let us vote,” said Ahr emphatically. “You’ve given the men of Rhyman that opportunity. To deny it to women is unconscionable.”
    â€œYou mean let them vote,” said Merit. “You said ‘us’.”
    â€œUs! Them! I tell you, Merit, sometimes I don’t know what I am—and I don’t care. But I am very serious about this, and I insist you treat it with the same respect. And treat me with respect,” he added. “Whether you think of me as woman or man. There should be no difference.”
    Merit was sober. “I respect you more than anyone else I know. Save one. I’ll give your proposal some thought—and I mean serious examination. You have my word.” Ahr’s stance relaxed, and Merit surveyed the table. They’d done all they could to this meal. Merit sighed, not unhappily.
    As they stood and retreated through the arch, a servant materializing to clear their leavings as though conjured, he sighed again with more regret. “You know, it would be lovely to have a woman again when it comes to that,” he mused as their footsteps resounded across the great hall against the gemstone tile. He stopped for a moment. “Am I insulting you?”
    Ahr laughed. “I can’t take exception to your human needs, meneut .” He paused in the archway toward his quarters, studying Merit with curiosity. “When was the last?”
    Merit attempted a smile, unable to keep the sorrow out of it. “It was my wife.”
    â€œOh…Merit. I never even thought—”
    Merit waved away Ahr’s concern. “I didn’t see her often. But Ra provided for her well, and she wasn’t unhappy. I think, in fact, she may have taken other lovers. I didn’t question her. I had my own more devoted love.” He managed a more wistful smile. “But I did love her. She died six years ago as a result of a virulent fever. I’d given it to her when I fell ill that autumn—you remember—and it had weakened her heart.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Ahr squeezed Merit’s shoulder, and then paused before turning away. “That autumn?” he reflected. “I don’t remember what you mean. When were you ill?”
    â€œWell, of course you remember,” Merit reproached him. “After all, it was why—” Merit stopped abruptly, his face draining of blood as he saw that Ahr was staring at him, not understanding.
    Ahr frowned at Merit’s sudden halt. “It was why, what?”
    â€œDid you really not know?” Merit’s heart battered his chest. “ Ai , Ahr, I don’t think I should speak of this to you. I don’t want to burden you more.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Ahr demanded. “How would this burden me?” Though Merit shook his head, Ahr was adamant. “Don’t keep things from me, Merit. I insist that you explain.”
    Merit swallowed, not wanting to speak. “That autumn,” he said at last. “When you were pregnant with Ra’s child—before we knew.”
    â€œWhen he—” Ahr faltered. “When he stopped asking for me.” Merit nodded, letting Ahr make