Free Bells of the Kingdom (Children of the Desert Book 3) by Leona Wisoker Page A

the soap from her hand.
    Anada settled back against the other side of the tub and watched him, not even pretending to avert her gaze, as he began scrubbing himself.
    “This girl,” she said after a moment. “She is staying here, I understand? And you are departing.”
    “Yeah.” He didn’t look at her.
    “This girl,” she said, with the same lack of inflection as before, “is pregnant. Is this your child she carries?”
    He snapped a quick glance at her face, startled.
    “No,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “I see. Did you kill the father of her child?”
    He stared, his mouth open in stunned protest of that assumption.
    “Again, no,” she said before he could answer, and nodded slowly. “With a prayer that you find no offense in the words: It’s best you’re leaving, ha’inn. The north has formed you, body and soul. It would be many years before you understood the first tenth of our ways, and they would be hard years, without peace.”
    “Why aren’t you afraid?” he blurted, unable to come up with any other coherent response. “You all—you’re servants, to desert lords— and, and—” He made a vague gesture with the hand not holding the soap; water sprayed across her face, but the closest she came to flinching was to shut her eyes. “You’re not even the least bit nervous about saying —anything. You act like—like you’re equal, if not superior, to everyone here. How can you not be scared?”
    He stopped, breathing hard and feeling more than a little foolish. Anada waited a moment, as though to see if he had anything else to say, then said, “Ha’inn— Idisio—in the southlands—” She paused, frowning a little, then went on, more carefully, “Scratha Family, and most other desert Families, believe that even the lowest servant enters into a sacred covenant with their chosen master. And I am not a kitchen sweeper; I am kathain. I have considerable status of my own. Within the bounds of this sacred moment, in this place, I am your equal. This service cannot properly work any other way: would become nothing more than dishonorable slavery and whoring.”
    Movement at the entrance to the baths drew Idisio’s attention away from trying to figure that one out. Lord Ondio of F’Heing strode into the room. He nodded briefly, seeing Idisio, then turned his attention to the young man approaching him.
    “Two,” Ondio said curtly, “one at a time. Female. I’ll have company later; they’ll want their own. I don’t share.”
    The young man nodded and led the desert lord to one of the larger tubs.
    Idisio choked back his initial outrage and looked at Anada. Her placid expression was unruffled. “He is bound by the customs of his host to be rather more restrained than he would be with his own kathain,” she murmured. “He will do no lasting harm.”
    Idisio’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious?”
    “Yes.”
    “He’s going to—just —here? In front of—dear gods. I can’t—” Idisio started to stand, then glanced down and hastily sank under the concealing line of soap film once more.
    Anada’s mouth twitched. “I could help with that, ha’inn,” she said. “Idisio. If you wish.”
    Idisio let out a vaguely strangled sound. A woman emerged from a side room, carrying a wooden tray of bathing supplies. Her dark hair was shorn back as tightly as Anada’s, her naked body rather leaner and less rounded. She walked steadily, gaze unwavering, towards the tub Lord Ondio had climbed into.
    Idisio shut his eyes. He couldn’t help wondering if Deiq had known this would happen; it seemed entirely likely. Manipulative bastard.
    “Are my clothes clean yet?” he said through his teeth.
    “That will take some considerable time,” Anada said. He could hear the laughter in her voice. “We can offer you a robe, of course, or a waist-wrap—but neither of those do a very good job of, ah, concealment for certain matters. And they are very undignified garb for a long walk across the