Free The Diviner by Melanie Rawn Page B

carved bone.
    â€œI wish to know,” Akkil Akkem Akkim Akkar intoned, “how did this man enter the dawa’an sheymma with this in his possession? How did a man who is not sick feign illness so well as to fool the most accomplished of the Challi Dawa’an? How did this man outrage our tents by attempting the life of my friend Azzad? And how,” he finished harshly, “did a Geysh Dushann come into the camp of the Shagara undetected?”
    â€œWell?” Meryem asked, slapping the agonized face below her. “Speak!” As his lips drew back in a ghastly grin, she slapped him again. “Speak, and I promise I’ll kill you quickly.” When there was no response, she leaned closer and said with gentle ferocity, “I can make you live. But you will never again walk, never again have strength in your hands, never again enjoy a woman. Speak and die quickly—or stay silent and live to be very, very old.”
    Azzad gulped, and blinked, and was very, very glad Abb Shagara liked him.
    â€œThis al-Ma’aliq—his death is my honor,” the man rasped. “He lives. I have no honor. Kill me.”
    â€œWhy must he die for your honor?” Abb Shagara asked.
    â€œThe Sheyqa our sister—” He coughed, and the spasm widened his eyes with fresh agony.
    â€œI know the rest,” Azzad said. “I had better tell you. Sheyqa Nizzira of Rimmal Madar obliterated all my family in a single night. There was a banquet at her palace. The al-Ma’aliq men not killed by poison were slain by sword and axe. As for the women and children—they were burned alive inside Beit Ma’aliq. To my shame and sorrow, I escaped—through no cunning of my own. But now I am the only one left.” He glared at the assassin. “And I will be avenged.”
    Kabir caught his breath. “This Sheyqa of your country—she is Geysh Dushann?”
    â€œI’ve never heard ‘dushann’ refer to anything but the smoke from a fire. As for a ‘geysh,’ an army—I can tell you only what I know. Her ancestor came from a tribe called Ammarad and termed herself Ammara Izzad.” He shrugged. “A reminder of the crimson harvest of barbarian blood.”
    â€œThe Geysh Dushann,” Kabir said heavily, “are all of the Ammarad.”
    Azzad rubbed an aching shoulder and said nothing.
    â€œWhat did your family do, to incur the wrath of this Sheyqa?” asked Abb Shagara.
    Softly, Fadhil said, “Power, envy, money, land, greed.”
    Azzad nodded.
    â€œBut to murder a whole tribe—” Abb Shagara shook his head. “To poison men inside her own tent, to slay them with swords and axes, to burn women and children in their home—this Sheyqa is a monster.” Pausing, he bowed slightly to Azzad. “I am honored, Azzad al-Ma’aliq, that our enemy is also your enemy. I now accept this Sheyqa Nizzira as the enemy of the Shagara.”
    Azzad knew the enormity of this declaration in his own country. It sounded very much as if things were the same here. And he knew what was required of him in return. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he said the words gladly. “I am honored, Abb Shagara, that my enemy is also your enemy. I now accept your enemies as mine own, forever.”
    â€œWait.” Meryem rose lithely to her feet. “I shall have something to say about this. Or does the Abb Shagara think he rules this tribe alone?”
    â€œMother—” the boy began.
    Azzad stared, but he managed to keep his astonishment unspoken.
    â€œMy son, if Azzad has made an enemy of this woman, and if this woman is of the Ammarad, and if we accept all of them as our enemies, and if—”
    â€œMother! Do you question the righteousness of—”
    â€œAnd if ,” she repeated undaunted, “we all wish to live our lives without constantly looking over our shoulders, then we had best think hard and talk harder about