“So much useless chattering,” he said by way of greeting. There was a faint slur to his voice. “Ladies, come and sit.”
Arwa and Eshara kneeled down across from him.
He placed his own cup on the ground.
“Wine,” he said, pushing it toward Arwa, keen light in his eyes. “Drink.”
“I am a widow,” Arwa said softly, scrabbling for decorum in the face of the captain’s drunken joy, the nervous and fearful silence of the soldiers. “My lord, I will not imbibe with men.”
“Your honor, is it?” Lips peeling back from his teeth. “As I see it, a respectable widow wouldn’t be flirting about with my men at all. A respectable widow would trust the Governor’s men to protect the caravanserai as they see fit. She would have faith.”
He turned his gaze onto Eshara.
“And you, I think, are not a widow. Too much hair, for one.”
“No,” Eshara said shortly.
“Then you can drink for the both of you,” he said.
“I think we’d best leave,” said Eshara.
“No,” said the captain. “We haven’t talked yet. Drink.”
Eshara took the cup. Drank a sip. Lowered it. Satisfied, Argeb picked up the cup, placed his mouth pointedly where hers had rested on the rim, and drank deep and fast. When he’d finished he lowered the cup. Poured again.
“I can forgive your behavior, widow. People are so desperate to leave that they’ll do anything, it seems. Why, a man tried to climb the walls an hour ago. He’s being made an example of; of course, we can’t treat men the way we do women. Has it been done, Giresh?”
“Sir, I, well…” The soft-faced soldier, Giresh, stopped and swallowed. Then he said, “I will check. My lord.”
“Do.”
Giresh vanished.
“I am not just rooting out bandits, you see,” the captain said. “I am rooting out all sorts of things.”
He leaned forward, conspiratorial, and she smelled his breath, sweet with wine, bitter with something that was not wine.Not just drunk, she thought.
How long had he been sitting here drinking, imbibing, even as his men stood apart from him in nervous, fearful silence? The oldest of them was watching the captain like a hawk. This was his patrol. No doubt they knew his moods well.
“I heard you speak, widow,” he said. “You spoke of Darez Fort. Said we could end up like that place. You verged on heresy.”
“Not heresy, my lord,” Arwa said, even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Only a mere woman’s fears.”
“I know, you said.I know.”
He leaned in even closer. Arwa felt the back of Eshara’s hand against her leg, grounding her, helping her avoid the desire to wrench herself away.
“I see it in your eyes,” he whispered. “Something… inhuman. Your eyes are not a natural color. They are like…”
Ash, Arwa thought.
But he did not finish his statement. Instead his smile twitched, spasmodic.
“You hear it too,” he said. “Don’t you?”
He did not say,the nightmare. But she understood. She knew.
She nodded. Careful. She had to be careful. The wrong words would see her and Eshara dead.
