Arwia’s brow was furrowed, the small birthmark that hovered above her lip standing out starkly on her face, which had paled due to the stress of last night. Her attempted assassination. The injury. And now, the question she was going to ask Sarratum Tabni.
Gnats tumbled in my belly, and I took a long, shaky breath. “Yes, I know. War is on the horizon.”
“Just as we thought.” Manzazu, our safe haven, was definitely preparing to retaliate.
Iltani shifted Nanaea’s basket of dinner linens on her hip as she, Arwia, and I approached the Libbu. Dagan and Kasha walked a few paces back, both of them with daggers in hand. Dagan had been teaching Kasha to throw, and though my brother’s aim was improving, I prayed to Selu he didn’t need to fling the blade. Someone would likely lose an eye.
Behind them, two Koru warriors marched, hands on weapons, eyes on the people around us. One was Humusi, who always seemed to radiate a nervous energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The other was a bulky warrior named Higal, who had a scar down her left cheek and a scorpion tattoo on her right. They’d been stationed by our home and had immediately followed us when we left, though Higal looked aggrieved that she’d been forced to watch us.
Next to me, Iltani was bleary-eyed, her continuous revels over the last several moons no doubt taking a toll. I placed the back of my hand against her forehead and pulled it away when she batted at me.
“Iltani, the last thing I need to worry about right now with all that is going on is your health, so I beg you to keep it together. You’ve been drinking too much brew. Staying out too late time and again. Last night Dagan said he searched for you for almost a full hour and had to pull you, half-dressed, out of the bushes.”
“Yes, and you slam the door when you come into the house late at night and wake everyone up,” Arwia groused. She shifted our basket of offerings for Linaza to the other arm. We couldn’t enter the temple without a gift, so we’d brought a selection of our favorite things.
“At least I am good at earning coins, if not at being silent like the rest of you walking dead.”
Though she’d slept through our conversation early this morning, she’d jumped at the chance to leave the house. I’d begged her to stay behind, but she refused. Her ruse was that she wanted to sell Nanaea’s linens. The two of them had teamed together since Nanaea had proven to be ineffective in bartering, whereas Iltani could wring coins from a stone. But if I knew Iltani, she’d be flush with money in a half hour and two cups of sweetwine deep before noon.
“Just sell them quickly and get back home.” I lowered my voice. “There are people literally trying to kill us.”
“Kill you. They want nothing to do with me. I was a poor rat in Alu. They have no idea I’m here or who I am. Anonymity, as I’ve come to find out, is grand, especially if you’ve been after another woman’s husband.”
“For the sake of the gods, Iltani.” I scowled at her, but she just laughed.
We jostled around another group of warriors into the Libbu that encircled the Palace. Its six domes of rose gold glittered in the warm morning light, and jade-green tents were scattered around it like seeds in a field. People haggled with the merchants in front of them over baskets of fish and multicolored shawls.
Many of the merchants’ tents, however, were gone. The spice tent had disappeared. The silks. Even quite a few of the stalls selling trinkets for children and scorpion amulets for praying to Linaza. A few weeks ago, I’d had to trade healing services for just the smallest bottle of arnica, and I was rapidly running out. Trade from the sea had been cut off by the skirmishes near the ports, apparently led by Uruku and his mercenaries. It was going to be severely problematic if it wasn’t resolved soon.
A family went by, a little girl clinging to the mother’s hand, a skinny father leading two roped rams at her side. Iltani’s eyes dimmed as she followed the man with her eyes.
“Is that one of the husbands you’ve been hounding?” Shading my eyes against the sun’s glare, I looked up at the rounded crimson temple that sat in the middle of the Palace’s domes. Arwia had said that the queen spent the morning in prayer and we could find her there.
“No.” She cleared her throat, and the twisted smile was back on her face. “Reminded me of someone from Alu. Now go. Shoo. Be gone. I have money to make, and your presence reduces my chances significantly.”
As we reached the sandstone stairs, I felt a surge of love for this poorly mannered friend of mine and tugged Iltani into a hug. “Make smart choices. And stay with Dagan and Kasha. Think of them, if not yourself, all right?”
“You worry too much.” She laid a big, wet kiss on my forehead and shoved me away. With a keen eye toward the merchants’ tents, she wandered off, likely wondering who would be the most malleable clay in her hands.
“Kasha and I are going to get him a new blade and will keep track of Iltani.” Dagan pulled me close. Tucked my hair around my ears. “Then we’d better get back to our home and lock ourselves in.” He looked past me to the carts and the weapons and lowered his voice. “Do you think she’ll agree to send in the assassins, Arwia?”
“Perhaps.” Arwia’s long braid slipped down over her shoulder, and she winced when it brushed the stitches on her ear. “Though I’m not sure I’m the best person to sit on the throne if she does manage to oust him.”
“You’re stronger than you think, my friend.” I wasn’t sure I agreed with asking to kill a man outright, but as I’d lain there trying to sleep, tossing and turning, the logic of it was hard to deny.
That didn’t make it morally right.
I stood on tiptoe and kissed Dagan’s lips softly. “Stay with Iltani. Please.”
“Of course.” He rubbed his thumb over my chin. Kissed me once more. “You have my heart, Kammani.”
“And you, mine.”
Disgust filled Kasha’s face at our conversation, but Dagan clapped Kasha on the back with affection, issuing a final warning for me to be careful. Together, they trailed after Iltani. The warriors behind us split. Humusi and Higal debated, then with a scowl, Higal followed behind Dagan.
Although I felt a prickle of unease spidering into my scalp as we ascended the stairs, only part of it was because of the likelihood of a second assassination attempt. The other part was because there was a good chance we were all going to be facing an entirely new tomorrow, depending on what Sarratum Tabni said today.
* * *
The temple glowed in the morning sun. The goddess Linaza with her scorpion’s tail, wings stretched full and weightless from her back, was painted in vivid blue over the arched doorway. Ummi stood rigidly next to it, battle-axes in her belt, cropped black hair hanging from her helmet.