Sword Dancer - Sword Sworn Part 48

I DID NOT immediately go to find Neesha. I watched Del walk away, heading back toward Mehmet's house. Then I turned, stared pensively up at the broken chimney for a time, then into the rushing water.

I have a son.

Alien words. Alien concept.

I have a son.

I had believed it impossible. Not because I was incapable or infertile, but because at the core of my being a small, cold, piece of me remembered all too well how the Salset treated the get of chulas, if the women were unlucky enough to carry to full term when herbs didn't loosen the child. They were made slaves themselves, or sold to slave-dealers, or exposed out in the desert.

When you have lived among the Salset for sixteen years, you do not easily forge a new ident.i.ty, a new view of yourself. I had spent far more years as a sword-dancer, but slavery had shaped me. A part of me would always be a chula in mind if not body.

I have a son.

Born into freedom, not slavery. Not sold. Not exposed.

Despite what I had told others, I had never not wanted children. I had simply never allowed myself to consider that I could.

I have a son.

I felt the kindling of a new emotion. Felt tears on my face. Praise the G.o.ds.

As Del had said, I found Neesha near the corral, grooming and talking quietly to the horses.

It struck me yet again how good he was with them. Firm but not heavy-handed; calm, soft-spoken, yet clear on who was in charge. He had already groomed his horse and Del's gelding; now he worked on the stud. More than a little surprised by the stud's quietude, I watched without indicating I was nearby.

But he knew. Whether it was the stud's p.r.i.c.ked ears or just an extra sense because of his background, he glanced over a shoulder as he smoothed the brush around the healing wound on the brown haunch.

It was too difficult to say what I wished to say. So I opened with a compliment that was also the truth. "You are very good with horses."

He looked away. "Is that your way of suggesting I should go back to the farm?"

Oh, he was indeed in a mood. "It was my way of saying you're very good with horses."

He ran the brush down to the stud's hock. "But you think I should go back to the farm."

I told myself to be patient, that I had set up this scene by my own reaction to his news. "If that was a question, I'll answer it: If you want to. If it was an accusation, then I'm denying it."

"Maybe you don't care enough to have an opinion one way or the other."

Anger flared; of course I cared. But how could he know if I didn't tell him? Even if I had no idea how to begin.

I let the anger die. "Maybe I have an opinion but don't care for people trying to put words in my mouth."

"I thought about leaving." He eased around the stud's rump, moved to his head to brush the far side. "I thought about saddling up and just going, with no word to anyone. But I decided that would be childish."

I smiled. "Well, yes."

"And besides, I really did come to ask you for lessons, and I really do want to be a sword-dancer."

Finally I had to ask it. "And when did you plan to tell me you were my son?"

He moved to the stud's withers and looked at me across his back. "When I felt I was good enough that you'd be proud of me."

That was a kick in the gut, if not a stool over the head. "So, you had not planned to tell me at any point during the ride here."

"No."

That hurt. "Then why did you? I know what Del told me; but she wouldn't have given you away. You could have kept your mouth shut."

He hitched a single shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. "When I got up there in the rocks and came face to face with you, I thought I couldn't. Decided not to. But then I brought your sword out. and I thought that would please you-"

"It did please me."

"-so I decided to take a chance. And then-I couldn't. I couldn't say it. And you got angry."

Dryly, I explained, "I hate it when people won't say what's on their mind. I tend to yell sometimes, or so Del tells me."

"And then it just came out. And you-didn't care. Didn't believe me, until I showed you the mark."

"And then you decided I wasn't pleased."

"Because you said-"

Hoolies, couldn't he see? "What I said was that it wasn't a good time to expect anything out of me. I had just had the shock of my life. There were too many thoughts in my head for me to make any sense at all of any of them, let alone to say anything worthwhile! Think of it as being so drunk you can barely remember your name . . . the G.o.ds only know what will come out of your mouth." I twisted mine. "For what it's worth, seeing the mark was only confirmation. I did believe you. But I wasn't remotely pre- pared for that kind of announcement. Hoolies, I was expecting you to say something entirely different! Had expected it for some time."

He had stopped brushing and stared at me, brows knit. "What were you expecting me to say?"

I drew in a breath. "That you wanted Del. And she wanted you."

His mouth dropped open. "What!" "That's what I was expecting."

"I-but. . . but what-I mean . . ."

I laughed. "See? Sometimes you can't make your brain form a real sentence."

He got the point. Closed his mouth. Tried again. "Why would you think anything of the sort?"

"I saw how you looked at her. Today in the other canyon. And at other times."

He stared at me as if I had two heads. "G.o.ds, she's breathtaking! She's what we all dream of.

How could any man not stare at her?"

I could not keep the curtness from my tone. "Or not wonder what she'd be like in his bed?"

Color bloomed in his face. "You tell me, Sandtiger! You're the one who took my mother to his bed when she was barely sixteen!"

After a moment, I said, "You know how to pick your weapons."

"But it's true."

"Yes." I nodded, aware of a trace of shame. "Yes, I did take her to my bed. I was a scared, foolish kid drunk on freedom, dreaming of making himself someone of significance in the circles at Alimat. She was very pretty, and I couldn't understand how she might be attracted to me. But she made me feel special." I had to look away from him; couldn't face his eyes. "She made me feel like a man instead of a chula."

He too looked away for a long moment. Then met my eyes again. "She said you were kind."

My reply was heartfelt. "I hope I was. She deserved kindness."

"She said-" Abruptly his mouth jerked into a crooked smile. "She said I take after her father, the headman. That I have a little of your height but not your eyes. Or hers."

I smiled, remembering. "She had very dark eyes."

"My grandfather has Borderer blood in him. It shows in me."

"There's Skandic in you, too. But your grandfather, if he had those eyes, probably could have taken his pick of any woman on the border."

Neesha grinned. "Ah, that's right. You said I could make every woman spread her legs for me."

"A not inconsiderable feat."

"Except for Del." He shook his head. "Would I want to?- hoolies, I'm a man, not a fool!

But she sees no one but you. That was quite clear when I tended her in the lean-to."

Unable to speak openly about something this important, I resorted to off-handedness. "Nah, she just wants me for all my vast riches." Then I grinned. "And now, let me say this: You are a good-looking, smart kid with a head on his shoulders. And I like you. But I have never been a father, nor ever expected to be. I don't know how."

With wide, melting eyes, Neesha told me, "It's not as if you'll need to change my diapers."

"And you've got a smart mouth on you, too."

He affected innocence. "My mother doesn't, nor the man she married. I must have gotten it from someone else."

I scowled. Pointed to the stud's immaculate left leg. "You missed a spot." Then I stalked away.

Later that night as we lay in Mehmet's bed feeling the effects of a large feast, Del asked, "Did you tell him?"

I had been just at the edge of sleep. "Tell him what?"

"That you like him."

I yawned widely. "Yes, I told him that I like him. I told him everything you told me to tell him, that I had told you."

I heard a breath of laughter. "What did he say?"

"That he must have inherited his smart mouth from me."

After a moment of startled silence, Del began to giggle against my chest. I went back to sleep.

When I awoke not long after dawn, I discovered Del was missing. No wonder the bed felt so empty. I dragged myself out of it, slipped into harness and sword, wandered through the front room to the dooryard and saw Neesha lying belly-down at the edge of the stream, staring into the water with one arm submerged beyond his elbow. He didn't move. Finally I went over asked asked what he was doing.

"I'm hoping to catch some fish."

"There are fish in there?"

"Del and I saw them yesterday, after you'd gone back. Quite a few up in the pool in the other canyon."

I decided to mention it. "You don't have a hook or line."

"No, I'm planning to tickle them."

"Tickle them? Fish?" I'd always considered tickling for women and children, not fish.

"If you tickle their bellies, they get a little sleepy. Or whatever fish do; I'm not sure. Maybe they just stop paying attention. But you can grab them and throw them on the bank."

I grunted skeptically. "I wasn't born yesterday, and you're not fooling me with such nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. I've done it many times."

"Where?"

"In the borderlands, close to the North. Lots of streams and creeks up there."

It still sounded unlikely to me, but I didn't know him well enough to be certain when he was joking. "Huh. I'll bet Mehmet has a hook and line."

"Probably, but I didn't want to disturb him. And I like doing it this way. Sometimes you need to know you're smarter than the fish."

Dryly, I observed, "I wouldn't think that'd be too hard."

Equally dry, he told me I'd be surprised.

I observed him a moment longer, marveling. This is my son.

Then I reached over with a foot and b.u.mped his leg. "Come on. It's time for your first lesson."

He was startled. "Now?"

"Why not? I like to believe I'm better company than the fish."

Neesha shot me an elaborately a.s.sessive glance.

I smiled, baring teeth, and unsheathed my jivatma. After that he didn't look at anything else.

"Come on, Nayyib-Neesha. This is just the beginning of a long and painful process."

He stood up from the bank. Eyed me again, this time seriously. And sighed. "Yes, I suspect it will be."