Dragonfly

Tashi took a step back and shook her head.

"Come to gloat over our fall?"

She shook her head vigorously; she had meant no disrespect.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

Tashi put her finger to her lips to signal that she could not speak.

"Goddess got your tongue?" sneered the woman. "I expect they've cut it out.

I heard they do that here."

"My tongue has not been cut out," Tashi replied, stung to defend her faith. "I have a duty of silence."

"Which you have just broken," the woman declared triumphantly, glancing back at the other

women.

It was true, Tashi acknowledged. She had failed the

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first test of the obligations imposed on her, just as she had failed at everything else. There was

no surprise in that; hardly any shame, as she was already as low as she could get.

"Yes, I have failed," Tashi agreed humbly. Now that she had broken her silence, she might as well satisfy her curiosity. "Who are you?"

"You have not heard?" The woman seemed displeased not to be recognized.

"No, I'm not allowed out. I am a pris--a devotee." The woman was not fooled.

She moved closer to the grille to stare at the fair-haired girl.

"A prisoner? You are like me then, though they call my incarceration

'hospitality.' What did you do, child?"

What had she done? Everything--nothing. "I broke my vows. And you?"

The woman smiled grimly. "I married the wrong man."

"Can you not divorce him?"

"He is dead--and his Empire another's."

Tashi felt a swoop of alarm. Even in the enclosure, all had heard of the fall of Fergox and given

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thanks for his defeat. She now knew who she was

speaking to and could guess who the other three women were. But what strange paths had

brought them to Rama she could not fathom. She had to get away from them before they found

out about her.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered hastily, and backed away.

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"No, stay!" commanded the First Wife. "You are the first Islander to speak civilly to me."

"I can't, I'm sorry." Tashi walked quickly back to her cell, determined to stay away from the grille in the future.

The First Wife was not a woman to let her desires be ignored. The fair-haired oath-breaker

intrigued her and she wanted to talk to her again. The girl was more like an Easterner than any

of the Islanders the wives had met since disembarking from their ship.

The Etiquette Mistress had been appointed as liaison between the Holtish exiles and the Blue

Crescent court. The Crown Princesses had agreed to shoulder the burden of protecting the

warlord's family as a goodwill gesture towards the new ruler of Holt, but no one was happy to

have the wives in the palace. The Etiquette Mistress met the women once a day to check that

their reasonable demands had been granted and their unreasonable ones dealt with

diplomatically. She had naturally refused the Holtish exiles' request to be given a place to pray

to their own god--worship of Holin in the palace: unthinkable! The Crown Princesses were

seeking more suitable

accommodation for the exiles, somewhere where they could do no harm, but the population

were hostile to having Fergox's family settle among them and so far no suitable solution had

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been found.

The First Wife listened impatiently to this explanation. She drummed her long fingers on the

table as the

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Etiquette Mistress apologized to her with the elaborate courtesy of the Islands.

"So, we are to remain your prisoners," the First Wife rapped out.

"You are free to go out with an escort--for your own safety," explained the Etiquette Mistress evenly. "We keep no one prisoner."

"No?" The First Wife pounced on this admission. "What about the fair-haired girl in the Enclosure--the one with purple robes?"

The Etiquette Mistress's eyes glinted. "You spoke to Taoshira?"

"Who?"

"She spoke to you?"

The First Wife could hear the barely suppressed rage in the woman's voice.

"Yes, we spoke. Briefly," the First Wife said coolly.

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"That should not have happened."

"But it did. I am interested in her. Who is she?"

The Etiquette Mistress swallowed, debating whether she should answer. If the First Wife did not

hear it from her, she could winkle it out from any palace servant.

"She is the disgraced Fourth Crown Princess."

"The witch!" exclaimed the First Wife in disgust.

The Etiquette Mistress did not correct her, pleased that she had taken the news so ill. She would

not be seeking Taoshira's company again, the Mistress thought smugly.

"Is there anything else, my lady?" the Etiquette Mistress asked.

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"No. I've heard enough." The First Wife strode from the room, clenching her fists.

The first Tashi knew about her visitors was when someone grabbed a fistful of her hair and

dragged her from her bed. Her room was pitch black, the floor cold; it was still the middle of the

night.

"What--!" she gasped, dazed with sleep.

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The hand let go. Tashi sensed that there was more than one person in the room.

"You evil witch!" snarled a woman's voice.

Tashi panicked. "Guards!" Further cries were cut off by a hand over her mouth.

"You caused the ruin of us and our families," continued the First Wife, "and you will pay for that."

Tashi wanted to say that it was none of her fault; that Fergox deserved to die; that it was

madness to invade the Enclosure and attack a devotee; but the Second Wife had gagged her

with a silk scarf and bound her wrists and ankles.

"You have humiliated us; now we will do the same to you," a

"First we will cut off that hair that so bewitched him, and then mark that perfect skin of yours so no one will forget what you did."

Terrified, Tashi struggled in earnest, kicking with two feet at the woman crouching by her legs,

propelling herself backwards against the washstand.

She struck with her fists at the First Wife, knocking a knife

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from the woman's grip. Rolling over, she upset the dented bronze fingerbowl at her bedside; it

fell to the ground with a reverberating clang.

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"Oh no: you don't escape again!" panted the First Wife, grabbing Tashi's arm to pull her back into the center of the circle.

Feet pounded in the corridor outside. A fist thumped on the closed door. The four wives froze.

"Devotee Taoshira, are you all right?" bellowed the guard.

Tashi screamed through her gag, a strangled sound but enough to alert the man that something

was wrong. The door flew open.

"What in the Goddess's name is happening here?" he exclaimed.

The First Wife kicked the knife out of sight under the bed and moved calmly to the entrance.

"We were just paying a social call on our sister here," she said. "We'll return to our beds now."

"Social call? In the Enclosure? At midnight?" spluttered the guard. "Why is Devotee Taoshira tied up and gagged?"

"We didn't want her to break her vow of silence again." The First Wife's eyes were cold as she looked at her victim.

Another guard appeared at the door. She quickly removed Tashi's bonds and helped her to her