The bald and tattooed old woman patted the magenta velvet cushion next to her, her elegant robes embroidered in gold against black. Halanni knelt there and lowered her head respectfully.
“I have good news my granddaughter. You have been called up to join the main family now. It is your duty to follow my instructions and all will be well for you.”
Hala nodded her adorned head and clasped her long fingers self-consciously over her lap.
“I had thought more than a bit of your mother would be evident in you, but here you are, the spitting image of Thass; tall and dark as teak. You have probably wondered who would wish to marry a girl who looks so overly much like her father?”
“I do not worry over such things, Grandmother. I am too busy with my studies as you directed.”
“I must admit I never thought you would be of much use.
“I could've helped father direct his caravans to the best routes or translating for him?
“You could've made a proper priestess of Kossuth, too. And since your father has passed. Things have changed and I find current events have driven us in another direction.”
“What direction is that grandmother?”
“You will cease your training as a priestess. You will marry Vahn. It is decided that your blood of long-life will be passed on to the next generation and strengthen the vein of our magical talents.”
Hala forgot her respectful tone and rocked forward on her heels, “He's my half-brother! He is not even entirely alive! Honored Grandmother, how can you ask this of me?”
The wrinkled old woman, eyes deep in pouched folds, but still lined with kohl and colored ombre orange seemed to grow in size as her voice rose to a terse command, “I do not ask. I am telling you what will happen. In ten days he will come here and you will be married in the family temple. There your fates will be burned together in fire. You will bear him many sons and you will take whatever he does not give you out on your slaves as all wise women do.”
Later, Halanni sobbed loudly into her silken pillow, her body shaking with horror and filled with completely helplessness. Her gentle slave Maruis moved to her side with her long dreaded locks swinging behind her.
“Honored daughter, you do not have to do this. In the rest of the world people make their own fate and you too can make your own fate.”
“My fate is burned in the embers of fire, what grandmother says, is the law of this house,” she cried in despair.
The elegant slave made a gamble, her voice urgent, “If you will remove the brand from I and my mate, we will take you from this place, and help you get free. We will do this all this in exchange for our mutual freedom. In our tribe in Rasheman you will be treated like our family and left to do your own will.”
“You will help me? But don't you have a good life here? Uncle gives you everything. He says you have the best of all the slaves in Thay?”
The slave stared for a moment at the pampered girl with her silks in a tangle and her tender skin oiled and shinning. She stood silent for some time as Halanni's tears resumed. Then she spoke slowly, “Honored Halanni, we have been here for fifteen years. We were told we would be freed one day, but now that your father is gone, no one is left to hold to that promise.”
“How did you come to be here?”
“My tribe was betrayed. The Thayans took us then our tribe scattered like the wind. My sweet child was ripped from my arms traded away child for a bag of gold. And my mate, who was the leader of our tribe, is now branded and bound. He grinds away at the wine presses and he tills the field like the horses he once rode with pride. He is ready to leave this place, but he will protect us.”
