Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

"Would it make you feel any better to know that I've been seeing someone else?"

"Who? You've only been back a day." Majdi frowned at Kiram. "Not Vashir?"

"No, not anyone here." Kiram said.

"Who then? Not one of those Cadeleonians?"

Kiram simply took the lamp back from his brother and led on to their house.

"Not the plump one you wrote about, is it?" Majdi guessed. "Or the one with a child's mind? You haven't taken up with a simpleton, have you?"

Kiram laughed but refused to confirm or deny anything.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Kiram described the clothes he'd seen Cadeleonian nobles wearing and admired samples of beautifully dyed silks. Later he drank a little mulled wine with his father while the two of them tinkered with the pump his father was building.

When he retired to his bed, he slept heavily. He dreamed of dark troubling forms and then of a warm, strong body lying beside his own. He woke in the pale chill of dawn with an intense awareness of Javier's absence.

Fortunately, he was not given time or freedom to brood on his loneliness. His father claimed him most of the day to assist in grinding down the gears for a clockwork fountain that had been commissioned by a Cadeleonian spice merchant. The work absorbed Kiram and soothed his restless thoughts. By the time he took his lunch, his muscles were loose and tired from lifting and filing metal and his mind bristled with dozens of minute measurements he'd taken with his father's fine steel calipers.

He joined Dauhd, shopping in the markets after lunch. Once he thought he glimpsed Musni, his trousers slung low and his muscular chest bare, grappling with another man in the shadows of a doorway. Dauhd quickly called Kiram's attention to the newly printed broadsheet containing the announcement of Nestor's imminent wedding. Kiram entertained her, and later his mother, by explaining the circumstances of the marriage. By the end his mother seemed to have taken a liking to Nestor for his loyalty.

Garlands of flowers arrived and the entire family and house staff worked through the evening, hanging them in the ballroom and hallways in preparation for the following night's dance.

The next day distant relatives arrived early. As a dutiful, youngest son, Kiram greeted them and thanked them for the gifts they brought. He found himself answering the same questions again and again, describing the rigors of Cadeleonian battle training as well as the horrors of their dismal winter meals. His aunts laughed while his cousins looked on with expressions ranging from amusement to jealousy.

Then merchants and council women arrived with their eligible nephews and sons in tow. Kiram's throat began to feel dry and he grew tired of repeating Javier's name when asked who he had roomed with.

More than once Kiram slipped away to the courtyard gardens to escape the attention, but as evening approached, the sky darkened and a downpour of rain drove him back inside.

By that time, musicians had set up in the ballroom and the guests seemed happy to eat from the banquet tables and mix with one another. They were all well dressed but not in Cade- leonian fashion. None of them powdered their hair black, nor did they sprinkle their bodies with gold dust. Both men and women wore strings of beads in their braided hair and most of the children sported crowns of brilliant paper flowers. Many of the younger men, Kiram included, wore short, ornate vests which left their arms and a slim line of their abdomens bare. Most women wore longer vests over their full trousers and sported large earrings.

Kiram noted that more than a few eligible sons were already enjoying each other's company despite their parents' frowns. Among them Kiram caught sight of Vashir, flirting with the Lif- Zibhan twins. Hashiem Kir-Naham smiled at Kiram from across the room and though Kiram returned his smile, he did not make his way closer to the man.

As the first strains of a familiar song sounded Kiram hurried to the polished dance floor. He linked his little fingers with dancers on either side of him. In moments two long lines were formed and then the music roared out.

Kiram rushed and skipped through the quick steps as the lines crossed and circled. He turned, clapped hands, turned again and almost clapped his palms into his little nephew's forehead. The boy hopped up to slap Kiram's palms and the both laughed and rushed on to the next steps. The musicians doubled the tempo. Kiram and his fellow dancers rushed to keep up, nearly tripping over each other's feet and missing half the claps. Older men and women looking on laughed, as did most of the dancers.

By the time the first dance ended Kiram and his nephew were giggling at each other's harried performances. In the line across from them Dauhd and a young man in a Civic Guard uniform slapped each other on the back in congratulation, both of them having kept perfect time.

Several dancers left the floor to find food and drinks at one of the long banquet tables or to lounge in the comfort of the Cadeleonian-style couches and chairs, but Kiram danced on. He loved the speed and rhythm, the heat and excitement. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. As the tunes changed Kiram reeled and spun through familiar steps. To his joy someone brought out a set of six red twig brooms. While elderly couples and groups of children held the brooms, Kiram and his fellow dancers leaped over them and wriggled under them. As often as not they got swatted across their butts.

Majdi howled and played up the indignity as did Siamak. Kiram however remained intent upon passing through the brooms unscathed. His fellow dancers bowed out after a few whacks but Kiram leaped and dodged the brooms. Soon his giggling nieces chased him with wooden spoons and Majdi yelled encouragements. He managed three passes perfectly unscathed before his sister Dauhd lunged in and smacked a broom into his buttocks. Kiram did her the compliment of yelping and falling to the floor. His nieces and nephew threw themselves on top of him, attempting to pin him with their tiny hands. Kiram feigned resistance until Dauhd placed her broom on his chest and proclaimed her triumph.

By the time Kiram got to his feet everyone in the ballroom was laughing, even the musicians. Hashiem Kir-Naham stepped to Kiram's side and offered him a glass of mulled honey wine.

"You're quite quick," Hashiem commented.

"Thankyou," Kiram replied. He didn't know what else to say to the other man. He sipped his wine.

"Have you ever danced Cadeleonian style?"

"No, I've seen it done but never had the chance myself."

"I'll speak to the musicians." Hashiem touched his hand as if reassuring him. "Cadeleonian pair dancing has been quite popular lately, so I'm sure they'll know a few songs."

"There's no need to do that," Kiram said but Hashiem just smiled at him in an indulgent manner and then strode across the room to where the brilliantly-dressed musicians stood.

Just past the musicians Kiram caught sight of the young boy who kept watch at the front gate in the evening. Rainwater dribbled off his oiled hood and his expression was one of anxiety.

"Master Kiram!" the boy shouted and the entire ballroom went suddenly quiet. "There's a man at the gate and he's demanding to see you and he doesn't have an invitation and he won't go away!"

Kiram heard more than one voice hiss Musni's name. Kiram glanced to his mother and noted her scowl as well as his father's deep frown. Majdi just shook his head at Kiram.

"I'll take care of this," Kiram said, hoping that somehow everyone would return to the festivities and ignore him while he talked to Musni.

As Kiram strode out of the ballroom he heard footsteps behind him and knew that members of his family as well as curious guests followed him. He refused to look back. He borrowed the boy's lamp and rain cloak, then rushed out into the downpour, leaving a pack of witnesses peering after him from the doorway.