Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

"So?" Majdi asked.

"I may have discovered one of the defenses you Haldiim used to drive the Cadeleonians from your famous wall," Javier replied.

Majdi laughed and clapped Javier on the back. Kiram handed him a cup of tea and Javier downed it in a fast gulp.

"Not bad for a first-timer," Majdi told Javier. "My navigator spilled his lunch first time I fed fahl to him."

"That's not something to be proud of," Dauhd said.

"Their mother likes it as well," Kiram's father told Javier. He wrinkled his nose.

Kiram refilled Javier's tea and then his own. As breakfast continued the conversation shifted back and forth between Haldiim and Cadeleonian. The subject ranged from water pumps to Mirogoth ships, the forests of Rauma and at last settled upon a list of the many Haldiim sites Kiram ought to show to Javier.

Between servings of lamb and almonds, Javier returned to his roll of adhil bread and fahl, taking careful bites. By the end of the meal, he'd finished it and had even added a small dollop of fahl to some of his lamb.

"I can't believe that you're eating more of it," Kiram murmured.

"The taste was a little strange at first but it's growing on me." Javier downed the last of his lamb. "Reminds me a little of a very blue cheese."

"Reminds me of dirty foreskin," Majdi whispered. Kiram almost choked on his tea and Javier went scarlet.

"What did he say?" Dauhd demanded.

"You don't want to know." Kiram's father tossed a sprig of mint at Majdi. "You chew on that to clean your mouth out. You're not at sea now, you know."

"Sorry. I meant no offense," Majdi told Javier in clear Cade- leonian, then he jammed the mint into his mouth and chewed it obediently.

"No offense taken," Javier assured him. Kiram found it amazing how quickly he regained his composure. Then Javier leaned closer to Majdi and whispered, "There's definitely a hint of foreskin, but I thought it had more of the smell of balls."

Majdi's brows shot up then. Grinning, he handed a sprig of mint to Javier. Javier took it and chewed it with a look of pride. It was just like him to want to be allied with the offensive rather than the offended, Kiram thought.

Kiram knew that Javier had impressed Majdi at least a little, when after breakfast Majdi brought down a red leather coat that he'd won off a Mirogoth captain and offered it to Javier to wear while his clothes were being laundered and dried.

The coat fit Javier and lent him a striking, exotic air especially in combination with the fine Haldiim vest and trousers and the Cadeleonian boots and sword he wore.

People gawked as Kiram and Javier walked across the Ammej Bridge. The fiery colors of Javier's clothes matched the scarlet beams of the bridge well. As he gazed out at passing merchants and reed riverboats, excitement seemed to illuminate his features. Kiram wished suddenly that he possessed a little of Nestor's skill so that he could capture this moment and somehow hold Javier in this beautiful, exhilarated instant.

But the iridescent flash of a knife dancer's wares caught Javier's eye and he was off. The entire Haldiim district seemed to excite and fascinate him. He grinned at the red doves, ran his hands over the glassy tiles of mosaic walls and raced along the riverbank, chasing a painted, paper hawk kite as it swirled on the wind. Kiram dashed alongside him; from time to time he answered a question or provided a little history but mostly he let Javier's enthusiasm envelop him and show him how strange and wonderful his own home could be.

They passed the Circle of Red Oaks and for a moment Javier went still and silent, studying the dense vines and ancient trees.

"It's different than I imagined," Javier said. "Much bigger. Darker too, like the Mirogoth forests."

Kiram nodded. "My sisters always claimed it was full of monsters and wild beasts."

"And is it?" Javier asked with an arched brow.

"Maybe some foxes or weasels." Kiram shrugged. "But I couldn't say for sure. Only Bahiim go there most of the year."

"Your uncle's partner, Alizadeh, would know, wouldn't he?" Javier asked.

"He probably knows everything about that place," Kiram replied.

"Do you think we could see him?" Javier asked.

Kiram couldn't imagine that the Circle of Red Oaks could be all that interesting to talk about, but then he was sure that wasn't really what Javier wanted to discuss with Alizadeh.

"We'll visit them for lunch," Kiram assured Javier.

They moved to the open market where musicians played for coins and vendors sold spring mint, salt, tea and dozens of different grains. Kiram pointed out the grinder he and his father had designed. Javier commented that he probably ought to hire Kiram to design a few for him back in Rauma. Before either of them could think further about it, the glittering rows of charm vendors attracted Javier's attention.

"I've read about the charms they sell here," Javier commented. "All damned, according to Holy Father Habalan, of course."

Kiram replied, "All the best things are."

Javier grinned at that.

They bought a few trinkets in the charm market: two clay luck whistles and a badly stamped copper talisman depicting what looked like a three legged piglet, which Javier found hilarious for reasons he could not explain.

At Mother Kir-Mahoud's stables, Javier looked in on Lunaluz and Kiram found himself missing Firaj. Cadeleonian merchants came and went with their mounts but few Haldiim used the stables since to most Haldiim horsemanship still smacked of a lurid Irabiim lifestyle.

While Javier exercised Lunaluz in the small arena, Kiram strolled ahead to the Civic Gymnasium. The green lawn of the archery range still dominated the grounds, but the decrepit shelters that Kiram remembered crouching under during rainstorms were now arching pavilions. A dozen young men in the black uniforms of the Civic Guards fired arrows into straw targets at one end of the range while several wealthy husbands lounged with their bows and quivers, waiting their turns.

The stone dancing circles remained open to the elements, but they had been expanded and new glazed tiles surrounded them. A group of twenty boys and girls stretched along with their instructor in one of the largest circles. Even from across the grounds Kiram could hear the children laugh at each other as the tried to lift their supple little legs up over their heads.

The oddly square mass of a Cadeleonian-style bathhouse rose up beside the ancient, domed training hall. Inside Kiram caught a glimpse of the huge new boiler. He supposed that public baths were better than no baths at all. When Kiram had trained here many of the poorer Haldiim who came to train for their civic duty had no facilities available to them other than the river.

He strolled across the green lawn to the narrow lanes of the runners' track.

He guessed that it would be a while before Javier joined him, so he laid his coat and vest aside and went for a run along the new racecourse. The lane cut through a small stand of willows, where Kiram passed two young women, then looped back to the training hall. As Kiram circled to take a third lap he heard someone running behind him, fast. For an instant Kiram thought it might be Javier chasing him, but when he glanced back he recognized Musni, dressed only in linen trousers and bearing down on him.

As they reached the willows Musni closed the distance between them. Glancing back, Kiram caught the assurance in Musni's expression. No doubt he expected to overtake Kiram easily. Kiram threw himself ahead, his heart pounding as he pushed himself into an all-out sprint. The cool spring air burned in his lungs.

He could hear Musni pounding the track behind him and breathing just as hard. He felt Musni's hand brush his back, tracing his spine.

A wild, competitive energy surged through Kiram and he pulled ahead. His legs burned and the first pang of a cramp bit into his side, but he pushed himself harder. The red clay track and surrounding green grounds blurred. Kiram tore past the training hall and crossed the iron posts of the starting line.