Sword-Maker(134)
“He must have had a reason.”
“That foreign-born Punja-mite doesn’t need a reason for anything, remember?” I said testily. “All he wants is fame. So he decided to borrow mine.”
Del’s tone was dry. “You have more than enough to share.”
“That’s not the point. The point is he’s been riding around the South for hoolies knows how long telling hoolies knows how many people he’s my son.” I heard the passion in my voice and purposely damped it. “I just don’t like it.”
Del sipped her wine. “If you find him, you can tell him.”
“I’ll find him,” I promised. “He can’t hide from me.”
Her mouth twitched slightly. “He seems to have done a good job of it for the last several weeks. I doubt you’ll find him again unless he wants you to.”
“I’ll find him,” I repeated.
A body arrived at our low “table.” “Well, Sandtiger,” he said. “I hear you’ve been hired to dance the day after tomorrow.”
I glanced up: Rhashad. “The word’s gone around already?” Thinking Esnat hadn’t wasted much time bragging about his suit.
The red-haired Borderer grinned. “All over Iskandar. Doesn’t take long when the Sandtiger is involved.” He sat down on the floor, not bothering with a “stool,” and leaned against the crumbling wall. A sun-spotted hand, waving, signaled for more aqivi. “I plan to put money on it.”
I shrugged. “Nothing to bet on, yet … I don’t have an opponent.”
Rhashad displayed big teeth in the shadow of ruddy mustaches. “Could even be me.”
I didn’t even blink. “Your mother wouldn’t like it.”
“Why not?”
“She wouldn’t want you to lose.”
“Hah!” Rhashad had played this game before. “I wouldn’t be so certain of winning, Sandtiger … word is also making the rounds that you’re not the dancer you once were.”
I drank sparingly. “Oh?”
Rhashad waited until the recently summoned aqivi jug arrived, then splashed a measure into a cup. “Oh, yes. It’s quite well known. The Sandtiger, rumor says, hasn’t danced in months. He’s lost his speed, his edge … lost a lot of his fire. Because of a wound, I hear … a cut not fully healed.”
I smiled insincerely. “You’ve been talking to Abbu. Or listening to him; that’s worse.”
Rhashad shrugged. “You know Abbu Bensir. Part of the reason he’s who he is, is because of the dance up here.” The Borderer tapped his head. “You’ve never been a victim; you don’t know what it’s like.”
“Abbu says whatever he likes.” I drank more aqivi. “You know rumor as well as I, Rhashad. How many times have we heard how old and slow someone is—or how young and undisciplined—and discovered how wrong we were?” I grinned, showing teeth white as his own. “Sounds to me like someone—Abbu, maybe?—is trying to force better odds.”
The Borderer nodded. “Not a bad attempt, since you don’t look as healthy as I’ve seen you look.” He grinned back pointedly. “And yes, I know rumor … like the ones about this Oracle fellow and the jhihadi.”
I sighed. “What now?”
He shrugged. “Just that this Oracle fellow is supposed to show up here in the next couple of days. Tomorrow, maybe the next day. Maybe the day after that.”
“They’ve been saying that for days.”
“This time the rumors are a bit more specific.” Rhashad sucked down aqivi. “I figure it doesn’t matter. Except, of course, it’ll have some effect on our coin-pouches.”
“Why?” Del asked. “What does the Oracle—or the jhihadi—have to do with money?”
“There’s likely to be a war.” He sat against the wall with legs splayed, combing mustaches with his fingers. “Haven’t you seen the change? The tribes have all but disappeared—the warriors, that is … word is all the tribesmen have gathered in the foothills to welcome this Oracle fellow. And then they’re supposed to bring him down into Iskandar, so he can name the jhihadi.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I noticed things felt different. The tanzeers are hiring armed men.”
“And a few assassins.” Rhashad’s teeth showed briefly. “That’s never been my style, but it didn’t stop him from asking.”
I frowned. “Who asked what?”
“A tanzeer asked me to help assassinate the Oracle.” Rhashad gestured. “Not in so many words, of course, but that was the gist of the talk.”