Fox's Bride Read Online Free PDF

don't think it's fair for me to be bitten by an animal. Been bit by my fair share of own children.”
    “I assure you,” Hiresha said, “you'll have to do no such thing.”
    “A toast to the bride.” Men lifted their glasses. “A ring of praise to honor her.”
    “A ring of praise. Her face is more beautiful than water in the desert.”
    “'Desert?'“ The man to his left grimaced. “Tough one. Oh! She's the most valuable Oasis import.”
    He pronounced the last word to make it a close rhyme to “desert.” The two priests slapped their knees in approval.
    “And she's the most fortunate woman in the lands.”
    Chandur was next in the circle. Even with everyone staring at him for the next verse, he did not worry. Either he would think of a matching phrase or he would not.
    “She has a healer's hands,” he said after some thought. “Her work honors the Opal Mind.”
    The following man rhymed that with “kind,” and around the circle they went praising her dress, wealth, and wishing her happiness in the afterlife. Hiresha seemed to weather the compliments well. At least she kept her groans quiet.
    Chandur liked to see others compete to come up with the most original verse in praise rings. He thought it odd, though, that he had heard poetry describing a woman's beauty, but never a man's. Men had a different sort of fineness to them, which he did not know how to put into words himself but thought someone should. He was sure Hiresha must have noticed that the skin-stitcher she had been speaking to in the palace had been most handsome.
    The last man to speak picked up the fennec, rubbing his sides. “Now what do you have to say to your bride?”
    The fennec trilled like a bird. The men roared their approval.
    Chandur shook his head in amazement. The fennec was the most adorable creature he had ever seen. “You know, I always wanted a fennec. Even more after I lost Bracelets.”
    Janny lowered a cup from her mouth. “Bracelets?”
    “Had a snake. She had bands, red and black. Or maybe 'he.' No way to know.” He smiled, remembering the smooth feel of her scales. “Slept curled around my arm.”
    Hiresha rested her head against the side of her hand. “Why would you keep a snake?”
    “Well,” Chandur said, “her tongue could tickle your cheek.”
    The maid pretended to gag. “If you like snake kisses so much, you should've bought yourself another fanged missy.”
    He had often thought of it. “Wasn't sure the time was right.”
    “Snakes are seasonal?” The maid pinched his arm. “Like mangos?”
    Chandur worried he might not be meant to buy a snake. Perhaps he was supposed to own a bird, a fennec, or nothing. He wished the Priest of the Fate Weaver could have given him a longer reading, could have told him exactly what the goddess had designed his future to hold. Life expected far too many decisions from him.
    He said, “If someone gave me a snake, then I'd know it was fated.”
    Janny threw him a strange look.
    Hiresha asked, “Did your snake eat rats?”
    “Yeah, if I killed them first,” he said.
    “Why,” Hiresha asked, “keep something with no purpose?”
    Sometimes the enchantress’ mannerisms puzzled Chandur. He looked across to Janny for help, but she was exchanging glances with a man wearing silver-fennec jewelry. “Well,” he said, “haven't you ever had a pet?”
    “I had a baby goat, once,” Hiresha said. “She would've produced milk, but I fell asleep and an eagle pecked out her eyes. To punish me, my mother made me kill the goat myself. I was six. I could barely lift the mallet.”
    Chandur was disturbed, once by her story and twice by her quiet voice in telling it. She sounded like she was falling asleep again. It both troubled and impressed him that she never seemed farther than a few breaths from sleep. He had to lean closer to hear her murmuring.
    “Cannot have goats before you're ready. Have to plan. Everything in its proper place and time. Such a shame, my wedding