Reluctant Concubine Read Online Free PDF Page A

me around, then combed through my hair with her slim fingers. “I will make your maiden’s braid.”
    All the girls I had seen that morning had their hair in one long braid down their back. Kumra wore hers woven into the shape of a crown around her head.
    Onra separated my hair into three equal parts and began to work the strands with quick fingers. “Slave girls wear their hair in two braids, one on each side. When they reach womanhood, they switch to a single braid like mine. After leaving Maiden Hall to go back to Servant House, their hair is cut short. Concubines keep their hair long to make into pretty weaves to please our lord.”
    She drew the leather cord from the end of her own braid to tie mine.
    When she finished, she said, “You have pretty hair, like black silk. And eyes to match. Be careful of Kumra.”
    She grabbed a blanket from her cot and pulled four long pieces of wool yarn from it. “We should make you a charm belt.”
    I glanced at hers, made of simple yarn and decorated with small wood carvings, nothing like Kumra’s gold and crystal.
    “I do not know this custom.”
    Her fingers flew as she braided the belt. “Fire, earth, water, air,” she named each strand. “They offer protection from bad luck. Better if you have charms. Better even if the charm is made by the soothsayer, but for that you would have to pay.”
    She pulled a reddish pebble from the folds of her dress, kissed it on one side, spit on the other, wrapped a piece of yarn around it, then tied it to the belt.
    “Here.” Onra held up the finished piece and helped me fit it around my waist. “I drew the pebble from the creek. It might be lucky for you. The creek gave you the beetles that helped you heal your wound.”
    I nodded, although I did not completely follow her logic. But she seemed happy to have protected me so neatly, and I did not want to ruin even that little joy in her day.
    When she was finished, she stood with sudden determination. “I need to go and prepare. The goddesses protect you, Tera.”
    She walked to the small door that connected our room to the rest of the house and, without another word, disappeared through it.
    I stared after her for a long time.
    I vowed never to follow that path. For myself, for Onra, and for my mother’s memory, I swore to the spirits to escape from this unbearable place and find my way back to my own people.
    But first, I would find out how my mother had died in this terrible land and recite the Last Blessing over her grave.
    * * *
    The Kadar battle feast seemed the same and yet completely different from our Shahala celebrations. People joked, sang, ate like any people coming together. Except for the slaves who served the warriors and their concubines.
    The servants came in a steady stream from outside, bringing heaping trays of food from the kitchen. Each tray stopped at a stone table at the head of the Great Hall. Giant swords carved from stone made up the table’s legs, their tips resting on the ground. The swords’ handles supported the table top, a large stone shield.
    Carved symbols covered both the swords and the shield, angular and resembling slim arrowheads that pointed in every direction. But their pattern seemed orderly in a way—maybe some kind of writing.
    Onto this stone table the servants placed a small portion of food from each tray before serving the rest to Tahar and his people. I sat in another room with the rest of the maidens, about fifty of us, watching the feast through veiled windows.
    Darkness enveloped our room, while a multitude of oil lamps and torches lit the Great Hall; thus we could see them, but they could not see us. Nobody even glanced in our direction, even though they must have known we were there.
    A stalwart man sat at the head of the table, his large upper body covered in formfitting, hardened leather. The wide panes of his weatherworn face glowed with color from the wine. As all deferred to him, I knew he must be our Lord Tahar.
    Only men