The Shattered Chain Read Online Free PDF Page A

from sleeping; Jalak is indulgent with girl-children if they are pretty ones, and allotted her a room to her own use, with a nurse there. It is at the far end of the royal children’s suite, and looks out on an inner courtyard filled with blackfruit trees.”
    She anticipated Kindra’s next question, saying, “I have the plan of the building so clear in my mind that I could draw it for you from memory.”
    Kindra laughed and said, “Truly, Lady, you would make a Free Amazon someday! Perhaps it is our loss that you did not choose our way, after all.” She went to the women still in the booth, saying in an undertone, “Sell what you can; but what cannot be sold by nightfall, be prepared to abandon. Do not strike the booth; if we leave it standing they will expect us to be here come morning. Be sure the horses we used as pack animals are ready to be saddled for Melora and her daughter. … ”
    That afternoon seemed endless to Rohana. The worst of it lay in that she must behave exactly as usual—or at least as near to usual as was possible for her, here in the Dry Towns, far from her accustomed ways of occupying herself. She tried not to fidget visibly, knowing it would only disturb the Amazons, who seemed quite calm, selling their wares, tending their animals, idling around the camp. And yet, as the afternoon wore on, it seemed to her that she could see small signs that they were not, after all, quite so indifferent as they seemed to the coming battle. Camilla sat cross-legged at the back of the booth, sharpening her great knife to a razor edge, whistling an odd, tuneless little melody that, after a time, began to set Rohana’s teeth on edge. Kindra sat drawing patterns again and again in the sand and quickly rubbing them out again with the toe of her boot. Rohana wondered how Melora was passing the time, but resisted the temptation to follow her in thought. If Melora could take some rest before sunset, let her do so, by all means!
    How will she travel? She looks not more than three days from her time — if so much!
    Slowly, slowly, the great red sun declined toward the hills. It seemed to Rohana that no day in her lifetime had worn away so wearily, with every hour stretching into lifetimes. Not even the day my second son was born, when I seemed to lie for hours stretched on a rack of pain tearing me asunder … even then, something could be done. Now I can only wait, and wait … and wait. …
    Kindra said quietly, as she passed, “This day must seem longer still for your kinswoman, Lady,” and Rohana tried to smile. That, at least, was true.
    “Pray to your Goddess that the Lady Melora does not go into labor this day,” Kindra said. “That would be the end of hope. We might still rescue her daughter, but if the Great House was ablaze with lights, mid-wives running here and there to attend to her … even that would be made more difficult than we could manage.”
    Rohana drew a deep breath of apprehension. And she is so near to her time. …
    She tried to form, in her heart, a prayer to the Blessed Cassilda, Mother of the Seven Domains; but her prayer seemed to hang on the dead air, waiting, like everything else. …
    And yet, as all things mortal must, even the day wore to an end. The Dry-Town women, veiled and chained, came to buy water at the well, and again they lingered, fascinated even through their scorn, to watch the Amazons moving about, tending their horses, cooking their meal. Rohana offered what help she could; it was easier if her hands were busy. She watched the Dry-Town women come and go in the marketplace, thinking of Melora, her hands weighted by the jeweled chains, her body weighted with Jalak’s hated child. She had been so light and quick, as a girl, so frolicsome and laughing …
    They finished their meal, and Kindra signaled to Rafaella to take her harp, strike a few chords. She said in an undertone, “Come in close, and listen; act as if you were only listening to the music.”
    Rohana