@Ramesses was busy mollifying his cuckquean fiancee, so jawahir could not seek him out directly.
they lingered by maggie's resting place, within an alcove lined with dry grass which smelled like a stable - stale and heavy with animal scent.
worrying at a length of bone, dark eyes watched the goings-on within the atrium and spied the hallway opening, biding their time.
jawahir had left their meeting.
akashingo stood.
a moment from the side of the queen brought tamar in soft return to the place where the woman was kept.
jawahir was present now. tamar said nothing, only sank down to her haunches.
a shrinking thing crept near. not flouncing in the manner of maggie. not prowling like a man, or a wolf.
jawahir chewed heartily with their molars against the cap of the bone. the stranger settled.
pulling away from the pock-marked shaft of bone, they murmur, marhaban akhti.
their eyes do not leave the floor.
it had been a long while since the time of these words.
at first tamar did not recognize them. and then they touched her tongue like honey cake. "iinah yawm mushriqa."
her people had wandered. their language was many words. it was how she had come up.
tamar looked at the bone and was quiet once more.
despite the intrigue of hearing their words returned, jawahir scoffs.
nukhfi ruuwsana fi alramali. yamutun fi juhurna.
these men. talk, talk, talk, is all they do. plot and think and measure one another, playing games while their lessers suffer.
jawahir cannot hold back the bitter cough of laughter. and see, you serve them so well!
tamar carried many scents, but it was the shabti that incised jawahir so.
jawahir had thoughts for war. tamar had none.
she blinked. "you do not mean to compliment me." did jawahir think less of her that she was dutiful?
tamar drew herself together more tightly and looked at what remained of maggie.
letting the bone roll from their grip, to clatter upon the floor.
is that what fuels you, fellahin? if i sing your praises will that make your time servicing any wolf better?
rhetorical. dark eyes turning sharp.
jawahir waves at the passing red gleam of arsenio pacing the hall. akashingo is small and can be dominated if there is the will to do so.
a look at tamar; watched to see where her eyes went.
clearly this one lacked such power.
"i have not lain with a wolf since i have been here."
her voice became a sunburnt thorn. tamar knew jawahir could not say the same.
the jewel was truly striking. the girl found her eyes drawn back. "you already have such power."
so you let them take, take, take.
jawahir sneers. you do not take anything for yourself.
they shared a look between them, one that jawahir would not break from, feeling themselves imperious beside this slave girl. that's what she was — unwilling or unable to wreste any power for herself, accepting her lot.
you do not belong here.
those dark eyes fell upon the alcove where maggie lay. jawahir would give anything to spend another day with the obnoxious harlot, or hear her laughter explode from any room.
the time would come, soon, that the petal was laid to rest.
do you not fancy pharaoh? or what of the man-servant to the shabti?
jawahir rolls the bone so that it smacks at tamar, brows raised.
"i do not desire pharaoh. he desires me."
her voice wavered, thinking of how the tall man watched her with a great hunger. it was as if he waited for her. his eyes saw everything. perhaps they saw to the core of her.
the guard. tamar dropped her eyes beneath jawahir's intensity. "the queen wants her maids chaste. are you saying i should go to pharaoh?"
i live for pharaoh. his happiness is my happiness,
jawahir lanced sharply with their words, but faltered when they saw how tamar had bowed and grown small, then smiled ruefully.
the queen does not know what she wants.
if jawahir could find a way to separate satsu from her maiden, from everyone, it would be a good day.
"hadha almakan mali' bial'aleabi."
tamar's voice was swift and hushed. it was an honor to speak these words again. she did not want anyone else to hear her.
"tahadath maei mubasharatan, jawharatan."
urid ma yueta laha bihuriyatan.
urid 'an yakun alfalaahin mutasawin mae man yakhdimunahumu. 'urid 'an 'akun 'afdal minhum aydan , lakin la yumkinuni fiel hadhih al'ashya' bimufradi. maji kan min almuftarad 'an tusaeidani fi hadha. hi tkun...
an empty husk, the first casualty to a pointless war.
ant takhdim almalikat taeal 'iilaya eindama la takun maeaha falnabtakir hayatan jadidatan li'anfusna.
it was not an offer but a demand, and now jawahir's features became like that of a zealot, a mad grin that dissipated before anyone else could see.
you can use it, leverage it.]'iinaha ghayr salihat li'an takun malikatan. 'aelam 'anaha tukrihuna , watukrih nisf alsulalat , walakin hunak aydan sirun taharub minhu. yumkinuni 'iikhbaruk - yumkinuk astikhdamuh waliastifadat minhi.
the words ran along swift and cunning.
jawahir spoke of treason. or as much of it as tamar could understand. betrayal. her pale eyes remained fixed to the favourite of ramesses all the while.
there was a long silence when the explanation, and the promise, had ended.
"ladayk fireawna. limadha tahtajuni." she did not yet trust. jawahir lived above the fellahin. why now the move to take?
but in her heart, she wanted to know this secret.
jawahir spoke plainly in their shared language, tongue a whip of fire, eyes embroidered with rings of ambergris; close and cunning.
she thinks herself above us for her wolf blood, for her lord father.
a madness seeped through their gaze, warm and thrilled with the secret.
but the man she calls her father is not. i have known that pitiful girl for far longer than anyone, and she is one of us! less than, you could say, because her blood is worse off than even ours!
drawing back again, as if nothing had happened. carrying the bone to work upon with their teeth.
the queen was not wolf!
tamar blinked in horror and disbelief. how had she ascended so far? why did she lord over them if she knew such things?
the maid's face closed. "if what you say is true, then pharaoh does not know." again in their words.
jawahir pauses in their chewing to huff.
if he knows, he keeps the secret.
but they do not suspect this is something that ramesses is aware of, or if he truly would care that his queen was as vermin-blood as those that serve her.
they look to the doorway of the hall, where some shape is moving about, just out of reach. red fur; arsenio.
words come for tamar's ear only.
i have heard her speak openly of her father but not of her mother.
the courtesan's face is passive now, her lips barely moving, in case the guard's eyes wander; but it should not matter, he is not taught their words, and he is only a fisherman's son.
will you use what you have learned, sister?
watching tamar now, intently.
arsenio's closeness made tamar shrink into herself.
jawahir continued speaking! he would not know what they were saying but he might hear their voices.
"for my freedom," the autumnal girl hissed in their tongue. "and arsenio sees more than you realize. do not speak so freely." why had the roman man put him at the queen's door?
he must be on their side. she must make it so. but before this, she must have her contract ended.
a smirk curls the edges of jawahir's features before sliding away, returning their face to something impassive, almost bored.
i do not care what he sees or hears, he does not watch me the way he watches you.
which would make the girl's bid for freedom a little more difficult. was arsenio truly loyal to akashingo, or to his own desires? perhaps he cared for tamar in more ways than his eyes let on; but for jawahir, the guard was merely another lascivious creature to be pleased or ignored.
a call comes from further up the hallway. satsu's voice.
smugly, jawahir waves at the door, there, your lady awaits.
then they tuck in to their bone, returning to their gnawing as if the madness of the conversation had not transpired.
it would be entertaining to see how tamar dealt with this new power.
tamar was struck and had nothing to say.
in a furl of red she pulled away and was gone.
jawahir's words raked her spine.