The Garden of Stones - By Mark T. Barnes Page 0,87

with white. Mari saw sorrow writ on her father’s face, blended with the furrows of his physical pain.

“Daughter,” he replied, not ungently. “You are well?”

“I am, thank you. I wanted to say I was sorry,” she murmured. “Sorry for disappointing you. I know you’ve only ever wanted what was best for me.”

“And all it took was being beaten to near death by your former comrades to remember it?” She saw he regretted the words as soon as he said them; his expression was crestfallen. “Mariam, I…”

“I don’t expect you to understand why I’ve done what I’ve done. Perhaps you might never forget, but do you think you can forgive?” Her father raised his chin in defiance. There was a hardness in his gaze she knew well, and she cursed herself for a fool. It had always been this way between them, even when she was a child. Mari had ever been her mother’s daughter. “Just as I can’t forget what you asked of me. But I can forgive. In time.”

Farouk appeared at the door and eyed her with silent disdain. His hand, never far from his long-knife, seemed to fondle the hilt with the tenderness of a lover. Corajidin gestured for Farouk to remain where he was. Mari suppressed a smile.

“I’m here because I want to try,” she said. “My career with the Feyassin is over. We should be closer than we’ve been of late, you and I.”

Mari felt her anxiety rise. Despite her smiles she had defied his will. Her opposition in the matter of Vashne’s murder. Her liaison with Indris, which her father, Yasha, and Belam would no doubt worry over like wolves over a carcass. Her father had once said, in the throes of alcohol and rage, her obstinacy would ruin her and the Great House of Erebus. Mari knew she had not been the obedient daughter her father had hoped for. She had brought fame and honor to her family because it benefited her first. Choosing a life of action and independence, she had not had sealed strategic alliances through marriage to her father’s allies. She had a list of scandals to her name in failed love affairs with women and men her father considered beneath her, drunken revels, reckless gambling, and other displays that had made her father wince in shame.

“What do you propose?” Corajidin gestured for her and Farouk to walk with him toward his chambers. His tone was cautious. There was an old adage her father had often used: when the gold seems too bright, one needs to wonder whether it is gold at all.

“What do you want of me?” She looked down at her feet as she walked, the easier to mask the distaste she felt at the pride she bartered. Her father needed to see how much she was willing to sacrifice.

Farouk snorted. “Convenient this comes at a time when you’ve nowhere else to go, Pah-Mariam.” Corajidin frowned at Farouk’s tone. He shot a sidelong glance at the man, who had the good grace to avert his eyes.

“You disagreed with my actions against Vashne.” Her father’s voice sounded rough. His skin was pale, sheened as the belly of a fish. “You support the disbanding of the armies. You’re not even an Imperialist. Mariam, it would be better for you if you weren’t in Amnon at all. There’s nothing here for you.”

“Then let me offer you this.” Mari took one of his damp hands in hers and raised it to her lips. She kissed his signet ring, as any vassal would their liege. “While I was healing at Samyala, I overheard Nazarafine, Femensetri, Siamak, and Kembe of the Tau-se. They look for evidence you were involved in Vashne’s death, as well as Ariskander’s disappearance. They’re prepared to do everything in their power to oppose you.”

He laughed bitterly. “I expect there are a number of people ready to oppose me. Surely you can do better?”

“Nehrun is done with waiting for you to honor your commitment to him—”

“I owe that craven little peacock nothing!” Corajidin snarled. “It was Nehrun who approached me with his scheme to remove his father from power.”

“Regardless, he and a cohort of his men tried to abduct me—”

Her father reached out to touch her, concern on his face. Yet his hand stopped before it reached its destination. “Yet you are here and not in Nehrun’s custody. What else do you have?”

She pursed her lips, hesitant for a moment. If only she had been able to cry at will! Instead, Mari