“You will see,” he replied quietly then bent, I heard water splashing and he came back to me with a wet cloth. “We will bathe properly later. But you must see now and Dortak does not share this with us.”
Then he set about tenderly washing the blood from my skin and I saw that he’d already done it to himself.
I came up on my elbows and started, “Lahn –”
His eyes went from my chest to mine. “Quiet, my golden doe.”
His strange tone and that gorgeous look on his face which hadn’t faded made me quiet. He didn’t wash off all the paint but he made certain to wash off all the blood. Then he dropped the cloth in a bucket by the bed, scooped me up and put me on my feet. He walked to grab my robe from where it was hanging on the back of a chair. He was already in hides. He held it out for me; I slipped my arms through and tied it around my waist.
Then he took my hand and guided me to and through the cham flaps.
I saw it was just dawn; the Daxshee was still, most were asleep.
With his hand in mine, he took me around the cham to the back where the creek flowed passed.
But I saw it before I got there and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
All along the banks of the creek was a riot of flowers like the one I’d put on Mahyah’s pyre. They had been there before but not nearly as many and most of those had been cut by the Korwahk to give to Mahyah. Now, those cut blooms had been replaced, overnight, and their number had more than tripled.
And they weren’t just the vibrant orange of the bloom I gave Mahyah but also there were white, yellow and scarlet, as far as the eye could see, trailing along the edges of the creek. The willows dotted along the sides drooped their bowed branches, the ends dipping into the gentle flow of water.
It was astoundingly beautiful.
Lahn stopped me on the rise behind our cham just up from the creek and pulled my back to his front, one hand on my belly, the other arm slanted across my chest, hand curled around my neck the same as he had held me to him on his horse when we were riding.
I vaguely noticed that there were people about, not many, here and there on our side of the creek and on the opposite one, all of them silent, all of them staring at the spectacle.
Then Lahn bent so his mouth was at my ear and he spoke quietly as he pressed my belly lightly.
“I see we did not make a warrior last night. My golden goddess, I would hope, would not create a riot of flowers if my seed produced a warrior.” His voice dropped, his hand pressed deeper and his arm tensed. “We made a daughter.”
A shiver slid across my skin at his words, another one following when it dawned on me he was not disappointed at the thought of a girl… not at all.
He touched his mouth to the skin of my neck then his head lifted and he rested his jaw at the top of my hair and held me as I stared at what he thought I created.
Then something unbelievably cool happened.
Without me thinking them, memories sifted through my head.
Lahn relenting when I wanted Ghost.
Lahn lifting me to his back to carry me to the games.
Lahn grinning down at me the first time I drank the zakah.
Lahn holding me while I was trembling with sunstroke.
Lahn preparing medicine for me and holding it to my lips to drink.
Lahn checking on me during the day after I was sick.
Lahn giving me Zephyr.
Lahn holding me on his horse, asking me about my mother, my father, telling me I was beautiful, explaining to me how my claiming, something that had been hideous for me, had been, to him, a gift he held precious.
Lahn’s eyes holding mine, asking nonverbally if I was all right after Dortak extended his challenge.
Lahn taking care of me after Mahyah’s death.