Desert Rains by Jill Penrod

Author:Jill Penrod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian fantasy, historic fantasy, Christian romance, Christian fiction
Publisher: Jill Penrod
Published: 2014-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

When he arrived home and Alandro and Ragen were gone, Banar walked to the bakery, where many customers bought rolls and tarts for their dinners. He smiled a greeting at Ragen, who stood at the counter, and she waved him to the back, where Alandro scrubbed his dishes and put away his ingredients. The babe fussed quietly in a basket by the back door.

“Banar, TrueGod blesses your timing. Can you hold Frans a moment?”

“Frans?” Banar said, picking up the tiny child. As soon as he felt Banar’s arms, he quieted, sucking on his fist.

Alandro rolled his eyes. “She named him after my father. Not a good name for an Agridore, but she felt strongly.”

“Frans,” Banar said, looking at the dark face. The priests had tried to take life from this child, and yet here he lay in the arms of a beggar, both of them whole when they were meant to be broken.

Banar continued to hold him while Alandro and Ragen closed the bakery. As usual, a few rolls had been set aside for their meal, and soon they walked through the darkening streets toward home. Alandro paid for three servings of spiced pigeon and wild onions, and they all sat on the benches in the courtyard and ate, Frans asleep in the basket at Ragen’s feet.

“I spoke with my brother today,” Banar said. “He is concerned about the Kahla, thinking he has some plan to do harm. He wants to be priest, king, and god in Alagor. Hasanah feels he grows more dangerous daily.”

Alandro frowned deeply. “He’s giving AnnaLynn to one of his sons as a concubine.”

“What? I thought Yarrow wanted to take her to Crotoa and free her.”

Ragen and Alandro exchanged a small smile. “Yes, I said the same when they told me. Both the girls believe Yarrow will not agree to the Kahla’s new nuptial terms. I hope they’re right. I won’t let her become a concubine. No girl should become a concubine. It’s almost more humane to bury a girl child in the dirt than to let her become a concubine.”

Alandro spit the words with deep anger, and Banar was surprised.

“A concubine who worships the Alagor god has a chance of meeting TrueGod and trusting for her life,” Ragen said, looking at her husband from beneath long lashes. “The child in the mud has no such hope. Why do you hate concubines so fiercely, Alandro?”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate concubines at all. Fathers sending their infants to pits and their girl children to entertain men in temples—I find myself angry with all of them. How can a whole city be so blind?”

Ragen looked at Banar with her eyebrows raised, and then she changed the subject, speaking of Frans and their visit with Anna and Malia. Alandro continued to eat, but he said little, and when the meal was finished he offered to take the horse to the nearest well to fill their bucket.

“It isn’t safe,” Banar said. “Right now citizens hate both foreigners and those wealthy enough to keep horses.

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