Queen of Slaves (The Powers of Amur Book 4) by J.S. Bangs

Author:J.S. Bangs [Bangs, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

Mandhi

Jhumitu crawled across the packed clay floor of the clan lodge and found a stray piece of straw fallen from the thatch. He rolled onto his back and stuck it into his mouth, chewing happily on the straw and gurgling at the ceiling. Tisking furiously, an elderly Kaleksha woman strolled across the stones and picked him up, plucking the straw from his mouth and scolding him in Kaleksha. In place of the straw she gave him a denuded lamb’s rib, which he stuck into his mouth and gnawed with unabated enthusiasm.

Hrenge os Dramab. Jhumitu’s grandmother. Taleg’s mother. Mandhi’s mother-in-law.

It was hard for Mandhi to grasp it. Mandhi could only pronounce the name Hrenge with the greatest difficulty. But Hrenge doted on the little boy with all the care that Mandhi expected from an Amuran grandmother and more. The fact that she and her clan were effectively hostages of Mandhi’s mercenaries didn’t seem to bother her at all. She slept in the lodge, and every morning Mandhi and Aryaji would come to the clan lodge and find Hrenge making breakfast, eager to kiss her grandson and serve Mandhi and Aryaji with boiled sheep’s milk and fried wheat cakes.

“He has more teeth coming in,” Shadle said, translating some portion of her mother’s monologue.

“I know, he bites me when I pick him up,” Mandhi said. Jhumitu already had a pair of little white incisors piercing his upper gums, like chips of marble that glittered when he smiled.

Shadle chuckled. She repeated Mandhi’s words for Hrenge, who murmured something and disappeared into the rear of the clan lodge for a moment carrying Jhumitu at her waist. She returned with a greasy-smelling jar which she set on the table in front of Mandhi.

Mandhi opened the jar and peered inside. A semi-solid, glistening cream waited inside. Hrenge rattled off some sort of explanation.

“Something for your fingers if they hurt,” Shadle translated. “Sheep tallow and honey.”

“Thank you,” Mandhi said quietly.

She admitted that she liked having Taleg’s mother around. She had never enjoyed this kind of grandmotherly care before. Her own mother had died when Mandhi was very young, and the nearest thing she’d had to a mother in the House of the Ruin was Amashi’s chilly oversight. Mandhi had benefited from Aryaji’s care in Davrakhanda, but Aryaji was a maid, not a mother.

She glanced aside at the girl. Aryaji sat on a bench at the end of the table spinning wool. A girl’s task, but the maid seemed content enough to do girl’s work and let Hrenge take over the duties of childcare and looking after Mandhi.

The door of the clan lodge opened, sending a shaft of noon daylight through the gloom of the lodge. Jauda and Nakhur appeared in silhouette at the door, then the darkness returned and their footsteps sounded on the clay floor.

“We’d like to speak to you, Mandhi,” Nakhur said. He greeted Shadle and Hrenge with a brief nod. His hand rested on his niece’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Mandhi said. She reached and plucked Jhumitu from Hrenge’s grasp and turned toward the men.

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