Ashamet, Desert Born by Terry Jackman

Ashamet, Desert Born by Terry Jackman

Author:Terry Jackman [Jackman, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonwell Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 29

To tell you the truth, I forget a lot of that night. There was some gambling. I remember that part. Games sprang up as usual at one end of the hall. The table I sat in on escalated from a rowdy game of Hound and Chicken to a fierce, full-blown game of Conquest, every hazard tile included. It engendered heavy betting, both from players and the circle of spectators.

I was doing well till someone talked me into going off to watch the jugglers. Sidassi, someone said, and very skilful. I remember tossing silver and applauding. Then Kadduchi fire-eaters ran onto the floor, their dance accompa-nied by war drums and the clash of cymbals. Stirring stuff, except they turned the hall into an oven. By the time I got back to the table I’d had a fair bit more to drink, I supposed. At any rate I realized my ability to weigh the odds had shortened. I pushed up from the table. Most of the guests were gone anyway. Come to think, a lot of them had come to bid me goodnight. I’d forgotten. I was only fit for bed, I thought, then thought of bed and found I’d giggled.

“Ye gods!” I said out loud, or something like it. My balance was off too, and worsening by the minute. I lurched into someone, who cursed until they realized who’d hit them.

“My prince? Are you all right?” The question echoed, but I recognized the speaker. Sheshman’s fruity tones were getting quite familiar.

“Fine,” I said, “I’m fine.” I laughed and left him.

Sounds grew muffled after that. I walked through blinding lights, then darkened passages. The centre of the palace, left in darkness? Shadows lengthened till it grew so dark I couldn’t see where I was going and the way grew narrow. I was in a maze of tunnels. There were booming noises. Fortunately someone, not sure who, was helping me along them. Pretty useful having someone there to lean on. Tried to say so but the words got mangled. Sounds were tangling up as well; the dark was full of flashing colors then a voice raised, giving booming orders. “Medi?” I said doubtfully. It looked like Medi but he rippled, and he didn’t sound right.

“Indeed, my prince. All’s well. The stairs are this way.”

Was it well though? I tripped. His face expanded. Some while after that my bed appeared. It spun, and tilted. Black silk. Perfumed but with something sour and horrid, musty green and purple. Being horizontal made my head swim too. Now where…

“My lord?” The grey eyes anxious.

“Keril.” Something moved between us. “Keril?” I said urgently. He reappeared. For a second there I’d had the strangest notion… “Did you leave me?”

“No, my lord, I’m here, always. Are—are you ill?” I had relaxed by then but he seemed bothered.

“No, course not, ’m just—” I concentrated on not slurring. “Drunk. That’s all.” I managed that quite clearly.

“My lord, are you sure? Lord Sheshman sent us word. He says—”

“Too much to drink. Not clever, but regreb— regrettably normal.



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