Her lip brushed Hu’s earlobe and they touched for the last time:Īnd with grim joy Tain Hu whispered back: “Long live the queen.” Into her ear Baru whispered one word in Urun, the tongue of Tain Hu’s blood.
She stepped closer, quick, like an assassin gutting the duchess, and with her right hand she grabbed a fistful of Hu’s hair. She grinned and Baru couldn’t stand that grin on that fierce unbreakable face. And the air between them shivered, like steppe grass under silver cloud, with the charge of their grief and their resolve. Now Baru came close to offer her the manacles that would kill her. “I will remember,” Baru hissed through raw-bitten lips.
Remember the man in the iron circlet, and the ledger of secrets.” She gave Baru her arsenal, and her hope, and her faith. Until the dawn hours Tain Hu had whispered hoarse strategy to Baru: the names of her agents, and the shape of her plans.
The Duchess Tain Hu smelled of brine and cold stone and the onions of her last meal. AT sunrise Baru shackled the prisoner for her drowning.
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