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ome brash young men nearly ride over the seeming widow as she makes her way back to the guesthouse. Her brother Yasefe and most of the other caravaneers are still there, their voices louder than before, the reek of wine upon their breaths. Even those who have become accustomed to Yasmaili's daytime visits look away from her, uninterested. She hears Yasefe saying to one of his companions, "A rich and bounteous city, is she not? It is fortunate that trade in--" At that moment, a richly dressed woman, her wrists and neck sparkling with ornaments, sweeps over to Yasmaili and says, "Your life must have known better times, old woman. Would you perform a service for me, in return for a gift of gratitude?" Meaningfully, she twists one of her bracelets. Probably glass and crystal, Yasmaili judges, but the artistry is unmistakable: a pattern of falcons worked upon a bronze band. It is not uncommon for the lords and ladies of Harava to seek out "anonymous" messengers in their games of intrigue, thus also fulfilling their pious duties. But beneath the veil, this woman is not of desert blood; and hidden amid the mass of jewellery is a tiny silver pin in the shape of a barbed cross--the spellsworn's cross. Spellsworn-- a fellow mage, and one with real power! Yasmaili's attention is irrevocably caught. "As the gracious lady wishes," she says in a quavery voice. "What service can I do?"
Back: Yasmaili's Prologue 3 Sun image provided by Clipart Castle.
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