‘ trahyoo’.”
“Oh,” I whispered and she put the pin down. Then I asked softly,
“And mayoo? ”
I watched her profile smile a smile I knew was knowing even getting only half of it. “An order again. Faster. ”
Shit. Well, I was right about that one.
“You would say mayay if you were not commanding it,” she explained further.
“Right,” I said softly then I mumbled, “Um…” I picked up a set of gold bangles inlaid with tiny seed pearls and continued, “and, uh… what does… lapah meer-something kah lira anahl mean?”
I felt her eyes on me. “Lapah meer… kah lira anahl?”
I looked to her. “Um… I think so.”
Her head tipped to the side in confusion and Sheena piped up to suggest, “Lapoo meera kah liros anah. Anah, Loola. Anah, ” she finished with emphasis, my eyes swung back to Diandra and I saw light had dawned.
“Yes, lapoo meera kah liros anah. This means ‘is between my legs tonight’.” Diandra explained and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as my stomach clenched, Diandra saw the pink instantly, smiled gently and got close. “Not what you’re thinking,” she said softly.
“The men gather tonight. Tomorrow, the Dax is choosing his new warriors. Tonight, the men will celebrate as only men can – being loud, drinking a lot and watching warriors beat each other half to death.”
I felt the blood that rushed to my face drain away and Diandra caught that too so she shook her head.
“No, Dahksahna Circe, it isn’t like that. It’s sport. Or, they think it is. It’s harmless. That isn’t to say warriors don’t get beaten bloody but they want it and like it. They train for it. A test of strength, endurance. They like to show off and it helps to settle the order of
things, who is strongest, who needs to get stronger, who is faster, who needs to get faster, who is more tactical, who needs to learn strategy. And the others who do not participate enjoy it with much enthusiasm. That said, Seerim has long since stopped taking me. I, on the other hand, don’t enjoy it. The warrior wives don’t.” She got closer. “And, my dear, the good thing is, not many men allow their women in, wanting their wives to be with them while they commune with their brethren.” Her eyes got bright. “And it is very rare indeed, so rare I have never heard of it, that a new warrior husband would honor his bride with wanting her attendance. It usually takes months, even years and sometimes doesn’t happen at all.” My heart skipped a beat but then it stopped altogether when she finished,
“And when you attend, you sit on the ground between his legs.”
I stared at her.
Great. Just great.
“I sit on the ground? ” I asked and she nodded. “Between his legs? ” I went on to clarify and she smiled.
“It isn’t what you think,” she told me and I looked to the bangles.
“Oh yes it is,” I mumbled and her hand came to my chin, pulling it up so I would look into her understanding eyes.
“It is for some of the warriors, my dear, just what you think,” she said quietly. “For others, it is a way of being close to a loved one while enjoying something he likes very much.” She leaned in. “For a king and his long awaited bride, taking her to the games just five short days after he claimed her, my guess is, it’s the latter.”
I stared at her again and breathed, “He doesn’t love me.”
Her head tipped to the side and her lips tipped up.
“It is said, throughout history, that many a great warrior, in fact, the strongest and fiercest, have fallen in love with their brides simply by gazing upon them in the parade.” Her hand slid over my cheek and she suggested, “Perhaps this has happened to you.”
I thought about that morning. I thought about the last four days. I thought she was very wrong.
Then I stated, “I don’t think so.”
Her hand dropped, she stepped away and turned back to the trinkets. Then she said to the trinkets, “Many a Wife Hunt has gone by where King Lahn has watched the parade and let it pass him by.
His people have waited for years for him to claim his bride. A warrior, any warrior but a warrior like King Lahn especially, has not developed a vast array of feelings. They war. They pillage. They plunder. They fight. They train. They do not form close alliances with their brethren for there are many opportunities for them to fall.
They are rarely, in some cases never touched by kindness, a soft hand, a warm gaze and most certainly not before they’re wed.” Her eyes turned to me and locked on mine. “Many humans do not need that, can live their entire lives without it, but some cannot and fewer still of those are warriors.” She paused. “But they exist.”
At that, to cover how what she said made me feel, I blurted,
“What does Lahnahsahna mean?”
She smiled. “It means ‘tigress’, my dear.”
“Tigress?”
She nodded and went on. “And ‘Lahn’ means ‘tiger’. He was named ‘tiger’ by his warrior father, who was, incidentally, also a Dax. Before he challenged and bested the Dax who bested his father, and even now, King Lahn was and is known as The Tiger because he is ferocious, clever and strong in battle. He declared you at the wedding rite, as his tigress. Obviously the perfect mate for the tiger and, I will say, it seemed quite clear with the way he said it that it meant little to him that you were claimed as his Dahksahna, even his rahna Dahksahna. But far, far more that he claimed you as his Lahnahsahna. He was not always the Dax but he was born The Tiger, it is who he is, it is who he will always be.”
Okay, I had to admit she was right. It definitely was clear that meant a lot to him. More than a lot. A lot, a lot.
“And kah Lahnahsahna?” I asked quietly.
“My tigress,” she answered quietly.
Oh my.
I looked away and changed the subject quickly before my heart could beat out-of-control.
