The Third Scroll by Dana Marton Read Free Book Online

cutting through the hills to the next port for a ship, but home would have to wait. Despite Talmir’s warnings, I still wanted to find my mother’s grave.
    In the next few days, he saved me some food, and I selected two of the largest wool rags that covered my pallet to take with me. I snatched bits and pieces of cloth wherever I could, to stuff under the rags I planned on leaving behind.
    The girls fell asleep fast after coming in each night. I just had to make a lump on my cot so when Kumra came to lock the door she would think all were inside. I would hide in the women’s latrines until the whole house quieted, then run, evading the guards.
    I timed it for a night when both of the moons would be waning. Darkness, like Talmir, would be my friend and speed me to freedom.
    By the time the last day arrived, I had everything but a veil. I leapt to my feet the moment the door banged open in the morning, asking the spirits for help. I waited as Kumra gave instructions to all the other girls, then stopped in front of my pallet.
    “You are coming with me.” For the first time, she sounded tired.
    I kept the sudden joy from showing on my face and shuffled after her to the small door with meek obedience, as if the key to my freedom had not just been handed to me. I wondered what she wanted me to clean now and imagined all the most disgusting tasks. I would have happily done all of them and more.
    But once I stepped through the door, I forgot about the chores, even about my plans to escape. For Pleasure Hall was nothing like I had expected, not like Maiden Hall at all.
    Silk pictures of naked men and women in strange poses covered the walls, painted in rich colors so full of life the images seemed to be moving. I turned my head in embarrassment. My feet sank into a carpet, soft and thick as shirl moss. Then a round pool in the middle of the round hall drew my gaze, and I stared slack-jawed at the steam rising from it.
    I could not gawk long, as I had to keep up with Kumra, who hurried along without paying the least attention to the beauty around us. In passing, I admired the graceful reclining benches covered in luscious fabrics, the richly carved low tables, and their bowls of fruit and sweets.
    Before me spread a world so strange and beautiful it belonged in a dream, although I was not sure if even in my dreams I could have conceived of it.
    Pleasure Hall did not stand deserted during the day as Maiden Hall. About twenty women and twice as many children filled the luxurious central space, and voices of more filtered in from the adjoining chambers. The soft sound of water that seemed to circulate in the pool blended together with the gentle chime of charms around the concubines’ waists, creating something akin to music.
    A few concubines watched our progress, while others embroidered, played with children, or simply rested. The only similarity between Pleasure Hall and Maiden Hall was the small window holes below the round ceiling, although the glass of the ones here swirled with a rainbow of colors.
    From the central space opened many chambers with curved archways, and I followed Kumra into one of them. Some of her gowns were carelessly scattered on the floor where they lay in twisted poses, like beautiful bodies waiting for their spirit to enter them.
    She led me to a small chamber that opened from hers in the back. A delicately carved bed of dark sabal wood stood in the corner, her daughter, Keela, lying upon the bed. Color had fled her face since I had last seen her on the night of the feast. Her eyes stared but did not see.
    Kumra had not brought me to clean. She wanted my healing.
    “I am a Berangi,” she said. “Have you ever seen a Berangi funeral?”
    I shook my head and bowed deep, not daring to look her in the eye.
    In the barbaric Kingdom of Berang when an important person died, the family had a servant killed and buried with the dead so they would have someone to take care of them in the afterlife. In the time