Page 57 of The Merciless Ones
Lady Kamanda just gives me another merry smile as the man glides forward, the wheels on his chair seemingly moving by themselves, as he extends his hand to help her off the boat. Embracing him, she says to us, “Welcome to the House of Kamanda. This is my husband, Lord Kamanda.”
As I stand there, blinking, Lord Kamanda bows his head towards me with an ornate flourish. “Honoured Nuru, I am most pleased that you are visiting our humble home,” he says in a high, twinkling voice, his tone so earnest, I can almost ignore his choice of the word humble to describe this monstrosity of a dwelling. “I trust my wife has aided you well on your journey.” He smiles at Lady Kamanda, not even blinking when she and Karmoko Thandiwe walk forward, arms around each other.
“She has,” I say quickly, trying not betray my surprise.
Most of the relationships in Abeya would seem unusual to the outside world, but to see one like this here is something of a shock.
Lord Kamanda notices my shock despite my efforts. “Ah, yes – our marriage,” he says, amused. He leans in conspiratorially. “You see, in times of old, this is what would be considered a marriage of convenience. We both love each other with all our hearts – just not in the romantic sense.” He beckons me airily. “Come along now, honoured Nuru. We have urgent matters to discuss.” His chair turns and glides forward – except now, I hear the quiet whirring coming from inside it.
It must be some sort of automaton, like the ones Karmoko Calderis used to make in her forges when she wasn’t perfecting the newest weapon. Speaking of which, “Where are the other karmokos?” I ask Karmoko Thandiwe, but she just shakes her head.
“Alive,” she says. “We’ll discuss it at dinner.”
As I nod, following her, Keita catches my arm, pulls me back. “You all right, Deka? I can take over if you wish.”
I look up at him, search for a truthful answer. “I’m not all right,” I say finally. “Everything feels strange, and my emotions are like this…knotted thread I can’t even begin to unravel. But I’m managing… I think I can manage.” Even as I say the words, I know I’m not sure of them.
“You don’t have to,” Keita replies. “You can just stop. I know you want to know what’s happening, but I’m here. If anything feels too much, I can take you away. I can appoint someone else to lead. I’m here for you.”
“We all are,” a quiet voice says. Tears sting my eyes when I see Li and the other uruni nodding. “We’re all here, Deka.”
“Us too,” Belcalis says solemnly. “We all know what it’s like to lose family.”
My chest tightens as I look at my friends, all the love and support shining in their eyes. “Thank you,” I manage to breathe out.
Then I follow Lord and Lady Kamanda into their house.
The Kamanda estate is just as imposing inside as it is out – arching ceilings so high, it’s almost dizzying to look up at them; bright stone floors with pretty inlaid patterns. Statues stand along the walls of each room, their faces covered by intricately detailed golden masks the size of serving plates. Just one of them could feed the entirety of Irfut for at least a decade, and that’s not even considering the jewels that stud a few of the more imposing ones. And as if that weren’t enough, a profusion of rare flowers and vines curl around the columns that border the colossal windows, which are open to the warm night air. Outside of Abeya, this is the first time I’ve seen so many plants inside a home. More to the point, this is the first time I’ve been in a family dwelling this massive, not counting the former emperor’s palace. I didn’t even realize such a thing was possible.
Amusement dances in Lord Kamanda’s eyes as he takes in our gaping mouths. “I remember when I first came here,” he says fondly as his chair whirs along. “I spent an entire afternoon lost in the east wing. Maimuna had to send one of the maids to come looking for me.”
Britta frowns at this, surprised. “Wait, so Lady Kamanda is the one who—”
“Owns all this?” The cheerful nobleman gestures around. “Originally, yes. Even the name, Kamanda, came from her family. But as you know, Hemairan women can’t inherit property. It passes to the oldest brother or, if there are no living male heirs, to the husband of a female heir.”
Lady Kamanda nods. “My father was the last of his line, so I chose Sandima as my husband. Every day, I thank the gods I found him.”
Lord Kamanda kisses her hand. “No,” he corrects her. “We found each other.” The two beam fondly, love gleaming in their eyes.
I glance at Karmoko Thandiwe, who’s walking alongside them, the quiet boy, who I’m now certain is her assistant, just behind her. I hope she’s happy, being part of this unusual little family. Lord and Lady Kamanda, for all their massive wealth, seem to be very kind people, and anyone who’s spent as much time in the Warthu Bera as Karmoko Thandiwe has is sorely in need of kindness.
I continue following the trio, who lead us to a large veranda overlooking the lake, a massive table straining under the weight of the food laid out there.
“And here we are,” Lord Kamanda announces with a triumphant flourish. “A dinner fit for the children of gods.” He beams eagerly at us, almost like a child showing off a favoured toy. If I were in any other state of mind, I probably wouldn’t be able to help being amused by it.
“It looks magnificent,” I say finally, causing Lord Kamanda’s grin to spread even further.
Despite my sadness, I truly mean it. The meal spread out in front of me is unlike any other I’ve ever seen. Cheeses from the Northern provinces, assorted stews and grilled vegetables, the most delicately spiced desserts – all of them arranged in a manner to tempt the eye, their combined aroma merging into a single, delectable essence. But the events of the past few days have completely taken my appetite, not to mention all my fears about the Warthu Bera and our bloodsisters there. It might as well be ash to me.
“Karmoko Thandiwe?” I say as Lord Kamanda pulls out a chair for me at the head of the table, easily manoeuvring around in his own. “How is the Warthu Bera? How are our bloodsisters?”
“Are you certain you want to discuss this now, Deka?” she asks gently while the nobleman fusses over my place setting. Next to me, the quiet boy is doing the same for Nimita and Katya while nervous servants hover around Keita and my other friends, since they’re too frightened to approach the deathshrieks.
Every once in a while, the boy frowns at Katya, though I don’t understand why: she’s made it a point to ignore him, turning her face whenever he peers at her.
“Why don’t we speak tomorrow, when you’re in a…better frame of mind,” the karmoko asks.
I try to breathe away the hysterical giggle that bubbles up at her choice of words. Better frame of mind. What a way to refer to the brokenness I feel. “Tomorrow won’t be better,” I say, shaking my head.