13th of Spring, 501 AV.
To Jaadis, the sickroom smelled like death.
She had smelled death only once before, when a clumsy old grandfather had fallen off a balcony and died. Much and more of the Sitai family had come out of the woodwork for his burial. Jaadis remembered the obsequy like it was yesterday; The hot summer air breathing in from the swamps; the old cemetery gravestones, pressing up out of the ground like stone fingers; and the open casket that stood before her, in which the old man himself had been displayed for all of Mizahar to see.
Most of all, though, she remembered the stench. In death Grandfather stunk like a wild pig, and though much of the family was far enough away to grin and bear it, Jaadis had been standing up front with Uncle Dervain and his brood – for her mother hadn’t roused herself to attend the funeral, of course. The smell had almost made her heave, right there, as the last funeral rites were given and a favorable reincarnation was prayed for. But she had felt the hot eyes of her family on her back and had no choice but to choke it on down.
Jed Sitai’s bedroom reminded her of that day. The sickroom, she had taken to calling it, for her cousin was poor of health more often than naught and weak besides. All of Kenash knew that. He was the head of household’s child, however, and that permitted him several luxuries that Jaadis doubted several more distant relations would have been provided. He was still a child, however, younger than Jaadis by four years. Perhaps in time he would grow into a strong man. But Jaadis doubted it.
Today, like most days, the sickroom was inhabited. Jed had come down with some sickness again, and Jaadis didn’t know and didn’t care. She only knew it was not infectious. Consequently, his door was open, and house slaves went to and fro...but Jaadis lingered at the threshold. She and Jed were not exactly close – they barely talked, in fact. Because of Jaadis’s mother and the way she was scarcely anyone talked to Jaadis. Jed might inquire as to her presence, and though she had a pretext, it was a flimsy one. And then there was that smell!
But Jaadis felt the fire burn within her, and knew that something had to be done. She had to find a release.
So, like Grandfather’s burial, she stomached the stench and pushed her way in. “Cousin?” she inquired with her sweetest voice as she entered his chamber. She was sixteen, and innocent and pretty besides - surely that would overrule any objections Jed might have? Jaadis couldn’t be sure. “I’ve brought you lunch...”
She had smelled death only once before, when a clumsy old grandfather had fallen off a balcony and died. Much and more of the Sitai family had come out of the woodwork for his burial. Jaadis remembered the obsequy like it was yesterday; The hot summer air breathing in from the swamps; the old cemetery gravestones, pressing up out of the ground like stone fingers; and the open casket that stood before her, in which the old man himself had been displayed for all of Mizahar to see.
Most of all, though, she remembered the stench. In death Grandfather stunk like a wild pig, and though much of the family was far enough away to grin and bear it, Jaadis had been standing up front with Uncle Dervain and his brood – for her mother hadn’t roused herself to attend the funeral, of course. The smell had almost made her heave, right there, as the last funeral rites were given and a favorable reincarnation was prayed for. But she had felt the hot eyes of her family on her back and had no choice but to choke it on down.
Jed Sitai’s bedroom reminded her of that day. The sickroom, she had taken to calling it, for her cousin was poor of health more often than naught and weak besides. All of Kenash knew that. He was the head of household’s child, however, and that permitted him several luxuries that Jaadis doubted several more distant relations would have been provided. He was still a child, however, younger than Jaadis by four years. Perhaps in time he would grow into a strong man. But Jaadis doubted it.
Today, like most days, the sickroom was inhabited. Jed had come down with some sickness again, and Jaadis didn’t know and didn’t care. She only knew it was not infectious. Consequently, his door was open, and house slaves went to and fro...but Jaadis lingered at the threshold. She and Jed were not exactly close – they barely talked, in fact. Because of Jaadis’s mother and the way she was scarcely anyone talked to Jaadis. Jed might inquire as to her presence, and though she had a pretext, it was a flimsy one. And then there was that smell!
But Jaadis felt the fire burn within her, and knew that something had to be done. She had to find a release.
So, like Grandfather’s burial, she stomached the stench and pushed her way in. “Cousin?” she inquired with her sweetest voice as she entered his chamber. She was sixteen, and innocent and pretty besides - surely that would overrule any objections Jed might have? Jaadis couldn’t be sure. “I’ve brought you lunch...”
