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The Quartz Key Chapter Sixty-Seven
by Lianne Burwell
July 2003
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It was getting late in the day when Judas woke, feeling 
exhausted despite the sleep. He was chilled and soaked with 
sweat, while the pillows he lay on smelled strongly of 
vomit. He sat up, and his stomach cramped slightly, 
bringing back memories of excruciating pain. Pain that 
suggested poison. And yet the last of the pain was fading 
quickly.

Judas stood and stumbled over to a low table holding a jug 
of water and a bowl. He poured some of the warm liquid into 
the bowl and splashed it on his face before lifting the 
bowl and taking a careful sip.

The water slid down his throat and settled in his stomach, 
calming the slight roiling. Judas rubbed his face, then 
looked down at himself and grimaced in disgust. He had 
fallen asleep in the same robes he had worn to be presented 
to the army, and the white of the fabric was now stained 
with fluids that he did not want to examine very closely; 
especially the rust-colored stains that suggested dried 
blood.

He pulled his tunic up over his head, not caring that if 
someone were to open the tent flap, he could be severely 
burned if he were close enough to be reached by the sun. It 
was a danger he had faced every day of his life, and yet 
now it was not so much that he did not care as he suddenly 
did not feel the danger. For the moment, the sun no longer 
felt like the enemy.

He searched through the pile of cushions and found a folded 
outer robe and pulled it on. While the sun did not worry 
him, he had no desire to be so bare if someone did come in. 
Clothing was like armor when surrounded by people who 
wanted something from him.

Also in a corner of the tent he found the cup from which he 
had drunk tea before falling asleep. He sniffed it 
curiously, and it seemed to him that there was a scent 
there of more than just tea. Again he remembered the 
feeling as though a blade had been plunged into his stomach 
and twisted. But if it had been poison, then who had done 
it?

Then he remembered that he had not been the only one to 
drink the tea. What of the clan chiefs?

Judas shook his head. If anyone else had been poisoned, 
then surely he would hear sounds of anger or panic outside 
in the camp. Instead, all he heard was the sound of men 
talking, horses moving, a distant call to prayers. No 
sounds of alarm.

The tent flap was pulled open without warning, and Judas 
stepped back carefully. Hamar stood there staring at him 
with a glare. His nose wrinkled, and he glanced around the 
tent. "Disgusting," was all he said before letting the flap 
fall closed again.

A moment later, the flap opened again, and this time it was 
a group of young men, army trainees no doubt, carrying jugs 
of water and armfuls of cloth and leather. The pillows were 
sorted through, and the soiled ones were piled at one side 
of the tent, while the clean were moved to the other side.  
The leather proved to be a small bathing tub braced with 
slats of wood. It was set up, and Judas was encouraged to 
disrobe and stand at the center.

The first jug of water was poured over his head, and two of 
the boys went to work with sponges from a distant sea and 
rough cloths, scrubbing him clean. Despite the time he had 
spent at the temple, the attention made him uncomfortable, 
perhaps because before it had been women. It was... 
different when it was young men touching him in ways that 
could be construed as intimate. It felt like a betrayal of--

Judas stiffened, a memory of the night before springing 
into his mind. At the worst moment, he could have sworn 
that he remembered Nemir being there, holding him and 
reassuring him, taking away the pain. Judas looked around 
the tent wildly, ignoring the confused expressions on his 
attendants' faces, but there was no sign of his prince. No 
sign that he had ever been there, and how could he have? 
Nemir was far away, far to the north. And with armies ready 
to take to the field, he prayed that Nemir *stayed* far 
away.

The boys returned to their duties, and in short order he 
was clean and fresh smelling once more, wrapped in a clean 
robe while his hair was tended to. Once it was dry, he 
dressed in the tunic and leggings he was given, and an vest 
was hung over it. The under layers were pale enough to 
almost be white, while the vest was midnight blue and 
embroidered with silver stars and moons. The boots he was 
given were died the same deep blue, as was the ribbon they 
used to tie his hair back. While there were no mirrors to 
see himself in, he did not doubt that to people who did not 
know him, he was probably an inspiring sight.

It was hard to believe that men would find him so inspiring 
that they would follow him into battle, though. All through 
his childhood he had been called demon-born. And now, far 
from the desert of his birth, he was being called Goddess-
born. Was there really that great a difference? Especially 
when the men who insisted on following his unwilling 
leadership started to die in battle. No matter what he had 
been told, he found it difficult to conceive that they 
might succeed.

The sun was setting, and the moon would be rising soon. He 
could already feel the anticipation in the air. Sounds of 
activity outside the tent were growing in volume.

The tent flap opened once again, and the boys left swiftly, 
no doubt having more preparations to complete before the 
army started to move. Chiram smiled fondly at them as they 
passed him. "And how do you feel this morning?" he asked 
Judas. Then he frowned, no doubt noticing the foul smell of 
the tent.

Judas handed the older man the tea cup. "Considering the 
fact that I was probably poisoned, I am luck to feel as 
good as I do," he said.

Chiram sniffed the cup, and his nose wrinkled. His smile 
was gone. "How bad is it?"

For a moment, Judas's stomach heaved again, but he was able 
to control it through pure will. "I am well enough now," he 
said. "But the night was bad." He closed his eyes, and a 
flash of pain came back before fading once more. "I will be 
able to ride, though," he added, even though he still felt 
slightly weak and lightheaded, since that was probably what 
the chief was most worried about.

Chiram urged him over to the pile of clean cushions and 
told him to sit and rest. One of the boys was back with a 
tray. The first meal of the day, complete with tea. Judas's 
stomach clenched at the thought.

Chiram picked up the tea cup and sniffed it carefully, then 
sipped. His set it down on the tray, then picked up the 
leaf of bread and broke off the heel. Judas realized, 
surprised, that the older man was tasting all of his food 
to make sure that it was not poisoned. That he would do so 
for him amazed Judas.

Once Chiram had tasted every item on the tray, he nodded to 
Judas that it was safe for him to break his fast, and he 
did so gratefully, his worries allayed. Food in his stomach 
took away the last of the sick feeling, leaving him 
refreshed and better suited for what was to come.

At this point, Hamar reappeared again, a scowl on his face. 
The scowl was quickly wiped away as soon as he saw that 
Judas was not alone, and who was with him. "The army is 
nearly ready to move," he said, nodding to Chiram. "They 
will need to strike this tent soon."

"As soon as the sun sets," Chiram said firmly.

"That will waste time," Hamar protested.

"Then we shall waste it. It will give you time to find the 
servant who served the tea last night."

Hamar looked puzzled, but his eyes flickered to Judas. 
There had been something about the woman, but Judas could 
not remember what it was. Something very important. "Why?" 
Hamar asked.

"Because they attempted to poison the boy last night, and I 
would know why."

Hamar went white at that. "It may difficult to find out who 
he was."

"She."

Both the men turned to Judas. "What do you mean?" Hamar 
demanded with a scowl.

"The server last night was a woman," Judas said, his brow 
wrinkling as he tried to remember any other details, but 
all that came to mind was a female form swathed in layers 
of cloth, and bright eyes that made everything else fade in 
consequence.

"There are no women traveling with the army," Chiram said.

Judas frowned. "Why not?" Not having women as warriors made 
sense, since few women had the strength to swing a sword 
effectively, but he would have thought that there would be 
women brought along to tend the camp and the men. And among 
the tribes, women were often part of scouting or hunting 
parties. It did not take strength to follow a trail or set 
a snare, and there were bows that a woman could pull, even 
if the arrow would not go as far.

Hamar looked as though he wanted to say something scathing, 
but a glance at Chiram kept him quiet. Chiram simply said, 
"It would not be appropriate."

Judas considered debating the issue, then decided against 
it. "Be that as it may, the person who served the tea last 
night was definitely female."

"Perhaps it was simply a boy with delicate features?" Hamar 
suggested.

Judas considered the suggestion. "Perhaps, but I believe 
that it was a woman. Would a boy have been dressed in robes 
with a veil across the face?"

Hamar snorted. "No male would dress that way," he said 
firmly. "Not unless he were a eunuch." The word dripped 
with scorn.

"A what?" Judas asked Chiram, not recognizing the word.

"One whose manhood has been removed," Chiram said. "They 
guard the Harem. Do you not have them in the north?"

Judas shook his head. "In the desert, there were no harems. 
Women were wives and mothers, hunters and scouts. A man who 
tried to force himself on a woman might find himself 
emasculated by her, but we do not do so when no crime has 
been committed. And even then, better to kill him. In 
Ajantha there was a harem, but the guards outside were part 
of the Palace Guard, and not unmanned. But the doors of the 
Harem were locked, and could only be opened from within, 
except for the one leading from the Prince's chambers. He 
is the only man out of childhood allowed inside."

Hamar was shaking his head, as if in disgust. "There is no 
point to this. There are no women in the camp. Hunting for 
some mysterious woman who you claim tried to poison you is 
a waste of time. The army must leave tonight. The God-King 
will be coming south, and there is no time to waste."

Judas glanced to Chiram, who showed no emotion. "Do it," he 
ordered. Then he turned to Judas, dismissing Hamar. "Your 
horse will be ready as soon as the sun sets. Until then, 
rest. The time of destiny is quickly approaching."

Hamar left the tent, but the glare he sent Judas's way did 
not bode well.

END CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN