"How to explain best is difficult," Medart said slowly. "I've been in
a 'na's mind, and I'm still not sure I understand it completely. When
you accepted his oath, he became a part of you--literally, by their
reckoning, to the point where Sandemans would consider you the father
of any children he might engender."
"Dear God! I thought the oath was extreme, but I didn't dream . . ."
Cortin trailed off, staring at her 'na.
"Going to extremes is a Sandeman characteristic," Medart said drily.
"As another example, he'll want the tattoo I mentioned on his face to
show he's yours. Their custom entitles him to it--and if he does
anything against their custom with other Sandemans around, it protects
him from punishment or dishonor, because they'll see it as doing your
will."
And, Cortin thought, if their negotiations took the Kingdom Systems
into the Empire, there would definitely be other Sandemans around. She
turned to Keith. "Do you want that?"
"Yes, Thakur, very much."
"It's your face; is there any particular mark you'd prefer?"
Keith thought for a moment. "Since you're an Inquisitor, a question
mark like the one on your badge might be appropriate."
"It would, yes--and since I'm High King's Inquisitor, there should be a
crown on top." She cocked her head. "I don't know much about the
local tattoo artists, but I'm sure someone here does; if you're as
eager as you look, I can find out who's best and have him brought here
to do the job."
"I am eager, Thakur, but not enough for you to go to extra trouble."
Cortin grinned. "Sometimes I enjoy going to extra trouble for my
people. Let's get up to the Family floor and see who knows about
tattooing experts."
"Thank you, Thakur!"
"My pleasure."
On the way upstairs, Keith began to feel something odd. Not really
odd, he corrected himself; just inappropriate in these surroundings and
certainly not the sort of thing he'd expect a proper 'na to feel toward
his thakur! Honor, respect, devotion, of course--but desire? Custom
was silent on the subject--naturally, with almost all such
relationships between warriors--so sex wasn't forbidden, exactly. On
the other hand, it didn't quite seem properly respectful, either.
The feeling subsided a bit as his thakur spoke to her team, then had
Tony call an artist he knew, but it didn't go away completely. And,
oddly enough, he seemed to be sensing her feelings, maybe even a shadow
of her thoughts, in spite of his lack of Talent. That was a blessing
he hadn't expected, and he sent a quick prayer of thanks to the gods
for it; if he could know her thoughts, it would make doing her will far
more certain.
They had supper while waiting for the artist to arrive; Medart excused
himself as soon as the meal was over, saying he wasn't in the mood for
sex and had some thinking to do.