Quiet Knives by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Page A

the
robes rustling, then falling silent, sheathing her poised and
silent slenderness.
    "So," he said, and met her dark eyes through
the veil. "A momentous change approaches your life, my child. Your
sister Humaria is to wed."
    Inas bowed, dainty hands folded demurely
before her.
    "What?" he chided gently. "Do you not share
your sister's joy?"
    There was a small pause, not unusual; his
mouse weighed her words like a miser weighed his gold.
    "Certainly, if my sister is joyous, then it
would be unworthy of me to weep," she said in her soft, soothing
voice. "If it is permitted that I know--who has come forward as her
husband?"
    Reyman Bhar nodded, well-pleased to find
proper womanly feeling, as well as a scholar's thirst for
knowledge.
    "You are allowed to know that Safarez,
eldest son of Majidi the Merchant, has claimed the right to husband
Humaria."
    Inas the subtle stood silent, then bowed
once more, as if an afterthought, which was not, the scholar
thought, like her. He moved to his desk, giving her time to
consider, for, surely, even his clever mouse was female, if not yet
full woman, and might perhaps know a moment's envy for a sister's
good fortune.
    "They are very grand, the Majidi," she said
softly. "Humaria will be pleased."
    "Eventually, she will be so," he allowed,
seating himself and pulling a notetaker forward. "Today, she weeps
for the home she will lose. Tomorrow, she will sing for the home
she is to gain."
    "Yes," said Inas, and the scholar smiled
into his beard.
    "Your sisters will require your assistance
with the wedding preparations," he said, opening the notetaker and
beginning a list. "I will be going to Lahore-Gadani tomorrow, to
purchase what is needful. Tell me what I shall bring you."
    Mouse silence.
    "I? I am not to be wed, Father."
    "True. However, it has not escaped one's
attention that tomorrow is the anniversary of your natal day. It
amuses me to bring you a gift from the city, in celebration. What
shall you have?"
    "Why, only yourself, returned to us timely
and in good health," Inas said, which was proper, and womanly, and
dutiful.
    The scholar smiled more widely into his
beard, and said nothing else.
    * * *
    HUMARIA WEPT WELL INTO the night, rocking
inside the circle of Shereen's arms. At last, her sobs quieted
somewhat, and Shereen looked to Inas, who sat on a pillow across
the room, as she had all evening, playing Humaria's favorite songs,
softly, upon the lap-harp.
    Obedient to the message in her sister's
eyes, Inas put the harp aside, arose and moved silently to the
cooking alcove. Deftly, she put the kettle on the heat-ring, rinsed
the pot with warm water and measured peace tea into an infuser.
    The kettle boiled. While
the tea steeped, she placed Humaria's own blue cup on a tray, with
a few sweet biscuits and some leaves of candied sventi . At the last, she added a pink
candle, sacred to Amineh, the little god of women, and breathed a
prayer for heart's ease. Then, she lifted the tray and carried it
to her sister's couch.
    Humaria lay against Shereen's breast, veils
and hair disordered. Inas knelt by the end table, placed the tray,
and poured tea.
    "Here, sweet love," Shereen cooed, easing
Humaria away from her shoulder. "Our dear sister Inas offers tea in
your own pretty cup. Drink, and be at peace."
    Shivering, Humaria accepted the cup. She
bent her face and breathed of the sweet, narcotic steam, then
sipped, eyes closed.
    Shereen sat up, and put her
head scarf to rights, though she left the ubaie --the facial veils--unhooked and
dangling along her right jaw.
    "Our young Inas is fortunate, is she not,
sister?" Humaria murmured, her soft voice blurry with the combined
effects of weeping and the tea.
    "How so?" asked Shereen, watching her
closely, in case she should suddenly droop into sleep.
    "Why," said Humaria, sipping tea. "Because
she will remain here in our home with our father, and need never
marry. Indeed, I would wonder if a husband could be found for a
woman who reads as well as a