竖琴手同盟：焦灼之海 第一章[上]
One
THE HARPERS
Ruha woke abruptly, unsure of what had disturbed her languorous nap. The young woman lay next to her sleeping husband, their bodies touching at the hip and shoulder. She turned to look at his weathered face. Ajaman had the rough skin thick mustache of a mature man, but his hairless chest was young, lean, and muscular. He was the only man Ruha had ever seen undressed.
As the young wife gazed at her husband, her vision suddenly blurred. An instant later, it cleared and the face of another man appeared in place of Ajaman's. She gasped in astonishment, but did not cry out.
The stranger's visage was unlike any she had ever known. His skin was red and sun-blistered, with a creamy white underlayer showing through where he had peeled. A black patch covered his right eye, and his left eye was as blue as the desert sky. Though his fea¬tures were drawn and haggard, they were not so care¬worn that he could have been more than twenty-five.
Any other bride would have run screaming from her new home, concluding that her father had married her to a djinn-but not Ruha. She had been suffering visions since before she could walk, so she recognized the image for what it was: a mirage from tomorrow. Sometime soon, the stranger would appear. What would happen then, Ruha could not say, though she knew it would be some mishap or catastrophe. She lacked the talent to interpret the mi¬rages, but nothing good had ever followed one.
Her first vision had been of thousands of butterflies. The butterflies had turned out to be moths, and within two months every yard of cloth in the tribe was full of holes. Another time, during a terrible drought, she had seen a vast green meadow to the south of the tribe. Her father, the sheikh, had taken the herds in search of the fresh pas¬turage. After a week of thirsty riding, they had finally found the meadow. It was on the edge of a contaminated pool, and half of their camels had died from drinking poisoned water.
Not surprisingly, Ruha had come to regard her premoni¬tions as more of an affliction than a gift. Without giving the vision further thought, the young wife shut her eyes tightly and hoped it would pass.
Ajaman stirred beside her. "Is something troubling you, my wife?"
The heat rose to Ruha's cheeks, for being addressed as "wife" gave her a capricious feeling that she found embar¬rassing.
Opening her eyes, she was relieved to see Ajaman in¬stead of the one-eyed man. The young bride sailed and answered, "Nothing we should worry about:'
She said nothing of her vision, for she did not want Aja¬man to blame her for whatever misfortune the one-eyed stranger was bringing. Besides, the desert tribes were wary of magic, and if her new husband suspected her of being a witch, he would cast her from his tent.
Abruptly Ajaman winced at his nude body, then blushed. He reached for his aba, the loose-fitting robe of the Bedine tribes, and pulled it over his head: The couple had only been married for two days, and the bride knew it would be many weeks before they felt completely comfortable.
Rnha sat up and pulled her own aba over her nakedness, then studied her new khreirna with a warm feeling of satis¬faction. The dimly fit tent was nearly empty, for she and her husband had not yet acquired many possessions. A dozen cushions lay scattered over the ground carpet, her loom and cooking pots rested in one corner, and Ajaman's weapons dangled from hooks on the wooden tentpoles.
The afternoon breeze drummed gently at the khreirna, and Ruha heard feet scuffling outside. Several men began whispering to each other in jocular tones, probably specu¬lating as to why the tent was closed on such a hot day. Irri¬tated by the men's presence, Ruha lifted her chin toward the entrance.
"We have visitors," she said. By the custom of her peo¬ple, only her husband could welcome guests to their khreima
Ajaman nodded. "I hear them:' Turning to the entrance, he called the host's traditional greeting, "Has somebody come to my khreima in need of help?"
"Time for the watch," came the reply. Ruha didn't rec¬ognize the deep voice, but that was to be expected. She had not been a member of the tribe until her mar¬riage. Ajaman scowled. "It can't be dusk so soon:"
"You have the night watch?" Ruha asked, frowning at the memory of her premonition. "We've only been married two days. Let someone else take the duty."
"And shame our family so soon?" Ajaman replied, rising from the carpet. Given her husband's reply, Ruha knew arguing would do no good. If Ajaman considered the watch a matter of family integrity, even the certain knowledge of impending death would not have stopped him from going. Like a Bedine, he considered honor more important than his life: "Besides," Ajaman added, "there is danger of a raiding tonight. The Mtair Dhafir is not the only khowwan within riding distance, you know:'
The Mtair Dhafir was the tribe of Ruha's father. Her marriage to Ajaman had sealed an alliance between their tribes. There would be no raiding between the two khowwans while both Ajaman and Ruha lived. Unfortu¬nately, there were many other tribes with whom the' Qahtan had no such ties.
It was not a raiding that worried Ruha, however. By his pale skin, she knew that the one-eyed foreigner did not belong to any Bedine tribe. Whatever his reason for coming to the camp of the Qahtan, it was not intertribal raiding.
"Come, Ajaman," grumbled the deep voice outside. "We're due at our posts:'
Ajaman took his keffiyeh off its hook and slipped the white head-cloth over his hair. Ruha stood and straightened it so the long apron hung square across his shoulders. "Stay alert, Ajaman;" she said. "I would be disappointed if you let some boy cut your throat:'
Ajaman grinned. "Have no fear of that, Ruha;" he replied, reaching for his scimitar. "I watch from El Ma'ra's crown. I'll see our enemies from miles away:'
Ruha knew the place to which her husband referred. A mile outside the oasis, a lonely spire of yellow sandstone towered more than one hundred feet over the desert. That pinnacle was El Ma'ra Dat-ur Ojhogo, the tall god who lets men sit upon his head.
Keeping her voice low so she would not be overheard, she said, "After dark, I'll bring you apricots and milk:' Ajaman nearly dropped his scabbard belt. "You can't do that!"
"Why not?" the young bride demanded: "Is there any shame in a wife bringing food to her husband."
Ajaman scowled at the challenge to his authority. "There is enough shame in violating your purdah," he countered. "The purdah is to keep frightened young brides from re¬turning to their father's khawwan;' Ruha said. "I am hardly frightened, and I have no desire to go back to the Mtair ' Dhafir. You have no need to isolate me:'
"I know," Ajaman whispered, his tone losing its earlier sternness. "But if someone should see you-"
"I'll say you told me to bring you supper," Ruha respond¬ed slyly.
Seeing that his wife would not be denied, Ajaman sighed. "If all women of the Mtair Dhafir are this willful, perhaps they are the ones who should pay camels the next time , they send us a bride:'
Ruha smiled, pleased that her new husband was not the type to bully his wife. The young bride had no idea how she could safeguard Ajaman from whatever the vision pres¬aged, but at least she would be with him to watch for omi¬nous signs.
As Ajaman fastened his scabbard belt, Ruha kissed him. "How much supper should I bring?"
"What you can carry easily;" Ajaman answered, still whispering.
Outside the tent, the deep-voiced man called, "Ajaman, quit your bed games and come to the watch! " The exhorta¬tion brought laughter from a dozen throats.
"How many men does it require to fetch you, my hus¬band?" the bride asked, irritated by the intrusive gathering outside the khreima. Though Ruha had addressed Ajaman, she had intentionally spoken loud enough for the men to hear. They tried to pretend they had not heard her com¬plaint, as it was forbidden for a bride in purdah to speak directly to any man except her husband. Despite their efforts, several men could not stifle snickers.
Ajaman raised an eyebrow, but did not seem upset by Ruha's audacity. He covered the appearance of impropriety by repeating her question, "My wife wishes to know how many men are required to summon me:'
"More than we have brought, apparently," the deep voiced man returned. "To keep you from your duty, she must truly be as beautiful as her father promised."
Ruha smiled at the man's comment. Her father had also promised her that she would be pleased with Ajaman. So far, it appeared that her sire was as skilled at matchmaking as at camel herding.
Picking up his quiver and bow, Ajaman beamed at his new bride. "Indeed, my wife's father comes from an hon¬orable family," he called. "It is a pity you cannot see how well he keeps his promises, Dawasir. My words cannot de¬scribe her."
Ruha's smile vanished with her husband's words. The comment made her feel as if she were on display. Like all Bedine women, Ruha reserved her beauty for her hus¬band's eyes alone. Outside her home, the curves of her firm body would always remain concealed beneath her bag¬gy aba. A shawl and veil would hide her sable hair, her proud nose, and the strong features of her statuesque face. All Dawasir or his comrades would ever see of Ruha were her sultry eyes and, perhaps, the crossed hash marks tattooed on her regal cheeks. She could not help feeling be¬trayed by Ajaman's boasting.
Ruha caught her spouse by his sleeve and pulled his ear close to her mouth. "If you don't watch your tongue, my husband," she whispered, "your friend Dawasir is not the only one who won't see how well my father keeps his promises:' Her tone was serious enough to make Ajaman heed her words, but also light enough not to sound like an insult or challenge.
Ajaman clutched at his breast, feigning a wound: "Your words have pierced me deeper than a -raider's arrow;' he responded, his mouth upturned in a roguish smile. "I shall die with your name upon my lips:'
Laughing, the bride pressed her mouth to her husband's. "I'd rather you die with my kiss on your lips than my name:'
Ruha retrieved Ajaman's amarat from its hook. Before giving it to him, she stopped to run her hand along its hand¬carved curves. The horn was already the source of her fon¬dest memory, for when Ajaman had come to claim her as his bride, he had announced his arrival by sounding the arnarat a mile outside the Mtair Dhafir's camp. Its brazen tones had been Ruha's first hint that she would like her new husband, for she had not even met him before he came to take her away.
Their marriage had been arranged by fate, or so her fa¬ther claimed. A waterless summer in the north had driven Ajaman's tribe, the Qahtan, into the sands traveled by the Mtair Dhafir. Instead of chasing the strangers away, Ruha's father had proposed an alliance. In return for the Qahtan's promise to return north at summer's end, the Mtair Dhafir would share their territory for a few months. The bargain had been sealed by Ruha's marriage to Ajaman, the son of the Qahtan's sheikh by his second wife.
What the Qahtan had not realized was that they were solving another problem for their new allies. Witches were no more welcome in the Mtair Dhafir than any other Be¬dine khowwan, and Ruha had always been a problem for her father. When the strangers wandered into Mtair terri¬tory, the sheikh seized the opportunity to marry his daugh¬ter into a tribe that had no way of knowing about the visions she suffered. Of course, her father was risking a blood feud if the Qahtan ever found out that she was a witch. Since it was in the best interest of everyone involved in the decep¬tion to keep the matter hidden, he was willing to make the gamble. It was a risk that Ruha intended to see that he never regretted.
As she hung her husband's horn around his neck, Ruha pushed him toward the khreima exit. "You'd better go be¬fore Dawasir comes in to get you;' she whispered. "I'll join you after dark:'
"Don't let anyone see you," Ajaman said, turning to leave. "It might not dishonor our family, but it would em¬barrass me:'
Ruha shook her head at his unnecessary concern. Aja¬man had no need to worry, but could not be blamed for his apprehension. He did not realize that his wife could shroud herself in the shadow of a dune, or that an owl would envy the silence with which she slipped through the desert night. The young husband could not have known these things, for he did not know of the magic that made them possible or of the old woman who had taught Ruha how to use the spells.
Ruha's marriage to Ajaman was not the first time her fa¬ther had tried to find another place for her to live. Her mother had died when she was only five. Because of her premonitions, none of the sheikh's other wives would agree to raise her. Her father was left with no choice but to give up the young girl. He led the tribe to a remote water¬ing hole where an old witch lived in exile.
Like most "shunned women;' the witch was lonely, so she gladly agreed to take the child as her own. With a pecu¬liar blend of love and forgetful indifference, Qoha'dar set about teaching Ruha how to survive alone in the desert, a talent that relied heavily on the use of magic. By the time Ruha reached the age between childhood and womanhood, she could conjure sand lions, summon wind dragons, and scorch her enemies with the heat of the desert.
In Ruha's sixteenth year, Qoha'dar passed away. For several months, the lonely girl pored over Qoha'dar's books. Without the old woman to explain the runes and act as a guide, however, most of the effort was wasted. In all that time, Ruha learned only how to make a wall from wind and dust.
After accidentally enlarging a scorpion to the size of a camel and spending twenty-four hours hiding from it in a rock crevice, Ruha realized that sand magic was no substi¬tute for companionship. She decided to return to the Mtair Dhafir, pretending that her premonitions had stopped.
Ruha made copies of her favorite spells by sewing them inside her aba, then hid her mentor's books in the founda¬tion of an ancient ruin. As much as she hated to abandon tomes of such value, there was no other choice. If she brought the books along, her tribe would never believe her curse was gone.
Unfortunately, after spending a year locating her father's khowwan, she discovered that the memories of her tribes¬men were long. Less than a week after Ruha had entered camp, half the families threatened to leave if she remained. Although the sheikh had no desire to abandon his child, he was forced to consider the wishes of the malcontents. If he allowed the khoivwan to split, both halves would become easy prey for raiders from other tribes.
He had called Ruha to his side, no doubt to ask her to leave. Before he could force himself to bring up the painful subject, a pair of herdboys burst into the tent to report the presence of an unfamiliar tribe at El Ma'ra oasis. Because El Ma'ra was one of two other oases located within a two ¬day ride of the Mtair Dhafir, the news would normally have been received with alarm. Unallied Bedine tribes seldom camped so close together, for their camels would compete far pasturage and the close proximity would make raiding a virtual certainty.
Instead of receiving the news with a frown, however, Ruha's father had smiled broadly. He sent a messenger to arrange a meeting with the strange tribe, then told Ruha to prepare herself for a new life. Seven days later, Ajaman's amarat had sounded outside camp as he came to fetch his bride.
Remembering the short ride back to the Qahtani camp, Ruha smiled. Ajaman had led her camel, while a dozen friends surrounded them with drawn scimitars to discour¬age anybody from stealing the new bride. Ajaman had dared to speak to her only a half-dozen times, to reassure her that she had no reason to be frightened. When she had finally told him she was not at all scared, he had blushed and looked away. He had hardly looked at her until twilight the next day, when his father had filled their marriage cup with honeyed camel milk.
Now, as twilight set on her marriage for only the third time, Ruha sat inside her new tent and listened to noises as comforting in the Qahtani camp as they had been in that of the Mtair Dhafir. Loudest was the petulant braying of the camels when they returned from grazing and went to drink at the water hole. With the camels came the sound Ruha found most pleasing, the joyful cries of the children who had been tending the herds. From the rocky outcroppings east of camp came the eerie calls of raptors taking wing for their nightly hunt. More haunting still was the incessant tittering of the desert bats as they swooped low over the oasis pond to scoop up tiny mouthfuls of water.
第一章
露哈猛然醒来，不确定是什么打扰了她倦怠的小睡。这个年轻的女人躺在熟睡的丈夫身边，他们的身体在肩与臀部相触。她转头看着他饱经风霜的脸。阿扎曼有着成熟男人的粗糙皮肤与浓密的胡子，但它光滑的胸部却是年轻、消瘦而强壮的。他是露哈见过的唯一的裸体男人。
当这年轻的妻子注视着她的丈夫时，景象忽然变得模糊了。片刻之后景象清晰起来，阿扎曼的脸被另一个男人的所代替。她因惊愕而猛然吸气，但没有叫出声来。
这个陌生人的面容并不同于任何她认识的人。他的皮肤呈晒伤后的红色，表皮脱落处露出乳白色的内层。他的右眼上戴着黑色的眼罩，左眼如沙漠的天空般碧蓝。虽然他的身形憔悴疲惫，却绝没有沧桑到超过25岁。
其他的新娘会惊叫着从新家逃跑，断定父亲把她嫁给了一个灵怪,但露哈不会。他从会走路之前就为幻象所扰，所以她明白这幻象是明日的蜃景。很快这陌生人就会出现。露哈无法判定那时会发生什么，但她知道那将是厄运或灾难。她缺乏解读幻象的天份，但幻象出现后从来没有好事发生。
她的第一个幻象是成千上万只蝴蝶。结果蝴蝶变成了蛾子,在两个月内部落的每寸布上都满是窟窿。另一次，在一次可怕的旱灾中，她看到部落的南面有一片广阔的草场。她的父亲，也就是部落的酋长，带领着畜群去寻找那片新鲜的草场。经过一周的干渴的骑程，他们终于找到了那片草场。草场毗邻一处污染的池塘，半数骆驼都因为喝了有毒的水而死亡。
无怪乎露哈把她的预知能力看作一种折磨而不是天份。她没有多想，只是紧闭双眼希望幻象能赶快过去。
阿扎曼在她身边动了一下。“有什么烦恼吗，我的妻子？”
露哈的脸颊发烫，被叫做“妻子”让她有一种窘迫的冲动感。
她睁开眼睛，看到阿扎曼而不是那个独眼男人让她感到解脱。年轻的妻子翻身回答：“没什么需要担心的。”
她没有提起幻象，因为她不想为那个独眼男人将带来的任何不幸而遭受阿扎曼的责备。另外，沙漠部族很警惕魔法，如果她的新丈夫怀疑她是个女巫，他一定会把她从帐中扔出去。
阿扎曼忽然因为自己还是裸体而缩了一下，然后脸红了。他伸手去取阿巴——贝都因部落的宽松长袍，套上：这一对才结婚两天，而新娘知道他们要好几周才能完全适应。
露哈坐起来套上自己的阿巴，然后满意的审视她的新家。昏暗的帐篷中几乎是空的，因为她和她的丈夫还没有太多财产。十几只垫子散落在地毯上，她的纺织机和烹饪锅放在一角，阿扎曼的武器吊在帐杆的钩子上。
午后的微风轻轻敲击着帐篷，露哈听到帐外有脚步声。有几个人开始用玩笑的语调耳语，大约是在推测帐篷在这么热的一天还关着的原因。露哈背着几个人激怒了，对着入口抬起了下巴。
“我们有客人了。”她说。根据她的族人的习俗，只有丈夫才能迎接客人来帐篷。
阿扎曼点头：“我听到了。”他转身面对入口，喊出主人的传统问候：“有人来我的帐篷寻求帮助吗？”
“该站岗了。”回答说。露哈认不出那深沉的声音，但这是预料中的。她从结婚开始才成为这部落的一员。阿扎曼皱眉道：“不可能这么快就黄昏了。”
“你值夜？”露哈问，因为她的预知皱了皱眉。“我们才结婚两天，让别人去值班。”
“这么快就让我们家蒙羞？”阿扎曼边回答边从地毯上起来。
根据她丈夫的回答，露哈知道争辩是没用的。如果阿扎曼把值班看作家庭荣誉，就算知道即将死亡也无法阻止他。正如一个贝都因人，他看待荣誉高于生命。
“另外，”阿扎曼补充道，“今晚有突袭的危险。你也知道穆塔尔达费尔不是骑程距离中唯一的部落。”
穆塔尔达费尔是露哈父亲的部落。她和阿扎曼的婚事确立了两部落间的联盟关系。在阿扎曼和露哈都活着时两部落间不会发生袭击。不幸的是，与卡坦没有这种关系的部落还有很多。
然而露哈担心的不是突袭。从他的苍白皮肤来看，她知道那个独眼的外国人不属于任何贝都因部落。无论他来到卡坦的理由是什么，那绝不是部落间的袭击。
“过来，阿扎曼，”深沉的声音在帐外嘟哝，“我们该去站岗了。”
阿扎曼从钩上取下科菲耶并迅速把这块白色包头巾涛在头发上。露哈站起来整理头巾让它正好搭在他的肩上。“警惕点，阿扎曼，”她说，“如果你被哪个男孩子切开喉咙我会失望的。”
阿扎曼咧嘴一笑。“别害怕，露哈。”他回答，伸手取他的弯刀，“我在埃尔玛拉的山顶守卫，我会看到几里外的敌人。”
露哈知道她丈夫指的地方。绿洲外一英里的沙漠中耸立着一座一百多英尺高的黄色砂石高峰，那座高峰就是埃尔玛拉达图奥荷高，让人们坐在他头上的大神。
她为了不被人听见而压低声音说：“等天黑了，我会带杏子和奶给你。”阿扎曼差点掉了他的带剑鞘的腰带：“你不能这么做！”
“为什么不行？”年轻的新娘追问道：“妻子为丈夫送食物也是可耻的吗？”
阿扎曼为这种对他的权力的挑战而皱眉。“违犯深闺制度就够可耻了。”他反击道。“深闺制度避免害怕的年轻新娘跑回她们父亲的部落。”露哈说，“我既不害怕，也不想回穆塔尔达费尔。你不需要隔离我。”
“我知道，”阿扎曼低声说道，他的语调失去了早时的严苛，“但如果有人看见你……”
“我会说是你让我给你送饭的。”露哈淘气的回答道。
眼见无法拒绝他的妻子，阿扎曼叹气道：“如果穆塔尔达费尔的所有女人都这么任性，下次送新娘来的时候也许该让他们倒贴骆驼。”
露哈微笑，很高兴她的新丈夫不是威胁妻子的那一种。露哈不知道怎么才能保护阿扎曼免受幻象预示的事之害，但至少她会和他一起留心危险的征兆。
阿扎曼系紧腰带，露哈亲吻他：“我该带多少吃的？”
“你能轻松带来的量。”阿扎曼仍小声回答。
帐外有着深沉的声音的人叫道：“阿扎曼，停下你床上的游戏来值班！”这劝告引得十几个人大笑起来。
“到底需要多少人来找你，我的丈夫？”被帐外侵扰的人群所激怒的新娘问道。虽然在对阿扎曼说话，露哈有意说得大声嚷外面的人听到。他们试着假装没听到她的抱怨，因为深闺中的新娘禁止同丈夫以外的男人直接交谈。尽管努力这样做，有几个人还是忍不住窃笑。
阿扎曼扬起眉毛，但似乎没有为露哈的大胆行为所困扰。为了隐藏她不当的行为，他重复了她的问题：“我的妻子想知道需要多少人来找我。”
“显然比我们带来的人要多。”声音低沉的男人回答，“她肯定像她父亲保证的一样漂亮，让你忘记职责了。”
听到那人的评论露哈笑了。她的父亲也保证过她会喜欢阿扎曼。至今看来，她的父亲安排婚事的技巧同放牧骆驼的一样精妙。
阿扎曼拿起弓箭，对他的新娘坦率的一笑：“确实如此，我妻子的父亲来自令人尊敬的家族，”他喊道，“真可惜你无法见证他有多守信，达瓦瑟。我难以描述她。”
听到丈夫的话，露哈失去了笑容。这评论让她觉得自己在被展览。如同所有贝都因女性，露哈的美只为她丈夫的双眼所欣赏。除了在家，露哈健美的躯体总是隐藏在她宽松的阿巴下。披肩和面纱遮蔽了她乌黑的头发、高傲的鼻子和庄严的面庞。达瓦瑟和他的伙伴们只能看到露哈撩人的双眼，也许还有她高贵的脸颊上显眼的十字刺青。阿扎曼的夸耀令她不禁觉得被出卖了。
露哈抓住丈夫的袖子，把他的耳朵拉到自己嘴边，耳语道：“我的丈夫，如果你不注意你的言词，你的朋友达瓦瑟将不会是唯一见证我父亲有多么守信的人。”她的语调严肃而轻柔，让阿扎曼注意她的话同时又不感到受辱和反抗。
阿扎曼紧抓住胸口，假装受伤。“你的话比敌人的箭伤我更深。”他翘起嘴角露出恶作剧般的笑容并回答道，“我将唤着你的名字死去。”
新娘大笑着将自己的嘴唇贴在了丈夫的上：“我宁愿你是被我亲吻着死去的。”
露哈从钩子上取下阿扎曼的号角。她停下来抚摸上面手刻的弧线，然后递给了他。这支号角已是她最珍贵的回忆的来源了。阿扎曼来迎娶她时，在穆塔尔达费尔帐营一英里外就是吹响这支号角宣布自己的到来的。它那嘹亮的音调让露哈第一次觉得会喜欢自己的新丈夫，因为在他来带走她之前她从没见过他。
他们的婚事是命运的安排，至少他父亲是这么宣称的。北方的一个缺水的夏季把阿扎曼的部落——卡坦赶到了穆塔尔达费尔巡牧的沙漠中。露哈的父亲并没有赶走这群陌生人，而是提出了联盟。作为卡坦在夏季结束时回到北方的承诺的回报，穆塔尔达费尔将在几个月内分享他们的领地。露哈与卡坦酋长第二夫人的儿子阿扎曼的婚事确立了这项协定。
卡坦并不知道他们为新同盟解决了另一个难题。穆塔尔达费尔如其他贝都因部落一样排斥女巫，而露哈一直都是她父亲的大难题。当这群陌生人游荡进入穆塔尔的领土时，酋长抓住机会把女儿嫁到了一个无从得知她为幻象所扰的部落。当然，如果卡坦发现她是个女巫，她父亲将会有引起血仇的危险。既然隐藏事实对这场欺骗中的每个人都很有利，他愿意赌一场。露哈绝不打算让他为冒险而后悔。
露哈把号角挂到丈夫脖子上，把他推到帐篷的出口处，小声说道：“你最好在达瓦瑟进来抓你之前出去，我天黑后去找你。”
“别让任何人看到你”阿扎曼转身离开时说，“这不会使家族蒙羞，但会让我陷入窘境。”
露哈为他的杞人忧天摇了摇头。阿扎曼根本不必担心，但也不能因为担心而受到责备。他并不知道他的妻子可以躲藏在沙丘的暗影中，连猫头鹰都会嫉妒她在深夜沙漠中潜行时的安静。年轻的丈夫无从得知这些事情，因为他并不了解使之变为可能的魔法和教露哈如何使用这些咒语的老女人。
露哈和阿扎曼的婚姻并不是她父亲第一次寻找让她生活的其他地方。她五岁时母亲就死了。因为她的预知能力，酋长的其他妻子都不同意养育她。她的父亲没有办法，只好舍弃还是小孩子的她。他带领部落来到了一处偏远的水井，那里住着一个被放逐的老女巫。
如同大部分“被回避的女人”，那个女巫很孤独，所以她十分高兴的同意把她当作自己的孩子来抚养。蔻哈达怀着爱和遗忘的冷淡混合的奇特情感开始教露哈如何在沙漠中独自生存，而这种能力极大的依赖于魔法的使用。当露哈到了孩童与女人交界的年龄（更年期？）她已可以召唤沙狮、风龙和使用沙漠之火烧焦敌人。
露哈16岁时，蔻哈达去世了。孤独的女孩花了几个月来钻研蔻哈达的书。然而，没有了老太太对魔法文字的解释和指导，大部分的努力都白费了。那么长的时间了露哈只学会了如何用风和沙造出一堵障蔽。
在不小心把一只蝎子变成了骆驼大小并花费24小时藏在石缝中躲藏它后，露哈明白沙魔法并不能代替同伴。她决定假装预知能力消失了并回到穆塔尔达费尔。露哈把她最喜欢的咒语缝在她的阿巴内侧，然后把她导师的书藏在了一处古迹的地基里。虽然不情愿，她还是不得不放弃这么贵重的书卷。如果她带着这些书，她的部族绝不会相信她摆脱了诅咒。
不幸的是，当花费一年找到了她父亲的部落时，她发现她的族人记性都很好。露哈回到部族还不到三周，就有一半的家族威胁说，如果她留下，他们就要离开。虽然酋长绝不想抛弃自己的孩子，他还是被迫考虑不满者的愿望。如果他让部落分裂，分开的两半都会成为其他部族轻易掠夺的猎物。
他把露哈叫到身边，无疑是要让她离开。在他强迫自己提起这痛苦的话题前，一对牧童冲进帐篷报告埃尔玛拉的绿洲上出现了陌生的部落。因为埃尔玛拉是离穆塔尔达费尔两天骑程距离内的另外两座绿洲之一，这消息通常会被视为警报。
未结盟的贝都因部落很少一起在这么近距离内扎营，因为他们的骆驼会争夺远处的草场，而且这么近的距离必然导致袭击。
然而，露哈的父亲并没有因为这个消息皱眉，倒是开心地笑了。他派使者去安排同陌生部落的会谈，然后告诉露哈去为结婚做准备。几天后，阿扎曼来迎亲的嚎叫声在营帐外响了起来。
露哈想起来卡坦的短暂骑乘笑了起来。阿扎曼牵着她的骆驼，还有十几个朋友握着出鞘的弯刀，防止任何人抢走新娘。阿扎曼只敢和她说了几次话，一再保证她无须害怕。当她最终告诉他她根本不害怕时，他脸红并移开了视线。第二天傍晚，她的父亲在他们的婚礼酒杯中倒满加了蜂蜜的骆驼奶，在这之前他几乎没再看过她。
现在才是她婚后的第三次黄昏，露哈坐在她的新帐篷中，听者卡坦营地里令人安心的嘈杂声音，正如以前在穆塔尔达费尔营地中所听到的。声音最大的是骆驼群放牧归来去水井饮水时烦躁的叫声。随着骆驼的叫声传来照顾畜群的孩子们快乐的叫喊，这是露哈最喜欢的。营地东面的岩石突起处传来猛禽展翅夜猎时发出的怪异的叫声。沙漠蝙蝠低掠过绿洲的水塘，小啜塘中的水，它们那窃笑般的叫声久久不散，更加令人恐惧不安。
那个……本人水平实在有限，只把大义翻译出来了。还请各位大大指正。
另外我现在看的那个英文版错误超多，上面的我改了一些，大概还有很多，各位将就一下吧。发现了告诉我，我会改过来的。
这是第一章的前半段，试译一下，如果大家觉得还可以我就继续，不行的话就继续回家啃书好了。嗯嗯，果然刚过四级就来翻译还是很有困难的说
