Daring to Dream

Chapter One

The Daughter of Harradin

In the dim light, Tarneesh turned over. With a groan, he forced himself to rise from the straw mattress before staggering across the room towards a rickety table. Slowly taking the bowl that was upon it, he splashed half the tepid water it contained onto his face and used the other half of it to swill out his mouth. He carelessly spat the liquid onto the single rug that covered floor before moving towards the only chair in the room. He pulled his clothes on thoughtlessly, glancing around him at the other sleeping figures as he did so.

His gaze came to rest upon his two sons. Kanzeesh and Andur were stocky and as dark as Tarneesh, brawny lads and good fighters like their father had been in his youth.

Grunting with satisfaction, he turned to stare at the woman who lay on the other side of his mattress. Again his expression was that of approval, the most affectionate look he could ever make. Though they had been married sixteen years, Hezal still resembled the young widow he had married. As gentle and sweet-faced as she had been then—though perhaps a little thinner—she had brought four children to his house and had been dutiful and obedient.

Turning once more, his eyes came to rest on his two daughters; Tarlana and Karlis. One of them was large and stocky as her father, while the other had the small, delicate figure of her mother. Despite having the curse of being female (who were by nature less intelligent), both were submissive and compliant to their father's will. Therefore, even to them was he able to feel agreeability.

The final figure he turned to drew a scowl to his face.

Upon the mattress nearest the door he could make out the figure of a tall, slender girl. Curled up beneath her blanket, Karna's face was delicate, and like that of her mother, but with a height that both he and his wife lacked. After glowering at her sleeping form for a moment, he kicked her roughly, growling for her to get up.

Complying at once, the girl jumped to her feet. "Yes, oh my father and the delight of my eyes?" she answered.

"Get dressed, girl, and draw fresh water from the well."

She immediately nodded, hurrying behind a crooked dressing screen. She emerged a few moments later wearing a ragged dress, in the process of pulling a shawl about her shoulders. Without another look at Tarneesh, she left the house gladly, closing the door silently behind her. She smiled as the first freshness of the morning breeze touched her face.

Slowly, she made her way up the narrow, dirty street, relishing the early coolness. She made her way through the winding back streets, soon arriving at the communal well. At that early hour it was almost deserted, and she joined the back of the short queue, gladly hailing the neighbour who stood in front of her.

"Good day Maralis, in the name of Tash (may he praised). How fare you this day?"

"Good day, Karna, in the name of Tash (may he be praised). I am well, I thank you. How does your family?"

"My family is well, I thank you," Karna replied. "My father and brothers are to visit the market this day with their latest carvings of great Tash (may he be praised). They hope to make a fair profit upon them, for father says that several are of excellent craftsmanship."

"I wish them every success in their business, in the name of Tash (may he be praised)," Maralis replied.

"I thank you. Will Tamara be coming to work with us under Master Tirshan's employ this day?"

"She will, for—praise Tash—her sister is now old enough to not require her constant supervision. The added income from her work will also not go amiss." After her turn to draw water, Maralis inclined her head to Karna, bidding her a good day before hurrying off to feed her family.

Having drawn her own water, Karna moved in the direction of home, dawdling as much as she dared. She had no wish of leave the peace and cool of the street and enter the warm stuffiness of the house, or to be confronted by Tarneesh's glowering face. Hesitantly, she carried her bucket of water into the dwelling, in no doubt about the kind of reception she would receive.

However, instead of the expected hostility, she found Hezal in the outer room of the house kneading the morning loaf by the fire. With a smile, the woman rose at the sight of her daughter and gently took her in her arms. While her husband remained out of sight, she allowed herself this rare intimacy that was normally forbidden.

Heavily frowned upon in Calormen society, Tarneesh never showed affection and had little understanding of love. His sons had learned to be the same way. To Hezal and her daughters, however, it was a rare and wonderful thing. For Karna, it was the only joy that she had within the length of her long, tiring day. With delight she returned the gesture, hugging her mother lovingly before feeling the gentle touch of lips to her cheek.

Then the embrace ended, as though nothing had happened.

"How did you sleep, my daughter?" her mother asked, placing several loaves above the flames.

"Well I thank you, oh my mother and the true delight of my eyes," she replied, hastily pouring the water into a bowl to take to her father. "And you?"

"As well as can be expected."

Karna nodded, quickly kissing her mother's cheek.

She followed the morning ritual of kneeling before her father in the other room. She held the bowl up for him as he washed himself properly. He ignored her as he always did in such a posture, as though she were a lowborn slave and not his daughter.

After he had finished, she returned to the well with a second bucket, leaving the first for her siblings to wash in. By this time, the queue had increased significantly, and when she had returned, the entire family was awake and seated around the low table within the outer room. They watched as Hezal took the loaves off of the fire and served them a meagre breakfast of bread, dried fish, and a single fig for each.

After the morning meal, Tarneesh rose with his sons, taking the loaf his wife offered. He nodded to his daughters and ignored Karna. Barking an order to Kanzeesh, he checked that all the carvings were in the leather bundle and, without a backwards glance; he left for the market with the two boys following in his wake.

With relief, Karna rose and went back into the sleeping room. Smiling, she washed her face and combed the tangles from her long black hair. With deft fingers, she braided it and tidied the blanket upon her pallet before heading back into the other room.

"How fare you this morning, Karna?" the slighter of her two sisters asked, tying a simple necklace about her neck.

"Well, I thank you, Karlis," she replied, brushing the creases from her dress. "How did you sleep?"

"Well enough, though I would love above all things to know how it would feel to sleep upon the silken sheets on a bed in one of Master Tirshan's houses. Can you imagine such fine material against your skin, with a large, soft, goose-feather mattress beneath you rather than one of straw? I should forsake all the riches of the world to have one night's experience of that!"

"Do not dream of things that are never going to happen, Karlis," her mother chastised. "There is no benefit in it. Dream only of that which is within your grasp: a marriage to a fine man and a home of your own. That is something attainable."

Nodding obediently, Karlis lowered her head, though Karna knew she would be hearing more of Karlis' dreams throughout that day…and in far greater detail.

"We had best be off," stated the daughter who had not yet spoken, rising from her seat, "or we shall be late for our work."

"I am glad that one of you has my efficiency, Tarlana," their mother added, patting her daughter gently on the shoulder. She handed each of them a loaf and hurried them from the room.

As they made their way through the back streets and up the various stairways, Karna walked slightly behind her sisters, only half-listening to their conversation concerning young men and their hopes for swift marriages. The object of Karlis' admiration that day was the son of their local butcher: a tall, lanky youth who had apparently smiled at Karlis. This was a gesture that was completely unheard of, and had won Karlis' young heart. She was now well on the way to falling deeply and irrevocably in love with the young man, whom Karna found herself approving of much more than the usual lustful admirers of her youngest sister.

When it came to a certain choice of one of two ways, Karlis implored Karna to allow them to take the one that passed by the meat market. Being the eldest, Karna was automatically responsible for her younger sisters' welfare. It did not take much persuasion that morning, because she was interested to judge the true depth of the young man's affections.

Karna was pleasantly surprised when they arrived. It was obvious that the young man had determined to talk to Karlis. He approached them nervously and greeted them all in the name of Tash, inquiring after their health and that of their family. The whole time they spoke, he cast subtle sideways glances at Karlis—all of which were missed but for one, which she returned with a warm smile.

After several moments though, Karna bid him farewell and hurried her younger sisters away. They passed beneath a great archway and came to the river homes that were owned by the diplomats and noblemen, Tarkaans and Tarkheenas. After passing several of these beautiful homes, they came to a large, handsome building. Around it spread a wide, courtyard-like garden with a merry fountain bubbling in the centre, and fruit trees growing upon a large, smooth lawn of grass.

Instead of entering this home through the gate, they moved toward the side of it and entered a small door cut into the wall at one end. After descending a small flight of stairs, they entered the lower floor of the home; hurrying into a small chamber in which several other girls were changing into beautiful garments of blue and green.

They quickly did the same, taking three other such outfits from the pegs on the wall. Such was expected of the servant girls of great men like Master Tirshan. In Calormen, if one was rich, one showed it off to the best of one's ability, such as through dressing one's servants and slaves in beautiful clothes. These garments were a uniform for the three sisters and each servant girl was expected to dress beautifully and always be clean.

After quickly inspecting one another, the girls filed out of the chamber and down the corridor towards the dining chamber, where their master would meet them and instruct concerning the day's employment. Once there, the head servant girl, a beautiful but rather haughty girl named Kediza, quickly inspected each girl, making sure that all of them were suitably presented for the arrival of their master and the day's work ahead of them.

About a minute later, the doors were swung open and Master Tirshan entered. A small, enormously fat man, he had risen quickly with the favour of the Tisroc after gaining immense wealth through the construction of several homes. The grandest of these was the Tashbaan home of the great Ahoshta Tarkaan, the Grand Vizier. Despite his riches, Tirshan had always failed to gain that which he pretended to have: nobility. Arraying himself as finely as any Tarkaan, he lived under the guise of being a nobleman, referring to himself as one in all but name.

Tirshan entered the dining room, taking in the sight of all the servant girls, brightly arrayed in their fine clothes. They gave him a smug reminder of his wealth, the remembrance of which caused him to puff out his large chest in pride.

"Yestereve, the great Tisroc (may he live forever), saw fit to summon his servant Tirshan, and made a request of him. He informed him of a decision he had made, and that decision was to house his barbarian visitors within one of his servant's humble homes. Thus, it is the will of great Tash (may he be praised) that my home is to be used for the barbarian visitors when they arrive.

"Within the party is the barbarian queen meant to marry the great Prince Rabadash, and with that in mind, many plans will have to be made. For, as the poet says, no great building can be wrought by idle hands; much preparation will need to be done so that the mighty Tisroc (may he live forever) will be honoured before his guests. Thus, the home chosen for the housing of the barbarian guests must be perfectly prepared and carefully maintained during their visit.

"They will be arriving after the fulfilment of the winter months, half-way through the season of the spring, and as such, several alterations will need to be made to the home to make it suitable. It will be the responsibility of you all to clean the home, and keep it clear for the length of their stay. You will also be required to give entertainment upon the evening of the feast I will be holding in welcome of their visit. May Tash the great, the inexorable, the irresistible, deign to hear our prayers this day."

With a nod, he bent his head and raised his arms, reeling off a long, much-used description of Tash's greatness. He followed that with a lengthy prayer to their god, asking him to give guidance to the great Tisroc (may he live forever) on this day, to help them all do him the honour that was his due through their actions.

After the prayer had ended, Master Tirshan swept majestically from the room; his long cape brushing the floor as he strode and the mass of frills that covered his stomach fluttering with every step.

For the remainder of the day, the servant girls could speak of nothing but the barbarian visitors who would be coming with the New Year. Rumours spread throughout the household as the girls whispered excitedly about what the barbarian land was like, of the bewitching beauty of the barbarian queen, and the handsomeness of the pale-skinned men who came from the land far to the north.

"What is the barbarian land called?" Karna's friend Tamara asked.

"I'm not certain, but I think that I heard Kediza refer to it as Narnia," a girl answered, scrubbing at a particularly tough stain.

"Is it true what they say? Is the skin of all the men as pale as cream?" Karlis asked, not focusing upon her work as she tried to imagine such a thing in her mind.

"Apparently," the other girl replied. "It just sounds very strange, doesn't it? I can't imagine what a pale-skinned man would look like."

"I don't think that anyone could look well with pale skin," Tarlana stated, "at least not next to Prince Rabadash."

At this, many of the girls giggled, for it was common knowledge that Tarlana was besotted with the Calormene prince.

"But Tarlana, any man pales in comparison to your prince!" Tamara exclaimed with a giggle.

"Yes, and all of these Narnian men are sure to," Karna added, causing widespread laughter.

"I wonder if the barbarian queen is as beautiful as she is supposed to be."

"She must be to have bewitched Prince Rabadash," Tarlana said loyally. "His judgement cannot be questioned."

"How long ago did he visit the barbarian land, Tarlana?"

"This summer past. He returned with the reaping of the harvest, and now they return the favour."

"Do you think that they will be handsome?" Karlis asked, still fantasizing about the pale men from the north.

"I thought that your thoughts were more filled with that of a certain butcher's son?" Tarlana asked slyly, grinning at her sister's blush.

This caused immediate outbursts from the other servant girls:

"Ahoz! How long have you been interested in the butcher's son, Karlis?"

"He is handsome … has he given you any encouragement?"

"I knew that you would not stay unmarried long. You are the fairest of all of us."

Karlis flushed anew, uncertain how she should answer.

"He smiled at her a few days ago and came up to speak with us this morning. That is all," Karna replied for her sister, shooting a glare at Tarlana.

Karlis gave her a grateful look.

"You seem well suited for each other," Tamara stated, smiling at the younger girl. "Do you like him?"

Karlis finally found her tongue and replied that she did.

"I wish that I could find a husband. I'd give anything to get away from my father's home; the baby screams late into the night, I haven't had a decent night's sleep for weeks," Lamarla said.

"Is your mother still breeding, Lamarla?" Tarlana asked in surprise. "You must have a real houseful now."

The girl nodded, suddenly ashamed of her complaining. "I am now the oldest of nine. Father is struggling to feed us all. Even though my sister and I work, we are running out of room at home."

Karna nodded, thinking of the small amount of floor space that was left within her own home when all of the family was asleep upon the mattresses.

"But if Tash (may he be praised) wills it, then the children are a blessing, Lamarla. It is not for us to question," Tamara stated.

"But if her Father cannot afford to feed the new baby, what is the purpose of its birth? Why would Tash (may he be praised) allow the child to be born?" Karna asked, finding it difficult to understand. "Why create life only to then destroy it through hunger?"

"It is not for us to question the great Tash (may he be praised), Karna. He is God. We cannot question how he decides the loss and creation of life. It is the way he has designed the world, and the way it must be."

Karna was silent for a time, barely listening as the conversation returned to that of the barbarian visitors. She rubbed vigorously at a tile, trying to understand in her mind why a god who created life would seek to destroy it so soon after its birth. It just seemed so wasteful, so meaningless to create life in such conditions, to let innocents suffer a painful fate that they did not deserve.

But then, throughout her life, Karna had asked questions. She had often wondered why people had to dominate one another, forcing others into compliance through violence. One of her earliest memories was of Tarneesh beating her on a night when he had returned home drunk after a particularly bad day at the market. Unprovoked and cruel, he had hit her for merely sleeping across his path.

For many years, she had wondered why he seemed to beat her so much more than her siblings. Why treat Karna differently when she had tried so hard to please him? As she grew, the question festered in her mind, and she would think about it long and hard considering what made her different? As she sought answers, it gradually dawned on her that she did look different than her siblings; she was taller than the rest.

She had the delicate face of her mother as well as her small hands and dark eyes. But when she tried to find a resemblance between Tarneesh and herself, there was none to be found. It had made her question whether there was something…different…about her birth, but she always feared asking about it.

As they walked back to the chamber in which their clothes were hung, she knew she couldn't feel satisfied or accepting anymore. She wanted to know who she was and to have the possibility that she could have something to be glad about. For years she had forced herself to accept a miserable existence; now she wanted to strive for something that would make things change.

After their dismissal that day, the three sisters left the home of Master Tirshan with Tamara and Lamarla. After parting with the two friends at the market, they returned home, arriving just as Hezal was returning from the communal pool with the bed linen.

"I am glad to see you have returned," she said. "There is a great deal to be done. Your Father has been invited to dine with Master Ryadin the butcher and his son. He told me that it was for a very particular reason, and I need your aid, for we have to prepare your Father's best clothes. Karlis take up your needle and embroider your father's best coat more elaborately along the neckline. Tarlana, take out the oil and work a shine into his best shoes. We will not be shamed in front of a man who wishes to invite your father to dinner! Karna, you help me to prepare the cordial that will be one of your Father's gifts of gratitude for the invitation."

The girls obeyed their mother at once, each quickly heading to her allotted task. As soon as Karna and Hezal had begun the steady pulping of the oranges to be used for the cordial, she touched her mother very gently upon the shoulder.

"What is it, Karna? Why do you look at me in such a way?"

Glancing to make sure that both her sisters were in the other room, Karna asked directly: "Mother, who is my real father?"

Stunned, Hezal simply stared at her before closing her eyes tightly. For a moment, her gentle face became pained, and she brought her hand to it, resting her head heavily upon her arms.

"Why do you ask this question now, my daughter?" she asked wearily.

"Please, Mother, I need to know. I know that I cannot be the daughter of your husband."

"But why do you think this?"

"I look at myself, and I see you within me; I see your eyes, see your features, but I see nothing of him. Please, tell me the truth of who I really am."

Finally, Hezal looked up, and Karna saw sadness within those dark eyes that she had never recognized before. For, although they had never had much within their lives beyond the three rooms of Tarneesh's home, Karna had always known her mother to be content and never complaining, always seeing the good in every situation. Through the hardships and poverty of their lives, she had always been constant, giving her daughter the love that she had never received from another person.

"I cannot speak of this now, my daughter, but I will tell you the truth tonight, once my husband has left. We shall find solitude, and I will tell you of what you ask."

The hours that followed passed with agonizing slowness. As she brewed the cordial, Karna grew impatient, believing that it would never thicken as she steadily added the juice of the lemon. Eventually, however, it began to condense, and she was able to add the remaining ingredients, careful to keep it at the same temperature so as to ensure the right consistency.

When it was eventually completed, she was just pouring the finished cordial into a clay jar when Tarneesh entered. Dusty and exultant, he was followed by his two sons, looking satisfyingly empty-handed and pleased with himself.

"Wife," he declared exultantly, "today has been a great day. Not only has the great Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible, given me a great profit, but he has also given me the invitation of the butcher, which may well end with the settling of one of my daughters."

This startled all. Seeing Karlis flush before a quick lowering of her eyes, Karna could easily guess the hopes that dwelt within her heart.

"It is a day of great joy. I have even purchased a special gift so that you might all celebrate in my triumph. Kanzeesh, bring it forward."

Nodding to his father, the eldest son brought forward a large haunch of meat, dumping it upon the floor by the fire.

"I thank you, my generous husband for the gift of this meat. We shall have a bountiful meal tonight in celebration of your success and a great day."

The next hour was spent preparing Tarneesh for his meal, with his entire body being washed, his hair thoroughly cleaned, his skin oiled, and his beard neatly plucked after the current Calormene fashion. His clothes were carefully scented with cyclamen to give them freshness, his turban was one of new material, and after slipping into his newly shined clogs, Tarneesh swept as majestically from the home as any Tarkaan. In front of him, Kanzeesh bore a torch as he strode through the streets.

"Do you think that great Tash (may he be praised) would bless me with such a marriage, Mother?" Karlis asked as they ate their evening meal, half of the meat, which had been carefully spitted and turned gradually by their mother for the past hour so that it was tender.

"If great Tash (may he be praised) wills it, I am certain that it will happen, my daughter." She smiled at the obvious joy that the prospect of the marriage brought her daughter.

Karna watched her younger sister with a great happiness. There was little fondness found in Calormene marriages, and love matches were unheard of. Normally, the parents, based upon the financial standing of each family, reached a marriage settlement. It was a rare pleasure for a possible bride-to-be as young as Karlis, still full of romantic ideas, to be so glad at the prospect of a marriage.

"What think you of young Ahoz, oh my sister?" Kanzeesh asked, savouring the rare taste of freshly roasted meat.

"I think him very strong and capable, oh my brother," Karlis replied, careful to give the expected answer. "He would be a good husband, and I will try to be a good wife to him if an understanding is reached."

Nodding in satisfaction at her answer, Kanzeesh rose with Andur. After nodding to their mother, they left to visit the local tavern.

Karna and her mother were able to slip out of the house soon after the boys' departure, heading out under the excuse of going to draw water. They moved in that general direction but stole quickly into a deserted back street. Once there, they settled themselves upon some steps, and Karna waited, watching her mother's profile in the fading light, suddenly noticing the fine lines that had cut into the smooth skin of her face with the lengthening of years.

Her mother turned to her, the same sorrow of earlier returning to her eyes as she stared upon her eldest child for a long moment. She seemed to meditate upon Karna's features. After a time, she reached out and traced Karna's face with a finger, slowly moving over her forehead and down her nose, to softly cup her cheek. She dropped her hand soon after, a bitter smile crossing her lips.

"You have so much of him within you, Karna. You may have my eyes, but you have his nose. You have his litheness of movement, his grace and poise." Her smile softened. "And his generous spirit."

She lowered her eyes, sighing, and after drawing her shawl closer about her shoulders, continued, "Your father was a great man, one of the most celebrated warriors of all Tashbaan in his day. He was called Harradin. No one could best him in swordplay. He was so swift and agile, he moved with such ease and grace that he made it seem more like a dance rather than actual sparring.

"He won renown for his talent, prestige in battle, a reputation for honour and valour. When we married, I was the bastard daughter of a Tarkaan, but he was kind to me. He taught me what it meant to be loved. He was such a rare man, so gentle and considerate. There was none like him.

"When I found myself to be pregnant, we were overjoyed. When you were born, he held you tenderly in his arms, loving you beyond any other thing, promising to always protect you. He named you Karna after my mother; such was the measure of his love for us both.

"Then, in a great battle, when the fighting was ended. The Tisroc (may he live forever) had been victorious, and as a special honour, your father was called upon to cut the enemy's head from his shoulders; but he refused. He would not kill an unarmed and bound man. Tisroc (may he live forever) commanded it, yet he still refused, and for it, he was struck down instead of the enemy. He was immediately declared a traitor, and we were left with nothing.

"Everything was confiscated; our beautiful home with the rooftop garden, his horses, and our possessions. I was sent back to my father's house in disgrace, with a year-old daughter, the only child of a traitor. They tried to take you from me, but when I refused, my father forsook me. He declared that I was no daughter of his and married me off to the first man he saw in the street. In the end, it turned out to be Tarneesh, and he has been a good husband. He has provided for me, kept a roof over both of our heads, and I have bourn him four children of his own.

"So the outcome could have been far worse. Great Tash (may he be praised) has blessed us both and provided us with everything that we need. I have learned to be content, and so must you, my daughter. If Karlis marries Ahoz, there will be one less mouth to feed. We shall be able to save money and add them to the funds my husband has already saved so that Kanzeesh may take a bride. It will be well for us. I can sense it."

Karna was silent for a time; sitting motionless, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, slowly digesting the truth of who her father had truly been.

"Why have you never spoken of this before, oh my mother?" she asked, still staring at the ground.

"Because that is past. Tarneesh is your father now; you never knew Harradin, and I thought it best that he be kept from you. I thought it might help you to accept your existence, without having delusions as to what could have been."

"But what would have been so wrong with those delusions?" Karna asked, suddenly angry. "What would have been wrong with giving me something to dream of? Tarneesh does not love me, mother, he never has. He will always resent my sleeping under his roof. I will always act as the reminder of how he married the widow of a traitor."

"Do not speak so of Harradin! How dare you?"

Karna saw the fury in her mother's eyes, at once regretting her outburst.

"Harradin was no traitor. He merely sought to show mercy to a man who deserved none; that is true courage. Never did he kill merely for the pleasure of it. He only took life in the defence of his land or family.

"I kept his existence from you for your own good. The delusions of which you speak would have given you no relief, Karna, only embittered you to the life you live. Dreams such as these are not healthy. We cannot live in a dream. It is true that we might find joy for a time in this life, but it does not last, and this is how great Tash (may he be praised) has deigned it to be."

Slowly taking Karna's face in her hands, she raised it to look into the tear-stained eyes. With incredible gentleness, she kissed her forehead before taking her daughter in her arms.

"I know that you suffer, dear one, but see the good, for we have a roof over our heads and food to eat. I have wept for my dear husband, and I will fight every day to see you have a life filled with greater joy than my own. But know, Karna, it will probably not happen. So hope for joy, my daughter, but be content with what life gives you."

Karna felt the soft touch of her mother's fingers wiping the tears from her cheeks. She looked into that sweet, gentle face, seeing the love that shone from her eyes. As a child might, she flung her arms about her mother's neck.

In that dark, deserted street, she wept dry the hopeless tears of eighteen years.