Interlude 14. Somewhere In The Sultanate…

Aisha huffed. Darn husk just wouldn't move! That narrow passage between the two houses was the most convenient way to the well, and the husk just would not step out of it. She knew better than try to manhandle the dead body chock-full of magical bees, but nothing else she tried registered with the darn thing. As it was, she was forced to circle around the whole quarter, adding more than twice over to her overall path. Which, while you were unladen, was not that much of a deal, but mattered a whole lot when you were walking back with a heavy clay jug of water on your head!

She snorted and turned away from the annoyance resolutely. The fear she used to have when the curse descended had long ago abated into a dull apathy. The rules were simple. So long as you did not grasp a weapon or a flower, dead would leave you be. Mostly. As the third son of Ahmed-bey Masoud had amply demonstrated, simply being up to no good is also a no-no. Thinking it up is fine, acting on it? Well. Right until the moment you raise your hand to someone else, then it's bees. Cadavers allowed a certain leeway, while at that - facsimile casting was permitted, for all the good that drawn or folded flowers could do. Using knives for cooking or craft was also permissible, so long as you left the knife where you were working with it or packed it up with other tools before going anywhere.

So while the initial weeks were a time of great terror and many horrifying deaths, life had soon settled into some kind of perverse serenity. As blasphemous as the thought was, Aisha mulled, as she circled the quarter diligently, the dead ended up being a better shield for the poor than the sultan ever was. In no small part because the dead also shielded the poor from the sultan and his beys. She exchanged a greeting with one of the greatest benefactors of the dead rising up, passing by him as her thoughts strayed in that direction. A slave who used to be unable to even speak up because of the collar with harsh conditions, now counting the days until the ship was to take him back to his northern country. Kraut, to hear the guy tell it, was a land of wonders and freedom. His former master was among the first to perish due to blunt refusal to even consider taking off the armband that controlled his slaves by their collars. The man was dead, the armband still dangling off the shriveling arm as his body ambled around, buzzing and lurching, the collars popping open with his demise. That, in itself, was rather weird. Normally, if a slave owner died, their armband could be passed to another member of the family and reliably held the slave meanwhile. Ones who run afoul of bees? Their armbands were very much lost and the collars connected to them popped open by themselves. A condition of the curse, apparently. The vast majority of slaves suddenly found themselves entirely unhindered, mostly due to the dead owner. A few still had their collars locked, but no one would dare to put on the matching armband for the fear of dead and bees.

The same thing happened across the country. Slaves finding themselves without any passable way to actually keep them enslaved. The second wave of violence that blazed on the heels of that revelation was almost bloodier than the initial bee culling, even if not quite as numerous in corpses. Still, many a slave had taken bloody revenge on their former master and escaped in the chaotic first weeks. This, among other things, was held as proof that "shaitan hanum1devil woman" from the north was planning nothing less than a complete demise of the Sultanate. Common folk quietly disagreed. The end of beys? Sure, entirely possible. The end of people? Not really looking like it. When all is said and done, the husks and the bees proved themselves to be better city guard than guards themselves, because they took no bribes, saw no titles and cared for nothing but maintaining their mandate, regardless of anything and anyone. Now if only they could understand simple words...

Emptying the full jug into the basin in the middle of the yard, Aisha sighed. It would take a lot more trips before she could honestly say there is enough for the needs of the household. A lot more. In a fit of pique, she grabbed the other jug and as she passed by the husk blocking the passage, she thrust the jug into its hands, snapping - "'ajaeal nafsak mfydana, ealaa alaql!2Make yourself useful, at least!" It grasped the jug, making those weird slurping-buzzing noise the husks usually emitted. Then, much to her surprise and alarm, it began following her. Blinking, Aisha turned back to the yard, circled around the basin and... YES. The thing followed her! Fine then. Using the freed passage, she ran towards the well, filled her jug and trotted back as quickly as she could before the mindless thing could change its absent mind and block the passage again. Much to her flabbergasted surprise, it actually brought in the full jug and emptied it into the basin right after her. Intrigued, Aisha set the jug aside and stood aside to watch. And it was worth watching, alright! The husk would shamble over to the well, shamble back in and empty the jug into the basin, then immediately depart for the next portion.

"Ya lilfurh. Alan ealay 'an 'ashrah hdha bitariqat ma.3Oh joy. Now I have to explain this somehow." - she muttered, considering the suddenly helpful husk with a baleful eye. On one hand, it was unusual, and therefore possibly dangerous. On other... The possibilities. Now it all hinged on if she could dupe the husks into fulfilling some of the other menial chores...