The Princess

Of all of my brides, none has inspired the worship of Tanyth of Clan Abibaal. Crimson Tanyth, Tanyth the Fair, the Crimson Flower, Angel of Castellandria, she has as many epithets as she has admirers. Her beauty is legendary. Many look upon her statue in the ruins of Mercy Square, one made by a master sculptor and as true to Tanyth's features as a mirror, and wonder if such a sublime creature could have ever been flesh and blood.

Even those who admire me wonder how I could have possibly wooed her. I say now that I do not know how I won her heart. I know only that she loves me and I her. I was able to give her a life beyond dreaming, and she continues to give me uncounted years of joy. She could have stayed in decadent Kharsoom, been renown for her beauty, perhaps her mercy, her kindness, her bravery. But when she became my wife, she found immortality in every sense of the world.

I did not know how our love would bloom when I beheld her in Ghanappur, nor when we fled with the fighting men of Clan El on our heels. I knew only that she was exquisite, a prize any lord of Kharsoom would go to war over. Even then, I would have stood against an army for her. I do not believe any who have been in her presence would not.

Our route took us into the wasteland, where our pursuers would fear to follow. We had an advantage that Clan El could not duplicate. They needed clean water. We could drink poison. Tanyth expressed amazement over my sweetwater goblet, and once again I told its story. When I handed it to her, her delicate finger traced the lines of the dead barnacles encrusting its tarnished silver surface.

"The magic only works on the inside of the cup," she observed.

"Exactly right, Your Highness," I said.

We paused to fill our bellies and our skins only once, at a stinking mud pit. I was alert to another ghalak ambush, but none came.

"The scent isn't strong enough," Shaluvia said, reading the tension in my shoulders. "Ghalaks were here, but not anymore. I think."

"Your certainty fills me with comfort."

The warmaid smirked. "Hurry, we are not deep enough into the wastes to slacken."

We mounted our qobads and rode hard through the day. The sun beat down on us, drying the sweat as soon as it hit the air. Dust bit my face. By the time we stopped for the night, I was beyond exhaustion.

The wind had teeth that night. We found a place between high rocks that would shield us in part, but nowhere in the Red Wastes could be truly comfortable. I barely had the strength to hobble the birds, and Ksenaëe had no desire to do anything but roost.

Shaluvia and Tanyth shivered, the princess hugging herself. "I'll build a fire, my lady," Shaluvia said.

"With what?" Tanyth asked, looking about at the rocks as she hugged herself.

"I will look about. I will find something. We need to keep warm."

"You will get lost in the dark. We have furs. We will make do with them."

"Two furs for the three of us."

"We will share."

"Your Highness, you can't share with him!"

"Don't be foolish. My survival is far more important than any lascivious rumors, and besides, there will be no rumors because no one here will talk."

Shaluvia glanced at me. "He is honorable."

"There. You will be between us anyway. He could not defile me without your help. I am freezing and will hear no more discussion."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

We gathered ourselves with some difficulty, wrapping ourselves in the furs. As we planned, Shaluvia was in the middle, on her side. I was behind her, and was careful not to wrap my arms completely around her. That would have caused me to touch Tanyth, and that was not to be. One hand remained resting lightly on Shaluvia's hips, and I could not escape the memory of what I had been doing the last time my hand had been there. As for the Princess, she was face to face with her warmaid, the larger woman embracing her charge. The heat from our bodies joined and covered us, giving some comfort against the bitter Kharsoomian night.

I was exhausted in my bones and assumed that sleep would come quickly. Yet I was still buzzing from the escape from the castle, and I could not be so close to two such exquisite beauties and not be aroused. The fact that Tanyth was forbidden only made her more alluring. She was, she is, the sort of woman one writes poetry about. The kind of woman one starts wars over. The kind of woman one tears pieces of the world out from their roots to please.

I concentrated on falling asleep, but the more I tried to embrace my exhaustion, the more I was aware of the body pressed into mine. Shaluvia was not still. A shift here or there, her buttocks caressing the front of my loincloth and banishing any dreams I had of sleep. My entire world was the warmth of the warmaid against me.

I remained as still as I could, resolutely fighting the urge to press myself into her. Yet she would not stop moving. Her buttocks pressed back into me, capturing my staff between each hemisphere, then moving in a slow circle. This could not be an accident.

She was a madwoman. I knew that. I had seen her in battle and lain with her afterwards. She would take so foolish a risk for the pleasure of the reward received. She would not let me lay with Tanyth, for honor forbade it, but teasing me? Yes, that was Shaluvia.

I sucked in a breath at the back of her neck, taking in her womanly scent. My fingertips played over the hard muscles of her hips, caressing where they coiled beneath her taut flesh. I traced the line of an old scar, a memento of one of her many battles.

She gave a tiny moan on the edge of hearing. My suspicions confirmed, I briefly wondered what I would do. Then I remembered something important. I was not Kharsoomian. I was not sworn to Tanyth's virtue. I was, as I was continually reminded, a barbarian. Such a savage would not allow matters of simple decorum to restrain his lust.

Carefully, my fingers curled around the iliac points of Shaluvia's pelvis, pulling her to me as I pressed my hips forward. The line of my staff found the cleft of her buttocks. I was rewarded with the circling of her hips, the muscular hemispheres caressing me. Any lingering doubts I had were gone. There could be no mistaking her intent.

I kissed the back of her neck, my tongue running up her spine. I tasted the wasteland itself, the bitter dust that clung to her skin. My hands caressed her, from her hips, over the leather belt, to her waist. Scars were picked out in the contours of her muscles. She pressed back harder.

I could resist her no longer. I pulled my loincloth up, freeing my staff, now turgid with need. I briefly thought of the amusement of my various Kharsoomian paramours at my penchant for the garment. This would have been easier without it.

I reached between the warmaid's legs, finding her spreading. Her thighs were already slick with arousal. Her orchid was hotter than a shadeless stone at noon, but so soft and inviting. She needed this as much as I.

This was mad of course. Tanyth was in the furs with us. I could not think clearly, though, when Shaluvia placed me at her gates, and pushed her hips down. We gasped in unison as I entered her. I kissed her neck, my hands finding her hard nipples. Thoughts of Tanyth were gone now, even as we were cloaked in the same furs.

We found a rhythm, nothing more than simple rocking. My hands played, down from her breasts, over her belly, down to tease at her pearl. She hissed in pleasure, taking me deeper. I forgot Tanyth was anywhere close. This was merely what Shaluvia and I did.

I pushed myself up, to drive my staff deeper into hers, and I looked over the warmaid's shoulders into a pair of violet eyes bright with lust.

"Keep going, boldisar," Tanyth said.

Shaluvia's eyes opened. "Your Highness," she gasped. "Forgive me--"

"There is nothing to forgive. Do not stop. I want to watch."

Shaluvia's movements against me were stuttered, unsure. "Are you certain, Your Highness?"

Tanyth nodded. "I want to see. Is he... is he inside?"

"Yes, Your Highness," moaned Shaluvia, her arm reaching back to curl about my neck.

I thrust deeper into her, erasing the last of her words with a cry. Impulsively, I reached to Tanyth to kiss her. She leaned forward. Though her eyes were closed, somehow Shaluvia sensed this, her sex clamping down on mine and her hand closing over my face.

"No. She is to remain untouched." Then the warmaid locked eyes with Tanyth. "Watch me, Your Highness. Watch how he takes me."

Tanyth moved under the furs and I did not have to guess at what she was doing. Her violet eyes went smoky. "How does he feel?"

"Wonderful," Shaluvia moaned. Then, to me, "Harder. You know how I like it."

I responded with a brutal thrust, taking every inch of her. My eyes remained locked on Tanyth's. Though it was Shaluvia's body, vital and strong, writhing at the end of my staff, it was Tanyth that I was truly laying with. I watched her match my pace, her arm moving in time with my thrusts into her warmaid. Shaluvia's grunts grew higher, more desperate with each stroke.

Tanyth's attentions upon herself reached a crescendo. She shuddered, her hands finding some good spot on her. My thrusts quickened. Shaluvia broke then, shuddering. The sudden loss of all control took the pleasure that had been brewing in me, and took me to the edge. I could hold on no longer, and, at the last moment, I pulled myself from her. Only then did the bliss rake its claws over me.

Tanyth squealed in surprise and pleasure as I splashed over her, her own bliss catching her at that moment. Her eyes found mine again, alight with the forbidden pleasure of what we had just shared. Reality crashed in upon us. This was, at most, an interlude. The three of us lay cradled in the heat of the furs, our breaths slowing.

"You spilled all over me," Tanyth said finally, amusement in her voice.

"I did not mean to."

"Let me clean you," Shaluvia said, reaching for her charge.

"Leave it," said Tanyth. "I like the feel of it on my skin."

"You will tell no one," Shaluvia said, and I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or Tanyth. I assumed both. "You are to be untouched when you are wed."

"I was," Tanyth said. "I am."

"You understand my meaning."

She sighed. "Yes, Shaluvia."

"We will need a better plan next time," I said.

"My back," Shaluvia said patiently. "You were supposed to spill upon my back."

"The angle," I protested.

"You were besotted," Shaluvia said, her tone somewhere between affectionate and annoyed.

Tanyth giggled. "You could always just do that again."

Shaluvia's tone turned serious. "Your Highness, please."

"I promise," she said. She was silent, biting her lip. I longed to press my own against her, but I could not. "Until we return, I want to pretend, can we do that?"

"Pretend what, my lady?"

"Pretend that I am not a princess of Kharsoom. That we are three friends who travel over the wastes."

"Your Highness," Shaluvia warned.

"Nothing more than this. I want to watch the two of you. I want to feel what it's like. Before we return home and my father marries me off to some soft noble. Let me watch a boldisar take a warmaid."

I stroked Shaluvia's hair. I was so enamored with Tanyth that I would have done whatever she asked, but her words had the ring of reason to them. "She is not making a mad request," I said. "We've already done this. We will not speak of it and it does not violate the letter of the law."

"My senses had..." Shaluvia trailed off, her mind finding another pathway. "I needed you. This was foolish, yes, but repeating it..."

"I liked that," Tanyth said. Then, a wicked grin. "I liked watching your faces when the bliss came upon you."

"Your Highness, that is the kind of statement that would get me whipped and Bel executed."

"I know," she said seriously. She kissed Shaluvia's mouth gently, leaving her palm against the other woman's chin. "Do this for me. I will never betray you, nor him. You are my saviors."

Though I could not see Shaluvia's face, I recognized the tone in her voice, because it was the same as mine. "For now, Your Highness," she conceded. Denying Tanyth was impossible, even for one inured to her charms.

We traveled quickly over the wastes, surviving on what water we could find. Shaluvia knew well the roads between Ghanappur and Eirashtar, the seat of Clan Abibaal. She judged the likely path of our enemies as taking them around the erg that we had been able to cut directly across. We road hard in the daylight, and enjoyed one another at night. Each time I took Shaluvia, I lost myself in the violet seas of Tanyth's eyes.

We emerged onto the road a few days later with some relief, and Shaluvia guided us north and west. We were not on the road for two days before a dust cloud stained the flat blue skies ahead. We approached with caution, as a dust cloud in the Red Wastes seldom heralded anything pleasant.

As we approached, we began to see a full caravan, a train of wagons pulled by hearty uroks, flanked by outriders on qobads. It was a full host, ready for war. I reached for Ur-Anu, ready to fight or flee, when my eyes went to their banners. Purple flags snapped in the Kharsoomian wind, each one emblazoned with a silver scorpion. The outriders were already riding for us, ready to determine if we were friend or foe.

Shaluvia spurred her qobad, raising her hand. "Hail, Clan Abibaal!"

The outriders, a small coterie of five, reached us. The five of them wore matching harnesses, the captain a scorpion at his throat. "Your Highness," said the leader. "The sight of you fills us with joy."

Tanyth smiled back. "Captain Samas-sum," she said. "You can't know how glad I am to see you."

"Come, Your Highness. Your father leads our host. We were ready to attack Ghanappur to retrieve you."

Samas-sum escorted us back to the column, cheers raising as the fighting men recognized Princess Tanyth. Looking into their eyes, I believe every last soldier there was in love with her. I believe that everyone who meets her falls in love at least a little. She had that effect on people. Not only her incredible beauty, but her powerful charisma. She is a leader and she does this effortlessly.

As we approached the train, the uroks grunting and tossing their heads, a man emerged from the central wagon. Kharsoomian, he was tall and thin, ropy muscles covering his long limbs. His black hair had gone gray at the temples. His harness was fine, and his jewelry modest. He wore a diadem on his brow that matched the one Tanyth wore, decorated with a scorpion and an amethyst. He carried a single Kharsoomian blade on his hip. As he saw Tanyth, his kind face exploded in a smile.

"Light of my soul!" he called.

"Father!" shouted Tanyth. She leapt from the qobad and ran to him. The two embraced tightly.

"Let me look at you," he said only after they had held each other, staring at her with such love that it warmed me even from my distance. "You look well."

"I was not abused," she said.

"I never would have forgiven myself if you had been." He turned to Shaluvia. "Thank you, Shaluvia. You've done Clan Abibaal a great service today."

"I did only my duty."

"You did more than that." He turned to me. "And who are you? You must be a friend, but I do not know you."

Tanyth, her arm wrapped about her father's skinny waist. "This is Belromanazar. He's a boldisar who aided Shaluvia on her quest."

"Noble boldisar, I am in your debt. I am Prince Hadirseen of Clan Abibaal. You will accompany us to Eirashtar where we will show you the gratitude and hospitality of my clan."

"I thank you, Your Highness," I said.

"And you," he said to his daughter. "You have a wedding to prepare for."

"Father," she protested.

"No more of that. Prince Sharbat is a good man and Clan Bazaya a good ally. He has already been waiting, and terribly worried about you."

"I don't love him."

"Love is for slaves and barbarians," he said. "We are Kharsoomian. We have nobler purposes."

"You loved Mother."

His eyes softened. "I did. More than I ever thought possible. But we were children of gentler times, I'm afraid. Your duty is to the clan and I'll hear no more of it."

He ushered her into the wagon. She looked back at Shaluvia and me with an aching longing in her eyes. I understood then that our dalliances, the games we played beneath the furs, those had all been a fantasy to her. One she had not allowed herself to take completely. Now they were over, and she was back to her life.

The caravan turned about, and we made our way west. As we got underway, Shaluvia's qobad rode up next to mine. "You needn't look so glum," she said.

"Do I?"

Now her face was melancholy. "All who look upon the princess fall in love. She is destined for other things."

"I understand. I... I have a quest. This delayed me from it."

"We should enjoy our time together then," she decided. "Unless I am no longer pretty enough for the likes of you."

I chuckled. "Shaluvia, you have the beauty of a finely honed blade."

She preened. "You should not forget that."

The ride to Eirashtar was swift. The roads sped our passage, and though it was not as direct as cutting through the wastes, it was fast enough. Clan El would not give up its chance for Tanyth. This I knew with unshakeable certainty.

I saw little of the princess, as she spent most of her time in her father's carriage. When I did see her, she would be staring from the windows, her eyes on nothing in particular. In her eyes was the despair of resignation, of knowing what she had to do, but wanting no piece of it. She was safe, but it was a safety without joy or wonder.

As we reached the edge of the Forest Issatesh, relief sagged in the shoulders of everyone in the caravan. It was a strange experience to see these people comforted at the bizarre sight of the dead field of onyx trees, but these were the Red Wastes. Everything was upside-down.

Eirashtar was built on the shores of a dry lakebed, a few pathetic streams veining the city center as a remnant of what was once plenty. The city itself was half empty, its people having departed its ruins for the rule of a clan on stronger footing. Ruined edifices loomed dark, their windows empty like the eye sockets of sun-bleached skull.

Clan Abibaal's castle perched on a crag that must have once had a lovely view of the lake. Now, it only overlooked the desolation of Kharsoom. In some ways, Kharsoom was a wonder. It should have been empty, its people migrating to greener lands. Simply crossing the Edda Aroyac would have delivered to them a land of plenty. But they refused to go. They clung to their wasteland, I suspect because it was theirs. There are times I admire this resolve. There are times I pity it. Kharsoom has vanished from this world, though in some ways it is the rest of humanity that has taken their place, clinging to a world that has lost its use of us.

Forgive me. This is about my romance with Tanyth. I don't know what it is about her that puts me into such an introspective state. She often teases me for my brooding. And she still has her lust for life even after our countless years together. My life would be immeasurably poorer without her.

In any case, upon our arrival, we were feted as heroes. Shaluvia and I were given places of honor at the prince's table, and we ate our fill. Through the meal, I noted Tanyth's eyes upon me more than once. Whenever I met them, they darted away.

"Brave boldisar," Prince Hadirseen said as we were finishing the last of our meal, "I would offer you the use of my bedslave. I have only the one, but I'm told she is quite skilled."

"Told?"

"I do not partake of her charms," he said, melancholy tinging his voice.

"Your offer is appreciated, Your Highness, but I find I must decline."

A gasp rippled over the table. I knew enough to know that I was being unconscionably rude. "Decline?"

"You see, Your Highness, I planned to lay with Shaluvia, and I fear that another might get in the way."

He stared at me, and then broke into a grin that turned into a guffaw. "Yes, yes I can see how that might be the case." He chuckled, shaking his head, then saying to himself, "In the way."

"Thank you for that" Shaluvia muttered wryly.

"You are annoyed?"

"I did not need my dalliances aired at the table," she said, "but I am pleased you still find me desirable."

"More than desirable."

She gave me a flat grin. "I'll punish you for your indelicate words tonight."

"I look forward to it."

The prince's majordomo, a free man named Zidon, showed me to my quarters. They were not especially expansive, but more than adequate for my needs. A bed, a fireplace, a window overlooking the lakebed, they were lovely. Shaluvia joined me at nightfall, and we frolicked in the furs together.

In the daytime, I drilled with the castle guard, explored Eirashtar, and hoped to catch a glimpse of Tanyth. Shaluvia would not leave her charge in daylight hours, still unable to forgive herself for Tanyth's abduction. I could have pointed out that Tanyth sneaked out at night, but that would have robbed me of Shaluvia's company. I am many things, but not that great a fool.

Clan El arrived at the city's gates six days after we did, assembling a great host among the onyx trees. Alarm bells alerted us in the castle to their arrival, and Hadirseen led his fighting men down into Eirashtar to meet Clan El. I was impressed with the man, for he never hesitated. Some nobles were cowards, but not Hadirseen. His men would defend the people of the city as sure as they would defend him.

I joined his host, trailing the prince's entourage. Tanyth was by his side, Shaluvia at her shoulder. Tanyth was a vision. Her chin held high, she marched out with her father, the essence of nobility. Her silken half-skirt flared out behind her. As she passed, every man stood straighter, held his weapon tighter. I climbed up onto the ramparts to look at the host assembled. The scorpion flapped on its field of purple.

As I mounted the ramparts, I was treated to my first glimpse of Clan El's forces. They were impressive. They clogged the road leading to the gates and were everywhere among the onyx trees, waiting for the order to attack. I had no doubt that the city could be made theirs.

A man on the back of a brightly-plumaged qobad rode to the head of the column. I recognized Prince Enlilbanipal, and loathing for the man filled me. He was a walking and talking insult, not only to me but to Tanyth. It was the second that I could not countenance.

"Hadirseen!" he called, his voice high and reedy. "I have come for what was stolen

from me! Return my bride and your people shall live!"

"Enlilbanipal, cousin!" Hadirseen called back "You abducted my daughter and she escaped. According to our traditions, you have committed no crime but have no claim upon her. Return your host to Ghanappur and I will give you food, water, and a slave to warm your bed. Let us talk as nobles together."

"The time for talk is over! Return Princess Tanyth to me, or suffer my wrath!" Enlilbanipal spat. Had he taken Hadirseen's offer, he might have been allowed to marry her. Yet I believe that was the problem. Enlilbanipal objected to being allowed to do anything. He must take.

Tanyth looked to her father, steel in her lovely eyes. "A challenge, father."

"Challenge?"

"A duel."

"He will not accept."

"His honor will force his hand."

"My daughter--"

"Great Prince!" Tanyth called out, cutting her father off. "I offer you a challenge! A duel, according to the ancient customs! Win, and I will accompany you! I will be your bride and bear your sons! Lose, and you will depart with nothing!"

Enlilbanipal grinned. "You would do this?"

"Willingly. Do you accept?"

"I accept."

"Name your champion, my prince."

"My champion will be Amukkan."

Enlilbanipal gestured, and a giant rode up next to him. Amukkan was Kharsoomian, his crimson skin covered in scars. He was at least a full head taller than me, with limbs like tree trunks. His belly was vast, but that implied not even a little weakness. It would make him tireless, and the fat and muscle there would guard his insides from all but the most terrible of attacks. The huge man wore his hair in a topknot, with a pair of mustaches hanging from the corners of his lips. He hefted a two-handed cleaver, a weapon fashioned of the heavy pelvis of an urok. He could likely cut a man in half with one stroke.

Enlilbanipal smirked as we beheld his massive and terrifying champion. "Who will you name, Princess?"

Shaluvia twitched, ready to step forward, but I was swifter. "Me. Belromanazar of Thunderhead, known as Ashuz, Farmer, and Blackspear. I will spill your man's blood and secure the safety of Princess Tanyth."

Enlilbanipal's eyes went flinty. "You."

"Me."

"Brave boldisar," protested Hadirseen. "This is a duel to the death."

"I plan to kill him," I said mildly.

Shaluvia grabbed my arm. "You fool," she snarled. "This should be me."

"You need to stay here with her."

Shaluvia's amber eyes held only hatred for me. I would never again see the affection that I had grown to crave. I would not be swayed from my path, and as fearsome as Amukkan was, I knew I could defeat him. He might kill Shaluvia, but Ur-Anu, my spear, would give me the edge I needed.

"One thing," called Enlilbanipal, the smirk never leaving his obnoxious face. "The Farmer's weapon is known to be enchanted. A proper duel cannot be held with such a dishonorable advantage! Give him a different spear."

My blood ran colder than the night winds of Kharsoom. My victory was abruptly far from certain. I couldn't back down. Tanyth's eyes were upon me. I handed Ur-Anu to her and her eyes widened as she accepted the weapon.

I held out a hand, and Hadirseen pressed his own spear into it. "Take my spear, Belromanazar. Go with honor."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

I was about to take the steps down when Tanyth said, "Wait."

I stopped. She came to me, and after the space of a single breath, got on her toes and brushed a soft kiss on my cheek. "Go, my champion," she said.

I could have flown. I strode out of the city's gates. A cheer went up Clan Abibaal's fighting men. Amukkan leapt down from his qobad, hefting his enormous cleaver. I clutched Hadirseen's weapon. It was steel-tipped, a rarity in Kharsoom. Perhaps that would be the only advantage I needed.

I stood with my back to the city walls as Amukkan approached our place of battle. As these are my memoirs and not his, it should be no surprise as to which of us won this duel to the death. It was a narrow thing. Had I been a hair to the left or right on numerous occasions, my story would have ended in the Red Wastes, cut down on the road into Eirashtar. Fool that I am, I believe it was the kiss Tanyth pressed to my cheek that gave me the power and skill to prevail. When I finally thrust Hadirseen's spear through Amukkan's heart, I swayed before him, my chest aching, my leg weeping blood from a cut the Kharsoomian had nearly finished me with. Mine had been a desperate final blow, and had it not landed, I am not certain I could have managed another. As it happened, I did not need one. Amukkan collapsed onto the road, his last breath gurgling into the dirt.

Enlilbanipal stared coldly at me. In his eyes, I believe I saw calculation, wondering if he could still order an attack. If he would be willing to sacrifice his honor to slay one who had humiliated him now twice over. Yet this was Kharsoom. He might have won the day but the other clans would hear of it, and they would turn on him. He knew this too.

"Go," he said finally. His entire column turned about and rode, leaving Amukkan's body to rot upon the cracked stones of the road. A moment later, Hadirseen's men emerged from the gates, two of them putting my arms about their shoulders to help me inside.

"I owe you again, brave boldisar," Hadirseen said.

His men bore me to a litter and from there up to the castle. Hadirseen's personal healer tended to my wound and bade me rest. That night, in the courtyard, they burned Amukkan on a pyre, honoring his valor. This act made me respect Hadirseen all the more. An enemy who dealt honorably could be respected in death.

Against the healer's wishes, I was brough to the edge of the courtyard to eat, to listen to music, and watch as the fire consumed the brave warrior. I felt some lingering sadness, for Amukkan had been a skilled combatant. He should not have been sacrificed thus.

I waited, thinking Shaluvia would come to me. I saw her from time to time but she never looked in my direction. I was considering finding my way back to my quarters when a voice sounded behind me. "Thank you." It was Tanyth. She stepped up next to me, and her perfume caressed my senses, embracing me as she could not.

"It was my honor."

"Was it? You have gone far beyond what any boldisar would do."

"I am a barbarian. I don't know any better."

She giggled. "There is something Kharsoomian about you."

"I have not heard that before."

She knelt by me and a delicious tingle ran its fingers up the back of my neck. "When you became my champion today," she said. "I knew I was safe. I knew you would triumph."

"Your confidence makes me proud. It was not so obvious a conclusion."

"For you, perhaps. I never doubted." She took my hand, and I found myself caressing her fingers. She opened my palm, and pressed a piece of cloth into it, and closed my fingers about it. "For you, my champion." Then she left me.

I looked at what she had given me. A piece of purple cloth, the scorpion sigil of Clan Abibaal in silver. On it, I caught a scent of her perfume, that scent she had created for herself. I did not understand the import of the gift in Kharsoomian culture then, but I treasured it immediately. I have it still.

The following night, I stayed in my quarters by a merrily blazing fire. The wound on my leg stung me, but the healing unguents soothed the worst of the hurt. I waited, certain Shaluvia would arrive shortly for our nighttime games. Surely she would forgive me for my rash act. In those days I retained the optimism of youth.

A knock sounded at the door and my heart quickened. Before I could tell Shaluvia to enter, the door opened and Tanyth slipped in, shutting the door and leaning against it. A mischievous smile lit her face. My heart abruptly thundered and my face grew hot.

"Your Highness?"

She put her finger to her lips. "I'm supposed to be in my room."

"I know that."

She crossed the room and knelt by the side of my bed. I watched the golden light of the fire dance over her crimson curves. Reluctantly, I picked one of the furs off the bed and handed it to her. "Take this, my lady."

"Thank you, Belromanazar," she said, wrapping it about her.

"When I heard your knock, I thought you were Shaluvia," I admitted.

"She sulks in her chambers. You wounded her pride."

"Yes. I don't feel good about that."

"You can make amends to her when she's not brooding."

"When will that be?"

"I know her well, but I don't know that."

"How did you slip away from her?"

"I slipped away from her once. You don't think I could do so again? Besides, she wants me safe, and I'm here with you."

"I have not been called safe in some time."

"You are safe to me. To any who would threaten me? I think you would kill them without hesitation."

Her words were warmer than the fire. I found I couldn't respond.

"How does a barbarian become a boldisar?" she asked finally.

"The usual way, I expect. I was captured by slavers, sold in the market of Deszu, escaped..."

"I have heard that you escaped by cutting your way out of the hippdrome in Ghanappur."

"I did."

"You Clan El's enemy before you had ever heard of me."

"They have a price on my head. Clan Sesamhat as well."

"Where they call you Farmer."

I chuckled. "That was a nickname from a friend of mine."

"It is very silly for so fearsome a man."

"I am fearsome?"

Her eyes sparkled. "To your enemies. To your friends you are gentle." She paused. "Shaluvia tells me you were a wizard once. Will you tell me that story?"

"It will take more than one night."

"You won't leave here until your leg is healed." Her finger traced lines in the fur.

"I suppose you're right." I thought it over, wondering where I would begin, how much I would tell her. There was only ever one choice in that regard. "My story starts in the middle of a rocky coastline in Chassudor, in a kingdom no one thinks much about, even those who live there. I was apprentice to a cranky old man named Rhadoviel, and my only friend was a night eft called Oddrin..."

Every night for seven days, Tanyth slipped into my chamber and I told her stories until we could hold sleep off no longer. She slipped out then, for it would be a scandal should she spend the night in my chambers. She was easy to speak to, and I found I hid nothing from her. She enjoyed the tales of adventure but her eyes truly sparkled when I spoke of my paramours, of love and lust and all the feelings in between.

Shaluvia still had not forgiven me. I could not regret what I had done at the gate. Perhaps I should have allowed her to fight Amukkan. Without Ur-Anu, she had as much of a chance as I. Perhaps even better. I had seen a chance to prove myself to Tanyth and I had seized it. I would never be allowed to have her, but even the thought that she might bear some affection for me was enough.

I could exist in this delicious dream until the arrival of Sharbat of Clan Bazaya. He came to Eirashtar a week and a day after Enlilbanipal had left. My heart fell, as Sharbat was Tanyth's intended. I began the process of steeling myself for her loss, though I never truly had her.

Sharbat arrived at the head of an impressive host, though nothing so strong as Clan El. I got my first look at him as they were let into the castle gates, a great caravan bolstered by outriders on qobads, and spearmen on foot. Most impressively, a cyclops marched with them, bearing a club fashioned from a stone tree. Clan Bazaya's banner, a stylized sun on a field of blue, flapped in the breeze.

I regarded the cyclops warily, but I needn't have been concerned. Though the party was armed for war, this was a celebration. Prince Hadirseen and Princess Tanyth came out to meet them, and I tried to catch Shaluvia's eye, but she resolutely looked forward. Then I got my first glimpse of Prince Sharbat as he disembarked with a middle-aged couple I took to be his parents. Their harnesses were rich and they fairly dripped with jewelry. This would be a fine match for Tanyth. Clan Abibaal needed some form of power, and wealth would always be that. I could never offer Tanyth the same. My only fortune had been in my adventuring career, and I imagined that would be largely gone by then.

Prince Sharbat was a handsome young man, scarcely older than Princess Tanyth. He cut a handsome figure, his muscles lean and his face pretty in a boyish sort of way. I had the impression that the swords he wore on his belt were not solely for show. I hated that there was nothing immediately wrong with him. In fact, he looked to be a good match for her. Much more so than a boldisar twice her age.

I watched them greet each other, Tanyth shy around the handsome young noble. My heart turned sour, and I could watch no more. That night, I returned to my quarters with a bottle of akaberry wine, willing to drink the foul stuff if it would make me forget my princess for a time.

That night, with the bottle gone and me contemplating the fire, I heard a knock at my door. Once again, it was Tanyth. I was shocked, though far from displeased, to see her.

"What are you doing here? Your bridegroom is in the castle." My tone was perhaps more bitter than I intended.

"He is running the Gauntlet of Silk," she said with theatrical weariness.

"What is that?"

"You have a Kharsoomian heart, but not a Kharsoomian mind," she said, taking her customary place by my bed. "It's a tradition. Before a man may be worthy of his bride, he must lay with her handmaids."

"I thought that a lord never lay with his lady's maids."

"This is the only time it is permitted."

"Why?"

"A man is expected to be able to please his wife. He may have multiple wives, concubines, and bedslaves, but she must make do with him." She paused. "And her maids, I suppose. But he is her only man."

"I think I see the reasoning."

"The handmaids try him out. He must please all three of them. If he leaves any of them unfulfilled, the wedding can be called off."

"Is that common?"

She shrugged. "I've heard of it happening more than once."

I sighed, wondering how much hope I had, to pin it upon the poor performance of a boy. "Right now, Sharbat is bedding your three handmaids." I chuckled. "Lucky him."

"You want to bed my handmaids?" she teased.

"I wouldn't object."

"The brave boldisar wouldn't object. You could always try your luck. They are free to lay with whoever they choose. But no, that would hurt you and Shaluvia, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know. I angered her when I fought Amukkan. She has not forgiven me."

"That is unfortunate. You two were so pretty together."

"What of you? What do you hope for?"

She looked into the fire, finding her thoughts. "Sharbat is fine to look at. Of all the bridegrooms my father suggested, he is the least objectionable."

"That does not sound like love."

"I am a princess. Love is a luxury for other women."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"Do you like being in love?"

I chuckled. "That is a very strange question."

"Why?"

"Of course I like being in love."

"I liked hearing of them. The djinn and the darkling. You must miss them terribly."

"It is pain, but I prefer to feel it. Its absence would feel worse somehow."

"You will return to them."

"Once I regain my power. I'll not return home half a man."

"If this is half, I would love to see the whole."

My heart gave a kick. "Perhaps you will. I'll return and pay my respects to Princess Tanyth of Clan Bazaya."

"Sharbat still has to defeat the Gauntlet of Silk before that can happen." She took a fur from my bed and wrapped it around herself. "Now, tell me another story."

"Is that a command?"

She smiled, and I melted. "Does it have to be?"

"No, Your Highness."

"Tanyth. When we are alone, I am Tanyth and you are Belromanazar." She paused, thinking it over. "Your name is too long."

"Bel is fine."

"Bel and Tanyth." She huddled in the fur. "The story?"

"Let me tell you of the death of Rollin Maidenbane."

I woke early. The castle was abuzz, every resident gathering in the main hall. The air in the room was thick with tension. The feeling certainly implied that the Gauntlet of Silk was more often failed than Tanyth implied. I could not allow myself to hope. As I told her the tale of the bandit, the lost city, and my dragonblooded paramour the previous night, I let Tanyth go. She would be wed soon, out of my reach.

Tanyth and her father sat at one end of the great table. She was trying to look like she was eating without actually eating, moving her food about the plate without bringing any to her mouth. Hadirseen kept looking at the doorway that Sharbat would emerge from.

At the other end of the table, Sharbat's parents ate, apparently oblivious to the tension from Clan Abibaal. Or perhaps they were merely better at hiding it. They kept up conversation between one another and a distracted Hadirseen, ignoring all of the commoners in the room. That itself was a good lesson for me. I was a boldisar and thus had some status, but it was a strange and informal sort, and would break against nobility.

"Ah, here he is," said Sharbat's mother.

Prince Sharbat entered from the Abibaal wing of the castle, followed by Tanyth's handmaids in a line. They were exquisite creatures. Two were Kharsoomian, and one could have come from nearly anywhere in Uazica. Their faces were unreadable, and their hands were clasped demurely before them. Sharbat went to stand behind his parents, and the three handmaids lined up at the side of the table. All attention turned to the trio, mine included.

"A good morning, brave prince," Hadirseen said with the air of someone reciting formal dialogue. "And you, lovely maidens. Did Prince Sharbat successfully navigate the Gauntlet of Silk?"

Ku-Aya, the handmaid I would later learn was the unofficial leader of the three, stepped forward. She was the shortest of them, with a pleasing pear-shaped figure with wide hips, shapely buttocks, and thick thighs. She looked into Hadirseen's face. "He failed, Your Highness." Her eyes flicked to Tanyth's, and something passed between them.

"What?" Hadirseen asked. Every other word had apparently fled him.

"Prince Sharbat failed," Ku-Aya repeated.

"A lie!" protested Sharbat, his words coming. "I pleased them!"

"You swear to this?" Hadirseen asked the handmaids.

"Yes, Your Highness. We found him wanting," Ku-Aya said, and the other two bowed their heads and nodded.

"You cannot take the words of these three," said Sharbat's father.

"We can and we will," Hadirseen said. "My humblest apologies, but we will not wed our clans."

"This is an outrage!" spat the father. "You would break our clans' alliance on the word of a handmaid?" The way he said handmaid it was clear he had another word in mind.

"This is a tradition," Hadirseen said. "Without tradition we become barbarians. The Gauntlet exists for good reason, and if a man fails it, he is not a worthy husband."

"You speak of barbarians when you invite one to sup at your table?" the prince's father leveled a finger at me.

"You should have a care," I said mildly. Triumph filled my limbs. The boy had failed. Tanyth could be mine for a little while longer. And I did not care for the nobleman's tone.

The room went quiet. Then, in the quivering silence, the prince's father said, "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Belromanazar," warned Hadirseen.

"Have him whipped this instant."

"He is a boldisar and a barbarian bedsides. He knows not of our ways," Hadirseen apologized.

"It's true," I said. "I am liable to start killing and then where will it stop?"

I glanced over and found Tanyth's violet eyes dancing. She took in a shuddering breath, and smiled it me. I could have fought all of Clan Bazaya.

"Let your clan fall," said the prince's father. "Clan Bazaya will not be your salvation!" He rose, storming out, his wife, son, and retinue following. The courtyard was shortly filled with the noise of the gathering caravan.

Hadirseen turned to the handmaids, who hadn't moved since their announcement. "The three of you couldn't have lied?"

"We are sorry, Your Highness. Our duty was a sacred one."

"They were looking after my joy, father," Tanyth scolded.

"And we are without an alliance. Clan Abibaal is doomed."

"There are more men out there."

"But Clan Bazaya was the best match. They are rich! Powerful!"

"So are other clans, father. Find me another. A man who cares for the pleasure of his wife."

Even after Clan Bazaya left, I knew I could not stay. Shaluvia would not forgive me and I did not have it in me to watch Tanyth be married to another. My leg was not quite fully healed, but I had traveled with worse. I resolved to leave in the morning and I waited for the nightly visit to tell Tanyth.

The knock sounded and Tanyth slipped into my room, sitting by the side of my bed, and accepting the fur I gave her without thinking. It was so easy for the two of us, the way we slipped into patterns without meaning to. She could set my blood on fire with a look and calm me with a word. Yes, I loved her then, and I had only recently admitted that obvious fact to myself. More than the casual love Tanyth inspired in everyone. A deeper sort of love, for the woman beneath the beauty.

"What story will you tell me tonight?" she asked. "Or do you want to hear something of Kharsoom?"

"I want to hear about you," I said. "For tonight is the last night we will share. I leave in the morning."

She sat up, horror in her eyes. "Bel, no! Your leg."

"It's well enough to travel. I have a quest, Tanyth. One that I have ignored for too long."

"Do you know where you are going?"

"To Tele'kili. Mount Sorrow. I'm told it's near here."

"There are wild places nearby that no civilized person has set foot within. Places where even a man such as you could get lost. You need to know more. Our library, Bel. Have you been to our library?"

"No." I knew they had one, as all Kharsoomian nobles did as a sign of wealth, but I had yet to be impressed by what I found there. Kharsoomians liked the idea of books, but the books themselves were less important.

"Go there first. We have one of the finest collections in Kharsoom. I'm no scholar, but I believe that if you needed guidance, you would find it there. Better to research than to ride blindly into the wasteland. If you were lost, I would never forgive myself."

I sighed. She was right, but that would not make her finding love any easier. "Very well," I said. "I'll stay. Perhaps a week."

"Or two," she said. "We have a lot of books."

"I might need assistance. I don't read Kharish nearly as well as I speak it."

She relaxed. "I would be pleased to help you."

"Would you tell me about you?" I asked.

"I'll tell you anything."

There was no shortage of suitors. The next to arrive was Halzuu of Clan Laqip. He too failed the Gauntlet. As did Nindintu of Clan Basha. And so forth and so on. Each time the handmaids announced the failure, they did it with barely concealed mirth. The insulted delegations reacted in much the same way Clan Bazaya had. Their pride had been wounded and they had learned they lost Tanyth, all in the same moment. It was more than they could bear.

Tanyth assisted me in her family's library. True to her word, it was certainly the most impressive I had seen in Kharsoom. It would not have been anything to most nobles in Rhandonia let alone somewhere cosmopolitan like Castellandria, but for Kharsoom, it was a good collection. Still, with her help, I was able to draw hints from the texts. I began to draw a map, consistently updated, that told me where Tele'kili was to be found.

Then, every week, another callow noble would arrive and he would try to touch the sun. None of them were worthy of her. Each time one attempted the Gauntlet, my guts tied in knots. Then, when their failure was announced I unraveled, always knowing that it was only a temporary release.

My leg healed. It was time for me to leave. My heart ached at the prospect of leaving Tanyth behind, but I could not stay. My quest called to me. There was nothing to stay for anyway. Shaluvia still would not speak to me and Tanyth would soon be wed.

I sensed I had worn out my welcome. Not merely Shaluvia, but I believed even Hadirseen was growing tired of me. Only Tanyth seemed to crave my company, and while that was more than enough for my heart, it was not enough for reality.

Once again, I prepared myself to depart.

"You are recovered," Tanyth said on what I believed to be my final day. We were in the library, looking at texts we had already been through many times, both of us knowing we were trying to drink from a dry well. She touched the pale line of where Amukkan's blade had sliced my thigh. I shivered at the touch.

"I am." I offered her a wan smile. "Tele'kili awaits."

Impulsively, she embraced me. The heat of her body touched mine. Her nipples traced lines of fire over my chest. I held her only for a moment, before pushing her away. "Tanyth. Your Highness, no."

"Forgive me."

I reached for her face and caught myself before I touched her smooth skin. Her breath caught in her throat. "There is nothing to forgive, my princess," I said.

"I will see you off tomorrow," she said, and left me there. As she vanished through a doorway, I thought I saw her shoulders shaking.

I assumed her words meant that she would not visit that night, and I was surprised when the knock came at the appointed time. One final night of stories, then. It would make the parting hurt more, but now I craved that hurt.

When the door opened, I was surprised again. Tanyth entered, this time followed by her three handmaids. The three of them wore their collars, and golden bracelets and anklets. Their bodies glistened with oil, and they were surrounded in a halo of perfume. They lined up before the fire, hands clasped, watching me with interest. I was nude beneath my furs, and I felt my body begin to respond to the lovely sight of the four women.

Ku-Aya stood in the middle. She was the most assertive of them, the one who announced the failures of the nobles. She was also the shortest, with a pleasingly plump buttocks and thick thighs, but a narrow waist and small, perky breasts. Her black hair was chin length, and oil held it back from her forehead. Her eyes were a bright sapphire blue, and her skin a deep crimson.

Akadina was the other Kharsoomian, her flesh more scarlet than crimson. She was tall and slim, long limbed and lithe. She had a dancer's body, everything in sweet proportion, and she moved with a languid grace. Her hair black hair was short, framing her lovely face and displaying her bright amber eyes.

Last was Itzamatul, who hailed from somewhere in Uazica. Her skin was olive with undertones of bronze, her hair long and black. Her figure was more of an hourglass, with heavy breasts and flared hips. A triangle of black fleece sat between her legs, oil clinging to the hairs in golden droplets. I had been in Kharsoom so long that such things had become to feel exotic.

Tanyth stepped forward. She wore only her jewelry that night, and the firelight dancing over her oiled curves. "On your final night with us, Belromanazar, I give you a gift. Tonight, you will use my handmaids however you like."

"Tanyth, this is..."

"Hospitality," she finished. "You want them. They want you. Enjoy one another." She sat down by the fire, watching us.

The three handmaids approached me, one on each side of the bed. "The brave boldisar is trembling," Ku-Aya said.

"We will make him tremble more," Itzamatul said.

Tanyth's eyes held the same fire that had been there when she used to watch Shaluvia and me. That look was what pushed my trepidation behind me. If this was the one way we could lay together, I would make it memorable.

I hauled Itzamatul to me, brushing her hair away from her face. For a single blessed moment, I saw my Ixem, and I pressed her to me, my mouth plundering hers. I guided her on top of me, though a fur was a barrier between us. Her mouth was tart. She had been chewing akaberries.

I felt strong hands on my cheeks, pulling me from Itzamatul. Ku-Aya had sat on the bed beside me, and now pulled me into her kiss. Her tongue was more adventurous than her fellow handmaid's. The sensation pushed me, I fondled Itzamatul's breasts, relishing the hiss of pleasure as her nipple hardened beneath my attention. I felt a presence behind me, and Akadina's hands ran over my shoulders and down my chest. I leaned back, my lips finding hers. I felt lips and tongues on me then, Ku-Aya and Itzamatul running over my flesh. I lost track of whose mouth was whose. It became a lovely undifferentiated mass of sensation that I contributed to, running my tongue over crimson skin and bronze curves.

"Let us see what we have," said Itzamatul, pulling aside the furs to reveal my spear in all its turgid glory. The questing mouths and hands now played over my sex, leaving nothing unexplored. I was covered in their juices, their oil, their saliva. I licked and sucked their lips, their nipples, any patch of skin I could find.

I found myself between Akadina's slender thighs, her sex blooming as she knelt over my face. I took her mound in my mouth, giving her a deep knight's kiss. She arched her back, crying out, pushing against my explorations. She was delicious, the oil, the perfume, and her own natural nectar combining into an ambrosia.

Ku-Aya and Itzamatul were not idle either. They kept their attention on me, teasing my body. I was nothing but a collection of sparks, like lightning crawling over me. Akadina undulated, her hand in my hair, ger body shivering.

I felt the slick embrace of a mouth over me, sucking me to the back of a throat. Then released, a tongue chasing the sensation. Another, slightly different, the tongue smaller, the mouth deeper. I knew then that it was the other two, taking turns on my length as I played with their friend. I found myself pushing against them, and they were game, taking me deeply, giving me the attention I craved.

Akadina's grunts turned to cries. She shuddered uncontrollably, and her nectar flooded my mouth. I swallowed, kissing her once above her slit. She fell from me, laying on her side, wrapped over my head like a cat. I was treated to the sight of Ku-Aya and Itzamatul working on my staff, stoking the fire that burned brightly in my loins.

I reached down, pulling Itzamatul to me. She grinned, crawling up my body, kissing as she went. She ran her tongue up my neck, over my lips and kept moving, positioning her breasts over me. I took her hint, teasing the nipples in my mouth, bringing them to full hardness.

Below, I felt Ku-Aya's mouth upon me, then the stroking of her agile hand, back and forth. Then as Itzamatul backed off, I felt Ku-Aya guiding me to the other woman's sex. The Uazican handmaid sat back, taking me all at once. I grunted as the sensation seized me. She grinned, her insides massaging my length. She looked down at me, her skin glistening and chest heaving as she gently moved up and down over me. She found a rhythm, gently riding, expertly rolling her hips with every sweet stroke.

Akadina's juices had soaked my beard and flooded my senses. The room was heavy with our aroma. Not merely of love, but of oil and perfume, and the arousal of all of us, of the fire blazing in the hearth. Itzamatul took me to the hilt, then a slow roll as she held me, purring happily. Ku-Aya came up behind her, stroking her body, giving my eyes something to feast on.

"How is he?" Ku-Aya asked.

"He is close," Itzamatul said, rolling her hips. "I can feel him shudder."

"Finish him. Show him how sweet we can be."

I clutched at Itzamatul's hips, pushing against her, though she scarcely needed any assistance. I fought against the rising bliss. I would not let it take me so easily. The vision above me continued her stroke, and I noted a slight tinge of confusion on her happy face. Her breath was coming quicker, a tremor in her body that would not cease.

"He is not finished?" Akadina asked, stroking my hair.

"No," gasped Itzamatul. "He is close. He is so close, I..."

Her shivering gave way, the expert use of her hips taking her. I pulled her over onto her back, an act that raised another choked cry and a fresh series of quakes, before pulling from her sodden sex. The bliss was upon me, but before I could do anything, Ku-Aya was there, sucking me into her mouth. That was enough. My body was afire as I filled her. She coughed, my seed spilling from her lips, as she tried to swallow.

I sat back. Itzamatul was insensate, Akadina cradling her head and stroking her hair. Ku-Aya looked to Tanyth.

The princess gave a wan smile, and for a moment I thought my lust had betrayed her. "It is--" She never finished her sentence.

I came up behind Ku-Aya, pressing into her thick buttocks, kissing her neck. Pearly streams ran down her chin as she looked over her shoulder in surprise. "What?"

"I am not finished," I said, kissing her neck. "You are not finished."

She raised her eyebrows and a look passed between her and Tanyth. "What will you do?"

"What I have imagined since the moment I saw you."

I bent her over and she acquiesced, then I pulled her considerable haunches up to me. I had been thinking of these glorious buttocks, their wonderful, jellylike expanse. I kissed one hemisphere, then the other, giving them both a gentle slap.

She purred, pushing her hindquarters up. "You like that, do you?"

"Allow me to show you how much."

I spread her cheeks, finding the ring of burgundy flesh winking at me. I teased around its edges with my tongue, and she purred. Then I reached between her legs and began to caress her soaking folds. She moaned, encouraging me with the movements of her hips. I looked up from my prey. Tanyth sat by the fire, her shapely legs spread, her hand busy between them, the other caressing her nipples. Our eyes met as I pressed my tongue against Ku-Aya's rosebud. The handmaid let out a squeal as she let me in.

I licked and nibbled, never slacking my pace against her hard pearl. I never lost sight of Tanyth through this decadent act. I explored every inch of Ku-Aya, worrying the sensitive ring, penetrating her, taking her as mine. She moaned and sighed, her flesh rippling as she shuddered through my attentions. Then I brought myself up, placing myself at her opening.

"It is a foolish man who tries the back roads," Ku-Aya teased breathlessly, her glistening body moving in rhythm of my former strokes.

"Or a brave one," I said, pressing into her.

She uttered a broken scream as I took her. I watched with delight as I sank into that dark ring. She clenched about me, and though I could tell by her shivering that she was losing control, she still had enough to use her muscles to milk me. My hand returned to her sex, and I continued my massage as I pressed into her. I was determined take her to the hilt.

Ku-Aya's face and shoulders were pressed into the furs, her small fists gripping them tightly. Sweat ran down her back, her flesh quivering with need. I took her searing inch by inch, pulling whimpers from her with each new intrusion. She could not stop moving, not as I teased her pearl, the pleasure a counterpoint to the delicious pain.

Then I was buried within her. I began to rock, the oil easing my stroke. She was past reason, sobbing curses in Kharish. I gave her buttocks a hit, then a second, the jiggling inflaming me. She yelped, first from the impact, then from sparking me deep inside her.

Smoky amethysts met my eyes. Tanyth was splayed, and now I saw that she was toying not only with her sex but sliding an oiled finger into her rosebud. In that moment, the distance between us was erased. It was she I impaled, her whimpers I cherished.

Harder and harder I took her until she broke. A single choked cry came from her as her body was lost to quaking. That was what pulled the bliss from me, her movements igniting me. I felt myself filling her, and when the first hot rush entered her, she cried out again. Ku-Aya and Tanyth's sounds joined one another and I could not be certain whose was whose. Even as I held the handmaid, it was the princess I saw writhing beneath me.

I collapsed against Ku-Aya, holding her, breathing hard. Akadina and Itzamatul gently pulled us apart, Itzamatul holding her fellow handmaid, who could not stop shivering, while Akadina tended to me, kissing my face softly. We lay together for a time in the delirious twilight of our passion.

Finally, Tanyth rose, and the handmaids gathered themselves, leaving my bed, Akadina and Itzamatul assisting Ku-Aya. Tanyth kissed me on my cheek. "A gift, Belromanazar. Do not forget me."

My eyes held hers. "I could never forget you."

They left me then, and shortly, sleep claimed me.

The following morning, I made my way down to the main hall to eat something before leaving. I was still buzzing from the previous night, the aftermath of the incredible pleasure lingering in my body. I wanted to see Tanyth one final time. I could not escape that transcendent moment, buried in Ku-Aya, my eyes in her. I was certain that would be the closest I would ever come to laying with her.

"Brave boldisar," said Hadirseen as I entered. "What is your plan for the day?"

"I am taking my leave of you, Your Highness. With gratitude for your hospitality. The quest calls."

"I understand," he said, and I thought I detected some relief. "Depart as friend to Clan Abibaal, and if you should find yourself passing through, you will find yourself welcome here."

Tanyth, her handmaids, and Shaluvia entered the hall. I noted with some amusement that Ku-Aya walked gingerly. "Good morning, my daughter," said Hadirseen. "Belromanazar has told me he is taking his leave of us.'

"I know, father." She looked to me. "You will be missed, my friend."

"As will you," I said. The words hurt. I wanted to say more.

"We need to speak of your wedding." Hadirseen said to his daughter. "I plan to send word to Clan Ahinadab. I believe they have a son of the appropriate age."

"Clan Ahinadab? They are a shadow of what they once were."

"You rejected those clans with the strongest position. We are running out of suitors."

"I have an idea in that regard," she said. A blush rose to her cheeks, and my heart grew hot. Leaving may well kill me, but staying as worse.

"Oh? I could use an idea."

She took a deep breath. "Belromanazar."

My heart stopped, coughing through my sweetwater.

Hadirseen looked at his daughter blankly. "What of him?"

"As a husband. For me."

"Tanyth, he is unsuitable. He is not noble."

"He is a boldisar. That gives him nobility.'

Hadirseen chuckled. "Of a sort, but come now. He is a brave man, a good one, but he is not suitable."

"I say he is."

"You need a marriage that will secure the future of Clan Abibaal."

"Belromanazar will do that, and far better than those callow boys you tried to give me to. They would think of Clan Abibaal as lesser than their clans. They would sell us if it meant protecting themselves."

"Perhaps," Hadirseen said. "But he is one warrior. How can he protect us?"

"He is stronger than any clan's champion. And he is a wizard."

"He is a what?"

"Well, he was a wizard and he is regaining his powers. If it was known that we had one of the only wizards in Kharsoom, no clan would dare move against us."

"Tanyth," I protested. "I am not a wizard."

"You said you will be. Were you lying?"

"I would never lie to you."

"I know," she said. And those two simple words made me willing to die for her.

I looked to her father. "I will marry your daughter."

Hadirseen was flummoxed. "But... I don't... the Gauntlet of Silk! He must complete the Gauntlet." The prince threw his hands out as he desperately gripped the one thing that might keep me from his daughter.

"He has," Tanyth said.

"He what?"

"Last night."

I stared at Tanyth. "That... that was your plan," I said.

She gave me a small smile. "I am sorry for deceiving you."

My heart was light. I loved her even more. "You are magnificent," I murmured.

"You see?" Tanyth said. "He is suitable. He has run the Gauntlet. He is the one I want."

Hadirseen sighed. "Very well. I wish I could deny you, my daughter. Welcome to our clan, Belromanazar. May you have better luck with her than I."

Preparations consumed the household. Hadirseen saw no reason to delay, and I longed to consummate my feelings with the incomparable princess. Tanyth was whisked away from me, and I would not see her again until the wedding. Zidon, Hadirseen's majordomo, was assigned to me to aid in my preparations. The first thing that was explained was that, despite my not being noble, I would need a banner to represent myself. Inspiration hit me like a thunderbolt, and it would be my sigil from that moment to today.

"A feathered serpent, white, on a blue background," I said.

Zidon nodded. "We can have that made."

When they presented it to me, it was simple work, but good enough for its one-time use. Later I would have artisans fashion it into a proper sigil, and when I returned to Kharsoom to finally finish my feud with Clan El, it would be under the feathered serpent.

For now, the banner would be carried by a pair of warriors who would symbolically be given to me for the duration of the wedding, a comfortable fiction that I was more than a landless boldisar. In but a few scant years, it would fly over the ramparts of a kingdom that I ruled.

Zidon then gave me books that described precisely what would be required of me on the day. What I would say, what I would do. Kharsoom was a land of tradition and weddings were perhaps one of the most important. One day, I was out in the courtyard, memorizing the words I would speak, when I felt a presence.

"You got what you wanted," Shaluvia said. She was close, though not quite close enough to smell.

"You're speaking to me," I observed, not looking up from my reading.

"You will be my mistress's husband. I must speak to you."

"My goal was not to wed her."

"Though you are not upset at that turn."

"No."

"You loved her the instant you saw her. I saw it in your eyes."

"Yes," I admitted. "I dared not dream I could be worthy, but I could not stop myself."

She sighed. "You will make a decent husband for her."

"Thank you."

"You can at least fuck well."

I snorted. "There is always that."

"You will take care of her?"

"With my life."

Shaluvia nodded. "I believe you."

The day of the wedding arrived. It was my first. Strange to think, as I considered Zhahllaia and Sarakiel to be my brides in every way that mattered. Yet my blood jangled that day at the prospect of this ceremony. I can only surmise it was because I loved Tanyth so and I lived in terror that she would be taken away from me. She would not be. This aspect of my story is a happy one.

The gods were dead, thus a proper Kharsoomian wedding was not in a house of worship. The only place they would accept was the top floor of their towers, where the open walls looked out over all the clan ruled. Weddings took place at dawn, when the air still carried the chill of night but had not surrendered to the punishing heat of day.

As the air was just beginning to turn blue, I, with my retinue, made my way into the tower. I carried Ur-Anu, a sign of my power, while my two ceremonial guards bore my feathered serpent. I was nude, without even a harness. On the way, I passed sentries, men I knew, all armed for war. This was a ceremonial show of strength, Clan Abibaal announcing to me that they were not to be trifled with.

As I emerged on the top floor, the chill air caressed my bare skin. I turned to the east, where Tanyth waited. The rising sun haloed her nude form, turning her into a breathtaking silhouette. Tears sprang to my eyes and my breath caught in my throat. I had never beheld anything so beautiful.

Prince Hadirseen stood at her shoulder, Shaluvia at the other. Her handmaids were present as well, as was Zidon and a few other of the most senior servants. This was a place for the elite of the household.

"Hail, boldisar," said Tanyth.

"Hail, Tanyth of Clan Abibaal. I come to take you as my wife." The response was ceremonial. I stood with my back to the west.

"Will you take my clan as your own?" she asked. "Will you take up arms for me? Will you sire my bloodline?"

"Proudly. Will you take my family as your own? Will you take up arms for me? Will you bear my bloodline?"

"Joyously. Come to me, my lord husband. Kneel a boldisar of the wastes, a barbarian with neither name nor lineage."

I stepped forward to kneel at her feet. My face was level with her taut belly. I could see the tiny scar where the scorpion usually pierced her flesh, but that was gone for now. At a Kharsoomian wedding, the couple had to be entirely nude, nothing between their union. Her perfume invaded my senses. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anyone.

Her father handed her a diadem. It was exquisite craftsmanship, a feathered serpent set with a sapphire, newly made for this occasion. She set it on my brow. "Rise a lord of Kharsoom, the sire of an ancient bloodline." I rose, the crown a comforting weight.

"Kneel a daughter of Kharsoom," I said. "A lady of ancient blood and glorious lineage."

She knelt. I reached back and one of my men handed me a crown. A simple golden circlet, it was set with an amethyst, a scorpion curled about it. This was an ancestral ornament of Clan Abibaal, worn by the lady of the clan. Hers now.

"Rise a lady of Kharsoom, joined to a man who will kill and die for her."

She rose, a smile lighting her face. "We were two. Now we are one. Kiss me, my husband."

And I did. For the first time, our lips found one another and I lost myself utterly. In her taste, her feel, in her scent. I held Tanyth, my Tanyth, my wife, and kissed her. A cheer rose from the assemblage, and finally we broke, but I held her close. I had been without her for too long already, and I would not let her go.

Prince Hadirseen put a hand on my shoulder. "You are perhaps not the son I would have picked, but I am proud to call you thus. Welcome to Clan Abibaal, Belromanazar."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"No, no. It is father now." He raised his voice to address everyone. "Come, to the main hall where we feast!"

We made our way into the main hall of the castle. As we went, every sentry cheered, falling into step behind us. Not all of them could fit into the main hall, but as many as could did, with the rest filling the courtyard. All would eat their fill that day.

I sat beside my lady wife. We ate and drank and could not stop looking at one another. Our hands wandered to the other to find stolen caresses, affirmations that we were together in a real way. She was trembling, and I think so was I.

We ate until we could eat no more. It was time for the last ceremonial act. Tanyth and I would adjourn to her bedchambers to lay together as husband and wife. She took my hand and we left the main hall to her quarters. We entered, closing the door behind us. Only then did she let go of my hand, walking to the bed before turning about.

Her breath hitched as she spoke. "It is strange. I have watched you... you have... spilled on me. Yet I am fearful."

"You need not be," I said. "I would never hurt you."

"That is why I am here."

I crossed the short distance, reaching for her, but I did not touch. My hand skimmed her arm, up to her shoulder, to her face. I felt the tiny currents of air, stirred by her shivering. Tanyth was impossibly beautiful, and I wanted only to love her.

She got up on her toes, kissing my lips softly, her voice soft. "I want to please you."

I caressed her soft back, drawing her to me. "You could not fail to."

"I was trained," she assured me. "My handmaids. But the tool they used was not so... fearsome as yours."

"We will be slow," I assured her.

She worried her lip with her teeth. "I want to... what you did with Ku-Aya. I want to do that for you."

"You will. Not tonight. That will take time." I swept her into my arms, and a happy laugh spilled from her. "Let us do what we have wanted since we saw each other."

"Yes, brave boldisar," she said with mock seriousness. "You should show your lady wife what you think of her."

I carried her to the bed, placing her atop the furs. Black and soft, they were the perfect backdrop crimson body, her hair with its touch of blue. I lay next to her and explored. This was the first time Tanyth's body was mine to enjoy, and I would not miss this chance. I covered every inch of her, and she alternated from giggles to moans to sighs. I worshiped her with my lips and teeth and tongue. I tasted the remnants of the oil from her morning bath, the salty tang of sweat, and at the edge of her nectar, spicy and mysterious.

She was tentative, but as she explored, she grew more confident. Her hot breath danced over my skin, her tongue brushed over the head of my spear, her lips blazed trails of shivering pleasure across the span of me. She was impossibly as hungry as I.

I spread her gently, her legs hooked over my shoulders. I opened her modest sex, chasing her pleasure, and for the first time, I felt her hands tangle in my hair, pressing me helplessly into her, rocking her hips into my face. When she found her bliss, it was with an adorable squeak, her body seizing once before descending into shivers.

When I kissed her, she found my mouth ravenously, her kisses bright and eager. She took my staff, caressing it gently. I sighed with the silky attention of her hands, the sensation building in my belly.

"Are you ready?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I trust you, Bel."

"I love you, Tanyth."

I kissed her softly. She was spread beneath me, and I did not need much guidance. It was as though I was coming home. I entered her carefully, and her eyes closed sweetly, her brow furrowing, a soft "Oh!" on her lips. I held her, kissed her, fondled her, taking her slowly and languidly. Her hands gripped my back, her nails digging into my flesh.

When I was fully sheathed in her, she arched her back, crying out, her body once again seizing. I let her shiver through her bliss, never ceasing my soft comforts. When she opened her violet eyes, her expression was shy. Such a strange look when I was inside her, but it made me love her all the more.

"I feel all of you," she whispered.

I murmured her name into her mouth as I began to move. She arched her back again, the bliss hitting her suddenly. I did not know what I had done. It was always thus between us. Our bodies fit together.

We moved against one another and each time we went faster, she cried out again. I could not hold off forever. The ecstasy that had been building in me had permeated every part of my form, blazing in an incandescent passion. I felt her all around me, as though my staff had penetrated all of her, not merely her sex. There was no distinction between the two of us. We were a mass of sensation, a bliss that was eternal. There are times I believe I am still there, inside her for the first time, and all else has been but a lovely dream.

When the bliss tore its way out of me, I filled her with aching jet after aching jet. She sobbed in joy, keeping me deeply inside her, arms and legs wrapped around me.

I regained myself and we were still entangled, as close as two people could ever be. I was still within her, though presently at bay. Her face was lit in a happy smile, and every time she gave a minute shift of her form, the same furrow appeared on her brow, the same soft "Oh!" as though discovering my body once again.

I kissed her, and her eyes opened. "Is this what we have? I have never felt anything like that."

"Nor I," I said. "But we are far from finished."

Her eyes opened, the haze of love momentarily parting. "What?"

"Come now, my love. This is our wedding day. What sort of husband would I be if we were not thoroughly exhausted as though pursued across the wastes?"

She gave a throaty laugh. "What sort of husband indeed?"

She kissed me hard and clutched me tightly and we once again lost ourselves in each other.

What would my life be like without Tanyth? It does not bear consideration. At times, in my brooding, I wonder. Yet I know this is a pointless question. She is part of me. Of all my brides, she is the most storied. Crimson Tanyth would soon leave the Red Wastes of Kharsoom and find a home in Castellandria. The city never embraced any outsider the way they loved her, and I believe her even her vast homeland was too small a place for the likes of her. She was destined for greater things, and it was my privilege that I could assist her in finding them.