by Drew Wagar
Vandare and Liana came up behind her, each flanked by the junior priestesses who had flown them.
The gates to the palace remained closed. Kiri could see a few guards in evidence on its lower levels, but there seemed no other movement. She looked around at Vandare.
‘Must we announce our presence?’ she asked.
Vandare bowed low.
‘The King will be aware,’ he replied.
Before Kiri could answer, a horn blared out from the palace, followed by a second and a third, each playing a different note. A short theme of music played and the gates to the palace swung open.
As they did so Kiri could hear drum beats sounding before her. In the dark corridor beneath the palace, something was moving. Kiri squinted to see better, but the brightness outside was still dazzling.
Something big …
She blinked in surprise as a creature emerged into the light of Lacaille.
It was huge. Her first thought was that it had to be three, perhaps four, times the height of even the biggest hergs of Drayden. The creature was moving ponderously, on four legs that were each the size of a mature shade. Its head was vast too, but in proportion to the body, a wide flat expanse of greenish flesh. As Kiri watched the head came up, revealing a neck that stretched almost the height of the creature again. Kiri could only estimate how tall it was, but it had to be stretched up somewhere near fifteen hands into the sky. Kiri could see a long muscular tail drooping behind it, counterbalancing the huge body. The creature’s fans ran all the way up its neck, flushed red as they cooled the blood of the enormous beast.
As it stretched up, the creature emitted a deafening sonorous trumpeting sound that set the dachs squawking in fright and made Kiri flinch and back up a pace. She’d never heard anything so loud in her life. The creature stamped a foot on the ground and the tremors ran through her body.
Beside her Vandare was chuckling. She spared him a pointed look before regaining her posture and stepping forward, legs astride and her kai held forward in her right hand.
The creature was flanked by soldiers on hergs and Kiri could make out more of the vast animals following in a line behind. The lead one had a contraption on its back. Kiri realised it was a throne, covered with an ornately decorated fabric tent. She could just make out a man within.
The King?
Her thoughts were answered a moment later as Vandare bowed the knee. Remembering the etiquette she had been instructed in she copied his movements, as did Liana and the priestesses behind her.
The drums grew loud and the creature approached. It stopped only a few paces away. Kiri looked up into a vast fleshy face. Before her, huge nostrils flared, sucking and blowing on the air as if investigating her scent. She could make out the creature’s three enormous eyes, they were as big as her fist. The dachs cowered before it, bowing their own heads low and emitting keening noises from their jaws.
As the great beast came to a halt the drums stopped. The trumpets sounded again, playing a bright marching tune for a brief moment. A rope ladder was thrown down from the throne high above and a man began his descent. The soldiers alongside dismounted from their hergs and stood to attention.
The man descended. He was big too, a bulky muscular physique was swathed in brightly coloured, almost garish, cloth. He had an ornate hat upon his head. His skin was a deep brown, much like Vandare’s and the other inhabitants of Taloon.
He dropped the final distance to the floor with an energy that belied his size. He was about the same height as her, but twice as wide and she guessed perhaps three times the weight. Behind him, another man followed, taller, but thinner and muscular.
As she had been directed she bowed her head as they approached.
‘Rise, rise.’ The King’s voice was rich and melodious, cultured and bold. ‘Vandare, you will introduce me forthwith.’
Kiri, Vandare, Liana and the two priestesses got to their feet.
‘Sire,’ Vandare said, with a further short bow. ‘May I present Kiri, priestess of Drayden and emissary of Nerina high priestess of those same lands. ’
‘Ah …’
Kiri looked into wideset deep brown eyes. She felt an intense sense of scrutiny and saw his gaze move up and down her body, appraising her.
‘King Karquesh of Taloon,’ he said, holding out his hand. The word Taloon was said with great emphasis on the second syllable. His hand was big and fleshy, festooned with rings bearing large gemstones.
As she had been instructed, Kiri took the hand and planted a kiss upon it.
‘As enchanting as you have been described,’ Karquesh said. ‘No wonder you are held in such esteem. Though I had expected you to be taller somehow.’
Kiri blinked in surprise, unsure what he meant.
‘I have been keen to meet you in the flesh, so to speak,’ Karquesh continued. ‘The victor of Varda, the black-gloved vanquisher of Viresia. Rider of dachs and slayer of Kings! Your reputation precedes you.’
Kiri was still nonplussed. Karquesh grinned.
‘Word of your exploits has travelled far, Kiri of Drayden. We take great interest in the affairs of our neighbours. I look forward to knowing you better. It is not so often we entertain mighty warriors of your ilk in our humble land.’
Kiri wasn’t sure whether she imagined it, but she got the impression that the King’s companion coughed and went to stifle it.
‘It is an honour to stand in your presence, your majesty,’ Kiri managed. ‘On behalf of my high priestess I bring you greetings from Drayden.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Karquesh beamed. He turned aside. ‘My cousin, Taryen, advisor to my court and Prince of Taloon.’
He gestured to the man behind him, who stepped forward. Kiri looked up at him. He was more than two hands taller than she was, muscular and even darker skinned. He was looking at her with a cold expression and she sensed a wave of animosity from him.
So, we’re not welcome here by all.
Her thoughts focused back on Karquesh as he spoke.
‘I hope we will see some evidence of your prowess before your visit is over.’
Kiri didn’t know how to answer that either, she only sensed subtle amusement from Karquesh. She turned to her companions.
‘May I introduce Liana, once queen of Scallia, now subject to Drayden.’
Karquesh turned his attention to Liana. Kiri looked herself. Liana was a little taller, her bright blonde hair shining in the light of Lacaille, her riding gear unable to hide the obvious curves of her body. Kiri sensed the arousal and appreciations of Liana’s form as Karquesh swept his gaze across her.
Which is all to the good. A bargaining chip I can use.
Karquesh held out his hand in the same manner.
‘My Lady …’
Liana took the hand and kissed it in the same manner, but she said nothing.
‘Adrella and Tali, my assistants,’ Kiri said.
Karquesh bowed to the other two priestesses. They curtseyed in return. Kiri saw him turn his attention to the dachs behind, appraising them.
‘Remarkable beasts,’ he said. ‘We have none here in Taloon.’
‘The heat,’ Kiri said. ‘They prefer cooler climes.’
‘You train them, and they fight for you?’ Karquesh asked.
Kiri nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And how many such beasts do you have in Drayden?’
Kiri caught herself before answering.
He probes … as well he might.
‘A good number,’ Kiri replied, remembering Charis’ words from long ago.
Karquesh chucked.
‘And what do you think of our phaunts, priestess Kiri?’ he asked, gesturing back to the procession behind. ‘Magnificent beasts, are they not?’
‘They are truly a sight to behold,’ Kiri said, still gazing at the huge creature in awe of its size.
‘Have you nothing like them in Drayden, then?’
Kiri shook her head. ‘No, they are unknown to us.’
‘Good,
good,’ Karquesh replied. He turned about. ‘But, where are my manners? You must be tired after your long flight. Vandare, my good man. Accommodation is prepared, the very finest. See to it that our guests are rested. At the eighth chime we shall have a banquet in their honour.’
Kiri saw Taryen’s gaze had remained unmoved. He continued to look at her as their entourage walked away.
‘They come to demand our subservience.’
Karquesh kept smiling until the door to the palace closed behind him and the servants had departed. Then his expression fell.
‘Indeed,’ Karquesh replied, looking back at his cousin, Taryen. Vandare stood behind them. ‘And we would be wise to consider it.’
‘Bow the knee to these women?’
‘These are no ordinary women,’ Karquesh replied. ‘Priestess Kiri’s reputation is no idle boast. Survivors from Viresia reached us here in Taloon. These priestesses overpowered that city, armed with bowmen and all manner of traditional defences, within minutes. Kiri herself slayed the King it is said.’
‘Exaggeration,’ Taryen spluttered. ‘Incompetence and laziness on the part of the defenders of that city. This Kiri, she’s barely a woman, let alone a warrior.’
‘All the more reason we should understand her better,’ Karquesh replied. ‘What say you, Vandare? You have seen more of them than we.’
‘I saw no demonstration of their skill in battle during my short stay,’ Vandare replied. ‘But they are certainly feared by all around them. It is said they wield a power of the mind with which they can control others. I travelled here alongside them. They are proud and haughty, and they seem sure of their abilities …’
‘Magic spells and sorcery?’ Taryen said, with a laugh. ‘Child’s tales.’
‘We should find a way to gauge their strength,’ Karquesh said. ‘You know what they want from us?’
Vandare nodded.
‘Our fleet,’ he replied. ‘They intend to wage a war on a foe across the sea. Being landlocked, Drayden has no sailing vessels.’
Karquesh nodded.
‘I thought as much,’ he said. ‘They need what we have. It will be interesting to see what they intend to offer us by way of return.’
‘We should refuse,’ Taryen said.
‘That will mean war with Drayden,’ Vandare said. ‘The priestesses are not famed for their patience. Scallia was confident they could resist, Drem put up no defence at all …’
‘Taloon is strong.’ Taryen said.
‘But we have no need of another war,’ Karquesh replied. ‘Kerun might be quiescent for now, but we have enough troubles of our own with the unrest here … and no word of that must reach our visitors.’
‘The catacombs?’ Vandare asked.
‘There was another riot whilst you were away on your errand,’ Karquesh said. ‘Put down once again, but those responsible for inciting it still elude us.’
‘And our food?’
‘We have recovered much, but some was smuggled away, there has been sabotage to many of the mechanisms. The slaves have been put to work repairing it, but … there will be shortages before long if these attacks continue.’
‘They are organised,’ Vandare replied. ‘This seems to be no random act of insurrection, it is planned and executed.’
‘Double the guards down there,’ Karquesh said, nodding. ‘We must find the perpetrators, they must be caught. Take care of it personally, Vandare.’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘And as for these priestesses – we keep the peace with Drayden, is that understood? We will hear what they have to say.’
‘But women, dictating our ways?’ Taryen growled. ‘We should take these emissaries now, show them a woman’s true place and send them back whipped, bound and shaven as a message.’
Karquesh looked at him.
‘Then perhaps it is good fortune for all that I am King and you are the Prince.’
‘An accident of birth, nothing more,’ Taryen growled. ‘With your leave, cousin?’
Karquesh gestured and Taryen stalked away.
‘His insolence has not abated I see,’ Vandare said, speaking in lowered tones.
‘No indeed.’
‘He means to take the throne.’
Karquesh chuckled. ‘Of course. He believes it should have been his from the start.’
‘He will kill you for it. Many of our seafarers would agree with him. A tougher line, both inside our realm and outside it. Some say we should have razed the cities of Kerun, and not drawn up a treaty with them. Many believe these rebels amongst the slaves should be executed without mercy.’
Karquesh didn’t answer for a long moment.
‘Kerun, no. An enemy subdued looks inwards and doesn’t foster guerrillas. We will treat with Kerun, not drive them to extinction. These rebels though, yes. Death … once they are found, if they can be found.’
‘And the priestesses?’
‘Perhaps the visit of this legendary priestess Kiri might be put to use in other ways.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I am still pondering it,’ Karquesh replied. ‘Make sure their needs are met, the best of our hospitality must be on display. Prior to the banquet we will have a parade. I would like Taryen and Kiri to meet properly.’
‘That will be an interesting encounter.’
Karquesh smiled and nodded. ‘Yes indeed.’
King Karquesh had not been lying when he had described the accommodation as the very finest. Kiri had been given a vast apartment in the highest spire of what she learnt was called the Queen’s Tower. It seemed odd, as Taloon had no queen.
The apartment had a sunken bath, gilded decorations of all sorts, lush and vibrant tapestries adorning the wall, with thick carpets underneath. Everything smelt of exotic perfumes, large plants decorated every corner and servants were on hand with giant handheld fans to waft cooling breezes across her.
She’d had scant chance to enjoy it though. Dozens of ladies-in-waiting swarmed around her, apparently to ensure she was ready for the banquet. She had been bathed, scrubbed, her hair untangled, washed, washed again and then brushed, dried and then adjusted for what seemed like a whole stretch. One had tried to remove her black glove, but she had slapped at the woman’s wrist in anger. The glove remained firmly in place on her left hand.
Without Pootle she would have preferred to dress herself, but women of rank in Taloon didn’t undertake such chores. Kiri was not used to wearing a dress. The last time she had worn one Charis had dressed her prior to her trial at the hands of the priestesses in Daine.
How long ago that seems now …
Kiri sighed. Charis was gone and she was in charge of her own destiny now. The King was insisting on his banquet in her honour and etiquette demanded she follow the local customs.
But that hadn’t been all. Next came another flock of women bearing a succession of powders and colours. Her skin was dabbed and dusted, her eyebrows trimmed with tiny scissors and her hair twisted into an ornate swirl atop her head before falling back down around her shoulders. Every spell she was instructed to hold still for more colour to be applied. They even coloured her lips. It seemed both the city and the people within shared a love of bright and radiant hues.
I’m going to look like a painted doll once they finish.
It was relaxing though. She had never been pampered like this before. Even bumbling Pootle hadn’t taken anywhere near this long in preparing her for an important meeting. The banquet seemed to be the social event that the entire royal household was circulating about and no negotiation would happen until that ritual had been conducted. She would have to wait. Taloon put great stock in its socialising.
The material was floaty, awkward and revealing, so unlike the practical flight gear she wore when riding the dachs, or the close-fitting leather armour she had worn when fighting. That was comfortable and familiar, not like this flimsy attire. She felt exposed and vulnerable, though the dress was light and airy, which was a comfort in the oppressive heat
.
Yet, if you have to wait, you may as well try to enjoy it.
The dress she had been given to wear was a bright cyan, chosen, so the women had said, to compliment her eyes. It came with matching shoes that had curious extensions to the heels, increasing her height as she stood up. She felt as if she was tottering forward and took a moment to regain her balance. The women about her tittered in surprise, but fell silent when she glared at them.
They walked her over to a large oval mirror that was positioned in the far corner of the room, adjacent to the windows. Light was streaming in. Her new shoes clicked on the flooring as she walked across.
I must look ridiculous, I hope they’ve done this to Liana and my companions otherwise I’m going to …
She stopped.
The woman in the mirror was unknown to her. She was thin and tall, her skin a glowing tan in the light from the window, the familiar scars obscured and hidden by the dabs of powder. Her body was trim and curved, the dress revealing enough of her form to appreciate a generous measure of feminine grace. The shoes stretched out her toned legs, accentuating them. Dark hair was perched atop her head, accompanied by falling ringlets about a narrow face, with more cascading around bare shoulders. Blue eyes stood out, matching the hue of the dress.
They were right about the dress. The colours too.
The woman stared back at her. A woman of substance and allure, mature and sophisticated, aware of the presence she generated and the effect she had on those around her. Kiri stared and looked at her reflection for long moments, admiring herself.
I look like a Queen!
Memory flickered in her mind.
None know this … but I am a Queen, I am royalty! Of the house of Tiamoi of Scallia.
Visions flashed before her eyes, the hardship of the forest and the slums where she spent her childhood, the fights and the constant struggle for survival. Then the battles to prove herself in the Temple; becoming a priestess, mastering the arts of war and conflict.
But this …
Softer, subtler. Here was a woman who could turn the mind and body, not pummel it into submission. Here was a woman who didn’t need the hard blow of a kai to make her point, nor even the gift to subdue or coerce her opponents. Here was a woman who deserved praise and adulation, who expected it and embraced it. This was no slum girl, no warrior, no mere priestess. This woman was all of those and more. A woman to be feared, to be loved, admired and revered.
