Lakht landed on the wagon with a whoosh and surveyed the downed ox, head tilted, eyes gleaming. Sallea sat back on her heels. Glancing at Khefer, she said hesitantly, “Lakht believes the animal is done.”
Sandy lifted the small scanner she’d been using away from the ox’s side. “I think its heart is giving out.” She ran one hand along the rough coat. “Poor thing.”
“So we fix the wheel and perhaps we lighten the load. We can manage with three oxen,” Rothan said. “I’d abandon the cart altogether, but we have a few days’ march ahead of us, and we need the supplies. Not to mention the issue of my wife not being able to walk so far.”
“I don’t want my problems to cost these animals their lives.” Tia wiped away tears.
Rising, Sandy made quick work of scanning the other three beasts of burden standing patiently nearby. “I don’t detect any distress. They should be fine. I think the one we’re losing might have been older.”
“Yes,” Khefer said, beginning to unbuckle the harness on the downed ox. “I had very little time to pick and choose that night, or I’d have left this one in the city and taken another.”
Mark moved to help Djed with freeing the wooden yoke from the fallen animal and unhooking the rest of the team from the cart. The archer led them up the trail a short way and fastened the reins to a scrubby tree.
Rothan placed a hand on Khefer’s shoulder. “The ox has given good and loyal service, my friend, but we need to make our repairs and move on.”
Mark turned to Sandy. “Can you end its suffering? Something in your bag?”
“I’ve been thinking what I might use,” she said, pushing her hair off her face. “I don’t believe it’s in pain, which is a blessing.”
Sallea held up one hand. “I can do this.” She looked at Khefer. “I will do this, for you. I can see your heart bleeds for the creature, and I want to end the sorrow for you both.” Changing her posture to sit cross-legged, Sallea rested one hand, palm down, on the ox’s forehead and closed her eyes. She chanted almost under her breath in Mikkonite, extending her free hand to Khefer. He wrapped both of his around her fingers and bowed his head. The ox heaved a great sigh and closed its luminous brown eyes, a moment later going still.
Khefer helped Sallea to her feet, arm around her waist, escorting her to a place next to a small tree. Sighing, she leaned against the trunk and slid to sit. “I gave the animal our thanks and told it to lay down its burdens,” she said, voice thready.
Mark brought her the waterskin. “Well done.”
Khefer knelt to assist her with drinking since her hands were shaking. “I owe you, my lady warrior.”
Mark left the two alone and rejoined Rothan and Djed. “Shall we get on with the repairs? We’ll have to modify the harness for three animals now as well.”
Rothan glanced at Khefer and Sallea. “I’ll be glad when this journey is done.”
“Amrell takes the sky tonight,” Sandy said from her spot next to Tia. “As long as we arrive at your grandfather’s home under her watchful scrutiny, we’ll be fine.”
As he started unloading sacks of spice from the listing cart, Mark hoped she was right.
Three days later, Mark faced closed gates, but with a sense of relief tempered by impatience. The large wooden portal in front of him was set into towering stone walls, anchored with metal hinges. Cautionary phrases warning off intruders, he surmised, were painted in red on the surface. Guards stared down from above, bows drawn, arrows nocked, at the ready.
“Is this the only way into your grandfather’s territory?” Mark walked a few paces to the left in the area where the guards had told them to wait, admiring the workmanship of the wall builders. The giant cut stones comprising the walls fit together without mortar. There were no discernible cracks or obvious weaknesses.
“Yes, without going overland for hundreds of miles and trekking through dense jungle,” Rothan answered. “What’s taking them so long?”
“We’ve sent for the officer of the guard,” one archer yelled as Rothan stood, hands on hips, regarding those on the ramparts with a frown. “General Intef closed the borders of our land to all from the north.”
“You’ll be on your way down the mountain within the hour.” Another soldier laughed derisively.
“We’ve no need of spices,” yelled a third. “You can leave the women, though.”
Reaching for his sword, Khefer cursed. Rothan held his arm. “Patience. Once we’re inside, out of the world’s view, I’ll make myself known.”
“The louts insult you and your queen,” Khefer said.
“These men have no way to know who we are. I’m not pleased by the lack of discipline, however. I’ll have to deal with the issue at the proper time.”
“How are you going to persuade the officer in charge to let us enter? If you don’t want to reveal yourself yet?” Tiring of his scrutiny of the walls, Mark walked to the oxcart and perched on the tail next to Sandy.
“I’m hoping the commandant will be someone known to me. If not, I’ll announce my identity as a last resort.”
A small door set into the great gate creaked open. An officer in a crisp blue tunic and black leather pants, wearing a golden helmet with a blue horsehair crest, marched out, four archers at his back.
“Ah, good. Nemiah.” Rothan recognized the officer. “We trained together.” He moved forward, Mark and Khefer at his shoulders. Djed and Sallea stayed with the oxen and the cart.
“I regret to inform you our borders are closed, merchant,” the officer said, much as his men on the wall had stated, but with more courtesy. “You’ll have to turn those beasts around and retrace your route.”
Rothan pushed the hood of his robe away from his face. “Don’t you know me? We drank enough cheap wine together in better times.”
The officer did a double take, face going white under his tan. He retreated a few steps. “Are you real? Or a ghost?”
“A man of flesh and blood, gods be praised. I don’t want the entire border to know I’m here. Permit me to enter the gate while you send for my grandfather and my mother?”
Nemiah saluted. “Of course, Captain, at once. But we heard you’d died.”
“Greatly exaggerated. I doubt you can believe any news coming from the north these days.” Rothan grinned.
A few rapid orders from Rothan’s old comrade, and the gates swung wide. Khefer prodded the stolid oxen into motion. The party walked into the border fort, gates closing behind them. At the solid sound, Mark took a deep breath, relieved, knowing he and Sandy had arrived at last in a place where neither Farahna nor her Maiskhan allies could touch them. He glanced over at Sandy, who smiled. His princess had courage to spare, but even she’d been pushed to her limit by their slow oxcart-enabled escape.
Nemiah took them to his quarters.
“If you and your party can wait here, my lord,” he said, tone deferential but firm, “I’ll notify General Intef and Princess Sharesi.”
“Have you parchment or a tablet? And a writing instrument? I must send my grandfather a note with your courier.” Rothan gazed at the small desk against one wall. “He’ll be skeptical of this news.”
The requested items were brought. Rothan scrawled bold, intricate characters across the scroll he was given, periodically dipping the quill into the ink. Watching his friend concentrate on the note gave Mark uncomfortable flashbacks to the scene he’d been a reluctant part of weeks ago, in what he felt sure was the Nakhtiaar version of the underworld. After sanding the ink to dry it, Rothan rolled the parchment onto a cylinder, sealing the communication with wax spilled from the candle on the table and the imprint of his signet ring.
Nemiah took the scroll, stowing it in a pouch at his belt. “I’ll carry this myself. The errand will be my privilege, sir. Can I order the servants to bring you anything while you wait?”
“We ate on the road at the noon hour, thank you. But we’re parched from waiting in the sun outside the gates. Wine would be excellent.”
“Juice or water for Tia.” Ever the watchful doctor, Sandy interrupted the conversation.
“At once.” The border officer saluted and left the room.
Tired, Mark sat cross-legged on the floor, leaving the bunk for Tia and Sandy. He’d seen more of this planet, up close and marching across it, than he’d ever seen of any other world in his entire career. The novelty of hiking through the terrain, versus flying over it, wore off early in the trip. As he’d told Sandy more than once during their journey south, what he now missed most from their previous life was air transport. He envied Lakht.
“How long till your grandfather gets here?” he asked Rothan.
“An hour, maybe a bit longer. The main city where he resides lies south of the border. I’m glad he’s not on his annual tour of the territory. My appearance will be complicated enough without him being absent.” Rothan laughed at his own understatement. “We’ve one final, brief trek, through the pass and onto the plateau. Have some wine, relax. I think you’ve been on guard day and night without ceasing while we were on the road. Try to tell me there was a single night you slept with both eyes shut.”
“Merely being cautious in case Farahna somehow learned of our escape.” Taking the proffered wineskin, Mark knocked back a long swallow of the wine. “We weren’t in a good position to evade capture or fight off a Maiskhan attack. Not on the open road. Chariots could have overtaken us any time.”
“My oxen did their best.” Khefer’s weary retort came immediately.
Mark grinned to take the sting from his criticism. “I’m grateful to the beasts. Doesn’t mean I ever want to see them again. Give me a good saddle horse.”
“True words,” Sallea said, holding out her hand for the wineskin.
She and the men continued the desultory conversation on the merits of chariots versus cavalry, more to pass the time than anything else. Sandy kept watch over Tia, drowsing on the cot with her head pillowed in the Outlier woman’s lap. Sallea sat on the floor beside Khefer, leaning on his shoulder. Finally, Mark heard trumpets blaring from the fort’s courtyard.
Moments later, the door flew open, hitting the wall with enough force to dent the panel. Mark was on his feet, blaster half drawn before he realized the guards streaming in were the advance force of Rothan’s family.
Princess Sharesi entered the room behind the soldiers, a tall, austere woman in fine linen robes and tiers of golden necklaces, her long white hair elaborately dressed with jeweled pins. The resemblance between her and Rothan was unmistakable. As Rothan and Tia embraced the princess, General Intef strode into the chamber. The women were both weeping. Rothan broke free of his mother’s clinging arms and stepped away, saluting his grandfather. “I’ve come home, sir.”
General Intef answered the salute. “Long overdue. But welcome.” He clapped Rothan on the shoulder. “And you brought Lieutenant Khefer and Chief Archer Djed as well, I see.”
“But how?” said Sharesi, not releasing her grip on Tia’s hand. “This is a true miracle, beyond comprehension, beyond even praying for, but I must know all the details!”
Rothan laughed, giving her a hug. “We’ll explain, I promise. First, let me introduce several people to whom we owe much.” He gestured to Mark, Sandy, and Sallea, who’d withdrawn from the family reunion. “This is the Lady of the Star Wind, Alessandra, and her warrior, Mark. I owe them my life, Tia’s life—much more than I can ever repay. And Lady Sallea is the ambassador from the Mikkonite. Her father rules in the Empty Lands.”
General Intef assessed them coolly, nodding as Mark saluted. “You’re welcome to my province.”
Princess Sharesi chimed in with less reserve in her voice. “But of course we’re delighted to have you here. This is amazing. The men Lieutenant Khefer sent home told us rumors of a wild journey to find the city of Khunarum. I gather from the presence of Lady Sallea, the ambassador from the Empty Lands, you had a measure of success?”
“Indeed. Lord Mark saved my life in the lost city. The circumstances are a tale worth telling. But there’s something else of higher priority, Grandfather, Mother.” Rothan glanced at Tia for corroboration of his claim, and she gave him a tiny smile of encouragement.
“We’re aware of Hutenen’s death.” Sharesi wiped away a tear, smearing her eye makeup. Mark remembered Rothan had said she’d raised the late prince along with her own son. “Sad tidings.”
“The official report stated you were entombed with him because you wished to go to the underworld in his company,” General Intef said, a question in his tone.
Rothan shook his head, meeting his grandfather’s searching look without flinching. “We were entombed at Farahna’s command, not by choice.”
“Beats dying under the lash,” Mark said. “Which was her first choice of death sentence.”
“How did you escape, then? No, never mind, we’ll discuss the details later.” Sharesi waved her hands as if shooing insects away. “You must be exhausted from travel and the dangers you faced. I imagine the journey was hardest for Tia. I see there’s to be a child.”
“We’re man and wife now.” Rothan’s declaration was simple, heartfelt. “The child will be my heir.”
“This calls for a feast of celebration and proper thanks rendered to the Exalted Ones for so many reasons it makes me dizzy to think of it all.” The princess gave Tia a hug.
“Followed by serious discussions of strategy in the morning.” The general wasn’t smiling. “If Farahna learns you’re alive, I’m not sure what her reaction will be, but the range of possibilities is grim. We must be prepared.”
Rothan laid his hand on the general’s arm. “Wait, Grandfather, we’ve not told you the most important thing.”
Brow furrowed in a frown, the general stopped.
“More important than the fact of your survival? More than Tia’s pregnancy?” Princess Sharesi asked. “What else can there be to add to this momentous day?”
Rothan gestured to his wife. “My love, may I have the box, please?”
She brought the container, setting it on the table in front of her husband. He took a deep breath and slid the golden lock aside, flipping open the lid, extracting the Crown of Khunarum, and setting it on his bare head. Pivoting on his heel, he faced the staring occupants of the room.
“I am become king.”
There was a moment of total silence.
Khefer and Djed knelt.
The general and Rothan locked eyes for a long moment. Mark would have given a great deal to be privy to the rapid thoughts and plans obviously whirling through the older man’s mind. General Intef went to one knee a heartbeat later, hand over his heart. “Hail to the king, may the gods be praised!”
Then and only then, Mark observed, did the other men in the room go to their knees and take up the cry. He filed the fact away for the future.
General Intef regained his feet a moment later. “With Your Majesty’s permission, we must keep this news quiet while we plan our next steps. The matter is even more urgent now. Farahna will take extreme measures against you once she receives this news. The Maiskhan won’t welcome the idea of another legitimate claimant to the throne, either.”
He addressed the officers and men who’d accompanied him. “This is not to be spoken of until the king decrees it to be public knowledge. I will have a blood oath on this from each of you. Do you all understand?”
“If it—if it pleases Your Majesty, let us leave this place and go on to the house.” Princess Sharesi’s voice was faint. Mark wondered if Sandy would have her as a new patient before the end of this family reunion. “A great feast will be prepared in your honor.”
“My companions and I have journeyed far, and we’re tired,” Rothan said. “For tonight, an intimate family dinner is all we can handle, Mother. We’ll be pleased to recite the tale of our adventures for you.”
“It will be my honor to hear of them.” She bowed her head and moved aside for Rothan and Tia to pass ahead of her. She and General Intef followed a pace or so behind.
>
Mark snagged Djed by the arm as the archer collected the wooden box holding the crown. “Is there going to be this much formality all the time now?”
“No. His Majesty can indicate he’s present as a military officer. Then we can all be less constrained by royal protocol.” Djed sounded wistful. “He may be more his old self when we’re private with him. But he is king now, apart from all men, anointed by the gods, and there’s no going back to the older, simpler times. None of us can ever forget his new status.” He hefted the box and walked out.
“Thank goodness there’s some hope, though, for less pomp all the time. Even your grandmother doesn’t insist on all this bowing and scraping,” Mark told Sandy as he held the door open for her to follow the archer from the room.
“She would if she knew someone else demanded it.” Sandy packed her medical bag. “We’d better hurry, or they’ll leave without us. Rothan shook them pretty badly with his announcement.”
“Did you see how the locals didn’t pay homage till the general made it clear which way he’d go?”
“Rothan taking the crown as his must be a lot for them to absorb,” Sandy said, frowning thoughtfully. “But one thing my grandmother always used to say—if you have the key military officers behind you, you sit a secure throne.”
Captain Khefer stuck his head through the open doorway. “The king asks for you. We can’t leave till you are with us.”
“We’re coming,” Mark said, ushering Sandy through the door ahead of him.
Chariots conveyed them up the long, easy incline of the mountain pass and onto the immense, miles-long plateau forming the core of the territory. The general’s personal estate, including his sprawling house, official buildings, several temples, secondary residences, and various assorted outbuildings, all enhanced by well-manicured gardens and luxurious old growth trees, lay a few miles into the plateau. The compound sat at the edge of the capital city. Quiet, efficient servants escorted the newcomers into the house and to the banquet that had been prepared while the household waited for them to arrive.
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