A Lotus for the Regent

by Adonis Devereux

  "The festhalls of Godwatch are legendary." Ajalira finished pinning her last braid around her horns. "When they rebuilt the city after the cataclysm, they say the first things erected were the festhalls. Almost all business is contracted within their corridors, baths, or banquet halls."

  "And the men of Godwatch are businessmen first, I hear." He laid his hands on her shoulders.

  Ajalira stood and turned around, and Kamen's breath caught. She looked lovely, queenly even. Her crimson dress swept the floor, hiding her feet yet hugging her thighs. The high waist pushed her breasts up into the bodice of the dress. She wore the silver, teardrop crown Kamen had given her as well as a necklace of rubies.

  Kamen stepped back to admire her. "The color suits you."

  "If I am to reveal myself to my countrymen," Ajalira said, "I will do so in the color that best suits a Tamari."

  "The color of blood." Kamen took Ajalira's hand.

  "Before we go," Ajalira said, "I have something for you." She opened her other hand to reveal two bone fragments.

  "What are these?"

  "My most recent kills, tribute to my lord and my love." She put them in Kamen's palm and closed his fingers over them.

  Kamen would add them to Evix's fragment. "You are truly my savage beauty, Tamari through and through." He led her from their apartments into the corridor where awaited his entourage. He gave his slaves the nod, and they all started forward.

  The banquet hall was packed full of people, not only with the Seranimesti and Kimereth but also curious, rich men of Godswatch who might find and seize on some economic advantage from the proceedings. All conversation stopped, and Kamen took the stairs slowly, escorting Ajalira down every step, reveling in the open stares of appreciation that came from every man in the wide room. He was proud that it was Ajalira's beauty that grabbed their attention. For a moment, everyone seemed to forget the reason he was there, namely, to settle a political question.

  They were in for the shock of their lives. Kamen and Ajalira had already discussed it and had decided that this had to be done.

  But first, there were many introductions and much bowing and many exchanges of niceties and vague gestures of amity that Kamen knew were all false. He was no stranger to people trying to curry favor with him, but this was as bad as he had ever seen it. He would wipe all their simpering smiles off their faces.

  The master of the festhall, Banar—a hideously fat old man finely dressed and never seen without a gaudy cup of wine clutched in his fat, ring-laden hand—called for everyone's attention. “Greetings and welcome, noble lords of the Sunjaa and the Ausir. We are blessed beyond words that you have chosen Godswatch and my humble establishment as the venue of your conference. All that we have is yours. May good cheer flow like wine, and may your spirits be as full as your stomachs.”

  A crass greeting, but Banar grinned shamelessly. Perhaps such gluttony was normal here among the men of the north. Kamen rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a parade of Melara priests and priestesses who, dressed in robes of burgundy edged in black silk, plucked their lyres and blew their flutes as they danced in a tripping train among the grim-faced guests. Kamen waited patiently, allowing the religious rite to run its course. Melara was the goddess of wine, song, beauty, and love, and her auspices over any proceedings within a festhall were appropriate.

  The rite was short, and Kamen was glad for it. The dancers disappeared as quickly as they had arrived, and Kamen moved among the Ausir lords.

  "Before we begin," Kamen said in a loud voice, silencing the room. Ajalira translated immediately. "I have an announcement to make. Or, rather, my concubine has something to say."

  All eyes turned to Ajalira, but she looked only at Kamen. He squeezed her hand and with his eyes gave her the kindest look of support he could. Ajalira turned to the crowd and spoke, and though Kamen could not understand her words, he caught her name, Ajalira Zomalin. For a moment after that, the silence wrapped the room like a blanket. Jaws dropped. Eyes widened. And then there was such a general eruption of surprised cries that Kamen thought the Ausir might riot.

  Kamen put Ajalira behind him, backed up on the steps, and threw his hands into the air. "Hear me! Hear me! You called me here to arbitrate, and I shall have the floor!"

  Ajalira screamed out her interpretation, and the Ausir nobles quieted.

  "My concubine shall now withdraw," Kamen said more calmly, "and we shall talk." He surrendered her into the care of his most trusted servants, who escorted her away. But he did not fear for her safety. Not only could she take care of herself, but who would now wish to harm her? She was the greatest prize of the entire Ausir nation.

  Kamen's heart sank at the thought, and he watched in pain as she left. Saerileth appeared and took her place at his side as his interpreter. She would not distract the lords as Ajalira would.

  Tivanel Seranimesti was the first to speak, accosting Kamen before he had even taken his seat. "Regent, my house is ready to recognize the validity of Lady Zomalin's claim."

  The Kimereth lord, with whom Kamen was not yet acquainted, elbowed his way past his rival. "My lord, I am Ansim, master of the Kimereth, and I implore you to investigate further the parentage that your concubine claims."

  Kamen took his seat, placed his elbows on the table, and steepled his fingers. For such a long-lived race, the Ausir moved quick as Chiel's breath. The Seranimesti were ready to acknowledge Ajalira, for they had the Tamari on their side. The Kimereth had not suffered crippling losses as the Losiengare had. They were more cunning, and they controlled large parts of the Silbrios. They had a mighty navy, so they could afford to be more cautious.

  "Sit, everyone," Kamen said, but the Ausir did not move to sit. "We'll decide nothing standing."

  They all sat, but they did so with an ill grace. Refreshments were served, fresh fruits and wine, and soft music started up somewhere.

  "There is no rightful King of the Ausir," Kamen said. "Not since King Javin died without an heir."

  "That is our fundamental problem, Regent," Tivanel said.

  "But more than that," Ansim added. "We are a nation of Larenai Ausir ruled over by Tamari. I don't expect you to appreciate what this means, but—"

  Kamen raised his hand, cutting off both Ansim and Saerileth's simultaneous interpretation. "My concubine is Tamari, last scion of Khajira blood. I know precisely what this means."

  Ansim shut his mouth.

  "In any case," Tivanel said, "it would not be right to send the Tamari away. Nor should they be slaughtered." He leveled a withering stare at Ansim.

  "The goddess Abrexa blessed reunification," Kamen said before Ansim could retort. "Divine upheavals brought the Ausir back together, and that isn't something to be thrown away."

  "Yes, but Abrexa is no Ausir." Ansim pounded the table with his fist. "And she was raised by the Tamari, so she was biased. The whole reason we're at war is because of the return of our long-sundered cousins. We Larenai got along just fine without them, and we were one people. Just because a goddess says so doesn't mean we're all supposed to magically get along."

  Kamen shrugged. The Kimereth were purists, and the Seranimesti were willing to embrace their Tamari cousins.

  "That's all immaterial," Tivanel said. "Javin inherited because he was half-brother to Kiltarin, rightful Larenai King. And Javin was Ajalira's uncle. That's the only point that matters right now. Lady Zomalin."

  Ansim nodded. "Agreed. If she is indeed of Khajira blood, she must be given to whomever you choose as King, Regent. She alone can seal the peace."

  Tivanel's eyes burned with intensity. "No one will challenge an Ausir King who takes Lady Zomalin as his bride."

  "You forget," Kamen said, his voice a growl, "that you're talking about my concubine. She's mine."

  "Will you let the world burn for her sake?" Ansim asked.

  Kamen opened his mouth to say "yes", but before he could answer, Tivanel said, "It's not about what you would do, Regent. Ajalira
Zomalin is Tamari. What is her duty?"

  Kamen wanted to come over the table and strangle the Seranimesti lord. He wanted to throttle him because he knew he was right. "Recess." Kamen stormed out of the hall to Ausir cries of objection. He swept into his apartments like a sudden sea-squall.

  "Done so soon?" Ajalira ran to him but pulled up short when she saw his face. "What happened?"

  Kamen wanted to punch something. He wanted to scream. Ajalira was his. She loved him, and he loved her. They had promised themselves to each other. Darien had witnessed it. Kamen had signed it. It was written; it was done. He was Sunjaa, so who were these Ausir to countermand the Word?

  Kamen picked up a vase that sat on a nearby end table and slung it across the room where it shattered on the far wall. Ajalira jumped.

  "Kamen." She took his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her calm, blue-green eyes. "What's the matter?"

  "They want you." Kamen's voice trembled. "They want to take you from me."

  "What?"

  "You're Zomalin, your father's daughter. But more than that, you're Tamar, your mother's daughter. They want you to marry whomever I choose to be King. Only you can legitimize their crown."

  Ajalira shook her head and mouthed "no, no, no" and kissed him all over his face. "I am yours."

  "You are mine." Hot tears stung Kamen's eyes. He clumsily returned her kisses.

  "I will not do it."

  "That's what I said."

  "Then why are you so upset, my love?"

  Kamen slipped and fell backwards into the dark, depthless pool of his own anguish. "Seranimesti told me to ask you what your duty told you."

  Ajalira released Kamen's face and walked backwards blindly until her knees hit a sofa, upon which she slumped down. Her eyes unfocused, and her expression went blank. "My honor?"

  Kamen did not even have to ask. She was Tamari, and the very thing that had brought them together now threatened to tear them apart.

  Honor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ajalira could not see. A blackness darker than Kamen's eyes was over her. The only sound was her blood in her ears. She tried to move her lips, to speak Kamen's name, but she could not move even so much.

  “Lira?” Kamen's voice broke through the fog, and his touch on her arm brought her back to reality, a reality of living damnation.

  “Kamen.” She still could not quite see, but she felt up his arm and cradled his face in her hands. “What are we to do? If you do not … turn me over, then they will unite against you.”

  “Let them!” Kamen's defiance was belied by the heartbreak in his voice. He pulled her toward him, setting her on his lap, and she nestled against his shoulder. One of his dreadlocks was before her face, and her sight focused on it.

  “I told you, my love, that the Tamari were founded on a point of honor.”

  Kamen nodded, but he did not speak.

  “The second King of all the Ausir had two sons and one nephew, the son of his brother and his wife's sister. That nephew was Ellon, and they called him Tamar for his savagery in battle. He fought in the great Nohr battles that occurred just after the Ausir founded their nation. So, too, did the King's firstborn, but the second son was a sailor in love with the sea. He left his people during their wars to take to ship, exploring.” Ajalira paused long enough to kiss the lock of Kamen's hair. She addressed the rest of her speech to that black dreadlock.

  “Ellon was furious. He said that his cousin had disgraced his people and his name forever, but there was no difficulty yet because he was loyal to his other cousin, the crown prince. But when the crown prince, by then King, was killed in battle, then the sailor returned to claim the throne. By that time, he was wedded to the demi-goddess Mirsa, and the Larenai accepted them both as rulers, and their son, the God-King, ruled after Talmai the Sailor died.”

  “But Ellon did not accept them.” Kamen's arms tightened around her.

  “No, he refused to swear fealty to one who had abandoned his people, and he left. He gave up the name Khajira and left the Silbrios and all the Ausir.”

  “Who followed him?” asked Kamen. He seemed to be trying to focus on this story, to put out of his thoughts the horror of their present predicament.

  “His soldiers. The entire army left the Silbrios, taking with them their women and children. They sought out a hard land to live in, lest they ever grow soft. So it went on until my grandfather, Arathan, King of the Tamari, seventh in the right line from Ellon Tamar. He returned because the God-King, who had never acknowledged any fault in his father's behavior, was dead. Kiltarin, consort of the goddess Abrexa, ruled the Larenai, and he asked Arathan for help in the upheavals of that time. Kiltarin's mother, widow of the God-King, married Arathan, and their children were half-brothers—and half-sister—to the Larenai King, Kiltarin.”

  For a long while Kamen was silent, and Ajalira did not move. She did not want to think. She did not want to look ahead to her future.

  “So you really are all that there is?”

  “I had two uncles on my mother's side,” said Ajalira. “One was high priest of Abrexa and had no offspring. The other was Javin, last King, assassinated at his bridal feast. Arathan had neither brother nor sister, nor did his wife.”

  “You have not merely the best claim to the throne, you have the only claim.” Kamen slid Ajalira off his lap and rose, pacing about the room.

  “No, my love. I am but a daughter.” Ajalira missed the warmth of Kamen's flesh. She felt cold, so cold she did not think she could ever be warm again. “My father was no King, my mother no Queen.”

  “You are the only living vessel for the royal blood of either the Larenai or the Tamari.” Kamen's voice rose in his anger. “I wish we had never come here!”

  “But I am simply Zomalin,” said Ajalira. “A Tamari noblewoman, to be sure, but that does not mean quite what it does for the Larenai, or even the Sunjaa.” She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. “A Tamari noble does not necessarily even keep servants. We did not when we lived in Icedeep.” Speaking of trivialities kept her mind off her dread.

  “You never lived there.” Kamen stopped his restless pacing, pausing in front of the same mirror where Ajalira had earlier sat and dressed her hair. “You were born off the coast of Tendol! You grew up in Norivea!”

  Ajalira rocked back and forth. “I was raised as though my father had never left. My mother brought the first servants into the house. Until I became a—a Lotus, I was a pure Tamari.”

  “Tamari!” Kamen picked up a bottle of perfume and hurled it against the wall as he had the vase earlier. “Tamari!”

  “Yes.” Ajalira licked her lips. Her mouth had gone dry. “I am a Tamari noblewoman—not a princess—and I will do what I have to do. For you.”

  “For me?” Kamen's hands were shaking, and he did not seem to know what to do with them. “This is not for me. No, no, Lira, this is for your people, for those damned Ausir.”

  “I do not care about that so much.” Ajalira wanted nothing more than to go to Kamen and beg him to hold her. “But I could not give you my maidenhead. I could and can give you my honor. If I fail in this duty that you have given me, then I have nothing to give you.”

  “You have nothing to give me.” Kamen repeated her words, and the deadness in his voice terrified Ajalira.

  She leaped from her spot on the divan and ran to him. She put her arms around him, and her tears flowed down her cheeks, soaking his chest.

  But Kamen did not put his arms around her. He stood, unmoving, as she wept on him, and Ajalira could not breathe. It was not, however, her sobs that took her breath. It was her need for Kamen to hold her, and still he did not.

  “All the Ausir, even the Larenai, would agree with me.” She kissed one of his scars. “They would agree that I am sullied, worthless, and can give you nothing.” Her innermost fears, reawakened by seeing so many of her own kind, spilled out of her mouth.

  “The Tamari are indeed a hard p
eople,” he said at last. “Heartless people.”

  “Please, Kamen!” Ajalira could not speak further.

  Kamen stepped away from her, turned on his heel, and walked out.

  Ajalira's tears did not stop. Kamen wanted honor for her; she knew that. But what did that mean without Kamen? And worst of all, what did that mean for Kamen? For herself, she knew that life without him, even life as Queen of all the Ausir, would be misery. But she knew misery. Her life at the guildhouse had been shame heaped upon shame. These weeks of belonging to Kamen had been the only time since childhood when she would have preferred life to death.

  She ran blindly out of the room, not noticing or caring where she went. Their chamber opened onto a broad balcony, and she ran until her hips bruised against the stone railing. She looked down with eyes at first unseeing, and when at last she focused, she saw the green and blue waters of the Meshkenet Sea.

  Meshkenet Sea.

  She had not thought of it as the Aras Arlluvia; she had thought of it as the Sunjaa would, as Kamen's people would.

  She would be the worst Queen the Ausir had ever known.

  Queen of the Ausir. The very words brought a fresh wave of tears. During her time in the guildhouse, she had hoped only to escape someday, either to die gloriously or to live in obscurity, hiding her shame. But since she had belonged to Kamen, she had known bliss. He had seen no shame in her. He had loved her. His gentle kisses, his inexorable fucking—he was the only master of her heart. He held her life in his hands, and if he wanted her to go to the Ausir, she would.

  But he did not want her to go.

  Ajalira knew this. She knew it in the depths of that heart that belonged solely to him. He did not want her dishonored because he loved her. But he did not want her to go. Ajalira grasped the stone of the railing, and the roughness of it beneath her hands was something to focus on. She looked down at her hands, their pallor contrasting with the darkness of the stone beneath them.

  Kamen's dark skin.

  She closed her eyes, conjuring up the vision of Kamen as she had first seen him, moving among the Ausir and the Zenji like a King. Humans and Ausir alike acknowledged his superiority, and she was grateful that she had been able to help him.