Birthright

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Birthright Page 3

by Jean Johnson


  Watching her as she checked her Wall-Finder, the compass used to successfully navigate the great expanses of desert wilderness that composed much of the Empire, he wished she’d broken her pattern of avoidance back in the city of Ido-esh. It was their last civilized stop before reaching the religious city of Ijesh, according to his hostess and guide. She had made use of a bathhouse attached to the inn selected for their stay, but had retired to the stables to sleep, leaving him in sole possession of a small but private room.

  At least he’d been able to relieve his needs within its privacy. Self-ministration wasn’t nearly as satisfying as a romp with a beautiful woman, of course, but at least it was some source of relief. Grimacing, Elrik adjusted his broad-brimmed, conical sun-hat, which gave him more shade than a mere turban, and nudged his mare into following her down the slope of the next dune.

  Arasa glanced back at him. He was keeping up with her, though his mare was slowing her down a little. The shorter horse had neither the longer legs nor the exceptionally broad hooves of her own steeds, hooves that supported them on the shifting sands better than narrower surfaces would. She was surprised the half-pony mare had kept up so well. And despite the odd-looking Kumronite hat, he wasn’t suffering too badly in the autumn midday heat.

  She was also aware of a growing masculine frustration in her traveling companion. She felt a similar, feminine version of frustration, since it had been about two years since her last romp in the blankets. Increasing duties and obligations to her family had supplanted most opportunities, and her quest over the last year to settle which twin was the firstborn had chased away the rest. But he was exotically handsome, engagingly amusing, delightfully well educated, and very, very charming.

  It was tempting to rent a room for herself, rather than sleeping with her horses, very tempting, but the more she got to know Elrik of Snow Leaper Tribe, the more she found she didn’t want to just have a temporary fling with him. She valued his company…to the point of imagining what it would be like if he ever wanted to stay with her beyond the scope of this little quest. And therein lay the problem.

  Having avoided most questions about her lineage and parentage, speaking only in broad, vague terms regarding her kin and her “family business,” it was going to be awkward, telling him the full truth. On the one hand, she wouldn’t mind making love with him while they were just Elrik and Arasa. To be wanted just for herself, not for what she had been born, was too novel and delightful to give up. It was why she had kept silent about her kin. The full truth would only have gotten in the way.

  Well, at first, she hadn’t told him the truth because she was too far from home, and all on her own. That kind of knowledge could lead to trouble, being the kind of secret that could tempt a man to morally stray, even from a Truth Stone confession that he wasn’t usually interested in spilling such things to others. However, the more they journeyed together, the more she thought he was trustworthy and might accept her confession without being too upset at her previous silence.

  But on the other hand, she had been lying to him by omission. If they made love, and then he found out who and what she was…well, it would be awkward at best, and deceitful-seeming at worst. Which meant that every selijm closer to Ijesh they traveled, the more nervous she was about revealing the truth. She couldn’t ride into the Womb of the Empire—what an appropriate name for a city carved out of old caves, now that she knew—without someone recognizing her and spilling the secret. Because it wasn’t a secret in Ijesh. And from the top of that dune, she had seen the first signs of the hard desert that contained the canyons hosting Ijesh and Adanjé-nal.

  Cloud, whom she was riding today, slowed at the subconscious signals of her reluctant rider. Elrik’s shorter mare caught up with her, drawing even as they started up the slope of a modest-sized dune. He adjusted the palm-woven hat covering him from shoulder to shoulder again as a warm, dusty breeze gusted around them. “Is something wrong?”

  It’s now or never, and you like him too much for the consequences of “never,” Arasa reminded herself. Bracing herself, she nodded. “Yes, there is. I, um, haven’t been fully forthcoming with you. If you haven’t noticed. Regarding my kin.”

  “I noticed. Are they secretly horrible people, under the surface?” Elrik asked. “You made them sound rather nice.”

  That was far enough off the mark, it made her chuckle. “No, they’re not horrible. They’re just…socially prominent.”

  “Ah. So you’re not UnShijn, after all.” He paused a moment, then asked, “If they’re socially prominent…are they a Family, rather than a mere Clan?”

  “You could say that,” she couldn’t help hedging, staring at the hardpan ground in the distance. They still had several selijm to travel before reaching the first of the ravines that would slope down into the valleys and crevasses hiding the capital. She reminded herself again that it was better to tell him now, while he still had time to adjust to the full truth.

  “Well, either they are an Am’n, or they aren’t. Which one is it?”

  “Am’n Adanjé.” She glanced sideways to gauge his reaction. His green eyes had narrowed in skepticism.

  “Am’n Adanjé? The Ruling Family of the Empire?” Elrik could hardly believe her. It had to be a joke. Even a cousin of the Royal Blood wouldn’t be allowed to travel across the Empire without an escort, yet here was Arasa, traveling with just three overgrown…palomino…Imperial Mares, he realized suddenly, wincing internally for having been so oblivious to the truth.

  Arasa saw that wince, and cleared her throat. “Well…yes. I didn’t mention it earlier because it isn’t always wise to announce such a fact when one visits the Frost Wall. Or in the northeast corner of the Cloth Wall, up by the Ebrinnish Border. Even if you turned out be trustworthy enough—and you have,” she quickly reassured him, “—there are always others who might have overheard, and tried to take advantage of that fact.”

  Facts gathered and collided in Elrik’s head. She was a member of the Royal Family; she was one of a set of twins; and she was trying to determine who was firstborn, on a quest so serious she’d been willing to travel into Kumron of all places. The capital was a long way from the mountains comprising the southern border of the Empire, but even he had heard rumors of the royal heirs being twins. He just hadn’t paid any attention to their names.

  He was riding alongside, talking with—and lusting after—a royal princess. His wince came back, turning into a grimace as he looked away. No wonder she didn’t want to be “alone” with me. I’m nothing more than a quarter-breed, with most of me a barbarian Kumronite. Educated and traveled, but still a common foreigner.

  “I didn’t tell you at first, because it was safer that way. But once you refrain from mentioning something, it’s just easier to keep from mentioning it, so long as it remains unimportant to the needs of the moment,” Arasa explained. “But I’m going to be recognized when we get to Ijesh. And if I didn’t tell you before then, when it would be revealed by others, you’d think…well, who knows what. I didn’t know you at the start of our journey,” Arasa admitted, “but now that I do…I wanted you to know.”

  Elrik nodded. She was letting him down easy, saving him from the embarrassment of trying anything further with her. Ordinary men like him didn’t get to have relationships with princesses, however nice and normal that princess might seem. “I understand.”

  “I’m glad. I know I’ve pushed to get back to Ijesh, barely even stopping for a bath, but the sooner this question of the succession is settled, the happier I’ll be,” she sighed. “That, and Ijesh is a lot safer for me. Everyone knows who I am, so I don’t have to be on the lookout for trouble. And, to be truthful, if I had let myself be distracted by you, I would’ve been too distracted.

  “Normally, some of the Imperial Bodyguard would have accompanied me, but Father didn’t want it widely known that the question of who exactly is firstborn is so important. Going all over the place with an entourage wouldn’t exactly be quiet…and this is s
omething that has to be proven on my own. Or my sister’s own. One of us has what it takes to rule the Empire, but it’s supposed to be found within us, put there by the Gods,” she explained. “The First Emperor didn’t conquer by the might of an army; he ruled by a special covenant between him and the Mother Goddess.”

  A thought crossed Elrik’s unsettled mind. “If you’re of the Royal Blood, then you could command any of the mages at the Academy in Ijesh to do your bidding. Why did you accept my offer to accompany you?”

  “Three reasons. One, I don’t like traveling alone, and you were proving to be a good conversationalist, even that early in the evening. Two, you gave me a tap from Djindji-Taje’s Right Hand, saving me an utterly unnecessary and potentially quite dangerous trip into Kumron. I owed you for that. If you wanted to go to Ijesh, I’d help you get there. And three…” Shrugging diffidently, she told him the truth. “I was attracted to you, and wanted to get to know you, in case it had the potential to go somewhere. I may be ‘of the Royal Blood,’ as you put it, but I’m still quite normal.”

  Elrik glanced sharply at her. That sounded like…He adjusted his conical hat again, which was being tugged at by the wind now that they were off the up-and-down swells of the dunes. “What do you mean by that?”

  She eyed him askance, wondering why he hadn’t picked up on her meaning. Somewhere along the way, they had crossed paths in a misunderstanding. Arasa addressed him bluntly to compensate. “I mean, I’m still very interested in you. Being a perfectly normal female, and having traveled in the company of an intelligent, amusing, handsome man for the last three weeks’ ride, I would very much like to know if you’d mind my jumping all over you, once we get to Ijesh…. After we bathe, of course. I have grit in places only a sand-demon would enjoy.”

  That was too blunt. It shocked a laugh out of Elrik, not expecting royalty to be quite so forthright. She joined him, chuckling. Shaking his head—carefully holding his palm-woven hat—he asked, “How did you manage to be so…normal, growing up as a princess?”

  “With great care on my father’s part. He didn’t always have time for us, but he made sure my sister and I visited with our mother’s kin, who were given instructions to treat us as just another pair of kids. No spoiling, no laxing of discipline, and no holding back of love. And he made sure that we knew he loved us, just for being ourselves. Our tutors were also instructed to teach us how to see through flattery and obsequious fawning, and to know when someone was being honest and trustworthy…though I’ll admit that Truth Stones make a nice shortcut.” She smiled at him to show she was teasing.

  “It’s good to know I’ll always have employment,” he dared to joke back. Her earlier words finished sinking in, making him flush despite the heat of midafternoon. “So…you want to know if I’m interested in you?”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind speaking plainly about it,” Arasa said. She reminded herself silently that holding her breath was undignified. “And provided my little revelation hasn’t tipped the balance either way, in your original intent.”

  Elrik could understand that. Freeing one hand from the reins, he dug into the satchel slung at his side, and pulled out the Truth Stone. “I may be a little intimidated—all right, a lot intimidated by your station—but I’m still interested in you. Arasa-the-woman. Very interested. More than I probably should be, given your station.”

  The stone was unblemished when he unfurled his fingers. Arasa blushed. “Well. Now it remains to be seen if you can handle being in the midst of the madness that surrounds my ‘station.’ At least the bed will be big and soft.”

  “Assuming your father doesn’t have me thrown out, or worse,” he muttered. At her sharp look, he gestured at his freckled face. “For being a foreign commoner, and daring to want to touch his child.”

  “Considering he arranged for my sister and me to have formal instruction in the erotic arts as soon as we reached adult status, plus the necessary contraceptive amulets, and gave us a message to ‘play responsibly,’ I don’t think it’s as big a concern as you’re fearing,” Arasa revealed dryly. “Kalasa certainly took advantage of his tacit permission for such things, but then I’ve always been more bookish than her. You don’t run across that many males who are both interested and young enough in the Royal Archives. They’re more apt to be found hanging around the Imperial Salle, which was where she spent most of her own time. She’s cultivated a certain…oh, I don’t know, an allure, I guess, a confidence and charm that makes it difficult for some men to resist her.”

  From the way she didn’t look his way, Elrik guessed she had seen some men who had been interested in her turning to her twin instead, in the past. “Kalasa, that’s your sister’s name, right?” Elrik asked. She nodded, checking her Wall-Finder again. “Kalasa means ‘sunlight’ in the Imperial tongue…and Arasa means ‘moonlight.’” He smiled, looking at the slowly approaching canyons in the distance. “I’ve always been more partial to moonlight, myself.”

  Glancing at him, Arasa caught sight of that smirk, and felt warmed by it. “Given how pale your skin is, it’s probably a good thing. Time to stop and rest the horses, I think.”

  Complying, he dismounted with her. While she tended to her Imperial Mares, stripping the saddle off the one she was riding, he removed the saddle from his own petite steed, allowing both of them to air-dry. When he set out the drinking pan for Juniper, filling it with water from one of the skins strapped to the saddle, his horse guzzled it eagerly, all but inhaling the liquid. A brief grooming with her curry brush was all she needed to smooth down the hairs of her brown hide, and when the water was gone, he added a double handful of grain and dried fruit to the shallow wooden bowl, allowing her to lip up the grains.

  Elrik moved to help Arasa water and feed her own horses, as he had during the length of their journey. Imperial Mares were known for their ability to fight as fiercely as any Flame Sea warrior, with an almost doglike loyalty to their riders. Yet after he was introduced to each of them by her guiding his hand to their nostrils for a whiff of his scent, they had seemed as tame as plow-horses.

  Given their normally fierce reputation, he thought it was little wonder he hadn’t made the connection. And it was true that they had stomped on the occasional snake or sand-demon, crushing them flat, but even a normal horse would do that. Even after he knew what they were, he couldn’t see a reason to be afraid of them.

  It did make him wonder how the courtiers of the Empire would view his presence, and that made him nervous. Firming his courage, he asked, “Are you sure you want to take me to your chambers, once we get to Ijesh? I don’t want to cause trouble with your father’s Court. The other Am’n might look down on you.”

  Arasa quirked one of her blond brows as she stroked her own currying brush down Lake’s golden limbs. “Elrik, you’re a mage. That automatically gives you a high status in the Empire. You don’t need to be born to a Noble Family to command a certain respect—if anyone gives you any trouble, just threaten to turn their nose into a sausage, or something.”

  The absurdity of the suggestion made him chuckle ruefully. “In the southern lands, the suggestion would be to ‘turn you into a toad,’” he mock-cackled, curling his fingers and wrinkling his nose. Relaxing, he shook his head. “But I wouldn’t turn anyone into a toad in the desert. That’s just too cruel.”

  “Then you’re a kindhearted man,” she observed, glancing at him. “How do you survive on such a volatile border?”

  “Oh, make no mistake,” Elrik corrected her, pausing in the middle of brushing Thunder’s hindquarters. Unclipping the metal-wrapped staff slung at his side like a sword, he watched an approaching lump wriggling its way toward them, forming a rill of disturbed sand in its wake. “I can and will defend myself. I have defended myself, in the past. I just prefer to be politely civilized rather than barbarically belligerent.”

  A stab of his arm and a jab of his thumb thrust the spring-loaded spike into the middle of the squirming bump. Something squealed, the sand shiv
ered and twitched, and he planted his boot on the mound, extracting the spike without revealing the beige-scaled beast. He’d seen them before; there was no need to see them again. A couple jabs of the silvered spike in the sand helped scrape off the bluish-white ichor; a tap against his boot-heel shook the grit free, allowing him to retract the tip. It would need cleaning later, when they had the water to spare, but then it had needed cleaning after their last pause for rest. Thankfully, once they reached the hardpan desert, where the soil was too solid to burrow through, the sand-demons would be left behind.

  The oversized palomino twisted her head around, snorted softly, and flicked him in the small of his back with her tail, telling him silently but eloquently to get back to scratching all her travel-borne itches with that lovely currying brush still in his other hand. No fool—especially now that he knew what the mare was, and what the rumors said she was capable of doing—Elrik clipped the staff back onto his belt and complied. Glancing at Arasa, he smiled wryly. “As you’ve seen, I can take care of myself, and those around me.”

  “Sand-demons can be dangerous, but some men can be even more so,” Arasa reminded him. “Swatting at mountain-flies for a week as we left Kumré, and then stabbing at sand-demons for two more weeks of crossing the Inner Desert, isn’t the same as one moment of heart-stopping battle.”

  “Sometimes sand-demons swim under the surface with six legs, and sometimes they stride across the land on two. The wise traveler is always prepared against either kind—let us concede each other’s point,” Elrik added, heading off further argument. “And focus on more important matters. Such as the danger I will be in from Thunder, here, if I do not finish currying her.”

  * * *

  Ijesh was a strange but wondrous place. Legend said the place had been inhabited ever since the most primitive of times…but legend also said that water had not flowed reliably through these canyons until the First Emperor had come to this place. Now, however, there was an abundance of water, though at first one didn’t see signs of it.

 

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