Running Wild

by Lucinda Betts

  She nodded briefly, then bade him to stand. She linked her arm in his and began to walk toward the palace. With relief, Tahir saw that Shahrazad seemed perfectly at ease with this arrangement, falling in next to Kalila and Ayoob.

  “You have found your sister,” the queen asked him, her voice low. Tahir saw the worry in her expression. “No doubt you brought her back expecting a reward—despite your disobedience.”

  “I brought her back because the augury suggested we’d be overrun by shitani if I didn’t.”

  “You brought her back because it was the honorable thing to do.” Was she sneering at him?

  “Mother,” Tahir said, keeping his temper under control. “Have I ever behaved in a manner contrary to that?”

  “No.” She sighed. “You haven’t. Tell me of the shitani, then.”

  “We flew over an abandoned keep in the Amr Mountains.”

  “I’ve heard of that place,” she said. “But I wasn’t certain it actually existed. Did you see shitani there?

  “Thousands of them, hundreds of thousands. They were leaving the keep, scrambling over the crags toward the Land of the Moon.”

  “After which they could hook around the pass and invade the Land of the Sun.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what exactly was Kalila doing there?”

  Tahir considered the long answer wherein he described the state in which he’d found his sister, and he opted for a different truth altogether. “She was being held prisoner by Badr the Bad.”

  “The magician. Did you fight and defeat him?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “The magician lives.” He shook his head in frustration. “I believe the magician is manipulating more than we can see. He—or she—gave us Kalila.”

  “What does Badr want in exchange? Perhaps we should send out Warqueen Abbesses to kill him.”

  “She wants a replacement, and killing her isn’t easy because she seems to vanish at will and take any form. She also controls the shitani to some extent.” Tahir paused, meeting her gaze so she could see the importance of his request. “Besides that, we have something more important to do with the Warqueen Abbesses.”

  “And what is that?”

  “We need them at the Sultan’s palace.”

  His mother blinked her heavily lidded eyes at him and then said, “Never.”

  “Never?” He tried—and failed—to curtail his anger.

  “I cannot leave our home exposed, not with the demons so close. We need the Warqueens here.”

  “With the Warqueens at the Sultan’s palace, the shitani will never arrive here.”

  “Do not patronize me, son,” she said. “I know what you’re thinking, but your job isn’t to decide, it isn’t to rule. Your job is to impregnate the Houses of my choice.”

  At her words, he expected rage, but that wasn’t what washed over him. Instead, cold certainty filled him. He couldn’t allow shitani to overrun the Land of the Moon.

  “I want you to go from here to your quarters. Wash up there, and then go to the Impregnation chambers of House Nouf. You were suggesting that we ally with them, and I believe you’re correct.”

  “If you don’t send the Warqueen Abbesses to the Land of the Moon,” he said, hearing tightness in his voice but leaving it there for his mother to hear, “your daughter will revolt against you.”

  “Pah,” the queen snorted. “She’s more interested in riding and dancing than in fighting. She’ll be drinking her way to oblivion before she takes an interest in this problem.”

  “I don’t think you understand the depth of her loathing of the creatures. Kalila might not long to rule, but she longs to fight for this cause. She’ll not allow you to leave the Land of the Moon unprotected. She’s already agreed it’s the best use of our resources.”

  “Given the insolent way in which you are addressing me, I should have Ayoob take you to the dungeon. However, I am a loving mother, and I understand that you are hungry and tired. I will excuse you—this once—and I will tell you to wash and go fuck the representative from House Nouf.”

  Tahir simply looked at his mother. Finally he said, “You’re wrong.” He extricated his arm from his mother’s and turned around, back toward Princess Shahrazad. Her black-as-night hair had never seemed so beautiful to him. He took her arm and led her back toward the courtyard.

  “Tahirdro!” Kalila called. “Where are you going?” Take me with you, he heard in her tone.

  “I’m leaving. Apparently, you are to lead the Warqueen Abbesses to—”

  “I’ll lead them to the Land of the Moon and nowhere else.”

  “I suggest you tell that to Queen Kulwanti,” he said, marching back to the courtyard.

  For a moment, the royal retinue seemed confused. Should they remain with the queen, who appeared dumfounded, or should they follow the prince? Since they’d never in their lives followed a man, Tahir took their hesitation as a good sign, but he didn’t gloat. Instead, he walked toward the open area, where Shahrazad could leap into flight without any difficulty.

  Suddenly, he realized that the royal party was following him toward the courtyard, and fear lapped bitterly in his blood.

  His mother would forsake him now, in his moment of greatest need, simply because he’d finally spoken against her. Would she order him to stop and then fill him with arrows?

  He took the emerald-studded bridle and handed it to Shahrazad. “This may turn ugly very quickly.”

  “Then let’s leave.” She was already sliding the headstall over her hair and the bit between her teeth.

  “Yes.”

  “Stop!” The queen ordered in her most imperious voice. “Prince Tahir of the House Kulwanti, I command you to stop.”

  Tahir considered leaping onto Shahrazad’s bared back, ignoring his mother and flying away forever. But what good would that do? Instead, he climbed deliberately onto his mount and turned to look back. The time had come for him to make a stand.

  “I am going, my queen,” he said, looking down at her from astride the pegaz. “I’m going to protect the Land of the Moon, the land of my beloved.” He felt Shahrazad quiver beneath him but paid her no heed. “In doing so, I’ll protect our own land—and I’ll do this with or without your blessing.”

  “Then you will go,” the queen said, her voice ringing through the courtyard and beyond, “as General of the Warqueen Abbesses.”

  She nodded to Ayoob, who approached him, bowed respectfully, and offered him a gift Tahir wouldn’t have expected in a hundred lifetimes: the Torc of the Warqueens, which gleamed dully in the noonday sun.

  15

  She rode a borrowed mare behind Prince Tahir on his stripe-legged stallion. Unlike her mount, his wasn’t beautiful, but there was something impudent in his eye, and Shahrazad knew he was wise.

  Leading the Warqueen Abbesses around the Amr Mountains to the Land of the Moon, Tahir seemed happier than she’d ever seen him. Or perhaps that was simply the effect of the kiss she’d given him in front of his mother and the entire peerage. Now, his back was straight, and his dark face calm. The torc added to his beauty. The shitani should fear his might.

  The shitani should also fear his army, she thought, casting a glance back at the battalion of Warqueen Abbesses, but God’s eyes, what would her father think of an army of women on their identical horses? Bearing their long bows and arrows fletched in the black feathers of the saker falcon, the Warqueen Abbesses looked fierce.

  Suddenly his hands went to his head, as if he were in pain.

  “Tahir,” she said quietly.

  “Yes, beloved.”

  “Is she here? Does the magician approach?” She reined in her mare. “Or is it the demons?”

  “The magician.” He nodded. “Perhaps this is the time of reckoning.”

  “Look.” She pointed. A figure appeared in the distance, almost too far away to see—but Shahrazad recognized her immediately. It was the magician—Badra—in the form of a woman.


  He immediately called the Warqueens to a halt with an efficient hand signal—as though he’d been commanding them his entire life.

  “Badra,” he said. She watched his thigh muscles tighten around his stallion. “That’s her, waiting for us.”

  And Shahrazad’s stomach roiled because she didn’t know what to anticipate. She didn’t know what to demand. She no longer wanted the curse lifted from her, not now that she could control it. She no longer wanted the tattoo gone from her back. The Raj would ally his army regardless of her suitability. She could no longer demand that the magician call the demons away—because she understood the magician barely controlled them any longer, and Tahir’s sister was returned to the throne.

  All was set to vanquish the shitani.

  Tahir turned toward the Warqueen commander, a tall, spare woman with a narrow nose and even narrower eyes. Her hair was pulled tightly against her scalp and tucked into a gray helmet.

  “Wait here,” he ordered. “If we fail to return before the sun moves one length, continue to the Land of the Moon. You’re to report to the Sultan in that case.”

  “Very well, Prince Tahir,” she said.

  Tahir reined his horse in next to Shahrazad’s, and he held out his hand to her. She took it, and together they galloped toward the magician, spewing thick plumes of desert dust into the air, her horse’s hooves pounding in tandem with those of his stallion.

  “You,” Tahir roared to the magician before his horse fully stopped. “I should kill you on the spot for all the havoc you’ve caused.”

  The blond-haired woman merely shrugged at this threat. “You believe it’s a weakness, Prince Tahir, but it’s actually your strength.”

  “Don’t engage her in conversation, my prince,” Shahrazad said. “It only brings tribulation.”

  “What is?” he asked the magician, perhaps unable to ignore her. Shahrazad wasn’t surprised. Neither her father nor the Raj had been able to ignore this magician either. “What’s my strength?” he demanded. “Tell me so I may use it against you.”

  “You’re unwillingness to use violence except in the most exceptional circumstances. It is a characteristic you will pass to your children, and they will all become good leaders because of it.”

  “I have no time for this, Badra,” Tahir said.

  “Your sister lacks that strength,” Badra said, her violet eyes glowing in the afternoon light.

  “If you remain in the center of this path,” Tahir said, “you’ll be trampled beneath the hooves of the Warqueens’ mounts.”

  “I’ve no fear of the Warqueens, Prince Tahir. It’s the shitani I dread.”

  He scoffed. “I’m surprised to hear such drivel from you, given all you’ve done to make my land and the Land of the Moon vulnerable to their attack.”

  “Me?” she said, arching an elegant eyebrow and touching her chest with a tapered fingernail.

  “Yes, you. Every augury that warned against something, you brought to bear. No man may touch Princess Shahrazad, so a male magician—you—touched her. The Raj may fuck no woman, so he fucked a female magician—you. I needed my sister to prevent the shitani invasion, and who kidnapped her? You.”

  “Save me and I’ll save you.”

  “You’ll save nothing,” he growled. “We’re on our way to repulse the demon horde we’ve seen scrambling toward us. And your actions brought the demons here. We read the books—you woke them.”

  “The shitani would have come anyway. They woke. They’ll invade. It’s what they do.”

  “Camelshit. You control them.”

  “Look at your life before you judge.”

  “I look at you and judge.”

  “You think you can control them better than I?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then do it. Come to me.”

  “Never,” he spat, but the magician wasn’t looking at him any longer.

  “And you, Princess Shahrazad,” Badra added. “You stand there knowing you can fly away at will, to the farthest ends of the earth if you so desire. It is your turn to help me.”

  “I think not. I’ll save my land using more conventional means. You’re no model for the kind of person I strive to be.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Go rule the nine hells, you evil bitch,” Tahir interjected.

  “But why?” Shahrazad asked the magician. “If you wanted our help, why did you ruin our lives?”

  “Your lives were already ruined, tied and bound by the most ridiculous mores.” The sun’s light changed ever so slightly, and fine lines under the woman’s eyes became visible. Shahrazad could see that the magician’s forehead wasn’t as smooth as she’d believed.

  “That is no answer,” Tahir snarled, and again he turned away from her.

  But Shahrazad paused for a moment. “Oh, Badra,” she said, seeing the answer. “Those mores weren’t so stupid in the end, were they?” Her voice was just barely louder than the sand blowing over the dunes. “You’ve had no one for so long—you can’t remember the art of giving for others.”

  “Don’t pity me, little princess.”

  But she did. “You thought we’d flee when our lives became hard—but we didn’t.”

  “You will.”

  “I don’t believe our lives can be more difficult than they are in this moment, Badra,” Shahrazad said. “And we’re not running.”

  The magician stepped back, her chin pointed haughtily. “You have no idea. And when you realize you cannot kill every shitani, then you will come to me—but it will be too late.”

  “I’ll never replace you,” Tahir said.

  “Go torment your other candidates,” Shahrazad told the magician.

  “But Prince Tahir,” the magician said. “My demons favor you and you bear no mark.” Badra pulled up her billowing ruby skirt to show her beautifully muscled thigh. A snake, much like the one across Shahrazad’s back, slithered around and up, disappearing between the magician’s thighs.

  “I don’t want one,” Tahir said.

  But the magician struck. Badra flew through the air like a dervish. She caught Tahir by the back of his neck and pulled him from his horse. She embraced him then, twining her arms around his neck.

  Tahir resisted at first, seemingly oblivious to the long tapered fingernails raking his hair—but then he gave in, melting into her arms, giving himself to the pleasure. His powerful hand wrapped around Badra’s neck and pulled her toward him. The kiss wasn’t gentle; it was savage.

  And Shahrazad hated it.

  In that moment, she knew exactly how she felt about the prince. All equivocal feelings were gone, replaced by certainty.

  He was hers, and not for one night as the Raj had offered; he was hers first and foremost. He was hers and only hers. Badra’s lips did not belong on his.

  “Badra,” she commanded, kicking her mare so it nearly rammed the couple. “Stop it now.” She leaned over and grabbed the magician’s shoulder, jerking with all of her strength.

  The pair split apart, but it was too late. A snake tattoo wrapped around Tahir’s neck, its fanged face posed to strike from his cheek.

  “Now,” Badra said with a calculated smile. “You’re marked like the others.”

  Tahir wiped his mouth, his expression of disgust unhidden. “I’ll never help you, Badra.” But his hand ran over the new tattoo like it burned him—as Shahrazad knew it did.

  “When you see the shitani roiling over your land, you’ll change your mind.”

  “I’ll die first—” he started to say. But a dust devil filled the narrow path, and when it cleared, Badra had vanished.

  When they galloped into Shahrazad’s beloved courtyard, her first thought was panic. They needed soldiers filling the area and spilling into the neighboring desert, but she saw no one. Her ears heard the clanging of no swords, which meant only one thing: the Sultan and the Raj were not prepared for the impending invasion.

  As his stallion—Kateb, he’d told her—slowed to a stop, Tahir leaped from his
back.

  “I need to tell them,” she said to him. “I must convince the Sultan, the Raj, and his men to prepare now.”

  “Your men,” he corrected.

  Her men. She liked the sound of that. “My men, if you insist.”

  “Wait for me. I’ll go with you to your father. He’s not to be trusted.”

  “I can—”

  “He wants to behead you, beloved. And the Raj may betray you.”

  “We don’t have time. You must see to your troops. I must see to my father.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  She shrugged, acknowledging that she didn’t like it either but life gave them little choice. “The barracks are on the north side,” she told him, adjusting her sandals, which had been tugged loose in the ride. “Your troops will find food and water there. They’ll also find soldiers…my father’s soldiers.”

  “And no warm welcome.”

  She shrugged again, knowing it was true. “The Warqueens look capable.” Her father’s men—her men—would need to bury their arcane opinions of women if they wanted to survive the next two days.

  “They can handle it.”

  “You may meet me in my father’s chambers when you’re finished here,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. The snake tattoo around his neck and across his face made the angular planes of his cheeks even more gorgeous. She paused for a moment and caressed the new scales. “They’re very lovely.”

  “When we were walking back from the oasis and I told you you were smoldering,” Tahir said to her, “I had no idea what you were going to change into.”

  “You knew I was a pegaz. What do you mean?” she asked, insecurity stabbing her in her heart. She had crossed the line, been too bossy for his male ego. She should never have looked directly at him.

  “I mean this,” he said, stepping toward her. He wrapped one powerful palm around the small of her back and the other around the back of her head, and he kissed her right there in her father’s courtyard.

  She didn’t resist. How could she? His kiss tasted like something from a dream—sweet and powerful. She gave her mouth to him, luxuriating in the velvet caress of his lips and tongue.

  The glide of his lips over hers made her aware of her breasts, her thighs. Her breasts wanted his touch, his tongue and lips. The molten feeling between her thighs was becoming insistent.