by Anna Kashina
Jamal squared his shoulders. “If you leave me in charge, you will be forcing me to lead my men into a war we were not planning to fight.”
“Your planning has nothing to do with it, Prince. The enemy we are after is fighting to restore the Old Empire. If the Majat can’t stop them, their next step would be to obliterate everyone standing in their way, starting with the closest lands. Shayil Yara. Do you really want to see this happen when we can preempt such an outcome?”
His eyes narrowed. “And I suppose we have only your word to prove it, Your Majesty.”
“Yes.”
“Not good enough.”
She sighed. “I’m curious, Jamal. If I take your bait just now and throw you in a dungeon, what could you possibly gain from it? Your men will march into this battle anyway.”
“Reluctantly.”
She glanced at the troops, at the people lining the far end of the plaza chanting her name. She had a good feeling they would follow her willingly if it came to that, even if Jamal’s imprisonment would certainly shake things up.
“Are you trying to become a martyr to your men?” she asked. “To prove a point to them by forcing a punishment upon yourself?”
He kept his silence, but his uncertain look told her that her words had hit the mark.
“I will not play this game with you,” she said. “Not only because you are my closest family, even if you may not feel this way, but also because I know you are a good man, loyal to your country.”
His lips twitched. “What could you possibly know about that?”
“Do you believe I’m wrong about you?”
He receded a bit. “I don’t judge my qualities the same way, Your Majesty. I’ve been a good commander to the Golden Lions, yes. But up until now, our Queen has never doubted my ability to train my men.”
She smiled. “I am not doubting it either, Jamal. The Golden Lions have a unique opportunity to train with the Majat’s top warriors, whose skill is far superior to anything you’ve ever seen. Any good commander would beg for a chance like that – not try to push it away when it’s offered freely.”
The smile playing on Jamal’s lips taunted her with a challenge. “Far superior?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know, sister?”
Sister. Against reason, the word filled her with warmth. She never had any kin, never thought it was even possible for her. And now, despite all the defiance Jamal was showing her, despite the fact that he had recently participated in her abduction, she couldn’t help feeling a bond with him. The feeling took her by surprise as she looked into his face, recognizing some of the features she had grown used to seeing during her very rare glances into a mirror – the line of the eyebrows, the high cheekbones, the pale golden hair lying against his neck in a smooth wave. His face looked manly where hers was feminine, but now that her lineage was uncovered, it seemed strange to her that no one had spotted the resemblance as soon as she entered the palace. Or maybe they did?
“Tell you what,” she said. “If you can defeat me in a one-on-one fight, we’ll do things your way. If I win, you will submit to my command, no questions asked.”
He frowned, measuring her with his gaze. She could see his hesitation. He knew she was good, from the way he had trouble overpowering her even with the sleeping powder. But he couldn’t possibly know exactly how good she was. Her Majat ranking was no longer an open topic of discussion, not with the way she had been cast out of the Guild and maintained her outsider status in order to be close to Mai.
“Very well,” Jamal said.
She met his eyes, her nerves alit with the same excitement she saw in his gaze. If they would have had an opportunity to play together as children, it could have been exactly like this. A game. In another life, it could have been the most natural thing – to have a wrestling match with her twin brother so that they could determine who was the best at it.
“Bring us a pair of training swords,” she said over her shoulder, not addressing anyone in particular but knowing that there would be several guards there who would know what to do.
“What type, Your Majesty?” a tall guard woman next to her asked.
She held Jamal’s gaze. “Scimitars.”
He raised his eyebrows, even as the sound of running feet told her that a messenger had been dispatched to fulfill her order. “Scimitars?”
“Isn’t this your weapon of choice, brother?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You think you can beat me with a scimitar?’
She didn’t respond as she took off her royal cloak and handed it to another guard standing behind her. The swords arrived, finer-looking than any weapons she normally used in practice. She tested the balance, then the edge to make sure it was sufficiently blunted, watching him do the same.
“I don’t want to hurt you, my Queen,” he said.
“If I were you, Prince, I would be worrying about other things right now.”
Jamal didn’t respond. He looked confident, but Kara could also sense the caution behind it as he raised his sword and moved into position.
Her queen’s outfit wasn’t ideal for fighting, her bracelets of station weighting down her left arm, her sandals too thin to maintain proper footing. Yet, as he picked up speed, she forgot all about it, absorbed in the fun of matching his moves, leaving him openings for sneaky attacks she could counter with her own. The plaza around them became a blur, the only focus her opponent’s face, so familiar and close now that she was recognizing more and more of their common features. My brother, my flesh and blood. During this fight she felt she was learning to understand him like no other.
His blade was flying in perfect patterns Kara recognized from her early training, his reflexes far superior to those of a regular warrior. If he, like Kara, had been sold into the Majat Guild as a child, he would have been her fellow in rank by now. But without that proper training, he was no match for her at all. Even in her awkward outfit, weakened from her recent ordeal, she would have no trouble overpowering him at all.
The chant of the crowd rose to a deafening roar as the Golden Lions joined too, clanging their swords on their shoulder plates. Aljahara, Aljahara, Aljahara…
Kara was sure by now that she had gotten the message across. It was time to end the show.
She held Jamal’s gaze as she snaked her blade forward around his, hitting it sideways and up, close to the hilt, so that it flew out of his hand in a perfect arc, clearly visible throughout the plaza. It landed straight down, sticking between the floorboards at his feet, wavering from the impact.
Jamal stepped back, looking at her in disbelief. “You’re good. Far better than I thought.”
She smiled. “So are you. But you and your men can become even better, if properly trained. All you need to do is follow orders, Prince.”
“If you say so.” He bowed his head. “As a man of my word, I am upholding my part of the bargain. I surrender to your command, my Queen.”
This time, she sensed no defiance in his stance. His awed expression made her feel so relieved. Perhaps, in time, they would be able to catch up on some of the things they’d missed, even learn to love each other, like family?
She turned to the roaring plaza and raised her hand to signal silence, bringing the tempest to a standstill.
“We face a formidable enemy,” she said, putting force into her voice so that it carried easily through the large space. “I know the Golden Lions to be our best, and I expect you all to do your best, for your country and your Queen!”
“For our country and our Queen!” The cry swept the plaza, louder than before. It seemed as if the walls at her back trembled with the impact as the wave of sound hit it and rolled back, over the heads of the crowd.
She waited for the roar to quiet down, then turned to Mai, standing behind her. His smile filled her with warmth, making her feel more proud of herself than she had in a very long time.
Mai was the best commander she had ever known. Even aside from her
feelings for him, his approval meant the world.
“Aghat Mai,” she said formally. “The people of Shayil Yara are honored and grateful for the help you and your warriors have offered in training our troops and allowing us to march into battle by your side. We are aware of the Majat Guild’s political neutrality and understand that this is by no means an alliance, and that our current dealings will have no long term effect on our queendom’s relations with your Guild. For now, however, we rest in confidence that the presence of the Majat warriors by our side will ensure the complete destruction of the Kaddim.”
Mai inclined his head as the wail in the plaza rose again and continued for a very long time. She held his gaze, reflecting on how her position as a queen, while elevating her rank, had also made her inferior to him in status in the way she had never been before. As a fellow Diamond, and later as the woman he was intending to marry, she had always been his equal. And now, each of their interactions had to be preceded with so many formalities and protocol that she felt lost.
The only thing she wanted right now was to step into his arms and bury her face in his chest. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to do this again.
35
The Desert Wanderers
Raishan watched her with a straight face, but Kara could guess the play of emotions in the way his eyebrow rose briefly at the sight of her royal regalia and the Golden Lion guards forming a semicircle behind her. The muscles around his eyes crinkled with a hidden smile that never made it to his lips. She answered him in kind, smiling with eyes only.
As a friend, she would have hugged him right now to greet him after a long absence. All she was allowed to do as the Queen was give him a brief nod.
“It’s good to see you again, Aghat Raishan.”
“Your Majesty.” He bowed to her exactly to the extent warranted, folding his palms according to Shayil Yaran customs. The Diamonds received perfect training in etiquette. Even under these extraordinary circumstances, he would have made their tutors proud just now.
Her heart ached as she looked at him. Would she ever again be able to openly call him a friend? Would she ever again sit side by side with her fellow Diamonds, polishing weapons and exchanging fireside tales? She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about this now, but the sight of Raishan brought back all the uncertainty and frustration of the past few days, when she had finally realized the extent of the restrictions imposed onto her by her new role.
She sighed. Now that they had reunited with the Majat forces, she had far more immediate concerns, like securing the allegiance of the Cha’idi leaders, and the fact that once they reached the Kaddim fortress her mind link would become active again and the nightmare that had been haunting her before their meeting with Ayalla would return in full force. For the moment, though, she was glad to put these thoughts aside to enjoy something she had taken for granted before – standing next to a fellow Diamond without a dozen guards in between.
“The leaders of the Cha’idi nomads are waiting for you in the tent over there, Your Majesty,” Raishan said.
She glanced at the group waiting near the tent entrance, wrapped head to toe in their loose sand-colored robes that made it impossible even to guess their gender, let alone distinguish any other features. Jamal stood beside them, looking determined but unconcerned. She heaved a breath of the dry desert air, tinged with the smells of smoke and stew from the cooking fires. For once, she felt grateful that Jamal was going into that tent by her side. While their bonding so far was not going as well as she hoped, as a member of the royal family and the commander of their troops he should have a much better idea what to expect. His calm look was reassuring, even if the way he narrowed his eyes when he looked her way echoed with an unpleasant hollowness in her chest. Why did her family relations have to be so complicated?
“Any word from Kyth?” she asked.
Raishan’s gaze wavered. “I, um, apologize for this, Your Majesty, but at Aghat Mai’s request I am not free to divulge any details to you, besides assuring you that Prince Kythar is on his way.”
She nodded. Mai’s orders made perfect sense. According to the information relayed by Egey Bashi, once she approached the Kaddim fortress she was likely going to forget everything she was and rush over to their side. No one knew for certain how long she had before this was going to happen, or whether anyone would even get any warning before she turned. She knew that Mai was going to do everything in his power to prevent the worst by keeping her under guard, possibly immobilized, but with her combat skill there could be no guarantees. The last thing they all wanted was for her to learn any details about their plans that went beyond the absolutely essential ones.
Her gaze trailed to a distant activity in the camp, centered around the crates that had arrived by a special delivery at their last stop. Top grade weapons, compliments of Lord Garet von Eyvern. An extra favor Mai had been able to obtain due entirely to his personal connections.
Her eyes tingled with rising tears. When they had met with Lord Garet, she still had hope. And now, she couldn’t even speak to Mai without a dozen witnesses waiting to twist her every word. She didn’t even have any time to compose herself before walking into a tent where one of the most important issues about their campaign had to be decided in a private conversation, with no one friendly enough to help her along. Jamal would be there, of course, but the way he was looking at her lately, with a mix of suspicion and challenge, left no hope that he would make any effort on her behalf.
She bowed her head in a brief goodbye, then turned abruptly and walked away toward the tent before Raishan could catch the emotion in her face.
The Cha’idi leaders looked nearly indistinguishable from each other, their tightly wrapped headgear leaving open only the eyes, purple like the stormy desert sky. As Kara and Jamal walked into the tent, they rose, eyeing them for a long moment. Then, as if on command, they bared their faces and sank to their knees.
Kara felt a surge of relief as she watched this display of loyalty. Up until now she hadn’t been sure what to expect. She kept her face straight as she surveyed her visitors.
It should have come as no surprise that the person in the front was a woman, middle-aged, with parched skin and a commanding presence. The two men behind her were also in their middle years, each sporting an impressive set of old scars on their faces and necks. All of them looked at Kara with awed curiosity that made her feel far too exposed.
“Queen Aljahara,” the woman said, her deep guttural voice reverberating clearly through the small space of the tent. “We were so overjoyed to learn of your return. You look just like your mother, if you forgive an old woman for saying so.”
Kara’s eyes widened. “You knew my mother?”
The woman smiled. “She and I played as children when we grew up. Our whole nation mourned when we heard of her death. It is our privilege to serve you, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you…” Kara hesitated, realizing she had not been told the woman’s name.
The woman bowed again. “Please forgive my manners, my Queen. I am Ulhari, the Cha’idi farseer. These are my warrior elders, Khurram and Farikh.”
Farseer. Kara had prior dealings with the Cha’ori nomads that dominated the north, the distant cousins of the Cha’idi nation, ruled by women foretellers who could predict the future. She assumed a farseer was a title similar to that. In her position she should be far more knowledgeable about the Cha’idi customs, but all she could do right now was learn on the fly.
“I am honored to meet you, Ulhari,” she said. “I understand you know my brother, Prince Jamal, the commander of the Golden Lions battalion.”
Ulhari bowed her head. “We had dealings with Prince Jamal before. A pleasure to see you again, Your Highness.”
Jamal kept his face impassive as he bowed in acknowledgement, but Kara saw the warmth in his eyes as they rested on the older woman. Her heart panged with longing. She wished she could see the same warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. She dismissed th
e thought, useless like many of the others that dominated her head lately. Being a queen meant coming to terms with her loneliness, making it a part of her daily life. She wondered how others could possibly cope with these kinds of roles.
“Rise,” she said. “We have much to talk about.” She gestured to the seating pillows arranged around a small camping stove, redundant in the high heat of the desert afternoon, but so welcome at night when the temperatures dropped to near freezing.
The Cha’idi rose to their feet and waited for Kara and Jamal to take their seats before settling on the other side of the stove. They kept their backs straight, the knees of their crossed legs lying flat on the floor in positions that would have seemed uncomfortable to anyone raised indoors. Curious, Kara tried to imitate it, finding it surprisingly easy once she settled into it. She smiled, catching Ulhari’s approving gaze.
“You’re a natural,” the old woman said. “Just like your mother.”
Like my mother. Kara forcibly kept herself from looking at Jamal. Ulhari was speaking about his mother too, someone who would have been so dear to both of them if life hadn’t scattered them all around in such unpredictable ways.
“I envy you for knowing her, Ulhari,” she said. “One day, when this war is over, I hope you can tell me more about what she was like.”
Ulhari smiled. “I can tell you right now that you would have made her proud, Aljahara. You and Jamal, even though I can tell you both have a long way to go in getting to know each other.”
This time Kara did glance at Jamal, quivering as she saw his eyes fixed on her in a slow appraisal, as if deciding if she was worthy. During the march, she was able to earn his grudging respect. But she knew they did indeed have a long way to go toward any warmer feelings.
“You speak of a war,” Ulhari said. “Tell us more.”
Kara nodded. “The enemy we are facing is far superior to anyone Shayil Yara has seen before. Your help would be invaluable, if you can lend it to us.”