A Lotus for the Regent

by Adonis Devereux

  “My lord, do not fear,” the festhall master whispered in his ear. “I will find her. I will have all my slaves and servants begin searching for her at once.”

  “Thank you.” Kamen understood Banar's desire to restore calm. He dealt in luxury, and if a full-scale war between the Ausir and the Sunjaa broke out, his business would suffer. How much it had already suffered because of the Ausir civil war, Kamen could only guess.

  Banar smiled and patted Kamen's shoulder. He clapped his hands as he waddled off, gathering all his people to him.

  Kamen turned back to his foes. “By this blood I swear it.” And he stalked away, leaving the Ausir dumb in amazement.

  “Where do you think she is?” Saerileth asked once they were alone.

  “Getting her out of the festhall would've been difficult,” Kamen said. “Besides, she hasn't been by herself long enough. I left her not half an hour ago.”

  “Then she is here.” Saerileth's blue eyes swept the room and out down one corridor and then another. Her clever mind was at work. “They would have had to have gagged her.”

  Kamen paced the room. “This place is a city. She might as well be secreted somewhere in Godswatch itself for all the good it'll do us.”

  “You take the east wing,” Saerileth said. “I'll take the west.”

  Kamen nodded. “Keep your ears open.”

  Saerileth smiled. “I am a Lotus. There is nothing wrong with my ears.”

  Kamen jogged off, returned to his apartments, and grabbed his shortblade. He tossed the scabbard aside and trotted out the door, moving up and down the corridors with naked steel in hand. He imagined coming across the kidnappers, surprising them, and spilling their guts across the floor. He would untie Ajalira and remove her blindfold, and she would leap into his arms and give him a hundred kisses for his rescue of her. He would tell her how much he loved her, and she would promise to never leave him. The Ausir be damned, nothing would divide them again.

  The sound of ringing steel spurred Kamen forward, and somehow he knew his fantasy rescue would not play out the way he had hoped. He was, after all, in love with a Tamari woman whose savagery was matched only by her beauty. When he turned the corner where the clanging of steel was loudest, he smiled. A door stood open, and an Ausir man ran in, his longsword drawn. Another one waited in the corridor behind his companion, and he called out something in Ausir to him. Kamen wished he understood, and he made a promise to himself right there that he would have Ajalira teach him.

  The man who had run into the room stumbled back out backwards clutching his stomach. His hands slipped across his abdomen as he tried to keep his innards from pouring out. Ajalira's long, scarred forearm appeared in the doorway as she thrust forward, piercing her enemy's neck and ending his life. The Ausir choked on his own bile, slipped on his own guts, and fell dead. The other Ausir raised his blade and cried out to Ajalira, though he did not advance.

  But Ajalira did. She was unharmed, and Kamen breathed easy. He did not approach but rather leaned on his shortblade and watched. He would not rob her of her kill. Besides, she had promised all her kills to him, and Kamen would not deny her the pleasure of offering her foes' bones to him. He would weave them into his dreadlocks and wear them with pride.

  Ajalira muttered something to her enemy and struck. The Ausir defended himself, but he did not strike back. He made a clumsy attempt to hit her across the face with the pommel of his sword, and then Kamen understood. Her jailers had been charged not to harm her. Kimereth had planned to take her by force and make himself King through her. Clever, but Ansim had gotten more than he had bargained for. How could he have expected to conquer Ajalira's unconquerable spirit?

  Ajalira lashed out and caught the Ausir guard's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood through his pale flesh. This brought out her enemy's fighting spirit, and he retaliated. Ajalira welcomed it, and Kamen drew himself up with pride to see her warrioress fires burn in her eyes. With a twist of her wrist, she sent her blade down the length of her foe's, stabbing him through the hand. When he dropped his weapon, Ajalira let slip a wordless battle cry and slashed him across the throat. She liked cutting throats, Kamen now realized, because that way the most blood possible flowed in offering to Alaxton.

  Once done, Ajalira chopped off the forefinger of each of her slain enemies and breathed a prayer to, Kamen guessed, Alaxton. She whispered in Ausir. Yes, learning Ajalira's language would only bring them closer together, and that he longed to do. Only after praying did she look up, and then she gasped.

  “Kamen!” She dropped her sword, ran to him, and kissed him all over his face, getting him just as bloody as she was. “You are here. You are here.”

  “Yes, I'm here.” Kamen returned her wild kisses as best he could.

  Tears rolled down Ajalira's face, and her voice was thick with sorrow. “They told me you had given me over. They told me you did not want me anymore.”

  “Abrexa's chain, I'll never let you go!” Kamen hugged her and pressed her head against his chest. “Damn fools thought to divide us.”

  “Never, never, never.” A kiss punctuated each word. Once she was at least partially satisfied, she drew back, her eyes wide and wild. “How long have you been standing here?”

  Kamen smiled wryly. “Long enough.”

  “Why did you not say anything?”

  Kamen adopted a casual air by leaning against the wall. “Gods shield I should disturb devotion.” He meant the killing, not the subsequent prayer.

  Ajalira fell to kissing him again, and Kamen returned her kisses, running his fingers through her hair. Thrilled to have her back in his arms, he lifted her off the ground and crushed her against him. “What happened?”

  “The Kimereth lord thought to rape me and force my honor into accepting him as husband.”

  Kamen was amazed at her acumen. “How do you know it was him?”

  “The way his men spoke. They invoked Mirsa, but since the cataclysm, the Seranimesti have worshiped Abrexa solely.”

  Kamen kissed her again. “I love you.”

  Ajalira rested her bloody forehead against his. “And I you, more than anything.” Her tears welled up afresh, flowing down her cheeks, leaving clear streaks through the blood. “I am so sorry, beloved. Forgive me even for thinking that I should … leave you.”

  Kamen shook his head, finding no words.

  “I am yours only, always. In honor as well as love.”

  “How?” Kamen could not understand why she was apologizing, but he understood her need to explain.

  “I realized something, and wish only I had done so ten minutes earlier!”

  “What's that?” Kamen luxuriated in her scents—blood, sweat, and ginger soap. A perfect combination for his savage beauty.

  “I am yours, just as you are mine.” She kissed his lips. “Sunjaa law binds us to each other, and that law is enough. Indeed, in giving our children rights of inheritance, I am, for all intents and purposes even in Ausir eyes, married to you. You cannot give me away.”

  “Nor would I.” Kamen wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Your honor is then satisfied?”

  “Yes, beloved,” Ajalira said. “The duty I owe you as recipient of my oath—” She gestured to the scars on her forearm. “—takes precedence over any other.”

  Kamen could only respond by embracing her more tightly.

  “And these, once clean—” Ajalira opened her hand to reveal three severed forefingers, “—are yours, trophies of my love and devotion.” She must have killed another in the room, for how else would she have gotten a sword in the first place?

  Saerileth turned the corner. “There you two are.”

  “You found us, then?” Kamen felt his good humor returning.

  “How could I not? Everyone in the festhall heard her screaming.” Saerileth offered Ajalira a slight bow, and Ajalira returned it. “They'll be coming. Fat Banar was on my heels.” She looked past the couple. “Kimereth?”

  Kamen nodded. “But ther
e's no real proof. He never showed his face, so it's Ajalira's word against his.”

  “Do you really have to accuse him, though?” Saerileth asked. “That you are certain is sufficient. You can rule against him now.”

  “True,” Kamen said. “There's no way I'd set Ansim Kimereth on the Ausir throne now.” He looked down at Ajalira whom he still held cradled in his arms. “But how did you overcome them all?”

  Ajalira was about to answer when raised voices prevented her. Fat Banar came panting down the corridor with hands waving in the air.

  “What's this? What's this? Bloodshed in my halls? Oh, Melara, have mercy! Oh, our minuets are turned to dirges!”

  Banar's slaves crowded around him and tried to prop up his obese frame as his knees buckled, and he moaned, and his eyes rolled in his head, and he fanned himself.

  “They are justly killed,” Ajalira said, her voice hard as the steel with which she had dispatched her kidnappers.

  “I am undone.” Banar's voice was a wail.

  “You will be compensated,” Kamen said. “Do not fear that word will get out about this. The one who has committed this treachery will do everything he can to keep his deeds silent. Besides, I am done with Godswatch.”

  This set off another round of weeping from Banar.

  “My lord?” Ajalira looked up into Kamen's eyes.

  “We'll stay another night until the tides are right, but then we're gone. I'll not brook any more shenanigans. If the Ausir want a King, then he'll be crowned by Jahen back in Arinport.”

  Though Tivanel Seranimesti did not approach, he watched from the end of the corridor with a curious eye. Kamen looked at him and nodded, and he hoped the Seranimesti lord took his meaning. Kamen was acknowledging the new Ausir King.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The door closed behind them, and Ajalira was alone with Kamen in their chambers. He smiled at her, and she thought her heart would burst with love.

  “You've gotten me bloody.” He teased her, smearing the blood across his chest.

  She saw, however, that not all the blood belonged to her enemies, for a long gash was on his left forearm. “What happened?” She caught his arm and held it. The cut was clean, but the angle was odd.

  “I took an oath.” Kamen's lighthearted tone could not distract Ajalira, and, still holding his arm, she looked up into his face.

  “Was this for me?” She knew the answer before she asked. It was not the Sunjaa way to seal an oath with blood, but Kamen had done so. “What was it?”

  “Of course it was for you, Lira.” Kamen leaned his brow down to hers. “I told them it was war if they didn't give you back.”

  Ajalira closed her eyes. Kamen had, despite her cruelty in thinking she should leave him, loved her enough to go to war for her sake. She pressed herself against him, thrusting her hands up into his dreadlocks. “My love.” She could not find any other words. “My love.”

  Kamen laughed and crushed her to him once more. “Lira, it's all right. I am here. I am not going anywhere, and I am not letting you go anywhere, either. Not ever.” He smoothed back her disheveled hair as he spoke. “But what happened, exactly, after I left? How did they capture you? Did they—hurt you?”

  “No.” Ajalira locked her arms around his neck. “They were saving me for the Kimereth lord.”

  The flash of fury in Kamen's eyes delighted Ajalira, as did the rough kiss he gave her before he let her go on.

  “When you left, I wandered to the balcony. I was not paying attention to anything, just … just sobbing.” Ajalira felt her cheeks burning, but she was not ashamed of having wept at the thought of division from Kamen. “Then five men set upon me. I killed one before they struck me with a poison dart.”

  “Poison?” Kamen's eyes narrowed. “Doubtless the assassins on the Aramina were also hired by the Kimereth.”

  Ajalira nodded. “I was not able to take one of the man's bones, though. If I knew what they had done with his body, I would go claim my spoils for you.” Suddenly the recollection of her missing dagger sent Ajalira to the balcony, where she dropped to her knees and began to look for it.

  “Lira?” Kamen stood at the balcony's edge. “They didn't leave his corpse.”

  “My dagger.” She rose. “The one you gave me.”

  “I found it.” Kamen opened his arms to her, and she ran to them. “It was how I knew they had set upon you.” He smiled. “It was the same dagger I used to seal my oath.”

  Ajalira covered his face with kisses once again. The very thought of division from Kamen had roused Ajalira's love, always on the verge of spilling over, into a raging torrent. She could not ever kiss him enough. Her hunger for him overwhelmed her, and a low growl rose in her throat.

  As his hands wandered from her waist to her breasts, a discreet cough arrested them.

  “Regent. Lady Ajalira.” Saerileth's placid face showed no emotion at finding them, blood-stained and bleeding, kissing each other as though they were trying to devour each other.

  “What is it?” Kamen addressed Saerileth, but he kept his eyes fixed on Ajalira's face.

  “The Ausir lords are clamoring for your return.”

  “Let them.” Kamen stroked back Ajalira's hair. “Lira hasn't told me yet how she escaped Kimereth's men.”

  Saerileth did not precisely smile. Ajalira noticed that Saerileth, as a consummate Lotus, displayed almost no emotion whatsoever. “Perhaps, Regent, I should take your lady away to have her bathed? Then you could tell the Ausir whom you have chosen.”

  “But I am not going to go to one of them.” Ajalira raised her chin defiantly.

  “That means that they will have to accept that there is someone with a better claim to the throne elsewhere.” Saerileth nodded toward Ajalira's belly.

  “If they want to have the line of Tamar on the throne, then the King's crown will go to Kamen!” said Ajalira.

  “She meant our future sons, Lira.” Kamen patted her belly. “If I place one of these Ausir on the throne, they will still doubt—for our children would have a claim.”

  “They will have to endure it,” said Ajalira. “They would do best to keep friends with the Sunjaa then.”

  “Banar has offered to host a festival celebration, a ball, tonight, to feast in honor of the naming of the King.” Saerileth nodded toward Ajalira. “So your lady needs a bath, as do you, Regent. Or will you go to the festival clad in the blood of your enemies?”

  “I will go clad in the colors of Tamar,” said Kamen. “I will use that to make my declaration. I will declare the Ausir King not only by rights of arbitration, not only because they have asked me to do so, but because, in right of Lira, the throne is mine to give.” He laughed. “If I'd thought of it that way earlier, we could've avoided this mess, too.”

  Ajalira knew he was trying to comfort her, and she nuzzled her face against his shoulder.

  “Still, Lady Ajalira would have been carried off, regardless of your words, Regent.” Saerileth continued to refer to Ajalira as a Sunjaa would, as “Lady Ajalira”, not “Lady Zomalin”. “The Kimereth would have taken her to cut off your ability to choose. Once Lady Ajalira's birth-blood was known, they sought a way to cut you out of the decision. Had Lady Ajalira chosen to leave you, Regent, and go to the Kimereth, as they thought that she would, then your declaration of King would have been pointless. Even the Seranimesti would have followed the Kimereth then, for the Seranimesti have acknowledged Lady Ajalira's claim more readily.”

  Ajalira shuddered. “They are despicable.”

  “What are your house colors?” asked Kamen, drawing Ajalira back to the present.

  “I have only the falcon of the Itenu,” said Ajalira. “No colors at all.”

  Kamen laughed. “And the colors of the Tamar House?”

  “They were black and green.” Ajalira smiled. “Is that what you would have me wear?”

  “We will both go clad as royal Ausir tonight, Lira.” Kamen turned to Saerileth, who still stood, motionless and patient, waiting
for them to finish their lovers' teasing. “Tell the Ausir that I will, at the celebration, announce the King, and I will catch the morning tide. The coronation will be in Arinport, for there is no reason to stay in this place overrun by traitors.”

  ****

  Ajalira shook out the folds of her dress. She wore green silk, with the fitted bodice and high neckline appropriate to an Ausir noblewoman. But the gown seemed strange, constricting and confining, and she disliked it. The black laces of her bodice, however, did have one pleasing function. She was able slip her dagger there, and the stiffness of the bodice, coupled with the tightness of the laces, kept the dagger motionless. Its golden handle and glittering aquamarines were the only part of her garments that she liked. She had refused, however, to go without her silver crown. That symbol of her position as the Regent's concubine was not something she would forgo.

  “You look lovely, Lira.” Kamen kissed her brow. “Do you like my Ausir clothes, though?”

  Ajalira smiled and looked him up and down. His broad shoulders filled out the deep green tunic, and the fitted black breeches emphasized the curve of his buttocks. The colors, however, seemed almost gaudy after the simple elegance of the white-and-gold of the Sunjaa fashions. “I can divine your figure, my love, but I would rather see it.”

  “I feel exactly the same.”

  “But your hair is perfect.” Ajalira caressed Kamen's dreadlocks, which had six bones woven into them. “I wish I had the missing one.”

  Kamen laughed. “My savage little Lira, wanting more bones in my hair.” He held out his arm, and she linked hers through it. “Now to upset all the Ausir and then make it up with the Seranimesti.”

  Ajalira had expected that the sounds of festival would have been at least a little muted, for had not Kimereth just lost four kinsmen? But as the cheerful music of a traditional Ausir dance greeted her ears, she realized her folly. Kimereth would never acknowledge the loss of his kin, for that would be to admit to his crime of abduction and intended rape.

  When Kamen led her into the large chamber, a proper feasting hall with yet still room enough for dances, Ajalira heard the intake of a score of Ausir's breath. For her to wear openly the Tamari colors was, perhaps, expected, but for Kamen to wear them—she smiled as she saw both the Seranimesti and Kimereth lords approaching.