by John Marco
Not a man, thought Aric in horror. A monster.
The bridge had become a slaughterhouse. His father, the butcher. And suddenly Aric’s mission seemed the worst of folly. There could be no talking to his father now. His father was gone.
‘Fall back!’ he cried. ‘Retreat! Retreat, now!’
But the soldiers ignored him. Frustrated, Aric hurried his horse about and galloped back the way he’d come, toward King Raxor and the safety of the reserves. In his mind burned the image of his father on the bridge, and as he rode hot tears stung his eyes. He had seen war before, but this was different. This was hell itself.
He found Raxor where he’d left him, still huddled with advisors beneath his royal banner. The king looked up anxiously as Aric rode toward him. An air of defeat hung over them all. Aric brought his horse to a stop and flung himself off its back and strode quickly to Raxor. Wiping the tears from his face he dropped to his knees.
‘Retreat, my lord,’ he pleaded. ‘Retreat before it’s too late.’
Raxor lost his steely expression. His advisors gaped.
‘What of your father, boy?’ the king queried.
‘My father’s dead,’ Aric spat. ‘There’s a monster that calls himself my father and that’s all.’ He pointed toward the bridge. ‘Go and see for yourself!’
‘Get on your feet,’ Raxor told him. His face began to collapse. ‘Please. .’
Aric was nearly sobbing now. He rose unsteadily, never taking his eyes off the king.
‘My lord, please,’ he begged. ‘There’s no chance. My father is a horror. Let him have the bloody bridges! Give him the whole damn river. Just go!’
Raxor’s aides watched in silence, but their faces told the old king their feelings. The north bridge was already lost, and word from the south was little better. The truth slowly dawned on Raxor’s face.
‘My lord? Will you call retreat? For the sake of everything, will you?’
King Raxor looked vacantly at the horizon. His son had died today, and his closest friend, too. To Aric, he looked far older than he ever had before.
‘Give the order,’ he told his aides. ‘Baron Glass has won.’
31
Princess Salina had never been happier than during her days with Aztar. Despite the sun and dust, despite the chores she had been given to help in camp, she had found an oasis in the burning desert, a place not at all like her plush existence back in Ganjor. Each day she awoke to a simple meal, spending time tending to the animals or helping with the children. Though she could not cook the way other women could, Salina helped with the bread or stirred pots, learning things she had never learned at the knee of her royal mother. Then, when her chores were done, she would spend time with Aztar, and they would walk together through the outskirts of the camp. And sometimes, when the mood struck him, he would read love poems to her by moonlight.
As the days passed, Salina learned that the ‘Tiger of the Desert’ was more — and less — than the fierce warrior he portrayed. Surrounded by his loyal Voruni, he did not feed off their adoration in the way Salina had expected. Rather, he was contemplative and private, yet willing to let her into his little world to see the man behind the legend and his burned, ruined face. In his camp, Salina quickly forgot about her father and the life she had left behind, revelling in the simplicity of washing her own clothes and the brilliance of a sunset.
On the night of her tenth day in camp, Salina went to sleep dreaming of surprises, for Aztar had told her that a surprise awaited her the next morning. As always, she went to sleep in her bed next to Harani, the Voruni woman who had greeted her that first day in camp. It had not taken long for Salina and Harani to become friends, and Salina was grateful for all the young woman’s kindnesses. What little Salina had learned so far about cooking and mending clothes she had learned from Harani.
That night, Salina succumbed quickly to sleep, tired from her long day in the desert. When morning dawned, however, she was awake to greet it, bathing quickly from the rose water jug always ready near her bedside. She brushed her hair, put on one of Harani’s prettiest dresses, then shared a quick meal with the other women while she waited for Aztar’s surprise. The Voruni prince did not keep her waiting long. Once she had finished breaking her fast, Aztar appeared outside her tent, riding a strapping black drowa. He had dressed for the unknown occasion too, wearing a splendid white gaka with flowing scarlet leggings, cinched around his waist by a braided belt of gold. His face, which was not hidden behind his gaka, looked refreshed and coy as he smiled down at Salina.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.
Salina stepped away from Harani and the others. ‘I have.’
‘Good, because it is a long ride.’
‘To where?’
‘You shall see.’ He stretched down his hand for her. ‘Come.’
In their brief time together they had yet to ride on the same drowa. Salina felt a thrill at the prospect as she took his hand. With one powerful yank he pulled her up, helping her onto the drowa’s back. Quickly she wrapped her arms around his waist as she settled in behind him.
‘This is your surprise?’ she asked.
‘Yes. No more questions, now. Enjoy the ride.’
Curious, Salina waved good-bye to Harani and the other women as Aztar spun the beast around and headed out of camp. There were bags hanging from the drowa’s tack, which Salina supposed held food and other supplies. If they were going far they would need water, but she decided not to worry about that. Aztar would have everything covered, she was certain. So she tried to relax as the drowa loped forward, leaving behind the camp and heading south toward the distant mountains. Aztar said nothing to her as they rode, keeping up his coyness as the camp disappeared behind them and the dunes took over, obscuring the horizon in places with their undulating humps. Because it was still morning the sun was not yet hot, and the breeze felt cold as it caressed Salina’s face. She smiled, loving the mystery of being taken away, and placed her cheek against Aztar’s back.
They were in love. They had already confessed it to each other. Soon — be it a day from now or a month — her father would come looking for her, and though Salina dreaded that day it did nothing to lessen her love for the man who had rescued her. Aztar had risked everything to keep her safe. It was hard not to love a man like that.
‘Tell me where we are going,’ she said into his ear. Playfully she kissed him. ‘To have your way with me?’
‘Hush, girl.’ Aztar brushed aside her advance. ‘I do not have to carry you away for that.’
‘No,’ purred Salina, ‘you don’t.’
She put her hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat. She imagined it racing the way her own did when they spoke of such things. Aztar took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it.
‘You’ll see soon,’ he told her. ‘Be patient.’
Patience had never been a virtue of Salina’s, but she settled in as best she could and watched as the landscape began to change around them. They had gone from the hard earth of the camp to the soft, blowing sands of the desert, but now the world was changing again, becoming jagged and studded with stones. Salina looked over Aztar’s shoulder and saw a stand of hills in the distance covered with shrubbery, the kind of hearty plants that thrived in the dry desert. Beyond the shrubs were a few taller trees, and beneath the shade of these trees some flowers bloomed, bursting with colour against the desolation.
An oasis, thought Salina happily, like the one she had taken refuge in. And like that one in the north, this oasis must have had water. Salina could tell by the way the trees had grown in circles, taller at the centre of the oasis and thinning out along its outskirts. The place was small, yet lovely and welcoming, and seeing it made the princess smile. She glanced over her shoulder and realized that their camp was miles away, and that she and her lover were truly all alone.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said with a sigh.
‘It is,’ Aztar agreed. ‘It is a place I come to sometimes, to be alone
and think. But the oasis is not the surprise, Salina. There’s something else.’
‘What else?’
‘Wait,’ directed Aztar.
He slowed the drowa as they entered the oasis. Wide-eyed, Salina took in its beauty. The fronds of a tiny palm brushed her shoulder as they rode past. Salina reached out for it and grabbed a handful of its delicate leaves, letting them tumble like sand from her fingers. Beneath them, the ground was sugary-white. Trickles of water from a bubbling spring meandered through the glassy stones. Salina took a breath, filling her nose with the sweetness of flowers. The palms overhead knitted a canopy to shade them.
‘This is a special place,’ said Aztar. ‘There is something very rare here that I want to show you. It should be the time.’
He had piqued Salina’s interest now. She urged him to stop the drowa so they could get down. He did so, then followed her down off the back of the beast, dropping into the soft sand. Salina put out her hands and felt the glorious breeze on her face and the sunlight dappling through the palms. The gentle music of the spring plied through the oasis. She knelt and took up a handful of the water snaking between her feet, tasting it.
‘Sweet,’ she said with a smile. ‘It’s so clear!’
‘Like a diamond it sparkles,’ said Aztar, squatting beside her. He too tasted the water, cupping up a man-sized handful. When he was done he ran his wet hands through his dark hair. To Salina he looked fabulous, just as striking as their surroundings. She never saw his burns when she looked at him, only his eyes, which were always filled with love. She nudged him with her elbow.
‘So? What is this surprise, then? Not the oasis.’
‘No, not the oasis.’ Aztar glanced to his left where a hill rose up to border the greenery. ‘Over there,’ he said, and took her hand.
Salina let him guide her deeper into the oasis, and when they reached the hill they rounded it, stepping out into a tiny meadow of grass and flowers. Thorn stuck her legs as they entered the grass. She cried out in protest, but Aztar urged her on.
‘No, come with me,’ he told her gently. ‘It’s not far.’
‘What are we looking for?’
He took her a few more steps into the grass, then paused. With a great smile on his face he said, ‘That.’
Salina followed his finger to what looked like a rose bush sprouting out of the hillside. It stood alone, defiantly breaking through the rock, full of thorns and twisted shoots. Its leaves were tear-shaped and spiky, a waxy, deep green that sparkled in the sunlight. Its roots pulled out of the earth in spots, holding fast to the difficult ground. There were no buds along its limbs, nothing at all to make it remarkable.
Except for its single, fabulous flower.
Proudly bursting from its crown sat a perfectly formed bloom with bright, multi-coloured petals and two fuzzy stamen that seemed to move with life in the breeze. Mostly orange, the flower sported reds and yellows as well, blushing its petals like gentle brushstrokes. Big as a hand, the flower somehow balanced on the delicate limb, held up like a prize by the bush. Salina stopped breathing when she saw it.
‘That’s it,’ Aztar whispered. ‘That’s why I brought you here.’
Salina took a step toward it, forgetting the thorns that clawed at her legs. ‘I’ve never seen such a thing! What is it, Aztar? A rose?’
‘We call it a rainbow kiss,’ said Aztar. ‘It’s a Voruni flower. I don’t think it grows anywhere but this part of the desert.’
He was still whispering, as if to talk too loud would somehow damage the fragile bloom. Salina stopped edging toward it, but could not pull her eyes away.
‘A rainbow kiss.’ She smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘It’s more special than you think, Salina. A rainbow kiss only blooms once every five years, and only then for a day or so.’
She looked at him askance. ‘Then how did you know. .’
‘Because this is my desert,’ said Aztar with a grin. ‘Or it was, once. I come here to think, remember. I have come to this spot for years. And I have waited for it to bloom again. Yesterday I came here and saw it starting to come out. Today I brought you here to see it.’
Just a small kindness, but to Salina it was a great gift indeed. She melted at the sight of the flower.
‘Once every five years. Remarkable.’
‘You see how beautiful the desert is, Salina?’ Aztar gave a look of utter satisfaction. ‘This is all I ever wanted. It’s all a man could ever need.’ Then he took her hand. ‘That and a woman.’
She looked away, surprised to feel herself blushing. ‘It can’t always be like this, Aztar. There is a real world outside the desert. Soon it will come for us.’
‘Perhaps,’ Aztar replied. ‘But not today.’
He let go of her hand and picked his way toward the magnificent flower, and when he reached it he hovered over it for a moment, sticking his nose into the bloom and grinning at its scent. Then, to Salina’s horror, he cupped the flower in his hand and pulled it loose of its stem.
‘No!’ Salina shrieked. ‘Aztar, why’d you do that?’
He held the bloom carefully in his hand as he returned to her. ‘Because it only lasts a day. Because nothing lasts, Salina, and while it’s still alive I want you to have it.’
‘But you’ve killed it!’
‘No, it will not die until tomorrow. Even if it were on its stem it would still die tomorrow. So until then, it is for you to enjoy.’
His logic was maddening, yet she took the flower when he handed it to her, gently cradling it with both hands. Its breathtaking scent climbed up her nose, something like the orchids her father grew back home but a hundred times more pungent.
‘It’s like perfume!’ She sniffed again. ‘Expensive perfume.’
‘Priceless,’ Aztar said. ‘And only a handful of people know where to find them.’
Salina smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Aztar.’
He took her hand again. ‘Come. Let’s sit by the water.’
Happy to be free of the thorns, Salina hopped her way out of the prickly grass and followed Aztar back around the hillside, still cradling the flower in her palm. He guided her toward the spring bubbling up from the earth, spreading its clear water like fingers in all directions. Near the spring was a patch of flattened grass, obviously pushed down by Aztar’s many trips to the oasis. They sat upon the grass, cooled by the shade of a nearby palm and calmed by the sound of the spring. Aztar leaned back, inviting Salina to lay next to him. Salina took the invitation but placed her head on his chest instead. Both of them stared up into the blue sky.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Salina let her mind trip through happy memories, enchanted by the days she had spent with Aztar. Like the rainbow kiss, their love had bloomed. She was not a princess anymore. With Aztar and his people, she was just a woman, young and plain, ready to get her hands dirty tending sheep or cooking meals. It was idyllic, the world that Aztar had created, far from the turmoil of city life or the thousand pressures of being a king’s daughter.
‘I’m right, you know,’ she said finally. ‘It can’t last. They’ll come for me.’
Aztar took his time responding. He continued looking up into the sky. At last he nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And all this will end.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
He hesitated. ‘I won’t let it.’
‘Even you can’t defeat my father, Aztar.’
‘Can I not? If there were an army, I would defeat them for you, Salina.’
Salina laughed. ‘You would try, my love.’
‘All right, yes. I would try. Speak no more of it. Not today.’
But there were things on Salina’s mind that would not go away. She said softly, ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The peace of the desert.’
‘Mmm, yes,’ Aztar sighed. ‘Glorious. The desert is full of magic.’
‘We can have peace. We can go somewhere where my father will never find us. What do you think of that
, Aztar?’
She felt him shake his head.
‘We cannot.’
‘No? Why not?’
‘Because we are not alone, Salina. Because I am not alone. I’m not free to leave. My people need me.’
‘But surely they would understand. .’
‘No, Salina. Maybe it is you who doesn’t understand.’ Aztar began to stroke her hair. ‘These people who follow me — they aren’t just friends. They’re even more than family. They came to me because they believed in the same things I did — a free desert, unpolluted by northerners or politics. They could have left me when I led them to defeat at Jador, but they did not. They don’t have anywhere else to go, and I would never leave them. Never. Do you see?’
‘Yes,’ said Salina, though it pained her to admit it. ‘I do see.
‘I don’t want power, Salina. I did once, but no more. And I don’t pretend that the desert is mine anymore. Vala has taught me all about folly! Now I know what is important. You’re important. And my people are important.’
Salina closed her eyes. His words were beautiful to her.
‘Salina? Tell me what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m thinking that the sky is very blue today, Aztar.’ Salina took a breath, concealing her emotions. ‘I’m thinking that it doesn’t matter what happens. Today is perfect.’
*
Salina and Aztar spent the rest of the day at the oasis, finally leaving in the late afternoon. It was a race to return to camp before the sun went down. Her belly full from the food and wine Aztar had packed for them, Salina settled onto the drowa, this time sitting in front of Aztar and resting her head against his chest. They spoke very little on the ride back, for there seemed little to say. Salina felt marvelously contented and didn’t want to spoil her mood with words.