《Starlight Over Oran Book One - Starlex》


 The Queens Bedchamber

    1. From the Illymium Codex


    Corellas Davadas stood above the dying king, Shyzarr Nazeer. Corellas¡¯ dark, battle-scarred skin glistened in the flickering firelight fanning out from the enormous hearth of the imperial bedchamber. Facedown on the marble floor beside her husband, Queen Natal Nazeer, of the pale skin and rich, fire-colored hair, wept bitterly, knowing she would be the next to feel the thrust of the warrior slave¡¯s steel. But Corellas looked down on her with pity, and his coarse features softened.


    Then, extending his hand soaked in her husband¡¯s blood, he said, ¡°My Queen, it was your beauty that kept me laboring each day in the pit to build your grand palace. While other mens¡¯ backs broke beneath the slaver¡¯s whip, mine strengthened. Each time I stole or killed to advance my cause, your image, like a precious jewel shining through the gloom of night, fortified my resolve. Your slave is now your master, charming lady, and I will be your master and your slave if you will be my wife.¡±


    The queen, looking up at Corellas, quickly dried her tears and slipped her slim white hand into his thick, dark calloused one without hesitation. That night, while stumps of candles flickered around the dead king, the last of the Nazeer royal line, the queen secreted her new lover to her private chamber, and together, they made a child, the first of the great Davadas people. And for the next Zar, Ardelym flourished and prospered under Davadas rule.


    Chapter One: The Queen''s Bedchamber


    Scipio Davadas rolled off his queen with a groan and climbed out of bed. He would love to remain in Hyperia''s arms the entire afternoon, revel in the pleasure of her soft, iridescent flesh, to breathe in her unique scent. But it wasn''t easy to relax with the festivities starting today. For the people of Ardelym, the new Zar Festival was a time of celebration. For the King of Oran?the greatest city-state in all of Ardelym?it was a time of tension and risk and of proving he was still worthy of leadership to his people.


    Hyperia brushed aside her curtain of black hair and rested her cheek against the silk pillowcase. She watched with satisfaction as her husband crossed her bedchamber. His tall, muscular form silhouetted the hazy, pink light of late afternoon streaming through the balcony door. With pleasure, she noted how his body hadn''t lost any of its strength in twenty years of marriage. Daily rides through Oran''s vast farmland kept him fit. In Hyperia''s eyes, he was still the warrior she fell in love with when he liberated her home city, Mynimium, during the Nazeer uprising, and was awarded, for his valor, the Illymium princess with the strange, lavender eyes and pale flesh that shimmered in certain light. The only quality that had changed about her husband was his face. The lines around his mouth had deepened, and a darkness rested in his eyes that none of her feminine soothing could erase.


    As she closed her eyes and breathed in the fragrant candles she had shipped from Mynimium each moon, she could almost see the clove trees dotting the cinnabar-studded cliffs of her homeland. The carpets of pink desert sand stretched beyond the city walls in her imagination and she could almost hear the bell ringing in the tower to mark the daily prayer to Illym.


    Scipio had promised her they would visit her home city soon, when the Zar Festival was over and everything had settled. But there was so much to do before then.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She opened her eyes and sighed with disappointment when she saw that Scipio had slipped on an ornately embroidered robe, depriving her of a view of his strong, battle-scarred back and tattoos marking each victory on his dark Davadas skin, his round buttocks and muscular legs.


    He slipped through the fluttering drapes and stepped barefoot outside onto the marble balcony to watch the ships and caravans arriving from the Four Corners.


    He''s thinking about the speech he will deliver on opening day of the festival.


    Hyperia pulled her legs up to her chest and squeezed her thighs together, trapping her husband''s seed.


    Through an extensive analysis of the Heavens, the ancient mage, Flenn Illyminum, had told her this was the optimal day in her moon calendar. Not only that, the Zar was the most sacred time in Ardelym history.


    What better time for me to conceive Scipio''s son.


    Even after twenty years, the Oran people were still not happy with Scipio''s choice of mate?the Illymiums were a dying breed belonging to the past. But a male heir would change that perception.


    With great difficulty, Hyperia had managed to produce their daughter, Tylla. But the eighteen-year-old princess was headstrong; she had failed to win over the hearts of the people by marrying young and strengthening the Davadas rule. The royal couple hoped to make her a match during the Zar. That might help them politically, but what they really needed was a male heir.


    Scipio never voiced his disappointment when month after month, year after year, Hyperia remained barren. At thirty-eight, she was as the peak of her sensuality, but secretly she wondered if her husband ever thought of taking another wife, a younger woman, of his own fertile Davadas blood, not one from the star-kissed Illymiums, children of a dying star.


    Don''t think like that! She embraced her naked belly beneath the silk sheets, willing the conception to take place. This time it will work!


    Scipio emitted a weary sigh and pressed his eye to the spyglass that sat atop a carved bronze tripod and panned it over the northern citadel wall toward the Crimson Sea, a clear carpet of lapis with red-tinged mist clinging to the rocky shore. His jaw tightened when he spotted a small fleet traveling at a fast clip twenty leagues past the shimmering Quartz Island. From the mast of the boat at the fleet¡¯s point flew a faded and battered flag, its sigil depicting an ax splitting an icy mountain peak. The Skaards!


    He expected the Skaards to send someone to represent their people, a toothless elder perhaps or a group of women with one or two men in attendance. But here were three ships carrying fifty men each in warrior garb and fully armed.


    They want something from me, coming all this way, leaving their families vulnerable when they are at war with the Nazeer renegades. But what could it be?


    Scipio swung the spyglass away from the Skaard''s ships to where Pendulum Road snaked along the jagged coast. Already he could see the Nazeers, their sigil depicting the dragon, Quetzex, circling the Great Vulcan volcano, flying proudly over ostentatious wagons draped with colorful tapestries. A small army of horse-drawn chariots studded with bright metals from their rich southern mines led the caravan. Behind them marched fifty soldiers with axes and gladii blazing in the hot afternoon sun. Scipio had no doubt old Duke Nargos himself would be among them. His thoughts flew darkly to the past, when Nazeera, the mining city located deep beyond the Crytombe Crags in the shadow of the Great Vulcan, had dared to lay siege on Mynimium. Scipio had won that battle, and although Nargos had surrendered, the king always regretted sparing his life.


    The Nazeers have wealth, but their tempers are as combustible as their smelting pots and their hearts as black as the pitch left behind.


    Scipio lowered the spyglass and called back irritably to his wife, "They''re nearly here. It''s time to make yourself ready."


    "Just a moment," Hyperia sighed.


    Please, she prayed silently to Illym, raking her nails over her belly. Let me conceive a son today.

 The Crimson Sea

    The resplendent Quartz Island, an hour''s sail from the harbor, was the private playground of Oran''s grown royal children. Shielded from duty and the expectations of their elders, here they were free to splash naked in the warm lagoon and make love on pink beaches and in shady coves with partners forbidden within Oran''s walls.


    Breathing in lungfuls of salty air, Starlex Illymium climbed the island''s highest rock. The pink promontory jutting into the azure sky had been used as a lookout tower in times of strife. But Oran had been peaceful for many moons under Davadas rule.


    Starlex''s cousin, Rigel Illymium, and Princess Tylla cavorted in the cove below with their respective lovers. But their joyous laughter rankled her, reminding her that she was again the wobbly fifth wheel on the pleasure cart. Distracting herself from the keen sting of loneliness she often felt during these afternoon outings, Starlex stretched belly-down on the slanted slab, baked warm in the sun, and adjusted the ring on her spyglass. From her vantage point, she swept the scope over the choppy blue water to the coastline, where the red coral reefs from which the sea derived its name shimmered beneath the surface.


    "Don''t drop it," Rigel called up to her.


    She fumbled with the spyglass for a moment before regaining her grip with a sigh of relief. To lose her prized possession to the maw of the sea would be a calamity.An ancient artifact from the Mynimium treasury, the instrument was capable of bringing into sharp focus myriad stars invisible to the naked eye. Passed down from generations, it bore the worn Illymium crest, the star of Illym encrusted with diamonds and sapphires.


    Rigel laughed as he clambered up the rock behind her, loosening a shower of pebbles with his bare feet. When he reached his cousin, he gripped her delicate ankles in a way that both teased and supported her. "Now don''t you fall," he said.


    She lifted a chunk of her long white hair, flipped it over one shoulder, and gazed back at him. Her violet eyes sparkled with gratitude. Rigel, who like Starlex was orphaned during the Mynimium Siege, was someone on whom she could always rely.


    From the rock plateau below, Princess Tylla propped her hands on her slender hips and called up, "See anything, Star-ass?"


    Starlex bit down on the retort forming on her tongue. Although she and Tylla were close as sisters, to talk back to her niece was forbidden, even here at their idyllic retreat.


    Tylla inherited great beauty from her royal parents, as well as intelligence and wit, but her stubborn nature was her own. Standing close to Tylla as if she were her social equal was Carmelle Nazeer. Within the palace walls, red-haired Carmelle was a servant, but here away from the court''s prying eyes, she was Tylla''s lover.


    Carmelle leaned over to whisper conspiringly in Tylla''s ear.


    Something rude about me? Starlex wondered.


    Whatever Tylla said in response caused Carmelle to erupt in a fit of laughter and cannonball into the sea. Tylla dove in after her, and they surfaced in each other''s arms. Tylla''s brown skin contrasted with Carmelle''s pale, freckled complexion common to the Nazeer people. Seeing their naked chests pressed together, the way they filled each other''s gaps to form one, made Starlex''s heart pound with longing as fathoms-deep as the surrounding sea.


    Irked, she brought her attention back to the spyglass, aiming it across the widest part of the sea to the distant Kadaar Mountains. Beyond the jagged ice castles lay a vast land inhabited by wild animals, a few mythical beasts that may or may not exist, and the Skaards, a hardy people eking out an existence beneath no other yoke but nature''s.


    She gasped when she spotted three warships knifing through the water. The small fleet, traveling half a league north from the island, was headed straight for Oran harbor. From the mast of the first ship fluttered a flag she had only seen in the picture books in the tower library.


    "It''s the Skaards!" she shouted to her friends below. "I see only men on board, warriors from the looks of them."This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "Are they handsome?" called up a sunny voice. Jabe, the freckled Nazeer scholar, spent less time with his books and more time being idle with young Rigel.


    "What do you care if they are?" Rigel let go of Starlex''s feet, shuffled down the craggy rock face, and leaped from the lowest boulder to tackle his friend. They scuffled playfully to the plateau''s edge and then disappeared over the side with a splash.


    Starlex again felt her loneliness rise like a dark tide. Being the queen''s sister afforded her some status, but Illymiums were artifacts as ancient as the spyglass she held in her hand, a page moldering in the tomes of the tower library. If any man in Oran''s court wanted to marry her, he was either too scared to approach the queen''s sister or too repulsed by her pale iridescent skin, slightly pointed ears, and white hair. And now, at twenty-two, it seemed her chance for love and marriage was setting like the sun over Kadaar.


    With her friends'' laughter fading in her ears, Starlex cleaned the salty fog forming on the spyglass¡¯ lens with the hem of her fluted gown of sapphire silk and returned it to her eye. Turning the ring forged with Illymium magic, she focused on the man standing at the helm of the leading ship.


    He looks just like the statue of the warrior in the palace garden, she thought dreamily.


    She recalled how when she was a small child, she would speak to the marble figure, curtsying when she imagined him stepping down from the plinth to ask her to dance.


    The man onboard the Skaard had golden hair peeking out of his dented bronze helmet. Beneath a fluttering fur caplet, his muscular arms were raked with scars, including a freshly dressed wound seeping blood through a coarse bandage. If he felt any pain from his recent injury, she could not discern it from his eyes. They were as blue as ice and appeared just as cold. The longer Starlex stared at him, the more it seemed he was gazing back at her.


    A golden flare showered across the darkening sky, shattering her reverie. She lowered the spyglass and swept her eyes up to the sparks fading in the sky. It was a message from the Tower of Oran. Flenn Illymium was calling the royal children back home.


    With one last glance at the advancing fleet of Skaard warships, Starlex fastened her spyglass to her leather belt, and she climbed down the rocky promontory to the plateau below.


    She laughed upon seeing Rigel lying naked on the rock, arms cradling the back of his head, his placid face absorbing the last of the afternoon sunshine.


    "And this is how you will present yourself at court tonight?" Starlex asked.


    He squinted up at her as her shadow crossed him. "The sea swallowed my britches."


    "So you say."


    "Don''t worry, dear cousin. I brought clean clothes with me."


    "Illymiums always plan ahead?"


    "Jabe was the one who thought ahead." Rigel hopped to his feet and stretched out his slender but muscular limbs. "Nazeers are good for that kind of thing. Practical."


    "And what are Illymiums good for?" she asked, a part of her aching to truly know.


    "Illymiums are good for one thing only: dreaming," Rigel replied wistfully, "but I needn''t tell you that."


    Jabe pussyfooted behind Rigel and pounced on him. "You''re good for a few other things, as well," he said, laughing.


    Rigel started to retaliate with one of his wrestling moves when Tylla appeared, shielding her modesty with her dripping wet gown.


    "We need to get back," she said, her expression clouded with worry.


    Carmelle was already loading up the skiff.


    "Ah, can''t we stay here forever?" Jabe said, his pale, freckly arms circling Rigel''s neck.


    "That''s the plan," Rigel said, turning to plant a kiss on Jabe''s damp cheek.


    "I didn''t know there was a plan," Starlex said, stepping down the sharp rock steps to where her skiff was moored.


    "Didn''t we tell you?" Rigel trailed behind with Jabe. "Tylla and I are going to get married."


    Tylla turned to dart a wry look at him.


    "Just for show, darling. Why should Mynimium return to dust when it could be turned into our private pleasure palace?" He sighed. "Just like here."


    Mynimium formed like a desert mirage in Starlex''s imagination as she continued down the path. What little memory she had of her home city had been sketched in by the books in Flenn Illymium''s tower library with its etchings of hanging gardens, carved jade porticoes, and rushing waterfalls.


    "Can Starlex come, too?" Jabe asked as if reading her mind.


    From the bobbing skiff, Carmelle called, "I thought Starlex was joining the Wols?"


    Starlex laughed along with others, trying not to show that Carmelle had voiced her greatest fear. The Wol women guarded the sacred God Gate within a barren wasteland known as the Weir. Chosen, usually without their consent, from each of the Four Corners, the ascetic Wols lived lives of poverty and hard labor. They were forbidden to marry or bear children. Starlex knew the Wols, along with other representatives of the Four Corners, would be making a rare pilgrimage to Oran to attend the Zar festival. In her nightmares, she imagined these mice-like women reaching out from behind their gray cloaks to pull her into their dark sisterhood.


    Tylla lifted a fresh gown from the skiff and shimmied into it. Carmelle, resuming her role as lady''s maid, fastened the silver buttons in the back.


    "Hurry up, everyone," Tylla snapped. "Mother will be angry if I¡¯m not there to greet the guests."


    Nodding, Starlex stepped into the skiff and hoisted the sail.

 The Tower of Oran

    2. From the Illymium Codex


    In the beginning, there was Illym, a star in the distant Or galaxy. The all-knowing and ever-present Illym created Ardelym with its rich fertile lands and filled it with beings. First, the Thrades, who were more beast than man with their thick hides and crude manners. But Illym was unhappy with their inharmonious natures, and in anger, he banished them to live beyond the forest of Kadaar, where they were free to live off other beasts and wage war amongst themselves.


    Having learned from his mistake, Illym then created the gentler Illymiums inspired by his own image. The Illymiums were a race of prescient beings mated with Zephyrea (the Blue Planet) humanoids who stumbled through the God Gate, but they proved to have too delicate of a constitution for survival. As men from the Blue Planet entered through the God Gate every Zar, the original Illymium race was conquered and all but destroyed by the hardier humans. And from their ranks, the Nazeers, the children of the desert, and the Skaards, the children of the ice, were born. But it was the last man to enter through the God Gate, the great warrior Corellas Davadas whose rich human blood was nourished on the abundant Blue Planet, who perfected the race of man on Ardelym, showing both strength and fairness. His line has ruled ever since.


    Chapter Three: The Tower of Oran


    By the time they had returned to the inner canal where Starlex harbored her skiff, Oran''s front gate was crammed with guests arriving from the Four Corners, mostly high-ranking leaders and their families. The citizens of Oran from the inner city and neighboring farms came out in droves to watch the procession.


    "Heavens, the Nazeers are the first to arrive," Rigel said, helping the ladies from the skiff.


    "How do you know?" Jabe asked, a flicker of fear passing across his pale face. He had bid good riddance to the red dust and smoke of Nazeera two years ago and had no desire to return or even commune with the rough and uncouth Nazeers he had happily left behind.


    Rigel grimaced. "I can smell them."


    Tylla chuckled at Rigel''s quip, but Jabe''s face dropped as did Carmelle''s. As Nazeers, they would both be expected to fraternize with their own people during the Zar festival, but neither wanted to. They were happy to live in Oran and to think of themselves as Davadas, like their friends.


    Rigel paused along the damp stone walkway to quietly reassure Jabe. "I didn''t smell them. I hear them, silly. Listen."


    Over the sounds of water dripping from the ceiling of the inner canal and the sea lapping the stone walls was the sound of soldiers'' feet moving in unison to a low drumbeat.


    Jabe smiled, but a shadow of worry lingered.


    "Let''s go!" Tylla shot ahead on silver sandals, her coral gown flying. Carmelle trailed behind, carrying their satchels. They entered a stone stairway and series of small tunnels and silently followed the well-trodden passageways back through the thick palace walls, returning to their private roles within the ordered world of Oran.


    Starlex was happy to say goodbye to her friends, happy to be alone with her thoughts. Unlike the others, she was excited about the Zar celebration. It was a change of pace from her daily existence as an Oran princess with little rank and fewer responsibilities. She could sympathize with Tylla''s anxiety, though. The Zar festival represented something much more pressure-filled for the king''s daughter. Starlex guessed that a mate had already been chosen for her. It would no doubt be announced sometime during the Zar festival.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And what would happen to Tylla''s love affair with Carmelle then? The Heavens will sort that out.


    Starlex slid open the gate of the pulley car that would fly her to the top of Oran tower, the highest peak in all Ardelym and the home of Flenn Illymiuym, the oldest being in existence. As the pulley car made its slow ascent, first through the bowels of the palace, then to the outside of the tower, Starlex took in the view that never failed to take her breath away. She could see the faint blue line of Kadaar''s mountain peaks across the Crimson Sea, the Skaard fleet making swift progress toward the harbor, and the caravans of new arrivals crowding Oran''s front gate. Far, far in the distance, beyond Crytombe Crags, lay Mynimium. She couldn''t see her home city from even the highest peak in all of Ardelym, but it didn''t stop her from trying to every time she rode the car.


    "Ah, there you are," Flenn Illymium said, turning from his spyglass. Standing seven-foot-tall and slightly stooped in his iridescent robes, Flenn was the one and only Illymatar, an advanced prescient being within a living form. The spirit residing within the reedy, lavender-skinned being with white hair trailing to the floor had lived four Zar and was near their full transformation to divine omniscience.


    Flenn smiled at Starlex and continued, "I watched you and your friends through my glass."


    "Did you?" Starlex picked up a ripe pear from Flenn''s table and bit down. The flavors of Oran''s fertile fields exploded in her mouth. "I thought you''d be watching everyone arrive."


    "I did that as well."


    Starlex caught a drop of sweet nectar dripping down her chin and sucked it off her finger. "I saw the Skaards arrive."


    Flenn sighed and folded his limbs as they sat in a gilt chair carved with Oran¡¯s crest: Oran Tower surrounded by bolts of lightning, depicting Ardelym''s connection with the great god, Illym. "Indeed. I was surprised to see they brought so many when there is a war going on?"


    "War? Do you mean with the Nazeer renegades?"


    Flenn smiled wanly. "Yes, but they are nothing compared to the threat the Thrades pose. You remember we studied them in your lessons." Flenn pointed a long slim finger at the Illymium Codex, an ancient tome with a cracked leather binding with tarnished scrolled corners and hinges. It sat, as it always had, in a place of honor atop a marble column.


    Starlex walked over to the book. It was open to an illustration of a Thrade warrior. She had gazed at the picture many times, and it always filled her veins with ice-cold fear.


    The Thrades were the oldest beings of Ardelym. They existed from before Flenn''s first life or Mynimium''s first marble brick was laid. Beast-like and each stronger than ten men, the rock-hued Thrades had spindly scales instead of flesh, forming a coat of natural armor that only the strongest sword could penetrate. From broad shoulders hung two long arms, nearly touching the ground, with ten fingers on each hand bearing knife-like claws. Their small heads with red, glaring eyes that peered out from silver helmets made of spines frightened Starlex the most.


    The Skaards, having the misfortune of being the Thrades closest neighbors, were given the unenviable role as the first line of defense against them. According to Illym''s four-Zar dictate, the Thrades were supposed to be confined beyond the Kadaar Forest, but they were undisciplined and rebellious. Ardelym was, after all, theirs first.


    Starlex was distracted from the book when Raki, Flenn''s prized Lila bird, came flapping loudly onto the balcony, landing on the marble parapet.


    "Ah, there''s my beauty!" The nest of fine wrinkles in Flenn''s cheeks shifted upward. "What wonders have you seen today?"


    Raki, the size of a large eagle, flapped her purple wings and issued a series of rapid-fire caws.


    The lines of Flenn''s face turned down as they took in the bird''s message.


    "Something wrong?" Starlex asked, a flutter of nerves rising in her throat.


    "Raki informs me the Skaards are hard hit. No doubt they brought half their army here for a reason."


    "What''s the reason?"


    Purple dots rose in Flenn''s cheeks, then faded. "I''m not certain, as yet." Flenn shook away the thought. "I suppose we''ll all know soon enough. You better get ready for the celebratory dinner."


    Starlex nodded. She performed the customary bow, or reverence to the Illyminium seer, and left Flenn''s chambers. As the pulley car made its descent from the tower, stars were already winking on the horizon, and the Skaard fleet was just entering the harbor. She wondered if she would get to meet the warrior with blond hair and eyes like blue ice.

 Mothers and Daughters

    3. From the Illymium Codex


    The two moons of Ardelym, La Gune, the mother moon, and her tiny daughter, Jeune, half-hidden behind her, rule the night sky. They witness the shadowed thoughts of the Ardelymians and coldly observe secret deeds performed only under the cover of night.


    Chapter Four - Mothers and Daughters


    Tylla blew a kiss. Carmelle caught it in her hand, and with a wistful gaze at her secret lover, sheslipped into the narrow hall to resume her work in the servants'' wing.


    With quick, light steps, Tylla climbed the marble staircase to her room within the royal palace. She opened the door on her bedchamber, which faced the central garden. She''d rather have a view of the sea, but this chamber located deep within the palace''s inner structure kept the princess guarded on all sides.


    The royal family''s main serving woman, Moranna Nazeer, was already there, laying out Tylla''s clothes for the evening''s festivities. The stout, middle-aged woman curtsied as Tylla entered, but the princess discerned disapproval in the tight line of her mouth and her tired blue eyes.


    She knows about Carmelle and me.


    Tylla held back her thick braid of black hair to allow Moranna to undo the buttons of her gown. She''s known about it from the beginning.


    The silk dress fluttered to the floor, and Tylla stepped out of it, nude.


    Moranna scooped it up and said, "Your bath is ready, milady."


    "Thank you. That is all," Tylla said and crossed to the bathing room where a steaming tub awaited her. Tylla dipped her toes in first to check the temperature, then slid her slender body into the warm water perfumed with Mynimium''s finest essences.


    "Ah," she mewed, enjoying the short respite from duty.


    She picked up a sponge and ran it sensuously across her dark skin. Eyes closed, she imagined it was Carmelle¡¯s fingers gently massaging her flesh, exploring the sensitive points in her young body that would make her explode with euphoria and forget for a moment the bars of her luxurious cage.


    * * *


    Moranna placed the soiled gown under her arm, bowed, and left the room, closing the solid mahogany door behind her. She moved as quickly as her plump, middle-aged legs would take her through the main hallway. A high painted ceiling, supported by a marble colonnade, depicted the history of Davadas rule, beginning with Corellas Davadas slaying the Nazeer King and taking his faithless queen to his bed. Moranna, who had passed that same ceiling over twenty years of service within the king¡¯s palace, knew that beneath that layer of paint was an ancient, jeweled mosaic depicting the former grandeur ofNazeer rule. Many times throughout the day, she wanted to peel off the paint with her nails and exclaim, ¡°See here! We Nazeers are Ardelym¡¯s rightful rulers! And someday, it will be ours once again.¡±


    When she reached the lower-ceilinged hallway, dimly lit by burning fire pots, she veered off, lifted her heavy skirt, and wearily climbed the stairs to her chamber in the servants'' wing. Panting hard as she opened the door, she found her daughter posing in her festival gown before the only glass in the room. The gilt-framed oval had been a gift from Hyperia. It was small and lacking in ornamentation to reinforce a servant''s modesty and station.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "What are you doing, Carmelle?" Moranna snapped, out of breath.


    "Getting ready for the festival. What''s it look like?" The bratty tone slipped through Carmelle¡¯s lips before she could stop it.


    Moranna moved quickly for her size, grabbing Carmelle by the shoulder with one strong hand and landing a solid slap on her daughter''s face with the other. "Who are you to put on airs?"


    Carmelle was at once a frightened child cowering at her mother''s feet. "Please," she begged, her trembling hands raised to ward off more blows.


    "You think sharing the princess'' bed makes you special?"


    Carmelle could only weep as her mother''s nails dug into her flesh.


    "Not even a bed, but rubbing on each other outdoors like two beasts! Do you think I don''t know what you do? How she uses you for her pleasure only to discard you when she marries."


    "Mother, it''s not like that," Carmelle whimpered.


    Moranna brought her fist up again to strike but thought better of it and released her daughter. Moaning in pain, Carmelle curled into a deflated ball of hurt and wept into the rough, hemp carpet.


    Moranna stepped away to calm herself and uncurled her clenched fingers. "This thing," she emphasized the word with disgust, "between you and the princess ends today. You will clean yourself up, make yourself presentable, but never forget you are a servant in this household. I will not have you shame yourself before our people. The Nazeers are superior to these Davadas in every way."


    Carmelle panted, "You''d be killed if anyone heard you say that, Mother."


    "And who will tell them? You?" Laughing bitterly, Moranna picked up Tylla''s gown that she had dropped and tossed it on top of her weeping daughter. "Your princess soiled her gown. Wash it like a good slave and keep your mouth shut."


    Carmelle grasped the silk dress to her chest and breathed out a shuddered breath. "We''re not slaves, Mother."


    With an exhausted, unsteadied gait, Moranna crossed the room toward her bedchamber. "Tell that to Nargos Nazeer. He and his men have already arrived. You will see them all tonight. They are your people. Hopefully,¡± she gazed at her daughter with disgust, ¡°one of them will choose you for a wife."


    "No!" Carmelle moaned.


    "If not," Moranna added with grim finality, "I''ll hand you over to the Wols."


    * * *


    When the bathwater had cooled, Tylla stepped out of the deep marble tub. She was surprised and disappointed to find Queen Hyperia holding open her robe for her and not Carmelle.


    "Thank you, Mother," Tylla said, submitting to Hyperia rubbing the moisture from her damp flesh.


    "Where is ?"


    "Carmelle is needed to prepare the hall for the festival."


    Tylla nodded with a practiced subterfuge. She wondered if the queen knew about her and Carmelle. If so, she didn¡¯t let on.


    Hyperia smiled, her violet eyes sparkling, brushing back the thick black hair from Tylla''s shoulders. "I am so proud of you, my beauty. When you are presented to the people from the Four Corners tonight, I want you to shine. Here." She opened a gilded wood box that she had laid on the bed and pulled out a glittering silver belt.


    Tylla gasped.


    "I had hoped you''d be pleased,¡± Hyperia said. ¡°This is from the Illymium treasury, one of the few things I was able to save from our homeland."


    The belt caught the light from the flaming sconces and shimmered like a prism.


    "It''s incredible," Tylla said. "But shouldn''t it go to Starlex? She is, after all, the Illymium Princess, next to you, of course."


    Hyperia''s face twitched and hardened. "I gave up that title when I married your father. I am Davadas now. But you are half Illymium, my darling, and are entitled to as much, if not more, from our ancient home."


    Tylla nodded and smiled sweetly. She did not tell her mother that she found the belt ostentatious, silly even. She kept those thoughts to herself as she succumbed to Hyperia''s pampering, stiffening only slightly when Hyperia had slipped the gown over her head and brought up the inevitable subject of her future husband.


    "Mother, must we speak of that now with all the excitement going on?"


    Hyperia nodded and said, "Your father and I are still undecided. Perhaps Illym will give us a sign before the festival is over."


    Sighing, Hyperia walked out to the balcony. The sun was a line of red fire on the horizon, and the two moons had taken their place in the indigo sky. The smaller moon kept her blue face hidden shyly behind the large mother moon, so large and bright the distant Kadaar mountaintops shimmered in its glow.


    Hyperia allowed the warm night breeze to trickle over her body, picking up the hem of her gown and fanning it around her bare legs. Pressing her palms over her belly, she closed her eyes and whispered only to herself, "Illym will show us the way."

 Illym

    Elite representatives of the Four Corners, roughly one-hundred in all, attended the banquet in the great hall. Stars blinked down from the black velvet sky through the rotunda''s open ceiling. To visually reinforce his rank, Scipio sat on a dais slightly above the other royal family members.


    The other visiting Nazeers, Skaards, and Wols who made the long journey to Oran remained in the lower courtyards, feasting on platters of freshly cooked meats and fish, steaming seasoned rice, and many jugs of wine from Oran''s abundant vineyards.


    When the feast was concluded, Scipio rose and climbed down from the dais, moving to the center of the great hall with his gold robe, embroidered with the Oran crest, trailing behind him on the marble floor. At forty-five, he appeared as handsome and powerful as he had twenty years before when he led the charge against the Nazeer''s siege of Mynimium and brought back two Illymium princesses, among other spoils.


    Nargos Nazeer, an Ardelymian duke whose jurisdiction did not expand beyond Nazeera according to Ardelymian law, remembered the defeat well. A red-faced rat of a man, he still walked with a limp from a badly healed swipe of Scipio''s blade, and his anger bristled from the sanctions still imposed on his people. Some of the Nazeer men had brought their wives, pale-faced ladies weighted down with jewels and richly embroidered gowns. Most had thick, red hair, which was a badge of the people of the mines. They were healthy and well-fed, but their green eyes, pale as peridot gems, were filled with an envious hunger, a longing for the elegance and taste reflected all around them in Ardelym''s capital city, which held sway over the other city-states.


    The Skaards, fresh from battle and with no women accompanying them, had reluctantly left their weapons in the palace armory and succumbed to baths before the evening meal. Having eaten and drunk voraciously after their long journey, many of the men fought with heavy eyelids to stay awake. But their leader, the blond Skaard warrior with the fresh scar, was alert, his blue eyes shifting among the goings-on with keen intelligence.


    In contrast to the colorful Nazeers, the sisters of the Weir, in their coarse gray robes cloaking their shaved heads, drank no wine and brought only tiny bites of food to their mouths. Their leader, Neit Wol, sat dourly with her arms crossed. Although blind since birth, her senses were keenly tuned to her surroundings. She appeared ready to listen intently and with grave skepticism to what Scipio Davadas had to say.


    At the back of the hall sat Moranna, Jabe, and Carmelle, along with the other higher-ranking household servants, at their own table. With a limited view of the festivities from behind a marble column, Carmelle tried in vain to catch Tylla''s eye.


    "Welcome to Oran." The gold bracelets adorning Scipio¡¯s wrists glittered as he spread his muscular arms wide. "One Zar ago, nine-hundred Blue Planet years, a man named Corellas Davadas was dragged through the God Gate in chains, a slave to the Nazeer people who once ruled all of Ardelym." His dark eyes scanned the crowd. "Within one year," he lifted his finger for emphasis, "my ancestor had killed the Nazeer king and claimed the queen for his own. She was of Nazeer blood, as well, and strong. And together, they created the proud Davadas people. For one Zar, we have ruled justly." He darted his black eyes at Nargos Nazeer''s cold green ones and locked on them tightly. "And where in the past we have at times been enemies, our common ancestry joins us now in brotherhood and peace."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Nargos, surrounded by his henchmen, nodded and cracked a smile. But beneath the banquet table, his ruddy hands clenched into tight fists.


    "And now," Scipio diplomatically crossed the marble floor to face the Wols, who sat timidly like a sea of gray mice, "our sisters in selfless duty will in twenty-three moons open the Weir for us, and we will all travel to watch the God-gate open as it has every Zar since the beginning of time."


    A nervous hum moved through the crowd. Scipio raised a hand in protest. "I know you will be afraid when the Blue Planet passes. I know you''ve heard many tales, but you must, we must, trust in Illym''s great plan."


    Seated on a gilded throne beneath a blazing torch, Flenn Illymium, dressed in a violet robe with the Illymium star crest embroidered in silver threads and pearls, steepled his long fingers beneath this bearded chin and nodded solemnly.


    "Illym will not lead us astray," Scipio concluded.


    The congregation bowed their heads. After a moment of quiet prayer, a throat cleared and a chair slid back against the marble floor.


    "May I have permission to speak, my King?"


    All eyes turned to the warrior Bonn Skaard. His golden head, free of its helmet, rose above the sea of men and women. His hair, freshly washed for the first time in months, glimmered in the torchlight. When he spoke, it was with the heavy accent of the Skaards, a people rarely seen beyond the Kadaar Mountain range.


    "Please do, honored warrior," Scipio said, slowly taking a seat on his gilded throne. "The Skaards continue to be a bulwark against our enemies, and for that, we are grateful. You and your men will not be forgotten in our medals ceremony."


    "Honored King," Bonn said, leveling his ice-blue eyes with Scipio''s dark gaze. "We come to Oran not for medals but to ask for your help."


    Whispers cascaded like waves through the crowd.


    Bonn continued in a confident voice, "We arrived directly from battling the Thrades in the Northern regions."


    Scipio shifted impatiently on his throne. "And you must come in victory to bring so many men."


    Below his golden mustache, Bonn''s lips twitched into an ironic smile. "This is only a fraction of our army. Zar festival or not, we would not leave our families vulnerable. I have, in fact, left my best men behind. I implore you, my King, to give us reinforcements to fight the Thrades," he paused to shoot a dark look at Nargos Nazeer, "and other interlopers who have attacked our villages. And when we are victorious, all of these men, weapons, horses, and ships we brought with us today will belong to you and Oran. This I ask of you, my King." He bowed solemnly and took his seat.


    A rumble of outrage rolled like a runaway chariot through the crowd, gathering speed.


    Scipio raised a dark hand to quell it. "Bonn Skaard, your reputation as a fine warrior and an honest man excuses your importunateness. A banquet among ladies is no place for war talk. We will discuss the topic in my private chambers tomorrow."


    Bonn''s strong jaw clenched beneath his beard, but he said nothing further.


    To shift the mood from somber to festive, Hyperia stood with a broad smile. Her burgundy gown shimmered as she made her way to the front of the dais. The jeweled net catching her jet-black hair floated sparkles about the room.


    As she parted her red lips to recite a memorized speech of welcome, a sudden boom shook the palace walls. The tremor passed from floor to limbs, creating a ripple effect that had some people dropping their wine goblets and running for the doors. The Skaard men instinctually reached for weapons that weren''t there and looked at their leader for direction. Only the Wols stayed silent, their heads bowed beneath their gray cowls.


    Amid the chaos, Flenn Illymium rose and pointed a long finger to the open ceiling. Within the star-studded indigo sky, a white ball of fire exploded, followed by showering stars.


    The screaming guests in the courtyards rustled about in blind panic, unsure of where to seek safety in the strange palace.


    Over the ensuing pandemonium, Flenn raised his voice over the din, shouting, "It is a sign from Illym!"

 Fear

    While King Scipio instructed everyone to remain calm, Flenn Illymium rushed Hyperia to the pulley car to whisk her to the top of Oran tower. As the highest-ranking Illymium in all of Ardelym, she alone would hear the message from their god. The great father, Illym, hadn''t shown his presence in over a Zar since he uttered the prophecy predicting the great Davadas rule.


    Because Lady Hyperia was feeling faint from all the excitement, her handmaiden Moranna accompanied her in the pulley car.


    Tylla and Starlex poked their heads out from the marble colonnade where they had taken cover during the explosion.


    "I need to get to Carmelle," Tylla said, breaking away. Starlex watched her niece dash across the great hall, pushing people out of the way to reach her lover.


    Starlex felt that familiar tug of loneliness as she watched the young women embrace and run off together, hand in hand, in search of a private place to seek refuge and console one another.


    Scipio instructed his servants to usher the people from the banquet hall, the sky still aglow in the comet''s fiery wake, to the inner chambers where they would find shelter and comfort away from Illym''s wrath.


    As Nazeers, Wols, Skaards, and members of the court filed through the arched doorway behind Scipio and his attendants, Starlex remained. While frantic servants milled about her, she stared at the ceiling dome. Within the oculus, the shower of sparks faded against a black velvet sky, replaced by the distant twinkling constellations she knew by heart. In the midst of the ensuing uproar, she found herself drawn to the Heavens and away from the vagaries of man.


    "In my land, the sky turns green sometimes." A deep, oddly accented voice broke her reverie. "Swirls of light extend across the Heavens for nights on end."


    When she turned, she found herself gazing at the Skaard warrior she had observed through her spyglass. His eyes were slanted skyward while one of his large hands traced a surprisingly delicate pattern in the air.


    "It is Illym telling us not to give up, to fight for our lands and our families," he said, shifting his gaze from the oculus to land softly on her face. "I am Bonn Skaard," he said with a slight, awkward bow.


    Starlex''s violet eyes blinked rapidly at the man who stood before her. He was two heads taller than she and had a worn red cape draped over his massive shoulders. His hair, much longer than the typical Oran man, grazed his massive shoulders in golden waves. The wound on his arm had been freshly dressed. His ice-blue eyes sparkled with intelligence, along with something Starlex couldn''t name; she could only feel it on the surface of her skin, a tingle she compared to the feeling of fear.


    "I am Starlex Illymium," she said. Her chin made a dainty nod.


    His head cocked questioningly. "An Illymium?"


    Starlex mustered a shallow store of pride and replied with the dignity she didn''t feel, "I am sister to the queen."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "Ah, a princess then." His mouth formed a wide smile, showing a row of straight white teeth.


    She shifted nervously. "If you like."


    A crooked smile formed between Bonn''s thick beard and mustache. "Starlex Illymium." He said her name slowly as if savoring a sip of fine wine. "You don''t look like you belong here in court."


    Her defenses rising she crossed her arms. "Oh? And where do you suppose I belong?"


    His gaze swept back to the sky. "Up there among the stars."


    She was unsure how to respond, struck by her customary paralyzing shyness. She opened her mouth, hoping something intelligent-sounding would come out when another Skaard man approached. He wore the same short leather britches and ragged fur capelet as the other Skaards, but his rangy glide with long swinging arms and sleek black hair set him apart. After darting a quick and cautious nod at Starlex, the man said something to Bonn in the old Skaard tongue that she didn''t understand. Bonn''s eyes froze with concern for a moment then softened on Starlex.


    "Will you excuse me, princess?"


    The other Skaard clamped his mouth shut to suppress a chuckle at Bonn Skaard''s courtly manners.


    "Of course." Starlex bobbed a shallow curtsy, and the men turned to join a cadre of Skaard warriors shifting anxiously beneath the arched doorway.


    Starlex heard a low whistle behind her and turned to see Rigel watching the Skaard warriors walk away.


    "The tall blond one is handsome," he said, scrunching his face as he approached her, "but I''m not that into muscles. The slim one has potential though."


    She was about to plant an elbow in her cousin''s ribs when Jabe, worry etched on his young face, jogged toward them.


    "Heavens! There you are," Rigel said with a sigh of relief. He gazed around the rotunda to make sure the coast was clear before pulling his lover into a tight embrace.


    "I was in the courtyard with those blasted Nazeers," Jabe said with panting breaths. "And you''re right. They do smell."


    "But those are your people, Jabe," Rigel said, winking at Starlex.


    "Not if I can help it. I can''t wait until they leave."


    "Tell you what," Rigel said with a glint in his eye. "While everyone else is running around like frightened fools, let''s you and I sneak off to the solarium. We''ll drink wine and do some stargazing. Or at least, we can gaze at each other."


    Jabe''s eyes brightened. "Heavens, yes!"


    Rigel turned to Starlex and said, "You can come, too."


    "Yes," Jabe added reluctantly.


    Starlex smiled at their polite offer. "Thanks, but I think I will go for a ride tonight." She wondered, vainly, if she might again run into the tall Skaard with the eyes like ice but quickly brushed away the thought. She hoped Rigel, always so perceptive about her emotional states, would not detect the blush on her cheeks in the dim torchlight. But he was too focused on Jabe to notice.


    "Suit yourself," Rigel said, planting a kiss on her cheek.


    She watched the young lovers run off to their private conference.


    With one last gaze at the sky, now cleared of any sign of Illym and winking with the usual constellations of stars, Starlex left the great hall. She passed through the colonnade where frightened servants scurried about on frantic errands. The palace held a palpable tension that she longed to escape. When she reached her room, she quickly changed from her light gown into a dark lavender shift with a split skirt for riding, adding a cape of black worsted with the Illymium star embroidered on the back in silver threads.


    She took the back stairs out of the palace, nodding to the guards as she left, crossed the moon-dusted garden, and jogged quickly to the stables where Sola, her prized white mare, waited in her stall. In some ways, Sola was her best friend: a faithful companion who asked nothing of her. This night, more than any night she had witnessed, she needed to star-bathe, to watch the dance of light in the sky, to feel the energy of the two moons, and to calm her worry about Illym''s prophecy. Secretly, she hoped there would be something meaningful in it for her.


    "Perhaps that Bonn Skaard is right," she thought, lifting the high-canteled saddle from its post and centering it on Sola¡¯s back. "Maybe I don''t belong in this world, but among the stars."

 The Tower Steps

    Hyperia trembled before the final turn of the tower steps, so narrow she had to turn her hips sideways to pass. The flame of a single wall torch cast uneven shadows along the pocked stone walls.


    Flenn had taken Hyperia this far, but even the ancient seer was not permitted to receive Illym''s message. That role was Hyperia''s alone. Despite relinquishing her title when she married Scipio, Hyperia was still the highest-ranking Illymium in all of Ardelym. She had never been called for this sacred duty before, and as frightened as she was, she felt a sense of pride mounting with each step she took up the twisting stairs.


    This will elevate my prestige among the people, she thought, lifting her skirts to climb the last few steps.


    In her heart sprang a hope she dared not articulate. Perhaps Illym would announce to her what she prayed was true, that she carried Scipio''s son and that Davadas rule would continue, unchallenged, for the next Zar and beyond.


    Squaring her shoulders, she passed through the tall, wooden archway, studded with star symbols of ancient Mynimium, and ascended the tower steps to face her god.


    Moranna waited at the bottom of the stairs, using her apron to mop the dampness forming on her palms. If her mistress should call out for help, should she go to her? She glanced at Flenn for some instruction, but the ancient Illymium had settled into the gilt throne and appeared to be in some kind of trance. His eyes were rolled back in his head so that only the violet-hued whites remained, and his thin, blue lips recited a silent prayer.


    Moranna peered up the winding staircase, watching as the queen ascended. Before she had time to think about what she was doing, she had placed one foot on the marble step, then another. This was forbidden for a member of her class, punishable by death, yet she could not help herself. She needed to see what the queen saw, hear what she heard.


    After all, she thought, panting with each heavy step she took, Illym is my god, too.


    Hyperia stood on the turret, the highest peak in all of Ardelym, higher than the highest iced peak of Kadaar. Gripping the iron-barred parapet with white-knuckled fear, she gazed up at the sky where a star had appeared, a glowing ball of pulsing orange flame, white-hot at its center. It was difficult to keep her eyes open in the face of such brilliance. The heat scorched her thin, Illymium skin. Overcoming fear, although trembling from head to foot, she lifted her chin and opened herself to Illym.


    "My Lord," she cried. "Behold your humble daughter. Bestow on her your wisdom and your will, and she will obey your every command."


    The orb pulsed and then rotated slowly. The force it exerted weakened Hyperia''s brave stance until her grip on the parapet''s railing was the only thing keeping her from complete collapse.


    At last, the voice spoke, deep and bass, adopting the language she would understand.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Hyperia Davadas, daughter of the Illymium and Queen of Ardelym." The sound penetrated her body, making her bones quake. "Are you prepared to receive the prophecy?"


    "Yes, my Lord," she said, trembling and struggling not to faint in the face of such intense light and vibrational energy.


    "Scipio Davadas is a great king, but he will be replaced by an even greater one."


    Hyperia sucked in a ragged breath.


    "The new great king will be a male child born ..."


    Yes? Yes?


    "... to your sister, Starlex Illymium."


    Starlex! There must be some mistake! What? No!


    "Illym!" she cried plaintively, lifting her arms to the sky.


    But the glowing orb began to fade along with Hyperia''s hope that Illym would speak again and contradict what he had said, revealing to her the truth that she would be the one carrying Ardelym''s next king. But each panted breath she took filled her body with bitter realization. She gripped her belly, sure no life grew within her, and throwing herself on the parapet¡¯s cold stone floor, she gave herself over to sobbing despair.


    In the shadow of the spiral staircase, Moranna remained flattened against the wall. Hyperia''s sobs echoing down the stairs filled her with satisfaction. She had heard every word of Illym''s prophecy. Holding that knowledge in her panting bosom, she squeezed her bulk down the twisting staircase to Flenn Illymium''s chamber.


    When Hyperia had recovered enough to descend, she found Flenn Illymium still seated on his gilded throne, composed with eyes closed and long-fingered hands folded calmly in his lap. Moranna was there, too, seated on a hard stool by the hearth, her eyes tensely locked on a spot on the floor.


    "My dearest friends," Hyperia uttered weakly.


    Flenn and Morgana jumped to attention.


    "Tell my lord and husband," Hyperia whispered.


    "Yes, my lady," Flenn said, crossing the room to grip her arm.


    "Tell him to inform all the dignitaries from the Four Corners to meet in the high court tomorrow at noon. I will then disclose to them Illym''s prophecy."


    Flenn sucked in a sharp breath.


    "But now." She reached a hand out for Moranna. The servant rushed to her lady''s side. "I must rest."


    * * *


    Carmelle lay in Tylla''s arms, breathing in her lover''s sweet orange blossom scent. Fueled by the passion of the evening, their lovemaking had taken on a feral urgency that had left their skin raw and glistening with the other¡¯s juices. The smile still lingering on Tylla''s lips testified to her satisfaction, making Carmelle happy. But still, creeping anxiety kept her from fully relaxing into the comfort of the silk sheets and the warmth of Tylla''s soft body. She knew her mother would be checking her room at midnight. She needed to get back, but it was so hard to pull herself away.


    Earlier that night, they had held each other tightly, gazing at the giant red orb floating over Oran tower, wondering what prophecy Illym would decree.


    "It feels like the end of the world," Tylla had whispered.


    "If it is, I will happily die in your arms," Carmelle fervently replied.


    Although Tylla''s sweet embrace had ignited her passion, the sign of Illym in the sky had frightened her more than she revealed. It signaled change, which was Carmelle''s greatest fear. Change meant an end to her idyll. It reminded her that Tylla must marry a man whom she didn''t love, that she would either remain a servant or, worse, return to Nareeza with its red, arid cliffs and its hard people, fated to be nothing more than a miner''s wife, or worse still, a Wol.


    Anything but that!


    With her mother''s harsh words echoing in her memory, she kissed Tylla''s cheek, careful not to wake her, and slowly pulled herself from the comfort of the feather mattress and silk sheets. Her resentment deepening with each breath, she slipped her gown over her head, and not even bothering to arrange her fiery curls coiling to her waist, she slipped out of Tylla''s room and padded along the silent marble corridors to her humble chamber with its small, insufficient window with a drab view of the servants'' courtyard and a cold hard bed stuffed with rags.

 Illyms Prophecy

    On the following day at noon, the representatives of the Four Corners waited in the rotunda of the great hall to hear Illym''s prophecy. The room hummed with anticipation, and although most of those gathered tried their best to hide it, fear marked its presence in shifting feet and nervous glances. The oculus centering the domed ceiling revealed a gray, overcast sky; if any message from Illym lingered there, it was impossible to read it.


    Like any tragedian who played in Oran''s great amphitheaters, Hyperia kept her audience waiting. She hadn''t revealed the prophecy even to Scipio, who now paced the antechamber bordering the rotunda like a bull in a pen. He could only hope the message was favorable to his future kingdom, but he could find no hint of its contents within Hyperia''s composed features. Only her violet eyes glittered with the secret knowledge only she possessed.


    She had chosen for the occasion a lavender gown with the Ilymium star crest embroidered in pearls and silver threads across the high-cut yoke befitting her imperial dignity. Today she was more than Queen of the Four Corners; she was the direct link to their god.


    In the outer courtyards, a crowd of Oran citizens had gathered, mingling with the Nazeers, lower status Wol apprentices, and rough-and-tumble Skaard warriors. The country folk who had seen the comet scintillate the sky had dropped their hoes and brooms and packed up their carts to head for the palace environs to learn of Illym''s prophecy.


    Hyperia timed her entrance perfectly. After Moranna had arranged her mistress'' gown and hair for the umpteenth time, Hyperia, at last, stood before the gilded double doors. Scipio took her arm, and with a nod of her head, two servants slowly opened the doors to a dramatic drumbeat provided by the palace musicians.


    An audible gasp fluttered over the crowd when Hyperia appeared in her shimmering gown. The flames from the candle sconces lit the violet highlights in her black hair. Scipio, wearing a cloak of scarlet and gold silk, marched in lockstep beside her before taking his place on the dais.


    "My people," she said, opening her white palms. Her rings caught the light, sending bedazzling shafts of blue and silver around the room. "Illym has spoken of the future of Ardelym."


    Nargos Nazeer strained on short, stubby legs to see over the crowd. This was the moment he had waited for, a sign from Illym that his people would soon reclaim Oran as their own. The Nazeers, with their forged steel blades, had defeated the ancient Illymium regime and ruled unchallenged for two Zar. But it all ended when the slave tyrant, Corellas Davadas, conquered Oran with his war tactics gleaned from the Blue Planet. But he would have never taken full advantage without the Nazeer queen betraying her people. The Nazeers had been paying the price for her lust ever since.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Never again would I allow a woman to rule," Nargos growled under his breath as he fixed his hateful gaze on Hyperia. A few of his surrounding henchmen heard his remark and chuckled.


    Seated within a gray cluster of Wol women, Neit Wol heard the remark too. She turned her rheumy blank eyes toward Nargos, sniffed the air, and grimaced as if something foul had entered the room.


    Starlex stood in a marble-columned gallery shouldered between Tylla and Rigel. Like everyone else, she was anxious to hear Illym''s words, recalling how she had lain on the beach the previous night, watching the great red orb in the sky and marveling at its mystery. Had Illym heard her breathlessly uttered prayers for love and happiness?


    She scanned the crowd, and her gaze landed on Bonn Skaard. He caught her eye with a flash of blue. Unable to sustain the intensity radiating from beneath his thick eyebrows, she flicked her gaze back to her sister, whose bosom, adorned with ropes of iridescent pearls from the Mynimium treasury, rose and fell with each shuddered breath.


    After milking the suspense for several beats, Hyperia slowly floated her gaze over the crowd and, in a trembling, theatrical voice, announced, "Here is Ilym''s prophecy ..."


    The crowd instantly silenced. No one dared breathe.


    "Scipio Davadas is a great king ..."


    Scipio''s dark eyes flashed with something close to rage.


    "But he will be followed by an even greater king ..."


    The thrum of racing heartbeats vibrated through the crowd, growing in intensity.


    "Who? Who?" Nargos Nazeer muttered through clenched teeth.


    "And that king will be ..."


    Scipio''s hands clenched into tight fists.


    "The child I am carrying." Hyperia turned and faced her husband. She knelt before him and cried, "The male child of Scipio Davadas."


    Scipio released a great sigh and placed his hands proudly on his hips. His muscles rippled tautly beneath his cloak.


    "Hail, Davadas!" Dolceto Davadas, Scipio''s lead henchmen called. Grabbing an attendant''s flag bearing the Davadas red and gold colors, he hoisted it high over his head and shouted again, "Hail, Davadas!"


    The cry passed from mouth to mouth until the cry echoed throughout the hall. "Hail, Davadas of Oran! Hail, King Scipio, our great leader!"


    Nargos Nazeer uttered a curse, turned, and pushed roughly through the crowd. His four henchmen followed him outside to a veranda where Nargos commanded a servant to bring wine and be quick about it.


    With a nod from Flenn Illyminum, the palace servants flew to the kitchen to retrieve libations for the spontaneous celebration. The Master of Song waved his hand, and the drummers, joined by a flute and tambourine, played a lively melody.


    The Wols kept quiet during the happy bustle with their heads gently bowed beneath their gray cowls. But Neit Wol''s blind gaze remained fixed on Hyperia Davadas. Using her other, finely tuned senses, she observed Hyperia, still lying prostrate at her husband''s feet.


    Scipio reached down to pull his wife off the floor, and then, folding her into a tight embrace, he kissed her, eliciting cheers and ballyhoo from the crowd.


    Hidden from view in the colonnade stood Moranna, still shaken from what she had just witnessed. Panting wildly, she leaned against a cold marble column to keep from collapsing. She was the only one who knew the truth¡ªthat Hyperia had lied to the people of the Four Corners. Queen or no queen, to blaspheme Illym was the ultimate crime, punishable by torture and death.

 From the Sky

    4. From the Illymium Codex


    Deep within the Weir, a barren land in the farthest southern corner of Ardelym, in the core of the Black Mountain, lies the God Gate, a portal to another world. Tended by the Wols, a sisterhood as meek as mice and as fierce as vipers, the God Gate opens every Zar to allow men and beasts from the Blue Planet to enter.


    Chapter 9


    When the room had cleared and the celebration had moved to the outer courtyards where a lavish banquet of food and drink was laid out, Neit Wol remained, her blind milky gaze fixed on Hyperia, who at last was forced to recognize her.


    Hyperia left her husband''s side and descended down the dais'' steps to greet the older woman in the center of the rotunda.


    "Neit Wol," she said. "Please let me extend a personal welcome to Oran to you and your Wol sisters."


    Neit Wol''s calloused hand clamped tightly on Hyperia''s slender wrist.


    "Hyperia Davadas," the old Wol whispered, the white hairs on her chin trembling.


    Hyperia instinctually pulled her hand back in revulsion, but Neit Wol held on tight. Neit¡¯s free hand brushed from Hyperia¡¯s bosom to her abdomen.


    Gasping, Hyperia jolted back. "What are you doing?"


    Neit''s cracked lips parted and spread into a smile. The teeth that remained in her mouth were black at the roots. "I want to give your son a blessing, that is all."


    The old witch suspects something, Hyperia thought as cold panic ran through her veins like ice.


    "Revered guarder of the Weir,¡± Hyperia whispered after a pause where quicksilver thoughts rutted sinister pathways in her brain. "I didn''t want to say this in front of everyone, but Ilymm spoke a second prophecy. A secret message, for your ears alone."


    A gray tongue emerged snake-like from Neit''s mouth. She licked her lips. "Oh?"


    "Yes." Hyperia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot. As luck would have it, she saw Flenn follow the king through the colonnade en route to his private office. She returned her attention to Neit. "If you come with me to the Tower, I will divulge Ilymm''s message in complete privacy."


    Hyperia knew that as clever as the old Wol was, she would not be able to resist the tempting offer for a private office with Illym''s ensign. After all, this was the Zar year, when Zephyrea, the Blue Planet, flew by the God Gate. It was Neit Wol''s duty to manage this magnificent event. The stakes were high, and Neit had been preparing an entire lifetime for it with selfless devotion.


    "Now?" the old Wol asked, impatience revealing itself in the rapid blink of her milky eyes.


    "Yes, now!"


    Hyperia clasped Neit''s arm, whisked her out of the great hall through the colonnade, and down the hall toward the pulley car.


    Within minutes, they were flying to the top of Oran Tower. Neither of them spoke a word during the short ride, but Hyperia''s eyes remained fixed on the old Wol, who stood with her other senses alert, nostrils flared against any pressing danger.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Here we are," Hyperia said gently when the pulley car reached its destination. She opened the metal gate and guided Neit into the tower room.


    "Flenn Illymium?" Neit nervously called out.


    "The old mage is still downstairs with the others," Hyperia said, closing the gate and locking the car to prevent it from being returned to a lower floor. "We are completely alone."


    Hyperia sensed fear in the old woman, and it emboldened her.


    "Come," she said, placing a gentle hand on Neit''s arm, "to the tower steps."


    Hyperia held out her hand, but the old Wol hesitated.


    "Illym''s word may only be heard at the highest peak of Ardelym, but you know that."


    "The Kadaar mountains are nearly as high," Neit replied grimly.


    "Nearly, but not quite. Don''t you want to hear Illym''s message concerning your sisterhood?"


    Neit nodded and allowed herself to be led to the narrow spiral staircase.


    "You go ahead, Neil Wol," Hyperia said, lifting the skirts of her sapphire gown. "I will follow behind to catch you in case you fall."


    * * *


    While the citizens of Oran celebrated with the foreign guests in the outdoor courtyards below, Tylla, Starlex, Rigel, Jabe, and Carmelle enjoyed a drink of wine on Rigel''s private balcony. His room was located in one of the high towers with a stunning view of the Crimson sea.


    "At least the pressure''s off you now, milady." Rigel directed his slurred words at Tylla.


    "What do you mean?" Tylla asked from the depths of a chaise lounge where she and Carmelle reclined.


    Rigel turned his back on the stunning vista. The late afternoon sun peeked through misty clouds as the two moons made a soft appearance on the distant horizon. "Now that your mother is having an heir, you can do as you please."


    Carmelle''s lips upturned into a hopeful smile.


    "I never thought of that," Tylla said. "Does this mean I don''t have to marry?"


    "Don''t you want to marry me?" Carmelle asked, only half-joking.


    "If I could, yes," Tylla replied, planting a kiss on her lover''s lips.


    "What about you, Starlex?" Jabe asked as he helped himself to more wine. "Surely you have a few suitors."


    Starlex shrugged and gazed at the sky. "None who appeal to me."


    "Aren''t there any marriageable men left in Mynimium?"


    "A few," she replied with a blas¨¦ air.


    The conversation concerning her unmarried status always made Starlex uncomfortable.


    "Well, isn''t it true you all Illymium women are barren?¡± Jabe asked.


    Starlex gripped the scrolled balcony railing until her knuckles whitened, willing away the rising tide of tears stinging her violet eyes.


    "Leave her alone, you idiot," Rigel said, swatting Jabe on the ass. "Sorry, Starlex, he can''t handle his wine."


    Jabe shrugged. "I didn''t mean to offend you, Starlex. I just assumed it was common knowledge." He shifted his gaze to Tylla. "Isn''t that why your mother had so much trouble? Remember she brought all those old witchdoctors to court to cast fertility spells?"


    "Well, Scipio planted the seed at last. Cheers to that!" Rigel lifted his wine glass.


    Tylla groaned and said, "Can we stop talking about my mother and her baby? I''m bored with the subject already."


    Carmelle sat up and excitedly launched into a new topic, a trip she and Tylla were planning to take if they could somehow convince Hyperia and Scipio it would benefit Tylla''s education. "We''re dying to see Old Mynimium. Do you know that city is seven Zar''s old?"


    "Yes," Rigel mused. "Mynimium was once the shining jewel of Ardelym, an oasis on the Akri desert. But once the Sylvan River dried up, Mynimium died with her."


    Jabe returned to Rigel''s side and slipped his arm around his waist. "Didn''t the Nazeer poison the river with their mining operations?"


    "Something like that," Starlex said, tilting her face to the sky. A cool soft breeze pushed her white tresses from her face. Talk of Mynimium was as hard to hear as talk of marriage. Both made her feel a painful emptiness that only one thing could fill. It was a word she only dared utter in her silent prayers to Illym during her solo rides in the Pale Forest or lying beneath the moons on the Crimson Sea shores at night.


    The word was love.


    Suddenly a loud scream, shrill and horrible, pierced the stillness. A flock of crows exploded from nests within the palace wall recesses, scattering in all directions. Rigel cried and clasped Starlex''s wrist as they watched Neit Wol fall from the sky. She landed with a terrible thud face down on the roof below them, sending a chain reaction of spider-web cracks across the terra-cotta tiles.

 The Wols

    The remaining Wols packed into the great hall, demanding answers.


    "What happened to Neit Wol? Why is our leader dead?"


    Scipio Davadas tried to calm them down, assuring them a full inquiry was taking place into Neit Wol''s suicide.


    At the word suicide, the usually meek and mild-tempered Wols erupted like hot lava shooting from the Great Vulcan¡¯s crater. Their gray cowls fell back, revealing shaved heads red with anger.


    Scipio, unnerved by female hysterics, whispered to Flenn Illymium standing next to him on the dais, "Where is your ladyship? She is the one who should be handling this."


    "The Queen is resting, your grace. The old Wol''s death gave her quite a shock," Flenn grimly answered.


    Scipio scowled and ran a finger across his full lips. "Bring her here. And be quick about it," he hissed.


    Flenn Illymium bowed and relayed the message to a serving man.


    Scipio offered the women wine to calm their nerves. They refused.


    "You can''t buy our silence with food or drink," one Wol, a petite young woman with a stern face, said, stepping forward.


    From his high dais, Scipio gazed down at her as if she were a child, replying patiently, "No one is trying to buy you, my sister. We are as anxious to know the truth as you."


    Her confidence growing, the young Wol said, "We know one truth. Neit Wol would never kill herself."


    "This young lady is speaking the truth," Hyperia''s sweet voice, betraying a hint of fatigue, sounded from beneath the archway. Hyperia wore a coral silk dressing gown, and her black hair was undone, billowing in soft waves to her waist. One arm was draped around Moranna''s neck for support.


    With a nod from Scipio, Moranna helped the queen ascend the few steps to join the king on the dais. Hyperia settled into her throne chair, took a moment to catch her breath, then addressed the Wol congregation.


    "My dearest sisters, protectors of our sacred God Gate," Hyperia began, "whose sacrifices mean more to Oran than you will ever know. You," she pointed a gentle hand at the passionate young woman, "what is your name?"


    Softened by Hyperia''s feminine presence, the young Wol bowed her head and said, "Genya, your grace."


    "Genya," Hyperia said, pronouncing the young Wol''s name with a musical cadence. "I do apologize to you, to all of you, for not appearing before you sooner." She pulled a silk handkerchief from a pocket of her robe and used it to mop her moist forehead.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Scipio took Hyperia''s limp hand in his and said, "Your queen is not well, but she has generously left her bed to answer your questions. This strain has been too much for her." The timbre of his deep voice echoed around the rotunda. "Do you want her to lose the child Illym has prophesied would be the next great king?"


    Moranna, standing by the shadowed wall within the marble colonnade, looked down and twisted her apron in her calloused hands.


    A hum of humility skittered across the seas of Wols. Their cowls returned to their bare heads. But Genya remained defiantly at the center of the rotunda, her bare feet straddling the Davadas crest inlaid with gold and onyx on the marble floor.


    "We only want to know what happened," she said.


    Hyperia waved away her husband''s protest and said, "Of course you do. And I hope my answer will bring you some satisfaction, some peace, although I am confused about it myself."


    "We are listening," Genya said, clasping her white hands before her gray cloak.


    "Yesterday, after the court gathering," Hyperia began, "Neit Wol told me she wished to speak to me in private. She insisted we go to the Oran Tower. I asked her why, but she wouldn''t say. She was, and I''m sure you will all agree, a good but forceful woman."


    The Wols hummed quietly. They couldn''t disagree with that assessment.


    "When we got to the tower room, I was surprised to see that Flenn Illyminum was not there."


    Flenn''s violet eyes flashed, wondering if the queen were imparting some blame on him.


    "She asked to go to the highest parapet to tell me something important. It had to do with Illym''s prophecy, she said. Something about the Zar ... of the coming of the Blue Planet ... the opening of the God Gate."


    The Wols buzzed with agitation.


    "What about it?" Genya''s voice rose above her sisters. "What did Neit Wol say?"


    Hyperia dropped her pointed chin and slowly shook her head. "Alas, I never got a chance to hear. She ran ahead of me up the tower steps. I suppose she got so excited that she didn''t realize, in her sightlessness, how narrow the turret is, how low the parapet wall." She paused as if overcome with emotion. "When I reached the top, she had already fallen. I screamed and fainted ... that''s all I remember."


    "Not suicide then," Scipio announced definitively. "But a tragic accident. Flenn Illyminum will record it in our annals as such. No shame will accompany Neil Wol''s name, only honor and selfless duty."


    He nodded as if expecting to put an end to the matter. He felt restless and fatigued in the dour women''s presence, and his stomach was beginning to growl for his dinner.


    Genya, however, remained fixed in her spot. "The answer does not satisfy us, but we will accept it nonetheless. We are now without a leader, and, as I am sure Flenn Illyminum will confirm, there is an Ardelym law concerning a Wol''s death." Her gray eyes caught the flame of a wall sconce and shimmered with keen intelligence.


    Scipio shifted uncomfortably on the hard throne. "Oh, and what is that?"


    Flenn cleared their throat and said, "If a Wol dies outside of the Weir, the city environs wherein she passed must sacrifice one of her daughters to the Wol''s sisterhood."


    "Sacrifice?" Hyperia asked weakly.


    Genya smirked. "Sacrifice does not mean death, my Queen. We are not as barbaric as the old lore would have you believe. It means you will give up one of your Oran maidens, to join our sisterhood."


    Scipio and Hyperia exchanged a quick glance.


    "It shall be done!" Scipio said, pounding his right fist into his left palm.

 A Plea to the King

    The following morning Neit Wol''s body, draped in a simple shroud without flowers or adornments, was pushed from Oran Harbor on a small barge, and when it had sailed a certain distance away, an archer poised on top of the north citadel wall pierced it with a flaming arrow. The citizens of Oran and their guests watched it burn. No one except a few of the younger Wols shed a tear.


    Despite the copious food, drink, and nightly entertainment, the foreign guests were becoming restless after a few days'' stay at Oran City. The Wols'' visit had been ruined by tragedy, the Nazeers had only become more resentful and envious of Oran''s wealth, and the Skaards were anxious to return to the north to resume their battle against a terrible enemy.


    The king himself was tired of all the demands placed on him. He longed to return to his normal routine of taking leisurely rides over Oran''s rich farmlands and spending time with his family.


    As promised, Scipio met with Bonn Skaard and several of his comrades. For the meeting, he chose his private war chamber, which was located on an upper floor overlooking the northern ramparts. Dark walls displaying tapestried maps of the Four Corners set the stage for serious strategizing, although an uneasy peace had dominated the land ever since Scipio¡¯s victory at Mynimium humbled the hot-headed Nazeers. A set of double doors opened to a large balcony where the king and his men could observe the sea and the red coral shores. Unbeknownst to anyone but Scipio''s most trusted allies, the room featured a hidden door behind one of the tapestries. It was the last line of defense in case of an attack. It led to a passage of interconnected stairways leading to Oran''s underground canal system, where a ship filled with weapons and supplies awaited if the royal family ever had to flee.


    Displaying no hint of intimation by the opulent surroundings, Bonn stood before the king and again requested battle reinforcements in exchange for the proffered men, ships, horses, and weapons. Scipio refused, claiming he would need more proof than Bonn Skaard''s word that the Thrades were nothing more than a myth, that they actually existed beyond what was depicted in old books and fading murals.


    "Shall I bring you the blood of my people to prove what they have done?" Bonn Skaard asked the king, his thickly accented voice rising. "Or the bodies of my wife and child¡ª" A noose of emotion tightened around his throat, cutting off his words.


    Bonn¡¯s rangy companion laid a hand on Bonn''s shoulder and addressed the king. "We can draw you a picture if you''d like, Your Grace. These Thrades are meaner than a hungry dragon, about yay tall," he stood on tiptoes and thrust his hand in the air. "With skin so thick our arrows bounce right off ''em. And when they get close enough to tear you with their claws, you don''t stand a chance. They have no weapons. They don''t need ''em. Why, they''ll break every bone in your body with one swipe of their claws, and the teeth in their heads, don''t even get me started on the teeth¡ª"


    Scipio Davadas impatiently raised a hand to halt the man''s speech. "And what is your name, my loquacious friend?"


    "My name''s Leiffen Skaard," the tall, thin man bowed theatrically, "but you can call me Lo Quacious."Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    The Skaard men laughed. Scipio''s dark eyes flashed, unamused. "And what is your special talent, my friend. You don''t look like a warrior."


    "Ah, well, my special talent is ... I have quite a few, don''t I, boys?" He set the leather bag he was carrying onto the floor and began to rummage through it. He pulled a flute from its depth. "I can play a bit," he blew a few trills on it then dropped it back in the bag. "Helps to keep morale up on those cold marches. Ah, and of course, these come in handy." From the bag, he produced four silver orbs, small enough to fit in his hand, and began to expertly juggle them in the air.


    Scipio Davadas leaned his hands on the polished round table laden with styluses and scrolls and said, "Something else to help morale? Your army must have plenty of leisure time to indulge these amusements, Bonn Skaard."


    "Well," Leiffen said, "They are convenient in other ways, as well. Watch!" He caught the four balls and tossed one in the air. It made two quick orbits around the room. The orb then circled a decorative clay pot sitting atop a marble column holding some ribboned scrolls. Gaining speed until the orb was only a silver flash, it struck the pot, shattering it to shards and strewing the scrolls pell-mell around the room. Leiffen held out his hand, and the silver orb returned to it.


    "Sorry about that," Leiffen said with false chagrin. "But as you can see, My grace, these babies come in handy on the battlefield. You can''t believe what they can do to a Thrade''s head." He mimed an enormous explosion.


    Flenn Illyminum, who had been standing in the shadows, stepped forward and cleared his throat. "May I examine your orbs, sir?"


    Leiffen laughed. "I once had a serving wench ask me the same thing. Here you go." He tossed one to Flenn, who caught it cautiously.


    Flenn examined it carefully, then exclaimed excitedly, "Why these are Illyminum orbs. Where in all of Ardelym did you find these?"


    "Well," Leiffen began, "It''s a funny story-"


    King Scipio cut him off with a raised hand. "I''m sure your tale is quite amusing, but I must get back to the business of running a kingdom, and you, my friends, to your good work in the north."


    Bonn Skaard stood his ground. "And what of our plea?"


    Scipio''s dark eyes narrowed. "I will not send an army to fight with you until I have more proof."


    Bonn and Leiffen exchanged a wary gaze.


    "But to prove I am a man of my word," Scipio continued, "I will send several scouts to accompany you back to Kadaar. After they report back to me, I will make a final decision regarding your plea."


    "By then, it might be too late," Bonn said.


    "That is the best I can do," said Scipio, straightening his back. He signaled toward the door, indicating the meeting was over.


    * * *


    The Skaards respectfully waited for the black smoke from Neit Wol''s funeral barge to dissipate into the mist hovering above the Crimson Sea, then they gathered their troops and horses and headed to their waiting ships.


    With the hem of their long purple robe kicking up dust along the stone path leading to the stables, Flenn Illymium caught up with Bonn Skaard.


    "Please, sir," Flenn said, out-of-breath, as he laid a pale, long-fingered hand on Bonn''s thickly muscled arm. "A word."


    Bonn turned, blinking ice-blue eyes at the ancient Illymium. "Yes?"


    "The king is wrong, and you are right," Flenn said. "Of course the Thrades are real. You have no reason to lie about it. Not only that," he paused, scanning Bonn''s face, "I can see in your eyes how much you''ve suffered at their hands. And for that, I''m sorry."


    Bonn gently shook off Flenn''s hand and began bridling his horse, a silver-gray stallion over sixteen hands tall. "Suffering won''t save my people. Only we can do that, and now we must return to them. It was a mistake to come here."


    "Please, sir," Flenn implored. "Give me one more day to convince the king."


    Bonn released his grip on the bridle and sighed. His good sense winning over his pride. "All right,¡± he said. ¡°One more day then."

 The Lottery

    Every unmarried girl between fifteen and twenty-five was corralled into the palace''s outer courtyard. Farm girls from the green hills and pastures beyond Oran''s walls stood cheek by jowl with wealthy merchant children huddled with their friends and sisters to keep the poorer girls'' rags from brushing up against their silk gowns. The courtyard''s gardens added cloying aromas of jasmine and hyacinth to the prevailing odor of fear.


    The king and queen, accompanied by Flenn Illymium and several of Scipio''s henchmen including Dolceto Davadas, stood on the large, first-floor balcony looking down at the frightened Oran girls.


    The warm, humid air was tense. No one was happy to witness the spectacle, except for the Nazeers, who watched from a balcony two stories above. Their ruddy faces gleamed with anticipation at the suffering of an Oran citizen.


    A Wol had died within Oran''s walls. Therefore, an Oran girl must take her place.


    To prove his commitment to fairness, Scipio Davadas added to the great clay pot the eligible girls from his household: Starlex, Carmelle, even his daughter, Tylla. While in their private chambers, Hyperia had become hysterical at the thought that Tylla could be chosen for the horrible fate of becoming a Wol, to have her raven tresses shaved, to live out her life in the Weir wasteland, barren and dressed in rags.


    Scipio had sent for wine, and when Hyperia had calmed down, he explained to her that without the gesture of equality, he would never maintain peace within the Four Corners, especially the vengeful Nazeers who still smarted from their defeat at Mynimium.


    Hyperia, at last, gave in, and when she watched her husband drop Tylla''s name into the pot among the others, she shut her eyes tightly and prayed to Illym to spare her daughter.


    Flenn Illyminum placed all the names of the Oran girls into the clay pot, lifted it between his long, slim fingers, and shook it vigorously.


    A hush fell over the crowd, some of the girls nearly fainting in anticipation. Some caught the eye of the boy they loved and prayed they would soon be delivered from their imprisonment back to his arms.


    If Illym spares me, some prayed, I will give up my virginity tonight. Marriage or no marriage.


    Starlex prayed, too. Her fingers steepled beneath her pointed chin.


    Whatever fate Illym has chosen for me, please let it not be a Wol. I will never find the love I crave in the steaming bogs of the Weir.


    Starlex and Tylla were pressed together shoulder to shoulder in the same corral with the other girls. Tylla shifted her sandaled feet impatiently as if her being chosen as a Wol wasn''t a possibility, that if by chance her name was drawn, somehow her mother would fix it. She always did. Less confident was Carmelle, whose white face bore the pall of a condemned prisoner about to mount the gallows.


    At last, Flenn finished stirring the pot. The court musicians quickened the tempo of the drumbeat, adding to the tension. With a nod from the king, Flenn reached into the pot and retrieved a name. The drumming stopped abruptly.


    The crowd held its collective breath. Flenn Illymium took several steps to the edge of the balcony and announced to the congregation, "The chosen name is Carmelle Nazeer."


    Gasps of relief merged with cries of sorrow.


    "No," Tylla cried as Carmelle collapsed, sobbing into her arms. She gently set Carmelle on the ground, broke from the corral of girls, some of whom were sobbing, others celebrating, and shouted up to the king, "Not Carmelle, Father!"This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    King Scipio rested his hands on the balcony railing, looked down at his daughter, and said, "It is the law, my child. There is nothing more we can do."


    Tylla fell to the ground on her knees and casting moist eyes at her mother begged, "Give the Wols one of the poor farm girls, not Carmelle."


    "Get up off the ground," Hyperia hissed. "Stop making a fool of yourself in public. It is the law, and we must abide by it."


    The other Oran girls, released from their captivity, ran like babies into their mothers'' arms. Some jumped into the waiting embrace of their young men, covering them with passionate kisses.


    Stunned, Starlex found her way away from the crowd and leaned, weak with relief, against the high stone wall circling the garden.


    Her pointed ears trembled at the sound of a wretched sob. She turned to see Moranna, folded at the waist as in great pain. The older woman''s face was pressed into her apron as she sobbed, pieces of her white-streaked red hair spilling from her tight bun.


    In one struck of bad luck, all of her plans for her only child had been destroyed. Her dreams for her pretty daughter to marry a rich Oran merchant, to retire from her life of servitude and live out her old age as a pampered dowager and grandmother were all dashed to pieces. Now, there was nothing left. She had threatened Carmelle with selling her to the Wols, but she never meant it. Now Illym was punishing her.


    "I''m sorry, Moranna," Starlex said, reaching out to gently touch the servant''s arm.


    Moranna recoiled from her as if from a snake. "It is you-the one who''ll bear the next great king!"


    "I don''t understand your meaning," Starlex said, trying to find compassion for the woman despite her rudeness. She knew Moranna was hurt, and people who are hurt often strike out unintentionally.


    "Your sister, the queen, has deceived you, Starlex Illymium." Moranna cast her tear-streaked eyes to the upper balcony where the Nazeers were holding a conference. "I will return to my people," Moranna muttered as if to herself. "I will tell them everything!"


    "Tell them what?" Starlex said. "I don''t understand you."


    Ignoring the princess''s inquiry, Moranna turned and ran, as quickly as her age and girth would allow, through the archway leading inside the palace.


    Starlex had just caught her breath from the disturbing exchange when Rigel, his young face grimly lined, sidled up to her.


    "Come," he said, gently taking her arm. "We must watch our friend become a Wol."


    "I can''t," Starlex said weakly. "It''s too awful."


    "I know," he replied softly. "But we can try to give Tylla comfort."


    Starlex nodded, knowing Rigel was right. An ashen-faced Jabe joined them. Rigel reached out and patted him on the shoulder. The look that passed between the two young men indicated far more than they could safely verbalize in public. They were all shaken by the news, but Jabe was left speechless. Carmelle was like a sister to him.


    Together the three friends climbed the stone steps to the first-floor balcony, where they found Tylla, collapsed in a chair and sobbing. Draping their arms around her, they helped the princess stand, and then they watched in horror as the Wols surrounded a sobbing Carmelle like a swarm of gray mice.


    First, they stripped her of the pale green gown, a hand-me-down from Tylla. She stood naked before the crowd. Some of the men and boys leered at her trim young body trembling with humiliation and fear.


    "Carmelle Nazeer," Genya said as she emerged from the gray-hooded group. She wore Neit Wol''s platinum medallion carved with an sigil of the Black Mountain, indicating she was the Wol''s new leader. "Join us now in our sisterhood to live the remainder of your life in the Weir."


    Carmelle shuddered and sobbed, attempting to cover her naked shame with her hands.


    "You will remain a virgin, pure, married only to duty, to poverty, and your sacred sisterhood as a keeper of the God Gate."


    Two Wol women, smiles glinting sinisterly from beneath cowled heads, approached the trembling girl. One on each side, they forced Carmelle to her knees. Genya Wol stood before her. From her gray homespun cloak, she produced a pair of long, silver shears fastened to her waist by a black ribbon.


    Holding the shears aloft, Genya cried. "Carmelle Nazeer no more! You are now one of us!"


    The crowd gasped as Genya, her face betraying a sadistic pleasure in her work, brought down the shears.


    Cut by cut, Carmelle''s thick red locks thudded to the ground, taking with them what remained of the girl''s pride. When it was done, another Wol stepped forward with a razor and completed the operation until Carmelle''s head was a pink shining orb. A gray cloak was thrown over Carmelle who had no defense but to whimper softly, calling for her mother. And then small hands pulled her into the sea of Wols until she was indistinguishable from the rest.

 Secrets and Truths

    Hyperia rested her cheek against her silk pillowcase and sighed with satisfaction. She couldn''t believe her luck. If she had to choose one person to banish from Oran, it would be Carmelle.


    When she had at first caught Tylla in the arms of Moranna''s daughter in the garden the previous spring, she had chalked it up to youthful experimentation, something most girls went through before they transitioned to boys.


    She had experienced something herself at Tylla''s age, and it remained a tender and erotic memory she often brought to the front of her mind during Scipio''s rough lovemaking. It helped her reach a climax, and her husband was none the wiser. He would have the satisfaction of pleasuring his wife, and she would keep a harmless secret. Every wife had them.


    But when Tylla and Carmelle''s relationship continued to blossom, she worried. She assumed it would settle down once Tylla was safely married, that both girls who accept the situation and move on. But fortune had shone down from her as radiantly as Illym''s prophecy. Carmelle was gone, and Tylla would soon forget.


    But will Moranna?


    She thought of her maid suddenly. The older woman had not appeared in her chamber at the usual hour.


    No doubt she was upset and took to her bed. I will forgive her this time. I will offer her compensation for her grief, a larger apartment on one of the higher floors, something with a view of the Crimson Sea, something to ease the pain of her loss.


    She settled deeper into the silk sheets where she slept alone except for those nights when he appeared at her bedchamber. Now that he believed he planted his seed in her womb, she would have a reprieve from his lustful demands. At least for a little while.


    Feeling satisfied, Hyperia dozed off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.


    * * *


    Moranna Nazeer was not in her bed, crying herself to sleep as Hyperia assumed. She was in the guest quarters located on the far side of the palace yard, having a private audience with Nargos Nazeer.


    With bated breath and frequently blotting her tears with her apron, Moranna informed Nargos about what she had heard on the tower steps, about Illym''s true prophecy, and how Hyperia had lied to all the people of Ardelym.


    During Moranna''s tale, Nargos Nazeer''s ruddy face had twisted from an impatient scowl to a comedic mask of pure joy.


    After a moment''s thought, he placed his calloused hands on Moranna''s shoulders and said, "I am not a philosophical man, but I truly believe you were sent to me tonight by Illym himself to save the Nazeer people from this deception, this Davadas tyranny. We are the rightful citizens of Oran, of all of Ardelym! This moment proves it. My dear Nazeer sister, I know your loss was great, but your sacrifice will not be forgotten."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Moranna nodded and blew her nose into her apron. They were alone in the room, Nargos having sent his manservant away after Moranna had pounded on his door for entry.


    Nargos stepped away from her and made a slow promenade about the room. His brain snapped to attention, quickly forming plans. Low burning torches scattered dancing shadows across the marble floor.


    He parted the curtains and stepped onto the balcony. The guesthouse had an eastern view of the Pale Forest, its treetops shimmering in the light of the two moons. Nargos breathed in the air of the trees and farms beyond; the scent was sweet, teeming with life, a contrast to Nazeera, with its dry, dusty air which scarred the lungs of every citizen.


    Nargos coughed and leaned against the marble railing. His old knees felt weak suddenly. His body was tired, but his thoughts poured through his brain like molten steel.


    "What will you do now, sir?" Moranna''s voice quavered behind him.


    He turned to her and said, "That''s not your concern. Get yourself on Pendulum Road en route to Nazeera immediately. We will pick you up along the way." When Moranna''s eyes flashed with fear, he softened and said, "You belong with your people."


    "But what of the girl, my lord?"


    Nargos had thought a lot about the Illymiums since his army''s ill-fated charge on Mynimium twenty years before. The Illymium city had been sparsely populated due to a diminishing birthrate for a Zar or more. The Sylvan River that had once filled it with abundance had dried up. But still, there was a sense of pride in owning Ardelym''s first great city, a neighbor to the south of his realm.


    They blame me and my mines for destroying the river basins, but who provides them with the steel for their blades, the gold and gems on their wives'' fingers?


    Ever since Nargos'' ill-fated siege, the walls of Mynimium had remained closed, occupied only by a few trade families, mad elders who refused to leave, and a growing population of feral cats. Most had forgotten about the ancient city, its pink stone edifices crumbling into the desert sands.


    But Nargos Nazeer hadn''t forgotten. His battled-scarred body reminded him every day of his defeat. Now, here was his chance to exact his revenge and take what was rightfully his.


    "The girl?" Nargos asked.


    "Yes," Moranna replied weakly. "She''s a sweet child, naive but good-hearted. Unlike her sister. I wouldn''t wish any harm to come to her."


    Nargos'' worm-like lips twisted into a smile. "No harm at all, only what is fated by our god''s decree. Now, tell me, dear sister." He turned and fixed her in his green gaze. "Where may I find this Starlex Illymium?"


    "Now, sir?" Moranna stepped sheepishly past the fluttering curtains onto the balcony.


    "Yes, now. Is she sleeping in her chamber?" Nargos asked, gazing enviously at the endless expanse of rich Oran land, frosted with silver moonlight.


    Moranna licked her lips nervously. Leaning on the railing for support, she pointed a thick, trembling finger over the Oran rooftops toward the Pale Forest. "You will find her there, sir. She rides out to the sea every night."


    "She sounds like a strange girl," he mused.


    "Yes. Strange, but sweet. Please don''t hurt her."


    "Moranna," he said with a sigh. He turned and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "I will not hurt her. She is the vessel that will contain Illym''s prophecy. Our God didn''t say who would sire this great king, did he?"


    Moranna nodded, understanding what he intended to do.


    Before she could speak, to reiterate her wish that no harm should come to the princess, he pressed several Nazeera gold coins in her hand and said, "Get yourself to Pendulum Road, dear sister. Leave the rest up to me."

 A Moonlit Ride

    Starlex rode her white horse, Sola, on the path of the Pale Forest. Shafts of violet moonlight filtered through wind-rustled treetops. The sweet scent of Flodorias, yellow blossoms dipping into the path from low-hanging branches, and the crunch of dry leaves beneath Sola¡¯s gave her comfort. Feeling no need to rush, she kept Sola at a slow walk. Doubting she would sleep at all that night, she planned to stay out until dawn, where she hoped the rising sun would obliterate the shadows of the day''s events.


    The image of what had happened to Carmelle was a hot brand burned into her brain, and she could not erase the scar. She had gone to Tylla afterward and tried to comfort her, but her young niece was inconsolable, weeping and thrashing on the bed until Flenn Illymium had at last given her a potion to help her sleep. Starlex wondered at the depth of Tylla''s passion, selfishly wishing she could experience a love so intense, no matter the cost.


    I''d welcome the pangs of love over this empty, lonely prison that is my life.


    Tears of self-pity welled up in her violet eyes. It was a familiar emotion, and tonight under only the stars'' watchful gazes, Starlex reached into her own heart and massaged her painful longing. Letting Sola find the way, she loosened the reins and leaned forward over the horse''s neck, weeping into the soft white mane.


    No man will ever love me how Tylla loves Carmelle because of what I am, an Illymium. An outsider. A freak!


    After the siege of Mynimium, the other hundred or so of her kinsmen had been brought back to Oran, but except for her cousin Rigel, none lived within the citadel. Most were scattered to the winds to make their own way in the country. But unaccustomed to physical labor and unsuited for farming or even trade occupations, they fell into poverty and disgrace. There were tales of mad Illymiums living in the caves of Terragonian Bluff, wandering the cliffs at night, mad men and woman screaming at the moons, their children in rags, scavenging the land for food. Some had been caught stealing from farms and were executed on the spot. Many of the women turned to selling their delicate, pale-skinned bodies for a meal and a bed. Starlex had overheard crude men brag of rutting Illymium whores to death.


    Dry your tears, you fool, she admonished herself before she plummeted too far into her grief. You are one of the fortunate ones.


    She stopped on the high ridge before veering down the path leading to the sea as she gazed at the sky. The mother moon and her obedient daughter, milky white and glowing, bathed the Crimson Sea in glittering prisms of light. A cool breeze skittered across the surface of the water, blowing back the errant white tresses from her pale, oval face.


    She would speak to Flenn Illymium about her feelings, she decided. Unburden her heart to the ancient seer. Perhaps Flenn would give her some guidance about what to do with her life. She didn''t want to remain in the palace, a burden to her sister, just dreaming her life away. She wanted more, a purpose, love ...Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    At first, she thought the sound she heard was an approaching storm, but the sky was clear and studded with stars. But then Sola''s head rose, her ears pricking at the sound of thundering hooves moving through the Pale Forest and coming right toward her.


    Ribbing her sandaled feet into Sola¡¯s flanks, Starlex flew down the path to the moon-bleached beach. Her hair flying behind her like aflag, she rodealong the frothy surf. She hoped it was Scipio''s men, out for a midnight drill. But she knew better than to hold onto that hope, and so did Sola.


    She rode hard along the shore, the hammering hooves growing louder and louder in her ears until she dared to take a peek over one shoulder. Six Nazeer warriors riding astride black steeds were gaining on her with each stride, scattering sand and surf.


    Starlex pulled the leather crop she rarely used from her belt and smacked it down on the mare¡¯s flank. Sola bolted forward with a snort and a kick.


    What in Heavens are the Nazeers doing? What do they want with me?


    Starlex looked straight ahead, pointing Sola''s nose at the harbor where the Skaards'' fleet bobbed in the bay. Weak flames from torches still blazed, winking light in the darkness. The Skaard men on night watch would protect her. She thought longingly of Bonn Skaard with his broad shoulders and intense blue eyes. She imagined him sitting beneath a torch at the harbor, running a whetstone along the edge of his long blade.


    Sola''s white mane fluttered in the wind, her lathered neck glistening in the moonlight. Starlex knew her mare would soon be played out. The harbor lights twinkled before her wind-whipped sight.


    If I can only get there in time!


    Darting a glance to her left, she saw a black horse running neck and neck beside her. A gauntleted hand reached out to grab her reins. Starlex raised her crop and struck the man''s arm, but her attack was useless against his chainmail sleeve.


    A horse and rider flanked the right side of her along the surf; another rider cut her off in front, spraying wet sand in the mare¡¯s face.


    Sola reared up, hooves beating the air. Starlex was thrown backward, nearly tumbling off. Her crop slipped from her fingers as she struggled to maintain her seat. A man seized her around the waist and roughly pulled her from the saddle.


    In her peripheral vision, she saw Sola, reins dangling, running up the beach toward the Pale Forest.


    The next thing Starlex knew, she was in the surf on hands and knees. A cold wave rolled over her. She sucked in saltwater. Her brain buzzed, panicked. She was going to drown, to have her body wash out to sea, to become food for sea creatures, never to be seen again. A searing pain settled in her lungs as she struggled to breathe.


    Is this how it ends? she thought, nearly surrendering to the watery grave. To die without ever knowing love? Would anyone even care or weep?


    She was being scraped along the sand, knees rubbed raw and her soaked gown clinging to her exhausted limbs. Calloused hands pulled her from the wet sand and threw her like a limp sack over a horse¡¯s back. The saddle creaked as a rider settled in behind her. She could feel the man¡¯s heat, his weight.


    One of the men shouted, ¡°Kyeme!¡± ¡°Ride,¡± it meant, in the old Nazeer tongue, Starlex thought as she faded into unconsciousness.

 A Plan and a Goodbye

    By mid-morning the following day, the royal household had become aware of the situation; the Nazeers had departed during the night and taken the Illymium princess, Starlex, with them. Starlex''s horse, Sola, had returned to the stable, lathered and with reins dragging. The question rattling Scipio and his small coterie of henchmen was why the princess was captured.


    Hyperia, tense hands hidden within the folds of her morning gown, thought she knew who was behind the treason. But needing proof, she sent one of her servants to fetch Moranna.


    The servant returned moments later and informed the queen that Moranna had taken off during the night.


    "Go after her then, and bring her here!" Hyperia shouted as the servant hurried off to carry out her order.


    Two equestrian guards were dispatched to Pendulum Road to search for the runaway maidservant.


    Dire and desperate thoughts funneled through Hyperia''s brain like molten lead as she made her way down the hall for a private meeting in the king''s war chamber.


    "Have they sent a word of any ransom yet?" asked Scipio''s main advisor, the wealthy landowner Dolceto Davadas.


    Scipio scowled and shook his head.


    "Nor will they," Hyperia spoke up.


    The men turned to acknowledge the dark-haired beauty in a burgundy gown as she entered the war chamber. She closed the door tightly behind her.


    "If you know something, wife, say it," Scipio snapped. The Nazeers had been a thorn in his side for too long, and this news about his sister-in-law pushed the thorn in deeper. He didn''t want to start a war with the Nazeers, but this transgression could not go ignored. Some action on Oran''s part must be taken. The question was what should be done and to what degree. At this point, he needed more information before he could make that determination.


    "Starlex was taken by Nargos Nazeer because they are planning another siege of Mynimium," Hyperia said with a calm voice and a composed visage, although within the folds of her gown, her white fingers trembled.


    "How do you know this, and why wasn''t I told?"


    Hyperia dropped her eyes to the floor. "I''m sorry, my lord. I should have said something. It was a conversation I overheard between my maidservant, Moranna, and some of the Nazeers. At the time, I took it as nothing more than silly women''s gossip."


    "And we have no reason to think it''s anything more than that." Scipio paced the thick carpet in his war chamber, rubbing his short black beard.


    Flenn Illymium cleared his throat and said, "I passionately advise against waging any full-on attack against the Nazeers. They''ve amassed too powerful an army. Such an operation would require weeks of preparation and strategy. To act rashly now would be a grievous error."


    Scipio huffed. His anger was riled, not because he cared that much about Starlex (she was little more than a sister-in-law to him), but to have a member of his household snatched within Oran city limits was a reprehensible offense. He consciously uncurled his tight fists at his side and said, "What do you suggest, Flenn Illymium?"


    "The princess must be returned at once." Flenn''s eyes, violet lights within folds of wrinkled flesh, were hollow with fatigue. "But we need to keep this intelligence only within our small group." The enormous sleeves of Flenn''s sapphire robes grazed the carpet as he slowly circled the large table on which sat scrolls and unfurled maps of the Four Corners. "If news of this gets out, Oran will appear weak to the rest of Ardelym."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Hyperia''s brain buzzed. Flenn Illymium was right. The fewer who knew, the less chance of her deception leaking. With growing horror, she was certain Moranna had heard the prophecy and told Nargos Nazeer about it. That was the true reason why Starlex was kidnapped.


    If Starlex were to bear a Nazeer son, that child would be the next great king.


    Hyperia''s brow tensed into fine lines as she secretly admonished herself for allowing her sister to slip through her fingers so easily. After hearing Illym''s prophecy, she should have immediately taken care of Starlex herself. It would have been easy for her sister''s skiff to sink in the sea.


    I need to get her back here at once! ruminated the queen, Before Nargos or one of his kind can plant his seed.


    "Who is your best warrior in Oran, my Lord?" Hyperia blurted out.


    Scipio appeared thoughtful for a moment, his jaw tense beneath his closely trimmed beard. Slowly he turned and opened the double doors to the balcony. Golden light spilled into the somber room, filling the crevasses of the dark, carved paneling.


    He stepped out onto the balcony and settled his gaze on the citadel''s west wall. Beyond the front gate, the Wols were leaving Oran City to make their slow return to the Weir. Behind them, impatiently on horseback and foot, waited the Skaards, eager to return to their warships and their battling brothers in the north.


    "Not only in Oran." Scipio pressed his palms onto the marble railing. "The question is who is the best warrior in all of the Four Corners?"


    Hyperia, Flenn, and Dolceto joined him on the balcony.


    A smile tugged at the corners of Scipio''s lips. He darted his eyes at Dolceto and said. "Bring Bonn Skaard to me at once. And hurry! He and his men are about to depart our city."


    * * *


    In the crowded courtyard near the front gates, Tylla, Rigel, and Jabe pushed their way through the crowd of citizens who had gathered to send off the departing guests. Young maidens, smiling shyly, handed wildflowers picked from the hills of Oran to the Skaard soldiers, the greatest astride tall mounts.


    "Could these damn Wol women move any slower?" Leiffen asked. "And speaking of women." He leaned down to accept a flower from an Oran girl. Tipping his fur hat at her, he inquired, "Why don''t you come with us, love? We could use your beauty to melt the ice in Kadaar."


    The girl''s face exploded in a crimson blush.


    Bonn Skaard snickered as he slowly walked his horse behind the Wols'' bowed heads.


    "She''s in there somewhere," Tylla cried from the sidelines. "Carmelle!"


    "That''s her!" Rigel shouted, pointing at a pale, freckled face hovering above the Wols'' homespun shrouds.


    Tylla pushed into the gray mass, not caring whose foot she stepped on or whose ribs her sharp elbows prodded. Rigel and Jade followed behind, struggling to keep up.


    Carmelle''s tear-stained face lit up when she saw Tylla, whose coral gown and brightly shining jewels glowed in the dour sea of Wols. With an anguished cry, Carmelle embraced Tylla tightly. The cowl she wore slipped back, revealing a raw, shaven head.


    "Tylla," she cried. Sobbing onto the princess'' shoulder. She breathed in Tylla''s exotic perfume as if it were oxygen.


    "That''s enough!" A sharp voice punctured the crowd''s hum just as Genya Wol''s sharp stick struck Carmelle across the shoulders. Carmelle cried and sank to her knees.


    Tylla let go of Carmelle and pointed a shaking finger at Genya. "As princess of Oran, I command you not to strike my friend!"


    "I have dominion over the Wols, Princess Davadas," Genya said with calm assurance.


    "Not within the gates of my city!" Tylla retorted, her caramel-colored skin flushed with rage.


    A smirk alighted Genya''s face as she roughly pulled Carmelle to her feet. She took a few steps backward, her sharp eyes fixed on the princess, a handful of Carmelle''s shroud still clenched in her white fist. "We are no longer within your city gates, Princess," Genya said as the last Wol passed through the great open archway.


    Tylla stopped before the gate and watched helplessly as Genya dragged Carmelle away. When they reached Pendulum Road, Carmelle fell to the ground, a cloud of dirt spinning around her. She refused to move until Genya flogged her again with the thin stick.


    "No," Tylla cried, putting her hands over her ears to blot out the sound of Carmelle''s anguished cries.


    Rigel had been hanging back, but now he approached his weeping cousin. ¡°Come on, my sweet," Rigel said. Jabe was on the other side of her, and together, the young men led Tylla back to the palace and away from the waning crowd.


    At the gate''s entrance, just before the Skaards were about to pass through, a young guard ran breathlessly up to Bonn and grabbed hold of his stirrup.


    "What do you want?" Bonn asked impatiently. He had waited long enough to leave this rich but, in his eyes, empty city.


    "The king wishes to speak to you at once, Bonn Skaard."


    Bonn and Leiffen exchanged a look.


    "Alone," the guard added.

 Bonn Skaard

    Bonn Skaard''s second meeting with Scipio Davadas took place in the king''s private dining chamber, far from the earshot of any servant or palace guard. Before him, a sumptuous midday meal of seasoned meats, bread, and roasted vegetables was laid out on a narrow table before an open hearth. A low fire warmed the room. The queen was in attendance, playing the role of a gracious hostess as she poured spiced wine for the men.


    Bonn, his tall and muscular body perched awkwardly in a low chair, ate his fill but refused the wine. He wanted to keep his wits as sharp as the battle-ax resting against his chair. He listened to the king''s proposal with a divided mind. He was anxious to return to his embattled homeland, but here was his chance to negotiate for the reinforcements his army so desperately needed.


    "I can''t spare any of my men for this mission," Bonn slowly spoke as if choosing his words carefully. "As I told you before, the Thrades have grown in number and power." His gaze, blue as the center of a flame, burned into Scipio''s dark stare.


    "We don''t want your men," Hyperia said, reaching across the table to lay a cool white hand on top of Bonn''s rough, calloused one, "only you."


    There was a steely glint in the queen''s violet eyes shining like the edge of a knife. And something else that made the back of Bonn''s neck tickle. He recognized the blind ruthlessness he had seen on his enemies'' faces during close combat.


    Bonn slid his hand away from the queen''s velvety touch and stood. Now towering over the seated monarchs, the top of his blond head nearly touching the low ceiling, he gazed intently at the king and said, "I will rescue your princess on two conditions."


    The queen''s hands remained folded calmly on the wooden table, but her eyes flashed.


    "Yes, what are they?" King Scipio replied.


    "You will dispatch an army to Kadaar to join my men beyond the mountains."


    Scipio nodded. "Fifty of my men stand at the ready."


    "One hundred men," Bonn Skaard rejoined.


    Scipio rapped his dark knuckles on the table. "Done. What else?"


    "My partner and I require fresh mounts."


    "What partner?" Hyperia blurted.


    Bonn lowered his gaze at Hyperia. "You''ve met Leiffen Skaard. His magic will help you achieve your goal, my lady."


    "This mission is to be performed under the highest secrecy," insisted Hyperia in a quavering voice. "My sister''s life depends on it."


    Bonn nodded. "I understand."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Scipio stood, scraping his chair against the marble floor. "You''ll get my best horses and any weapons from my armory."


    Bonn picked up his ax and said, "This and my long blade are the only weapons I need."


    Hyperia stood and crossed to the Skaard warrior. Standing close enough to smell the cool air of Kadaar still clinging to his fur capelet, she ran her finger slowly down the edge of his ax''s blade. "This is a very interesting weapon," she said, gazing up at Bonn through a fringe of jet-black lashes. "This was forged during the Illymium reign of my people. I recognize the motifs carved on the handle from my home city."


    "Be careful, my lady." Bonn lowered the ax and rested its head on the floor. "My blade is very sharp."


    "I''m sure it is." The queen''s gaze locked on Bonn''s for a moment.


    "Let''s not tarry," Scipio said gruffly as he headed for the door. "To the stables now to choose your horses."


    Bonn nodded. Before the two men left the room, Bonn turned to address Hyperia. "There''s one more thing."


    "Yes?" the queen asked breathlessly, her white bosom rising in her low-cut gown.


    "Nargos Nazeer''s reputation has reached my corner of Ardelym. I don''t expect him to give up easily. Nazeer blood will be spilled."


    Hyperia''s pink lips glistened. "Do whatever you must do to return my sister to us safely."


    * * *


    Hyperia watched from her balcony as the setting sun made the Crimson Sea the color of blood and turned the white tops of the Kadaar Mountain range to golden crowns. A warm breeze fluttered her fluted silk gown around her bare legs.


    Scipio came up from behind, pressing his warm, hard body against her. She melted into his embrace. His large dark hands traveled from her waist to her breasts, caressing them gently.


    "My son is growing within you," Scipio whispered.


    "Yes, my lord," she answered breathlessly.


    "I don''t want to harm our child ..."


    She took one of his hands and pressed it between her legs, giving her consent in a prolonged sigh.


    Hyperia was still waiting for signs from her body to confirm the pregnancy, but her hope was fading with each day. If Scipio made love to her again, then perhaps... With bitterness, she recalled Niet Wol''s milky blind eyes that saw through to her deception, all the way into her empty womb.


    From the queen''s chamber balcony, Hyperia and Scipio watched Bonn Skaard and his companion, Leiffen, pass through Oran''s main gate. Bonn sat atop a silver stallion, Stellarion. At eighteen hands, the horse was the pride of the Davadas stable, while Leiffen rode a smaller but still powerful Roan gelding named Emberfall. Their saddlebags were packed with enough provisions to last the fortnight''s journey to Nazeera.


    "They are traveling by Pendulum Road?" Hyperia asked, her violet gaze fixed on the powerful Skaard warrior.


    "No," Scipio said, pulling her close. "They will ride along the coast and take the old mining route through the Crags."


    "But that will take much longer."


    "Yes," he sighed, "But they''ll avoid Nargos'' ambush that way. Come, wife."


    As Scipio Davadas guided his wife through the curtains and toward her bed, the queen''s lust heightened at the thought of Starlex being brought back to Oran with her virginity intact.


    Starlex will never bear a king or any child at all while she is once again under my palace roof. I will see to it!


    She had faith in the golden-haired warrior from the land of ice. He was a handsome man, and no one''s fool, especially no woman''s fool. She had even played the minx with him in front of her husband, but Bonn hadn''t taken the bait.


    A man I can''t easily seduce is a man who will always get my attention.


    She lay back on the bed, relaxing into the cool silk sheets. And as Scipio unfastened her belt and slowly peeled back the layers of her gown, she closed her violet eyes and imagined it was Bonn Skaard''s large rough hands touching her tender flesh, caressing her full breasts, and pressing down on top of her as she clawed his back and cried out.

 The Lower Depths

    A sharp rap at the chamber door woke her. Scipio rolled over gruffly. Hyperia crept out of bed and threw a silk robe over her nakedness.


    "Oh, it''s you," she whispered, gazing at the sharp, hawk-like face of Yewen Illymium. An advisor from her slaughtered parents'' household, Yewen had accompanied her to Oran after the siege of Mynimium. Although old and frail, he was one of few men living under the palace roofs whom the queen trusted completely.


    "I''m sorry to disturb you, my lady, but you wished to be informed ..."


    Hyperia slipped into the hallway and closed the door softly behind her.


    "Yes, what is it?" she whispered, brushing away a loose lock of hair from her face.


    Yewen fixed his violet gaze on his queen and said quietly, "Moranna Nazeer was apprehended on Pendulum Road. She''s been taken to the dungeon."


    A slow sigh escaped Hyperia''s lips. "I will meet you there shortly."


    She dipped back inside, taking a moment to confirm Scipio was still asleep, then dressed quickly and silently in a dark velvet gown to ward off the night''s chill. She left the chamber and moved surreptitiously down the hallway, her slippered feet making a soft patter on the marble floor through pools of torchlight.


    She traversed the narrow suspension bridge connecting the private living quarters to the main palace. The wind whipped her skirts around her, and black clouds scudded over the sky, obscuring the mother moon''s milky gaze.


    When she reached the main hallway, Hyperia picked up a flaming torch from a wall sconce before veering off into a narrow passageway. She followed a set of winding, spiral staircases four stories down to the palace''s lower depths. Each step brought a tang of dankness. Leaks dripping from the thick stone walls through layers of black mold slapped against the slate as she made her way carefully down the final turn of the stairs.


    She stepped down on the stone floor of the dungeon and brought her perfumed handkerchief to her nose to blot out the foul odor of human misery. A guard, alerted by Yewen Illymium of the queen''s arrival, stood stick straight at the entrance. Hyperia pushed past him and wound through the narrow walkway dividing the two rows of barred cells.


    When a filthy hand reached out through the iron bars, the guard turned and slammed it with his cudgel, sending the prisoner retreating to the darkened corner of his cell.


    "Mercy, My Queen," the condemned man muttered.


    Without a backward glance, Hyperia continued to the farthest end of the walkway where Moranna was confined. Outside the cell door, Yewen Illymium waited for Hyperia in a pool of torchlight. The guard placed a key in the lock and turned it with a heavy clank. The cell door creaked open on rusted hinges, and Hyperia stepped inside. The arc of her torchlight found her former maidservant in a sorry state. Moranna''s wrists were chained to the wall, her plump legs folded beneath her on a bed of filthy straw.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Moranna Nazeer," Hyperia said, her voice filled with loathing. "Did you really think your little trick could fool an Illymium?"


    Moranna''s eyelids fluttered open. Her body was bent and bruised, but her green eyes flashed with rage. "Did you really think yours could fool our god?"


    Hyperia''s fist shot out, catching the older woman in the jaw and knocking her head into the rough stone wall. An agonized moan escaped from Moranna''s bloody lips, causing the other prisoners to shake the bars of their cells and howl like wild dogs.


    "Shut her up!" Hyperia demanded, her shrill voice echoing off the thick dungeon walls.


    After a moment, two guards entered. One carried an iron mask, a device rarely used under Davadas'' liberal rule, and placed it on Moranna''s head while the other held her down. The neck screws were tightened until the woman''s screams became only muffled moans.


    "Leave us," Hyperia snapped.


    She waited until the guards'' footsteps faded, then, with only Yewen Illyminum standing by her side holding a torch, she addressed her captive once again.


    "Moranna Nazeer, I sentence you to die for treason against the royal house of Davadas."


    Hyperia knew it was mocking laughter and not fear that shook Moranna''s broken body. Hyperia struck her again, this time hitting low into Moranna''s soft gut.


    Moranna crumpled, her wrist manacles the only thing keeping her body from complete collapse.


    "Your sentence," Hyperia whispered, "shall be enacted immediately." She retrieved a small dagger from the folds of her gown and slowly heated the blade with the torch''s flame.


    "But there must be a proper trial, my lady," Yewen said. The torch trembled in his hand, scattering shadows about the grim cell. "That is Davadas law."


    Moranna''s eyes flashed at the old man with sudden desperate hope.


    "Did Davadas law help us, Yewen Illymium, when the Nazeers attacked our city, killed our people, and made slaves and whores out of those who remained? Have you forgotten, old friend?" Her gaze shifted between the dagger''s edge turning blue in the flame and Moranna''s green eyes shining through the slits in the iron mask.


    Yewen began to speak, stuttered, then stopped, his jowls trembling. He had held a position of high renown in his former city, but here he was nothing more than the queen''s minion¡ªa weak and ineffectual man, and at this moment, terribly afraid.


    "Despite the generosity of the Davadas people," Hyperia continued, her violet eyes glowing in the grim dark cell, "we Illyminums are strangers here in Oran. Reviled, disrespected. Even this fool," she cocked her head toward the prisoner, "who washed my soiled underclothes, thinks she is superior to me. I see it in her eyes. The Nazeers slaughtered us!" Her voice hit a note that sounded nearly like a scream. "And yet the Davadas people showed them mercy, and look how they repay it. In Oran, there are trials for criminals, but in Mynimium, we use different methods. Don''t we, old friend?" She shifted her gaze to Yewen.


    "But we are in Oran, my lady," Yewen whispered weakly.


    "We are, but in spirit, we are Illyminum. They say we are weak, but we are the people made in Illym''s image! And one day, my friend, we will return to rule all of Ardelym."


    Moranna moaned and rattled her chains.


    Hyperia removed the stiletto''s blade from the flame. "And now, Moranna Nazeer, I will blot out those green eyes of yours that mock me so." She took a step toward her prisoner, who now struggled desperately. "And when I am finished, I will cut out your slanderous tongue."


    Yewen Illyminum held the torch as steadily as he could and muttered old Mynimium prayers to blot out the sound of rattling chains and muffled screams.

 The Red Hills

    Starlex could tell from the dawn light filtering through the muslin hood the Nazeers had placed over her head that they were moving south, on Pendulum Road. Heat rose from the baked ground with each step of the horse she rode, her wrists bound to the saddle''s pommel.


    There was little air inside the hood. Her lips were chapped from the desert dryness. It had been hours since a flagon of water had been shoved under the hood so she could drink. The horse''s slow gait had rocked her in and out of sleep as the caravan of Nazeer''s soldiers and citizens traveled throughout the night, but now she was wide awake and frightened.


    She guessed the Nazeers were taking her to Nazeera beyond Crytombe Crags.


    But for what reason?


    Fatigue, hunger, and thirst had mellowed the initial panic she felt when she had been snatched from the shores of Oran, but now her fear rose like the heat from the desert floor. She had expected Scipio to send out an army immediately. Or perhaps her good friend, Flenn Illyminum, would have whipped up some magic storm to aid her escape.


    When no intervention appeared, Starlex began to despair. With each clop of her tired mount''s reluctant steps on the dry, dusty road, she folded in on herself, waiting only for the small relief provided by a sip of water or a mouthful of bread.


    * * *


    At the front of the slow-moving caravan, Nargos Nazeer sat astride his chestnut stallion, a mount too tall for his squat figure. He cast his bloodshot eyes toward the red hills jutting high into the morning sky. He had expected an immediate response from Scipio Davadas. Most of the Nazeer guards were stationed in the rear, prepared with sharpened spears to turn and fight. But when no response was forthcoming, the old Nazeer began to feel cagey. He rubbed the red stubble shot with gray on his chin. He had sent a falcon to his city with word that he was bringing a bride back for his eldest son, Dizzo, and that preparation should be made for the wedding and feast.


    I''d marry her myself, he thought, turning in his saddle to gaze back at the captured Illymium princess. The skirt of her soiled gown was pushed up nearly to her waist, exposing shapely white legs bouncing on either side of the horse''s girth. Blood ran to his groin as he considered it.


    No, Dizzo must marry her. But that doesn''t mean I can''t be the one to sire the next great king!


    Through his lustful thoughts, his suspicions grew. Nargos eyed the red hills, looming higher with each bend in the road. The day appeared too quiet, the sky too blue and cloudless. He knew now that rather than send an army, Scipio Davadas had deployed a stealthier tactic.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    We''re moving too slow because of all these foolish women and their carriages filled with maids and clothes. I need to get that Illymium bitch within the city walls straight away.


    Putting two fingers in his mouth, Nargos let out a long, dry whistle. Four of his guards rode up on either side of his horse, their swords and shields clanking against their studded saddles.


    "You," Nargos barked at the group, "take the girl and go ahead. Ride as hard as you can until you reach the city."


    "Yes, my lord," the lead guard replied.


    "Let her have some water and food first," Nargos said, sliding his eyes back to the red hills. The sun cleared the jagged peaks and radiated down with merciless heat. The only shade provided was a large bird flying overhead, its shadow circling the brigade. "I don''t want her dying on the way."


    * * *


    When Flenn Illyminum had received the news of Starlex''s capture, he had retreated to the tower room and immediately sent out Raki for reconnaissance.


    Having returned to the tower study, Flenn entered a deep meditative state. Lying on a tufted divan, Glenn traveled with Raki all night along Pendulum Road by means of trans-omniscience sight where his consciousness melded with the great, purple-feathered bird''s to the point where he could see what the bird saw and control its flight.


    Flenn spotted the caravan of Nazeers making slow progress down the southern fork of Pendulum Road. Raki made several low circles over the Red Hill, while Flenn gazed through the bird''s yellow eyes in search of the princess.


    When she wasn''t there, Flenn flew with Raki farther south until he spotted Starlex, hoodwinked and bound, riding astride a horse flanked by Nazeer warriors. They were running their horses to death as they entered Crytombe Crags.


    Flenn used the hot air from the desert to soar Raki high above the rocky peaks and then head north. Flenn gazed down with wonder as they glided over the Great Vulcan, a volcano nearly the height of Oran tower. Raki flew high to avoid the cloud of black smoke pouring from its mouth. When Flenn looked down, they saw a lava pit, bright as the sun, churning within.


    Instructing the bird with his mind to fly past it, Flenn, at last, spotted Bonn and Leiffen, leading their mounts along a treacherous path deep within the Crags.


    As Flenn adjusted Raki''s wings to head east along the red-rimmed coastline, Flenn exited from the trance. His violet eyes popped open, and he was once again in the tower room study, supine on the divan.


    Bonn and Leiffen are making good time, Flenn thought, groggy from the magic. But they are up against a powerful adversary. I will do what magic I can to aid in the princess''s recovery. But why was she taken?


    Flenn had meditated on this question for days, and he still didn''t have a satisfying answer. The queen''s insistence that it had something to do with reclaiming Mynimium seemed absurd. Scipio Davadas would never sacrifice his claim on the ancient city for the life of his sister-in-law. It had to be for some other reason.


    Flenn reached out to the small end table and picked up his pipe. Pressing Mynimium tobacco, spiced with clove, into the pipe, he gazed at the azure sky through the gap in the curtains and opened his mind to all possibilities.


    It has something to do with Illym''s prophecy and Moranna Nazeer''s subsequent disappearance, Flenn thought, taking a pull on the pipe and watching the smoke billow through the temperate air. And what of those screams I heard sounding up from the pulley car shaft in the middle of the night? And the following morning, did I not see Yewen Illymium returning with an empty skiff to the lower canal? When I questioned him, he was evasive. Scared.

 Tylla

    5. From the Illymium Codex


    Guarding the God Gate are the Lex Azarax, beastly relatives of the Thrades in the north. With their thorny, dark armored flesh and black-plumed helmets, they stand in silent sentinel atop the black stone citadel with their crossbows and obsidian-tipped arrows at the ready. The rotting corpses impaled on the wall''s iron spikes are grim reminders of anyone who dares to penetrate the sacred Weir.


    Chapter 19


    As promised, one hundred troops were deployed in four warships from Oran harbor en route to Kadaar to join forces with the remaining Skaards fighting against the Thrades and Nazeer renegades.


    Scipio continued with the day-to-day business of ruling Oran while waiting anxiously for news from Nazeera about Starlex''s recapture.


    After raging at her mother for days had proved fruitless, Tylla remained holed up in her private chamber, refusing meals and only opening her door to Rigel and Jabe.


    "We should just ride out to the Weir and steal Carmelle back," Jabe suggested. He and Rigel sat on the foot of Tylla''s bed, gazing down at their friend with sympathy as she lay beneath an ivory silk sheet staring at the ceiling with tear-stained eyes.


    "As if you could get away from your university for more than a day," Rigel griped.


    Jabe bit his tongue. He knew Rigel was unhappy with his decision to move out of the palace to live at the university, four leagues beyond the citadel. But he could no longer tolerate the hostility coming from the Nazeer servants, whose darted looks implored him to join them in their hatred against the Davadas household.


    "The Wols are more protected than anyone." Tylla sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes. "We would never get past the Lex Azarax."


    "She''s right," Rigel said. "They''re the most ruthless killers in all of Ardelym, aside from the Thrades."


    Rigel had never seen a Lex Azarax, but he had read about them and saw their frightening illustrations in Flenn''s books from the tower room library.


    Turning sympathetic eyes to his cousin, Rigel said, "Carmelle is lost, Tylla."


    "And so is Starlex." Tylla sprang from her bed, crossed her chamber and padded barefoot onto the balcony.


    "I thought Starlex went to the country," Jabe said.


    "You don''t believe that, do you? Mother lies about everything."


    Rigel face flashed with concern. He had bought the story about Starlex visiting Scipio''s family in the north, but it was odd for his cousin to leave without saying goodbye.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Tylla''s lips curved into a smirk as she gazed down at the flowering garden blooms. The scent of pink roses bursting with life mingled sweetly with her spicy Mynimium perfume. "You would be surprised at the lies my mother can tell. But I don''t think she would harm her own sister, not unless she had good reason to. All I know is I need to get as far away from Mother as possible.¡±


    "How do you plan to do that?" Jade asked.


    "Tylla and I could always get married.¡± Rigel picked up the long, coiling braid from her shoulder and twirled it between two fingers. "We''re only distant cousins."


    Tylla swatted him away.


    "Know any prospects? Besides Rigel, that is." Jabe made a mocking face at his lover.


    Tylla turned her back on the garden view and moved thoughtfully through the curtains. "There is someone."


    "Who?"


    Intrigued, the young men followed her back inside.


    "Roland Davadas." She kneeled and pulled a gilded box from beneath her bed.


    She sat on the bed with Rigel and Jabe on either side and opened the box, releasing a scent of rich, masculine cologne.


    "What''s that?"


    "Love letters," Tylla said with a sigh. She held up vellum scrolls bound with red ribbons. "All from Roland Davadas. He is the son of Dolceto Davadas, one of my father''s men."


    "Is he rich?" Jabe picked up one of the scrolls and looked through it like a spyglass.


    Tylla snatched the scroll from his hand. "Not royal, but certainly rich. He''s been in love with me for years." She stood and moved toward her small writing desk.


    "What are you doing?" Rigel asked.


    "Writing back to him, of course," Tylla said. She lit the candle on her desk and dipped a sharpened reed into a pot of black ink. "I hope he isn''t already promised, but even so, he''ll drop whomever it is like a hot coal."


    Jabe and Rigel lolled on the bed with arms draped over each other, amused at Tylla''s sudden determination.


    "But do you really want to marry him, Tylla?" Rigel asked, his nose buried in Jabe''s thick auburn hair that still smelled of sweetgrass from his morning ride.


    Tylla''s brow knitted as she bent over the letter she was composing. "Do I want to marry him? No, of course not. But if I do marry him, I''ll be free of Mother."


    "If you ask me, you''ll be trading one yoke for another," Rigel said, concern etched on his youthful features.


    "It appears these are my only options." She paused from writing her letter and turned sad eyes toward her companions. "I used to think I could do what I wanted, that I could live with Carmelle on our own private island. Now I realize what folly that was. I will marry Roland Davadas if he will have me." She ran the wax bar through the candle flame and sealed the letter with the Davadas crest.


    The evening bell rang in the outdoor courtyard and echoed through the balcony door.


    "Jabe," she held out the scroll to her friend, "will you ride out to the country and deliver this?"


    "Of course," he said softly.


    "And what can I do?" Rigel hopped off the bed and stretched his lithe limbs toward the ceiling painted with scenes of stars and moons.


    Tylla smiled sadly and said, "You can help me plan my wedding."


    He extended his hand to her. "We''ll discuss it over dinner. I''m starving, and you need your strength."


    "What about me?" Jabe said, waving the scroll through the air to dry the sealing wax. "May I deliver your letter after dinner? I need my strength, too."


    "Of course," Tylla laughed and stood up from her desk. Threading her hands through both mens'' arms, she walked them to do the door. "We all need our strength."


    "And so does Starlex," Rigel added sadly. "Wherever she is."


    Rigel''s concern for his star-kissed cousin had reached a breaking point. Without telling his other companions his plans, he vowed to visit with Flenn Illyminium immediately after dinner. Perhaps the old mage could shed some of his illumination on the mystery of the missing princess.

 An Unexpected Guest

    Hyperia awoke in a foul mood. The moons had waned to slim crescents in the morning sky, and there was still no word from Bonn Skaard concerning Starlex''s rescue.


    A lot could have happened during that time. Perhaps the impatient Nargos had made her his wife along the road, or maybe he had taken her without the dignity of that bonding ceremony. The thought of an Illymium princess being defiled by such a man set her teeth on edge, but worse was the thought that Starlex would conceive a child. Worse still, Hyperia''s moon blood had started that morning, confirming she was not pregnant.


    She was careful to burn the stained gown and sheets in the fireplace before the new maidservant, a simple-minded farm girl named Simmy, discovered them and blabbed to the other household servants. As the sun rose, chasing shadows across the marble floor, Hyperia lingered in her bed-chamber until mid-day when Simmy arrived with her tea to inform her that Scipio''s younger sister, Roselynn, had arrived at the palace for an impromptu visit.


    That''s just like that fool to miss our Zar celebration and to just show up out of the blue with no word.


    "Please tell Lady Roselynn I will be down to meet her shortly." Hyperia took a sip of tea and added, "I will attend to my own bath and dressing today."


    Simmy bowed nervously and left her lady''s chamber.


    Later, when Hyperia swept into the inner court to greet her sister-in-law, she wore a loose-fitting gown of a woman in the early stages of pregnancy. She smiled warmly at Scipio''s sister and held out her hands to greet her as if she were her best friend.


    Roselynn, looked wan, her eyes red. She was a sweet but emotional woman. Her husband, Tynnire Davadas, an army commander, had been killed in a routine scouting mission when his small boat capsized during a sudden squall on the Crimson Sea. That was six moons ago, and since then, Roselynn had remained alone and childless in her large country house in east Oran. Roselynn had grown plump in her grief, and her usually vibrant dark complexion had turned sallow.


    Hyperia wondered if she were ill and hoped this visit wasn''t about her wanting to move into the palace. Scipio had always been indulgent of his younger sister, but Hyperia found her silly, gossipy, and prone to histrionics¡ªthe last thing she needed right now. Scipio joined the women for their mid-day meal. They stuck to the usual banal topics while they dined, but when Scipio broached the subject of Hyperia''s impending motherhood, Roselynn burst into tears.


    Scipio called for more wine to calm his emotional sister. After he left the table, awkwardly, to attend to his imperial business, Roselynn began to unburden herself to Hyperia in a fit of sputtering sobs.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Not here, my dear," Hyperia said, her violet eyes scanning the garden below for any lurking interlopers. "We must speak privately."


    When they were safely tucked away behind the thick, pink marble walls of Hyperia''s sitting room, Roselynn told her sister-in-law the reason for her visit and her hysterics.


    "I''m with child," Roselynn whispered, her nose dripping.


    Hyperia dropped her eyes to Roselynn''s flat belly. "How far along?"


    "I ...I ..." A shuddering sob cut off Roselynn''s words.


    "It''s not your husband''s child?" Hyperia asked, her grip tightening on Roseylnn''s wrist.


    Roselynn moaned and threw herself face down into Hyperia¡¯s lap, staining her silk gown with anguished tears.


    Hyperia gently shoved her sister-in-law aside, crossed the room, and returned with a large goblet of wine. "Drink this, my dear."


    Hyperia waited calmly for Roselynn''s hysterics to wane. Sitting next to her sister-in-law, she patiently rubbed her back. When the glass was empty, Roselynn told her what happened.


    She had hired a man to do work in her country home after her husband had died.


    "Who is he?" Hyperia insisted.


    "His name ..." Roselynn sobbed. "I can''t bear to say it." A fresh torrent of tears exploded on her face. "He ... he ...raped me."


    Hyperia embraced Roselynn, soothing her with cooing sympathy. She doubted the rape story. It was obvious that Roselynn had taken a lover out of loneliness and had been careless.


    "I demand to know the offender''s name," Hyperia said, breaking the embrace to hold Roselynn at arm''s length. "We will have him arrested immediately."


    "No!" Roselynn insisted, verging on hysterics. "No one can know."


    Hyperia fought against the smile tugging at her lips. She had her answer. There had been no rape. "If you won''t tell me his name, will you at least tell me where he''s from? What if he returned and attacked you again?" The Queen¡¯s voice trembled with feigned concern.


    Roselynn blew her nose into a handkerchief and replied bitterly, "He won''t return. He''s gone back to Terragonian Bluff."


    A gasp escaped from Hyperia''s lips despite her effort to control it. ¡°An Illyminum?" she whispered.


    Roselynn shut her dark eyes tightly and nodded. "He needed work, and I took pity on him. He¡ªhe was tall and slender but strong¡ªand handsome ..." She stopped, overcome with sobs.


    "Don''t worry, my dear," Hyperia said, gently patting Roselynn''s arm. "I will take care of everything."


    "H-how?" Roselynn looked up hopefully.


    Hyperia thought fast. "Does anyone else know?"


    Roselynn shook her head.


    "Good. You must tell no one. Spend a few days with us and then return to your house in the country. Let your household staff go."


    When Roselynn began to protest, Hyperia brought a finger to her lips. "I will send a good maidservant to attend to you. I will visit you every month to take care of your needs, and when the time comes for the birth," she tightened her grip on Roselynn''s arm, "I will be there with you, and I''ll make sure the babe goes to a good home. Your name will remain pure, and afterward, we will find a new husband for you in Oran."


    Roselynn sighed with relief and closed her eyes. Hyperia stroked her smooth dark cheek until her sister-in-law, at last, gave in to exhaustion and reclined on the bed. Soon, she was sleeping.


    Illym has shown me mercy once again. This fool''s child, half Davadas and half Illyminum shall be my child.

 Crytombe Crags

    "Easy, my friend." Leiffen Skaard''smount, Emberfall, nearly skidded down the side of a cliff in a spill of reddish gravel. He held on tightly to the reins.


    He and Bonn Skaard had been leading their horses for hours, trying to find a path from the peaks of Crytombe Crags into the heart of Nazeera. They had watched from a plateau as the soldiers took the hood-winked princess inside the city gate at mid-day.


    "We missed our chance on the road," Leiffen said. He stopped, leaned against a boulder, and took a long pull on the flagon of water. The men of the north weren''t accustomed to the bright sun, the waves of relentless heat rising from the mineral-rich rocks.


    "They had the advantage," Bonn Skaard said with a sigh. "Four against two."


    Leiffen nodded, thinking he could have used his magic orbs to clock one, maybe two, but he deferred to his friend''s superior battle experience.


    Bonn ran two fingers through his beard as he gazed pensively at walled Nazeera, nestled deep within the Crags. At the center of the city, the duke''s palace loomed with jutting towers so high they appeared about to topple into a shower of red bricks and dust. The structure had many additions, reflecting the inhabitants'' burgeoning wealth but no grace in their design. Similar chaos was evident in the city streets, a random maze cutting through buildings stacked on top of other buildings with little cohesion or logic.


    Beyond the walls, Nazeer mines smoked from deep within the Crags. The mines were the source of the Nazeers'' wealth and their despair as the environment was hot and brutal. Except for the gardens cultivated with great effort within the citadel, the arid city was nearly completely dependent on Oran''s rich farms for food, which they purchased at inflated costs. In the near distance, Great Vulcan guarded the city like a hostile sentry.


    "Folks say a dragon lives inside its bowels," Leiffen said as he and Bonn Skaard paused to take in the view, allowing their horses to rest.


    "Heard that, too," Bonn grunted.


    "Her name''s Quetzex, and she''s the meanest wench that ever was." Leiffen''s violet eyes, round as saucers, drifted from the volcano''s rocky base to its smoldering peak. "Meaner than Merryan Skaard was after I broke her heart in old Kadaar."


    Bonn grunted again and said, "Watch where you walk, or you''ll go over the edge."


    Leiffen shifted his gaze and gasped at the sheer drop to the lava-lined canyon below. "They say Quetzex blows once every Zar, that the old dragon bitch emerges with her empty belly rumbling. They say she has pups, too, a litter of them. They all follow their mother out of the volcano and start eating their fill."


    "Yes, but they only eat Illymiums," Bonn Skaard said.


    Skeiffen face blanched beneath the layer of red dust coating his skin. "But ... but ..."


    "I won''t tell if you won''t."


    Leiffen poured some water in his palm and gave it to the horses, then rubbed his damp hands over his face. "What''s the plan, boss?"Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Bonn Skaard took a long pull on the flagon, wiped his beard, and said. "We have two choices. We either wait for the rest of the caravan to arrive and try to blend in." He thought for a moment. "Or¡ª"


    Leiffen regarded him with a cocked eyebrow. "Or?"


    "Every city has more than one entry point. The ore from the mines is brought in somehow. Look." He pointed to a large foundry within the city walls. Black smoke poured out of its stacks. "That metalwork is shipped out through the front gate, but the ore comes in through the back. My idea is we go find another way in and then make our way to the palace."


    "Very good, sir," Leiffen said. Casting a dark gaze at the smoldering volcano, he added, "I suppose we are heading toward that lovely thing."


    Bonn Skaard gave his companion a crooked half-smile and said, "You suppose correctly. Let''s get in before Nargos Nazeer arrives with the rest of his men. We only have a few hours."


    * * *


    The black hood wasn''t removed from Starlex''s head until Starlex was inside a rock-walled chamber within the Nazeer palace. The room was located high in one of the many towers. Through an open balcony, she could see the jumble of Nazeera streets and houses stretching beyond the citadel wall to the Crags, their slopes glowing fiery red in the setting sun.


    "I wouldn''t jump if I were you," squawked a voice.


    Starlex turned and faced her jailer, a squat, thick-limbed middle-aged woman with a hard-lined face.


    "I ... I wasn''t going to jump," Starlex said hoarsely, her mouth dry, "Just admiring your lovely city." An uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm crept into the princess¡¯ voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m Jynud Nazeer," the woman said, motioning with a ruddy hand for Starlex to come to her.


    The princess obeyed, walking on wobbly legs toward the older woman. She was tired from the long journey, hungry beyond measure, and filthy.


    Laying rough hands on her, the woman ripped the dust-coated gown from Starlex''s body.


    "What do you want with me?" Starlex asked, covering her nakedness with trembling hands.


    "No questions," Jynud said. "In there."


    Starlex padded barefoot across the stone floor to another small chamber, dimly lit with flaming sconces. A bath had been drawn. She stepped into it. The water was hot, nearly scalding.


    "Clean yourself," the dour woman said, tossing a rough sponge into the bath. "Wash your hair. Between your legs. Everywhere."


    Starlex flushed with shame and anger.


    Jynud smirked. "I''ll be back. Don''t try to escape. The guards at the door would love to have a piece of you."


    Holding back tears and anger, Starlex did what she was told and dutifully scrubbed the red dust from her white skin. Her baths at home were sweetly perfumed. Here, the water was hard and smelled of minerals. Starlex had just stepped out of the cooling bathwater and was reaching for a towel when the door to the chamber opened abruptly, and her female jailer entered.


    "Get out of the tub," Jynud barked.


    Starlex heard a voice bellowing from the hallway. "I demand to see my bride!"


    "It''s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding," snapped Jynud as she barred the door with her thick frame.


    "What do I care?" the young man clapped back. Shoving Junud aside, hemarched imperiously into the bathing chamber.


    Starlex stood on the stone floor, dripping wet and clutching the towel to her nakedness.


    Dizzo Nazeer, Nargos''s eldest son, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the princess. He was far from handsome. His hair was red and thick and despite his puffed-up chest and shoulders, he was short, squat, and thick-fingered like his father. But his dull hazel eyes lacked the old man''s spark and keen intelligence.


    ¡°I like to see what I¡¯m getting," rasped Dizzo with an ugly laugh. He reached out and roughly yanked the towel from Starlex''s grip, tossing it across the room.


    He gazed at her for several beats. Then his open mouth twisted into a wide smile.


    "I can''t believe it," he said. "A real, live Illyminum princess. And all for me! Can''t we marry right away?"


    Jynud stood in the doorway with a disapproving scowl. "You must wait until your father arrives. We must prepare your bride. Now scoot!"


    Dizzo''s eyes floated up and down Starlex''s body slowly and with growing admiration. "But I like her just the way she is."

 Tears and Resolutions

    Roland Davadas responded to Tylla''s letter immediately. He was not promised to another, he assured her, and if she would allow it, he wished to speak to her parents at the earliest convenience.


    "What have I done?" Tyler moaned when she read Roland¡¯s message, dropping the scroll in her lap.


    Rigel plucked a pink rose from the palace garden where they were enjoying their afternoon tea. Threading it through Tylla¡¯s dark hair, he said, "You did what you had to do. Short of marrying me, you have no other choice. You can''t stay here, not with ..." He cast anxious eyes to the queen''s balcony and sat down next to Tylla on the stone bench. "I''m sad Jabe had to leave, but he''s safer in the country. Nazeers aren''t too popular in Oran these days."


    "Yes, I''ve noticed," Tylla distractedly replied. She rolled up the scroll tightly and retied the red ribbon around it. "But how can I give myself to a man I don''t love?" She stood and walked over to a bed of purple lilies and ran her fingers gently over the tender blooms. "What about Carmelle? I can''t just abandon her, Rigel."


    Rigel rose and trailed after her. "You don''t have to. Marrying Roland Davadas is the first part of the plan.¡± His voice was gentle. ¡°It will not only get you out from under your parents¡¯ rule, but you will also have your own household, your own servants to do your bidding, and I will happily be a guest at your house. You must resolve yourself to do this. It''s the only way."


    Tylla turned to face him. "And Carmelle?"


    "That''s the second part of the plan. In less than a year''s time, the royal family will be traveling to the Weir to witness the God Gate opening. We will all be there," he lifted Tylla''s chin with thumb and forefinger, "and so will Carmelle. By then, I will have all the details worked out."


    "But how is any of this fair to Roland Davadas?"


    Rigel hugged her tightly and whispered, "We all must sacrifice something for love." He was thinking about Jabe. Because of the tension with the Nazeers, he had sent his lover back to the country with a pile of books from the palace library and a kiss on his lips. He planned to ride out and visit him soon.


    Tylla nodded solemnly. She would broach the subject of Roland Davadas to her parents over dinner. She knew they would be pleased with her choice.


    * * *


    From high in Oran Tower, Flenn Illymium watched Tylla and Rigel walk arm in arm from the garden to the shaded colonnade. Flenn detected sadness in both their young forms.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    A caw distracted his reverie. He turned to see Raki flapping her wings from her perch, her feathers shimmering like mica in the bright afternoon light.


    Flenn reached out to stroke her and said, "Patience, my friend."


    The old mage had spent a week creating a magic potion that would allow Raki to make the extended trip to Nazeera with Flenn as her omniscient companion. Flenn was still confused as to why the princess was captured in the first place. Certainly, there were better ways to find a bride for one''s son than to risk war with an already prickly adversary. Flenn knew there had to be more to the story, knew there had to be more to Illym''s prophecy. And what of the sudden disappearance of Moranna Nazeer?


    Well, Flenn thought, shaking the worry offhis ancient shoulders. One thing at a time. I don''t know about the rest of the Davadas household, but getting princess Starlex back safe and sound is my top priority.


    Flenn swallowed half of the potion, a purple iridescent liquid made from an ancient alchemical formula recorded in one of the grimoires of old Mynimium. Then they held up the vial to Raki''s beak. And after the bird had drunk, Flenn closed his eyes, stroked Raki''s feathers, and chanted in ancient Illymium, "Omi oo lai. Omi mio saka. Zibaka ka me NA!"


    Raki took off in the air with a shrieking caw, flapping her wings so hard that Flenn''s long white hair blew back from his face. The enormous bird flew from the balcony, girded the great tower once, and soared over the city and citadel walls.


    The magic potion worked and soon Flenn was flying along with Raki, looking down from the dizzying height. Flenn would discover what had happened to Princess Starlex in Nazeera and report back to the king and queen.


    * * *


    Hyperia was more than happy with Tylla''s choice of Roland Davadas. King Scipio, who was loathed to bequeath his daughter to any man, realized she was no longer a child. If she had to marry, there could be no better choice than his head henchman''s son. The family dinner, which included Rigel and Roselynn (her mood considerably lifted after her private talk with Hyperia), turned into a night of celebration. Word was sent to Roland inviting him and his family to dine the following night along with other dignitaries.


    My fate is sealed, Tylla thought as she lay in her soft bed that night. She gazed out through her open balcony at the mother moon with her daughter peeking shyly out from behind her. Alone in her misery, she let the tears flow freely. Roland Davadas was a fine young man. She hoped they could at least be good friends throughout their marriage, but she didn''t love him. And the thought of offering up her body to any man felt alien to her, an awful violation. She hoped Roland would be understanding, but she knew she would be expected to have children.


    She turned her face away from the violet moonlight to hide her shame from the mother moon''s judgment.


    Great Illym, she prayed silently through her tears. You have given me so much, and I am grateful, but please let Carmelle know that I haven''t abandoned her.


    Tylla shuddered with a deep sob. Please let her know that I will come to her when I can. Tell her not to give up hope.

 The Great Vulcan

    From the Illymium Codex


    From deep within the bowels of the Great Vulcan, lives the ancient dragon Quetzex, as old as Ardelym herself. Every Zar she stirs from her slumber to remind the citizens that they are interlopers on her domain. And every man and every beast, whatsoever his rank, become equal when they are turned to ash by her fiery breath.


    Chapter 23 - The Great Vulcan


    The path dropped steeply, and the men stopped talking to concentrate on leading their horses safely down the jagged slope. When they reached the bottom of the hill, the ground leveled and the path widened. But beyond the rocky edge, the precipitous drop remained. They stopped to drink water, sharing the last of their flagons'' contents with their thirsty mounts.


    "How can anyone live in such a place?" Leiffen asked, removing his cap and using it to mop the sweat off his brow. "It''s like Illym''s inferno, where he sends all the lost souls, except he doesn''t need to send them anywhere. The lost souls are already here. No wonder those Nazeer bastards are mean and curt and¡ª "


    "Watch out," gruffed Bonn. "Here come two of those Nazeer bastards now."


    Two Nazeer guards moved toward them as fast as their short legs would carry them. Their swords clanked against their copper studded belts. Their gauntleted hands clutched sharpened pikes.


    Bonn Skaard''s hand firmly gripped the scrolled handle of his ax. His shield was in his left hand, and his long blade was at the ready in its leather scabbard at his hip.


    Leiffen shuffled the leather bag from his shoulder and reached inside.


    "What are you doing in these parts, Skaards?" one of the Nazeer guards spat out.


    "We heard there was a wedding," Leiffen said, lifting an orb from his pack. ¡°We thought this old ball would make a lovely present. What to you think?¡±


    The other Nazeer guard stepped forward, teeth clenched, and uttered, "I''ll send you a personal invitation." He pulled the sword from his belt and charged Bonn Skaard, the other making a beeline for Leiffen.


    Nazeer warriors were known to aim low, avoiding the heads of their enemies while aiming for the bowels, the groin, or the back of the leg where they could strike fast and fatally, leaving their adversary to bleed out while they moved on to their next victim.


    Bonn blocked the first blow with his shield. The Nazeer struck hard, denting the embossed bronze. Using the advantage of his height, Bonn thrust his shield forward, sending the Nazeer guard tumbling to the ground. The guard recovered at once and made quick jabs at Bonn''s legs with a drawn dagger, its point grazing Bonn''s flesh as he hopped backward onto a rock.


    With a raucous battle cry, Bonn leaped from the rock, clanging the Nazeer''s helmeted head with the boss of his shield. The Nazeer''s short legs spread into a split as he landed face-first into the red dirt.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    The other Nazeer guard had Leiffen cornered against the side of a rock wall. Leiffen removed one of the silver orbs and tossed it in the air. It spiraled around the Nazeer''s head in a silver cyclone, mesmerizing the guard for a moment before he reached for hissword, giving Leiffen a long enough pause to hurl himself into the air.


    Bonn whirled in time to see Leiffen performing an aerial somersault in an attempt to dodge the Nazeer''s slicing blade. Leiffen landed steps away from the assault as the orb exploded in a bright flash before the Nazeer''s face.


    As the Nazeer blindly stumbled forward, Leiffen sent him over the rocky edge with a swift kick in the ass. Leiffen cupped his hand to his ear and cringed at the sound of the inevitable thud following a long, fading scream.


    After a good laugh and a moment to catch their breaths, Bonn and Leiffen stripped the remaining Nazeer warrior of his weapons and continued down the path where they discovered the guards'' horses draped with green cloaks.


    Leiffen fingered the wool cloth decorated with a dragon rising from an exploding volcano embroidered in gold thread. "If we were to disguise ourselves as Nazeer guards, perhaps we could slip into the palace undetected."


    Bonn stroked his thick beard and nodded. He was thinking the same thing.


    * * *


    Starlex stood in the center of the room that had become her prison while Jynud Nazeer attended her. The jailer''s red and calloused hands laced Starlex into a gown of emerald velvet edged with gold embroidery that would have been beautiful if it were not a symbol of her further imprisonment.


    After she had been tightly encased in the gown, Jyund brought the captured princess to the vanity table and went to work on her hair, roughly gathering handfuls of her long, silver tresses and twisting them into tight braids that pulled painfully at her scalp.


    "We want you looking beautiful for your groom," Jynud Nazeer said snidely through the ivory hairpins clamped in her teeth. The dour woman had been Starlex''s only companion during her days of captivity. She brought the Illyminium princess her meals and allowed her one hour a day to sit on the balcony, during which time Starlex observed the city with its thick smoky haze hanging over the crowded streets and the Great Vulcan looming in the distance. Scanning the horizon, she searched desperately for any sign from Oran, musing sadly how she was confined to a place where the air was so thick and so foul, she couldn¡¯t even see the stars at night. No wonder the Nazeer people lacked all imagination. And now, she was to be married to one?


    "Why am I being married to this Dizzo Nazeer?" Starlex asked Jynud after her hair was arranged high on her head with pins of emeralds woven throughout.


    "It''s not your business to ask why," came from the gruff reply.


    Finding strength within her she didn''t know she possessed, Starlex asked, "And what if I refuse?"


    The answer came in a hard slap across the side of her head. "Marry Dizzo Nazeer or marry the executioner''s blade." Jynad raised her ruddy hand again for a second strike. "Now, should I rouge your other cheek to match?"


    Starlex trembled, shook her head.


    As Jynud moved away to retrieve the green velvet slippers Starlex was to wear, the princess peered woefully at her reflection in the glass. She had often dreamed of the day when she would be married, but this was far from her sweet imaginings of a handsome groom, a man of great strength but also kindness, someone to whom she could give all the love that was soaring in her heart.


    She felt the tears of despair welling up in her eyes, but she controlled them, knowing they would only inspire more abuse from her sadistic jailer. She looked more deeply into the glass, trying to locate the person within the image who would guide her through this ordeal.


    In the mirror''s reflection, she watched a shadow pass the balcony window. Startled, Starlex spun on her stool in time to spot a giant bird with a long black beak and purple feathers shimmering along its wide wingspan. Resisting the urge to run to the balcony window, she turned back to the mirror and watched coyly in the glass. The giant bird flew past again as if circling the prison tower where she was confined. Her heart thrilled. There could be no doubt.


    Raki!

 A Midnight Wedding

    After donning the green cloaks of the Nazeer warriors, Bonn and Leiffen rode their horses down the mining path toward the back gate of Nazeera. As luck would have it, most of the stone cottages they passed were shuttered, their steps freshly swept, and their front doors bolted. No doubt the citizens living outside the city wall had already made their way to the palace for the impending royal wedding.


    Knowing time was running out, Bonn Skaardbrought the silver stallion to a gallop, trying to keep his weapons hidden beneath the flapping green Nazeer robe. Leiffen rode beside him, wondering how soon he and Bonn¡¯s great height in comparison to the squat Nazeers would give away their ruse. He kept one silver orb tucked in the palm of his hand just in case they were accosted again.


    As they approached the back gate, they saw several Nazeer guards on high alert with sharp pikes gripped in their hands.


    "Looks like old Nargos isn''t taking any chances," Leiffen muttered.


    "I don''t think we''ll get past them," Bonn said.


    "I think you''re right, my friend."


    Bonn cocked his head to the right at a fork in the road, and they took off in a cloud of red dust before the guards noticed their approach. Night had fallen on Nazeera. The two moons filtered violet light through the sky¡¯s fixed smoky haze.


    They trotted for a half-mile down the rutted road, then Bonn brought his horse to a stop. Leiffen did the same.


    "Wait here for a moment," Bonn said to Leiffen. He dismounted Stellarion and stepped into a field. Tall prickly grass, dry as thin bones, lashed at his bare legs, opening the small wounds he sustained from the Nazeer guards¡¯ attack.


    He reached the citadel wall, a scabrous uneven edifice of rock and red clay bricks reflecting the inhabitants'' impatient natures. Considering the Nazeers were notoriously short in stature as well as temper, the wall was not high. By standing on a boulder, Bonn could almost reach the top of it. Here was their way in.


    He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled for Leiffen.


    * * *


    With her torso tightly laced in the green gown and her hair braided in an elaborate Nazeer style, Starlex was led by a group of women from the dimly lit chamber into a large palace hall. Every time they passed an open window, Starlex watched hopefully for Raki. She didn''t see the bird again, but she felt relief knowing she was there, and hopefully, Flenn Illyminum was there in spirit, too. There had to be some rescue plan in place. She and her sister were not close, but Hyperia would never allow her to be forced into marriage with a villainous brute.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    A door opened, and calloused hands shoved her forward onto a long walkway leading to an inner palace courtyard lit with glowing torches set in sconces on the circular walls.


    The walkway was narrow and without railings. Jynud Nazeer walked behind Starlex, forcing her down a long plank suspended over the heads of rowdy Nazeer citizens gazing up at her as if she were a prized calfbeing led to the slaughterhouse. From somewhere in the room, drums and flutes played an old Nazeer wedding song as flagons of wine passed through the crowd.


    Starlex glanced down at the Nazeers'' red, jeering faces. Some of the men made crude gestures while women sneered at her with jealous contempt. Their voices blended into a harsh cacophony of mocking laughter and crude song.


    She listed to one side and, for a moment, almost tumbled off the platform into the crowd. Jynud her caught her under the arms and pushed her forward.


    Derisive laughter lifted from the crowd.


    Straight ahead at the end of the narrow walkway was a raised dais. Duke Nargos Nazeer was there. His ostentatious, ermine-lined robe of green velvet overpowered his squat figure. The gold crown on his head, crammed with studs of emeralds and rubies, was, like everything else in the palace, garish and crudely fashioned. Next to Nargos stood his most recent wife. She was less than half his age and already wan from mothering one baby after another. Next to her stood a cluster of Nargos'' offspring from various wives, an unhealthy scurrilous group ranging from a sickly infant to a girl of twenty with stringy auburn hair obscuring her flat, pimply face. Despite their fine dress, the royal family appeared dirty and unkempt.


    On the other side of the Nazeer patriarch stood Dizzo, the intended bridegroom. At the sight of the broad, lascivious grin taking up his ruddy face, Starlex''s knees weakened. A couple in the crowd below her pantomimed a crude sexual act. Averting her eyes from the uncouth sight, Starlex gazed up at the ceiling, a crudely cut oval opening to the sky.


    Her heart quickened with a surge of sudden hope when she spotted Raki making a circle below the moons¡¯ glow.


    Could Raki possibly swoop down and catch me in her claws and fly me back home to Oran?


    * * *


    From the high tower of Oran, Hyperia and Scipio sat on either side of Flenn Illyminum''s gilded throne. The windows to Flenn''s study were open. Curtains fluttered, and starlight showered the floor. Flenn had been in a trance for over an hour, flying with the great Lila bird, seeing what she saw.


    Hyperia darted an impatient glance at her husband and said, "Nazeers always marry at the stroke of midnight, and it''s almost midnight now."


    Scipio raised his palm to silence her.


    Flenn Illymium took in a sudden sharp breath, and his violet eyes popped open.


    "Well?" Hyperia asked, tugging on the sleeve of Flenn''s robe.


    Flenn''s eyes blinked rapidly. "Starlex is being led to the bridegroom." With trembling fingers, Flenn poured out a cup of spiced wine and took a sip, clearly exhausted from the trans-omniscient magic.


    "Am I the only one who cares what happens to my sister?" Hyperia stood flinging her skirts around her legs. "Where is that damn Bonn Skaard?" She shot her violet eyes, teeming with rage, at Scipio Davadas. "You said he was the best!"


    "He is the best. Calm yourself, wife."


    "You calm yourself!" Hyperia shouted, her pale skin reddening. "If Bonn Skaard fails at this, I''ll have his head. I swear I will!"

 The Skaard Warrior

    Bonn and Leiffen, their leather-booted feet moving in step with the music, followed the sounds of the wedding band. A high flute added a feminine note to the low pulsing drumbeat. They stopped when they spotted two guards at the arched palace gate. Flattening their backs against a stone wall, they hid from the guards'' watchful gaze. Bonn elbowed Leiffen and pointed a calloused finger at the threat. The two guards were laughing and unsteady on their feet, tipping large cups of wine, with their swords resting against the wall.


    Bonn cocked his shoulder for Leiffen to follow him. He walked out to the clearing, green Nazeer cape flapping and the hood hiding his bronze Skaard helmet. Beneath the cape, he kept one hand steady on the heavy scrolled hilt of his ancient Illymium-forged ax. He raised the other hand in a sign of greeting. Leiffen, violet eyes peeking out from beneath the green hood, followed closely on Bonn''s heels. He clutched a silver orb in each hand.


    "You done your watch?" one of the guards slurred.


    Saying nothing, Bonn kept a steady pace toward the entrance.


    "Eh, he''s talking to you," the other guard said, pumping up his chest with authority.


    Bonn took two more steps forward. As the guards gazed drunkenly at the Skaard warrior''s height and bulk, the hood fell back, revealing his bronze helmet. The guards leaped for their weapons, but the wine they had consumed slowed their reflexes. Bonn was upon them, grabbing each by the throat and clocking their helmeted heads together, making them ring like a bell.


    He and Lieffen dragged the unconscious guards from the entrance and tossed their swords over the wall. Then, cautiously, they entered the palace with their weapons drawn.


    * * *


    The mother and daughter moons, two full silver discs, glowed through the smoke-filled haze above the palace towers, a mishmash of brick on top of brick. When the moons passed the highest spire, it would signal midnight. The bells would chime, and Dizzo Nazeer would claim his bride, and Illym''s prophecy that she alone would bear the next great Ardelymian king would be fulfilled.


    Starlex stood beside her grinning bridegroom, her pale hand turning to liquid within his hot, calloused paw. Despite puffing himself up in his silk finery and the gold crown sitting on a nest of reddish hair, Dizzo was a head shorter than his bride. Starlex wavered unsteadily on flat sandals and tried to keep her eyes upward toward the open ceiling, looking for another sign of Raki.


    A smiling Nargos Nazeer stood before her, the glint in his green eyes fixated on her as if she were a tasty morsel he was saving for later, to devour at his leisure. Those eyes frightened her more than the clumsy boy at her side. They told her this was all an act, that it was Nargos himself who would claim her virginity.


    "No!" she shouted suddenly, bending at the waist.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Nargos darted a hostile look at Jynud Nazeer. She responded by poking a short staff she had hidden within the folds of her skirt into Starlex''s ribs. The crowd showed their approval of such brutal treatment with enthusiastic shouts and fists thrust in the air.


    Starlex straightened her back and tried not to faint. The stays on her gown were so tight she could hardly breathe. She couldn''t believe this was happening, as if she had dreamed all of it, a terrible nightmare vision from which she would wake to see the bright sun shining on the Crimson Sea and the fresh air of Oran greeting her with a promising new day. Silently, she prayed to Illym, asking for forgiveness, for her selfishness, for never being satisfied with her lot. She had longed for love, for marriage and children, but not like this.


    Not like this!


    The Nazeer crowd below the dais surged with noise and demands for the wedding to commence, their empty stomachs craving the wedding feast that would follow.


    Nargos'' thin, worm-like lips twisted into a smile as he turned to the crowd, raising his ruddy hands to calm their rowdiness.


    "Good Nazeers," he began imperiously, "you are witnessing today not only the marriage of my son to this Illymium princess, one of the last of her kind in Ardelym, but something much more. In Oran, during the Zar celebration, Illym appeared to the queen and issued this prophecy."


    The crowd hummed and quieted.


    Nargos circled the couple, his ermine-lined cape trailing. "Illym prophesized that the next great king of Ardelym, who will guide us throughout this new Zar and beyond, who will prepare us for whatever passes to our world through the God Gate, will be birthed to this girl," he paused and pointed a short finger at the bride, "Starlex Illymium."


    "No!" Starlex cried. "It''s a mistake. My sister, Hyperia, is with child, the future king. She¡ª"


    A sharp blow to her ribs cut off her words. She bent over again in pain. The crowd pointed and jeered.


    "The Illyminum race," Nargos continued, spitting out the words with contempt. "Illym''s earliest experiment, with the exception of the Thrades in the north¡ª"


    Laughter rose from the crowd like a vile stench.


    "¡ªare dying. Their great city, Mynimium, lies a wasted pile of sand in the south. We Nazeers tried to rescue it from obscurity, to give it new life with our great wealth, but Scipio Davadas stopped us. But this time, he will not stop us! He will not stop us nor our new king!"


    The crowd roared. Wine cups flew in the air. Men grabbed girls and planted wet kisses on their lips.


    Nargos raised his hands in a quieting gesture. "But first things first, now to the wedding ..." he shot a lascivious look at Starlex, "and the bedding."


    Dizzo grinned and squeezed Starlex¡¯s hand tightly. He pulled her forward to recite his vows before the bent and blind seer, Kraton Nazeer, a man as ancient and ill-formed as Nazeera itself and a far cry from Oran¡¯s majestic Flenn Illymium.


    The old seer barely croaked out a syllable when a loud squawk shattered the hum of the room. All eyes floated upward as the great Lila bird with the enormous purple wingspan, shimmering with iridescent flecks in the torchlight, plunged through the open ceiling and soared above the crowd.


    "Kill it, you fools!" Nargos shouted at the guards. The guards aimed at the bird with their crossbows and fired. Raki swooped high up to the ceiling and through the skylight, avoiding the arrows, just as Bonn Skaard leaped from the balcony above the dais with his ax drawn.


    He landed in a low crouch before the bride and groom. Then, unfolding to his full height, he pushed Starlex out of the way and, with one smooth arc of his blade, lopped off the head of Dizzo Nazeer. As the body fell with a thud, the golden crowned head rolled across the dais floor, stopping at the feet of a stunned Nargos Nazeer.

 Escape

    There was a moment of shocked silence, a collective intake of breath, and then the palace hall exploded. The crowd screamed and ran amok, some crashing to the floor to escape the great Lila bird swooping down on them only to be crushed by the feet of those running for the doors. Women screamed as men pushed them out of the way to make their escapes.


    When the stunned guards turned on Bonn Skaard, who now held his bloody ax in one hand and his long blade in the other, Leiffen was ready with a silver orb. He tossed it at the faces of the Nazeer guards where it exploded, blinding them instantly.


    Nargos Nazeer''s face was as red as the blood pooling at his feet from his son''s severed head. "Guards!" he shouted. "Guards!"


    But with the crowd rushing through the hall, the second in command couldn''t get through. And the guards, most of them drunk by now, staggered around in the outer hall, scrambling to locate their discarded weapons.


    Sputtering curses, Nargos pulled a sword from the belt of a fumbling guard, blinded by the orb, before kicking him in the ass and sending him flying off the dais and into the crowd. In the same motion, the Nazeer duke threw off his cumbersome robe. The old scrapper''s body was still as taut as a young man''s.


    Growling through clenched teeth, Nargos charged the Skaards.


    Leiffen jumped to dodge the whoosh of the blade, cutting the air.


    By now, the Nazeer royal family had surrounded Starlex and were attempting to pull her through a curtained doorway behind the dais.


    Leiffen released another orb. It exploded above the guards'' heads in a great flash, scattering them like rodents. Starlex fell to her knees, her hands over her head. Leiffen grabbed her arm and led her through the curtains.


    Bonn''s lifted his long blade, meeting Nargos'' gladius with a great clank. Bonn''s foot found Nargos'' chest and kicked. With a pained grunt, Nargos stumbled backward. Tracking through his son''s gore, he tumbled off the edge of the dais into a crowd of panicked women.


    With a deft swing of his ax, Bonn dispatched a guard and followed Leiffen and Starlex through the doorway and up a narrow staircase. Noise from the rushing guards echoed through the torch-lit hallway as they ran.


    Leiffen led them to a balcony where he had prepared a rope earlier. He had looped it across a mezzanine railing spanning the courtyard to the outer wall.


    "Ready?" he asked Starlex.


    Not waiting for her answer, Leiffen grabbed her by the waist, and slipping his hand and foot through a loop in the rope, he jumped from the balcony. Starlex gasped as her feet touched air. She grabbed onto the rope and felt it burn her palms.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    They swung from one balcony and bounced their feet off the next to gain momentum. In the courtyard below, a phalanx of Nazeer guards aimed their crossbows at them.


    Starlex screamed as the arrows released, and Leiffen dropped a silver orb. It exploded, skewing the arrows'' paths away from them.


    They reached the city wall. Starlex untangled herself from the rope, struggling to maintain balance in her cumbersome gown.


    "Climb down the other side and mount the silver horse," Leiffen panted.


    "Did my sister send you?" Starlex asked breathlessly.


    "Yes, and we won''t get paid unless you make it back alive. Now go!" With a gentle push, he sent Starlex over the wall. Her skirts softened her landing as she hit the rocky ground next to the waiting horses. Following instructions, she placed a sandaled foot in the left stirrup of the silver horse¡ªits withers as tall as she¡ªand pulled herself up and into the saddle.


    Leiffen held out his hand, and the orb returned to it intact. He swung the rope back the rope back to the balcony. Bonn made a grab forit but was stopped when two Nazeers approached from behind.


    "Damn," Leiffen muttered. A small battalion of guards had gathered in the courtyard below. Some were pointing their crossbows at Bonn, but some were moving toward the wall, toward him and the girl on the other side.


    Leiffen released an orb and sent it exploding in the guards'' faces to buy them time. Bonn was still fighting the other guards, his ax swinging while the rope dangled in the vacant space between the wall and the balcony.


    "Ride up to those hills and wait for us," Leiffen barked at Starlex.


    ¡°What?¡± Her pale, frightened face shone up at him.


    "No time for questions, love."


    He reached down and slapped the stallion''s rump, and the horse took off in a wild gallop.


    Starlex''s nervous fingers grappled for the reins. The skirts of her gown ballooned around her, the weight of them almost pulling her off the saddle as she rode like lightning toward the Crags.


    The air, although hot and arid, filled her mouth with the taste of freedom as she squeezed her thighs around the horse''s girth. She shot an anxious glance over her shoulder as she rode, hoping to see the Skaard warrior making his escape, the one with the golden hair and eyes the color of blue ice.


    Nargos Nazeer had wrenched himself from the crowd and was now on the ground, fully armed, shouting commands to the gathering army. Bonn Skaard sent a guard flying off the balcony, knocking out several on the ground.


    "Kill him, you fools!" Nargos screamed, his face as red as the distant Crags. "You there," he waved his sword at a cadre of men. "Go after the girl! I''ll have your heads if you lose her! Go!"


    Three Nazeers released a shower of arrows at Bonn, who pulled his shield from his back in time to deflect them. He looked over his broad shoulder and saw a line of guards with swords drawn running toward him from inside the palace hall. He cast his eye to the dangling rope then down to the courtyard below where more crossbows were aimed at him.


    Leiffen read the play and threw another orb, this time directly at Nargos, whose men would have no choice but to protect him. Or risk his wrath.


    The orb exploded in a fiery cloud, sending Nargos cursing and cowering. As expected, the nearby guards gathered around their duke, lifting their shields over his head.


    Bonn Skaard sheathed his weapons in his bronze-studded belt. Then, with a great Skaard cry, he made a flying leap toward the dangling rope.

 A Warning

    With his shield on his back and his weapons hanging from his belt, Bonn Skaard grappled for the rope. His large hands squeezed around it as he slipped down several feet, the rope cutting into his palms.


    Nazeer guards ran toward him with swords drawn. He swung his foot, knocking the helmet off one of the guards. Freeing his hand, he pulled his ax from his belt and swung it in a clean arc at their heads. The guards took cover as Leiffen threw another exploding orb in their faces.


    Nargos, drooling with rage, sputtered words of vengeance as he roughly pulled the crossbow from the hands of a blinded guard and aimed it at Bonn, who was now climbing the rope hand over fist. Bonn turned his back, and the arrow punctured his shield. Cursing, Nargos loaded an arrow into the crossbow while another line of guards rushed at the Skaard warrior.


    Bonn swung toward the wall where Leiffen stood, catching a returning orb in his hand.Warding off arrows with his shield, Bonn landed on top of the wall next to his friend. Wasting no time, they both leaped to the other side, landing together on the back of the Roan. The startled horse reared up with a great whinny, hooves scissoring the air, and lurched forward with Bonn riding in front and Leiffen dangling off the rump as they headed for the Crags.


    Four Nazeers followed behind, their mounts whipping up clouds of red dust. Hanging onto the saddle with one arm, Leiffen turned and threw a silver orb at the small cavalry. The riders circumvented the explosion, separating into two lines without slowing their strides.


    Bonn and Leiffen ran the Roan hard. When they, reached the Crags at last, the Great Vulcan reared high above their heads, casting a black shadow on the dark ground.


    "Where''s the girl?" Bonn groaned.


    Leiffen whistled, and Starlex, her face a pale oval of fear, stepped timidly out of the darkness, leading the Stellarion, the horse unusually calm in her presence.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Bonn jumped from the lathered Roan, landing on Stellarion¡¯s back. Then, with one strong arm, he pulled Starlex up and onto the saddle behind him.


    She gripped him tightly around the waist as the horse leaped forward. She could feel Bonn¡¯s taut muscles as he heeled the horse into a fast canter up the winding path. She peered back over her shoulder. Gazing through her loose silver tresses, she saw the Nazeer cavalry quickly approaching.


    Leiffen, riding the slower Roan behind them, caught a returning silver orb in his hand and threw it backward at the Nazeers. The calvary ran into the explosion. The horses reared into the bright light, tossing their riders into the weeds.


    "We''ll never outrun them!" Leiffen shouted up the path to Bonn. "I''ll head them off here. You two keep going!" He brought the Roan to a rearing halt and hopped off. The lathering horse settled behind a rock wall while Leiffen climbed to the top of a large boulder.


    Bonn heeled the stallion up the steep path. His bronze shield hung from the side of the saddle, banging against Starlex''s thighs with each stride.


    Her heart in her throat, she lifted her head to the red sky, blackened by scudding clouds. It was at least a few hours before dawn. The path was steep and narrow, bordered by jutting rocks on one side and a steep drop into a lava canyon on the other.


    A cool breeze kissed her cheek as Raki flew low overhead. Swooping down, the large purple bird cawed loudly.


    "She''s trying to tell us something," Starlex shouted through Bonn''s rustling blond locks. "The bird!"


    Bonn glanced up briefly, then again fixed his gaze on the path ahead. A vibration rumbled along the ground, making Stellarion snort nervously. Starlex felt it, too. Again the bird swooped down, nearly touching their heads.


    "She''s trying to warn us!"


    "Yes," Bonn grunted. "Warn us the Nazeers are coming. And if we don''t ride hard, they''ll catch us."


    From atop the boulder, as he prepared to throw another orb, Leiffen felt the rumblings, too. He looked up and gasped. Black smoke poured from the red-tipped volcano. A raging cauldron boiled from within, shaking the rocky sides and sending down clouds of red dust and loose boulders.


    "Heavens!" Lieffen shouted.


    He jumped from the rock onto the Roan''s back and charged up the hill. He had to warn Bonn about a danger far worse than the advancing Nazeer cavalry.


    The Great Vulcan was about to blow!

 Quetzex

    Starlex watched Raki soaring low in swooping, concentric circles above their heads. A boulder tumbled onto the path in a cloud of dust. Stallarion whinnied and reared back. Starlex gripped Bonn''s waist tighter to avoid falling off.


    Bonn patted the horse''s neck to soothe him and craned his neck to gaze at the Great Vulcan looming over them, a craggy silhouette against a red sky. He watched anxiously as the mouth of the volcano coughed out a spray of lava. The stallion pawed the ground.


    Bonn Skaard hopped off. "Tear off a piece of your skirt!" he instructed Starlex.


    After a moment''s confusion, she understood. She ripped off the green velvet underskirt, happy to be rid of its weight, and passed it to Bonn, who used it to cover the horse''s eyes.


    A breathless Leiffen rode up to them and said, "The Nazeers turned back." He pointed up to the volcano. Its fiery tip lit the sky with red spew. "They''re no fools. They''re taking cover underground!"


    Bells of warning rang from the city.


    "We passed a mine shaft on the other side of the volcano," Bonn said, guiding Stellarion around the fallen boulder still steaming from the heat.


    "You''re mad!" Leiffen pointed at the volcano. "That thing''s about to blow!"


    "It''s either that or return to Nazeera!¡± Bonn shouted, leading the horse forward.


    Raki swooped down again, cawing loudly.


    "She''s trying to tell us something!" Starlex shouted. A shower of fiery sparks rained down; some of the cinders landed on her tender white skin and burned.


    "Here!" Leiffen, riding close behind, tossed her the green wool cape that had belonged to the Nazeer guard.


    Starlex took refuge under it, gripping it tightly under her chin. Her violet gaze followed the Lila bird''s purple tail feathers as it led the way. Bonn''s powerful legs ran in stride with the black horse. Starlex gazed up again. The volcano''s rock surface shook, causing more boulders to dislodge and barrel down the jagged face. One landed behind them on the path with a deafening thud.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "That one nearly brained me!" Leiffen cried as Emberfall kicked out its back legs.


    The rocky ground rose to meet them as they climbed, and as they girded the base of the mountain, the path narrowed to a space barely wide enough for the horses to pass. A rock ledge offered some cover against the rolling boulders and fiery rain, but the shaking ground was worrying.


    Starlex snuck a peek over the path''s edge and shuddered. Inches away from the horses'' nervous hooves, sudden death presented itself in a straight drop into the lava-lined canyon. Raki cawed as a shower of red sparks singed her purple wings.


    "She''s leading us to the mine opening!" Starlex shouted at Bonn, who kept pace with the stallion.


    The rock face shook with roaring thunder.


    "It''s Quetzex!" Leiffen shouted. "And she sounds hungry!"


    Raki cawed loudly in agreement.


    Starlex knew the stories of the great dragon, Quetzex, from Flenn Illymium''s library. She had paged through the great leather-bound tome with the tarnished brass latch, gazing in terrified wonder at the etchings depicting the dragon living in the very volcano now looming above their heads.


    The ground tremors grew in intensity. The horses¡¯ flanks quivered as a giant boulder bounced off the rock curtain above their heads and crashed in the canyon below.


    "Heavens! That was close!" Leiffen cried.


    The path opened at last to a rocky plateau, protected from the Great Vulcan''s fiery spew by a ragged ledge of cooled lava.


    ¡°My mount¡¯s near played out," Leiffen panted, reining up the horse and sliding off its back.


    Flapping back the green wool cape, Starlex dismounted to give her horse a rest. Bonn leaned his muscular back against the rock wall and gazed up anxiously at the mountain peak that now poured out red rivers of molten rock. Smoke blackened the sky in an expanding cloud. Leiffen poured some water from his canteen into his palm and brought it to the horses'' parched lips. Raki reappeared above them, flapping her wings frantically like an enormous hummingbird.


    A chunk of molten rock dislodged from the volcano''s mouth, followed by a whizzing fire shower. The ground rumbled, and the rock floor bulged beneath their feet.


    The horses let out terrified whinnies as black soot showered down, blotting out the red sky. The ground shook violently, knocking Starlex to her knees. She felt Bonn Skaard''s warm breath against her cheek. He had thrown himself on top of her, his large hands cradling her head from the singeing debris.


    After a few moments, the black smoke cleared. Leiffen clamored to his feet and checked on the horses. They were covered in black soot but uninjured.


    "Let''s get to that mine shaft and quick!" Leiffen cried.


    Bonn nodded and pulled Starlex to her feet. She tasted blood, and when she brought her finger to her lips, she saw a glimmer of concern in Bonn''s ice-blue eyes.


    "I''m all right," she said.


    Nodding, Bonn picked up the stallion''s reins and led the way. Starlex held onto the tall horse''s stirrup and walked along the craggy path. When they turned the corner, she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.


    Towering three stories above their heads stood the great dragon, Quetzex, blocking the mineshaft entrance.

 The Dragon Awakens

    The dragon''s eyes were red hot torches, its teeth as sharp as the edge of Bonn''s long blade. The monster took a curious step toward them, its gray scaly skin rippled as the rock ground shook.


    The velvet shroud fell from Stellarion¡¯s head, and he bolted, burning the leather reins through Starlex''s palms, and thundered off into the black hills followed by the equally frightened Emberfall.


    Starlex heard Leiffen mutter a curse under his breath, not his usual "Heavens" which was common in Ardelym vernacular, but a vulgar one, the kind she had heard from the men who worked in the stables when they didn''t realize a princess had wandered in.


    For a moment, Starlex stood transfixed at the sight, paralyzed with fear and awe, until Bonn shoved her aside. The two Skaards jumped into action. Leiffen tossed a silver globe in the air. The dragon looked down its long nose at it for a moment as the globe hovered in the air. The dragon''s nostrils flared and shot out puffs of smoke.


    While it was distracted, Bonn slammed his long blade into the dragon''s front leg. The Illymium-forged steel bounced off the dragon''s scaly skin, propelling Bonn backward onto the rocky floor. The now enraged dragon swatted away the silver globe, which bounced to the ground, benign as a child''s toy, and rolled off the cliff''s edge.


    "Run!" Leiffen shouted. Bonn clambered to his feet and, grabbing Starlex by the arm, pulled them both behind a large boulder. Leiffen threw himself on top of Bonn and Starlex as Quetzez released a vomit of fire.


    "That dragon bitch destroyed one of my balls!" Leiffen moaned.


    "I''m not touching that one, mate," Bonn grumbled.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "We better make a run for it!" Leiffen shouted.


    "We won''t make it," Bonn said.


    "Raki!" Starlex shouted. From beneath Bonn''s muscular arm, she saw the great Lila bird swoop down and peck at the dragon''s eyes.


    "Here''s our chance!" Starlex cried.


    While the dragon turned and shot a spew of fire at the bird, Starlex climbed over the boulder, skirted across the rock plateau, and ran between the dragon''s back legs. Bonn and Leiffen were right behind her. Quetzex''s tail swished to the side, nearly knocking her over the side of the cliff. Bonn grabbed her just in time, shoving her away from the dragon''s stream of fiery breath.


    Leiffen had gotten caught up on the dragon''s tail, and now he straddled it like he was riding a horse.


    Raki dove from the sky, cawing and fluttering her wings before the dragon''s nose. The dragon''s wings uncoiled with tremendous force, blowing dust in Starlex''s face as she flattened herself against the rock wall. Leiffen hung on for dear life as Quetzex ran the length of the plateau, great wings flapping as she chased down the Lilla bird.


    "Leiffen, jump!" Bonn shouted.


    The dragon reached the edge of the cliff and took flight, her tail snapping behind her. Lieffen hung desperate onto a scaly spine, his feet scissoring through the air, until he lost his grip and fell.


    * * *


    In the high tower of Oran, Flenn Illyminum collapsed, his iridescent robes fanning about his on the marble floor.


    "Well?" Scipio Davadas stood over Flenn, his foot tapping the floor impatiently.


    Hyperia rose from a chair.


    Flenn couldn''t speak. For a moment, the king worried the old mage had died. The alchemical trick of trans-omniscience was one only the greatest magicians could manage, and only for brief periods.


    Scipio crossed the room with his robes flowing and poured a generous goblet of wine. Flenn sat up with a bent back; his hawk-like nose still pointed at the floor.


    "Drink, my friend," Scipio handed Flenn a cup. The old mage drank.


    "Tell me the news, Flenn Illymium,¡± Hyperia said, anxiously wringing her hands.¡°Is my sister safe?"


    "She is," Flenn whispered, wiping the wine from his withered lips. "But the rest of us may be doomed."

 A New Path

    "I got you, mate!" The muscles rippled across Bonn Skaard''s arm as he reached over the edge of the sharp rock cliff where Leiffen hung with a white-knuckled grip. With a grunt, he lifted his friend to the safety of the now-singed rock plateau.


    Starlex let out a long breath, her heart gladdening at the sight of the shaken but unhurt Leiffen.


    Quetzex flapped her great wings and flew over Nazeera. Warning bells rang from the palace tower, blending with citizens'' terrified screams.


    "Let''s get out of here before the bitch changes her mind and comes back," Leiffen said, then remembering his company, added with chagrin, "Sorry, milady."


    "I''ll look for the horses," Starlex said, turning toward the narrow path carved into the rock face where she had seen the horses flee.


    Bonn lifted a large hand to halt her and, placing his fingers between beard and mustache, let out a long whistle. Within moments, the horses came trotting down the path, reins flapping at their sides.


    The exhausted trio continued along the old miner''s road in single file with Bonn leading the Stellarion in front and Leiffen at the rear with Emberfall. Starlex walked between them, casting anxious eyes up to the peak of the Great Vulcan, now simmering with a low rumble and a steady stream of black smoke.


    ¡°Do you think her babies will come out?¡± Leiffen asked.


    Bonn grunted in reply. ¡°Let¡¯s hope not.¡±


    When they approached the singed spot on the ground where the dragon had perched moments ago, they saw a giant boulder now blocked the mouth of the mineshaft.


    "Damn," Leiffen muttered. "Now what?"


    Bonn paused, let out a long sigh, made a seat of a boulder, and opened his saddle sack. From it, he produced a leather flagon of wine and tossed it to Leiffen. "To calm your nerves, mate." Then he pulled out a map, unrolled it, and began to study it.


    "Illym blesses you," Leiffen said with a sigh. After he had taken a long pull on the wine, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and offered some to Starlex.


    She drank. The wine, slightly sweet, warmed her parched throat. When she handed the flagon back to Leiffen with a thank you, she noticed Bonn Skaard''s ice-blue eyes on her. The wine in her veins giving her courage, she met his gaze, and a current of electricity rippled across her pale skin. She felt a small victory when he was the first to turn away, although a crooked smile alighted on his face when he did.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    She wondered what that smile meant and why he gazed at her so intensely.


    "Don''t get the lady drunk now," Bonn said, turning his attention back to the map.


    Leiffen chuckled and helped himself to a long slug of the wine. "Don''t worry about that," he said, smacking his lips. "I''m keeping it all for myself.¡±


    "While you''re keeping it, keep your wits about you as well, mate," Bonn retorted. "Your lady friend might come back to finish the job."


    Leiffen shuddered and cast an anxious gaze back to the red sky where the dragon resumed her attack on Nazeera. A steady stream of fire shot from her open jaws, silencing the screams of the Nazeers.


    "I wonder what made her blow like that?" Leiffen said.


    "Old Nargos'' rage wakened her," Bonn replied with a dry laugh.


    Leiffen mimed holding a heavy sword with two hands and slicing it through the air. ¡°You sure chopped off that lad''s head," he said with a chuckle. "I''m sure Nargos will never forget that, eh? Old Quetzex felt his rage through the ground and wanted to get in on some of the action."


    Starlex, closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. As repulsive as Dizzo Nazeer was, she wanted to extinguish forever the image of his head rolling across the floor near her feet. As a culture, the Illymiums abhorred violence, which is one reason why their kind diminished throughout time, while the Nazeers grew and prospered.


    Even a dragon attack would not keepthe Nazeers down for long, Starlex thought, exhausted from the exertion and the wine.


    Some beings just know how to fight and stay alive. Like my sister, Hyperia. But she''s an Illymium like me. Isn''t she? Why do I feel so weak in the face of danger? But wasn''t I brave in my own way when I was kidnapped? Didn''t I stay alive? If I hadn''t been rescued, I would have been brave, too. I would have figured out a way to escape. I know I would have.


    Leiffen began to sing:


    Quetzex, the dragon, is a surly lass,


    with fire on her lips,


    and a tail on her ass¡ª


    He broke suddenly and said, "Sorry, milady."


    Starlex laughed. "I don''t mind," she said.


    Leiffen shrugged and continued,


    Wings that stretch a mile in the sky,


    teeth like spears,


    and smoldering eyes.


    Don''t make her mad,


    or she burns you to pitch.


    Quetzex, the dragon,


    is a surly old bitch.


    "That''s the way." Bonn poked a thick finger onto the leather map.


    Leiffen stopped singing and a made a looping path toward Bonn.


    Bonn stood and folded the map. "The high path we passed wraps around the other side of the mountain." He pointed up to the Great Vulcan. "The lava didn''t flow on that side."


    Leiffen bit his lip. "But I bet it''s hot as old Nargos'' mines, mate. And will the horses make it up that high?"


    "We''ll see," Bonn said. "The only other option is to go back to Nazeera."


    Leiffen let out a slow whistle. "Looks like we''re taking the high road then." He turned to Starlex and said gently. "If you''re too tired to walk, milady, you can ride at least until the path gets too steep."


    "All right," Starlex said. As much as she wished to be strong, she was too exhausted to walk. The wine filling her empty stomach only added to her fatigue.


    Leiffen gave her a boost onto Emberfall¡¯s back, and in no time the horse''s slow and steady steps rocked her to sleep.

 Domesticities

    The morning sun had barely kissed Kadaar''s white peaks when Hyperia made her way down the silent marbled halls to her daughter''s room. Tylla''s marriage to Roland Davadas was to commence in a fortnight, and there was still much to arrange. It was certainly taking place during a chaotic time. Oran had received word of the eruption of Great Vulcan, the first time in over a Zar, and the dragon, Quetzex, depicted in ancient lore, was confirmed to be more than just a myth.


    The attack on Nazeera the week before had been devastating, but Nargos and most of his family had survived. Hyperia and her king, Scipio, had taken the news of Starlex''s rescue with much joy, but they wouldn''t relax until the girl had returned, safe and sound, to Oran palace.


    Returned to me, Hyperia thought as she burst into Tylla''s chamber, her jet-black hair streaming down her back. She wore her robes loose to hide the lie that she was pregnant.


    "Wake up, daughter!" Hyperia crossed the room and parted the balcony curtains, allowing golden light to fill the room.


    Tylla stirred slowly with a groan. She had stayed up late the previous evening, drinking wine with Rigel.


    The day before, Rigel had received a grim letter from Jabe telling him he was traveling to Nazeera. His family home had been destroyed by the dragon''s attack, and his mother, a widow with two younger children, needed him.


    "Mother, don''t you need your rest?" Tylla groaned, rubbing the sleep salt from her eyes.


    Hyperia cast her violet gaze on the empty wine goblets on the balcony.


    "I''m about to send that useless Rigel back to Mynimium," Hyperia groaned, seating herself in the silk-covered tuffet. When her daughter didn''t respond, she clasped the silk sheet and pulled it off the bed. Her daughter was naked underneath.


    "Mother!" Tylla sat up and covered herself with crossed arms and pulled up knees.


    Hyperia chuckled. "You are a true Illymium, my darling. Shameless!" She bent over and retrieved a sleeping gown from the floor and tossed it at her daughter. "Here. Brides must at least act modestly. I don''t care what you do when my back is turned."Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "I don''t feel like an Illymium." Tylla slipped the gown over her head, catching some of her thick black hair in the lace trim. "And I certainly don''t look like one."


    Hyperia humphed and glanced about the untidy room. "No, you have your father''s looks and health, which is good. But if you were only to look inward, you would discover an entire world of imagination," Hyperia fingered a corner of her velvet robe, "and magic."


    Tylla yawned and thought, I wish I could access that magic now and make you disappear.


    "What are you thinking about, my darling?" Hyperia fixed her sharp violet gaze on Tylla.


    "I''m thinking if I don''t have my tea soon, I will die."


    There was a soft knock on the door.


    Hyperia rose. "Ah, and here it is. See, your magic does work."


    "Not completely," Tylla grumbled.


    * * *


    The tea and toast helped Tylla''s headache, and when she felt energized enough to face it, she and her mother commenced with the wedding plans. The dressmaker would be arriving later that afternoon for a final fitting and they had to go over the lengthy guest lists.


    "No Nazeers are invited," Hyperia said.


    "But what about Jabe? He''s one of my closest friends," Tylla said.


    "The situation is too fraught at the moment."


    Tylla poured another cup of tea. The herbs had seared a pathway through her headache, allowing her to think clearly. "Have you heard anything about Starlex?"


    Hyperia sighed. "None since she and those Skaards escaped from Nazeera. And unfortunately Flenn Illymium has taken to his bed. The magic nearly killed him. When Flenn awakes, we''ll seek more answers, but for now ..." She stood and straightened the fluted pleats of her gown. "You must bathe, and I need to pack for a short journey."


    "What journey?" Tylla was on her feet and stretching now. Her mother was always full of surprises.


    "Oh," she waved an impatient hand through the air, "your Aunt Roselynn is so lonely in the country. The poor dear''s not well; she needs me."


    Tylla ran her eyes down her mother''s figure, hidden in her loose gown. "But should you be traveling in your condition?"


    Hyperia padded a few steps toward Tylla, pinched her chin with thumb and forefinger, and fixed her violet eyes on her daughter''s soft brown ones. "You know I will do anything to keep this family strong and together."


    Tylla, resisting squirming away from her mother''s attention, replied, "And you are loved through all of Oran because of it."


    The pinching fingers relaxed, and the pale eyes warmed. "I try," Hyperia cooed. "Now, get ready. You have a busy day ahead of you."


    Tylla waited until her mother left and then flopped back onto the bed. She gazed at the mural on the ceiling depicting the Heavens. One of the angels in the picture reminded her of Carmelle. The headache returned, and she closed her eyes, dozing off for a bit until Simmy arrived to draw her bath.

 Morning Musings

    Scipio Davadas had spent the previous evening arguing with his wife about why she insisted on accompanying his sister, Roselynn, back to the country with only Yewen Illymium, a man too old to protect her.


    Hyperia countered that the ride north to the country beyond Oran''s city walls was less than a day''s journey and perfectly safe. If there were any Nazeer refugees wandering the countryside, they would be much farther south. The great dragon, Quetzex, was last seen flying over the Crimson Sea, heading for Kadaar.


    Still, Scipio was not convinced. Why would his wife, in the delicate stages of early pregnancy, insist on traveling? And why this sudden concern for Roselynn, someone whom Hyperia had always regarded as a pest.


    "I''m concerned for your family," Hyperia said with a sob trembling on her red lips. "Maybe it''s because I''ve lost mine."


    Always flummoxed by his wife''s hysterics, Scipio relented, and the next morning, Hyperia and Roselynn took off for the country in a closed carriage accompanied by Yemen Illymium and two armed guards on horseback.


    * * *


    Through an arrow slit in the east tower, Tylla watched her mother and aunt''s small caravan weave its way through the morning mist and disappear into the Pale Forest beyond the citadel''s wall. She was confused about her mother''s sudden rush to leave the city. And why was her silly but always doting Aunt Roselynn not staying on to attend her wedding?


    But more important than any of these questions was the knowledge that she, for the next few days at least, was free of her mother''s nagging presence.


    And that was a call to seize the day, she thought, skipping down the tower stairs to the hallway leading to Rigel''s chamber.


    Her cousin, a notoriously late sleeper, was not in his room when she arrived. Two empty wine goblets and a messy bed told the story of the previous night. Rigel hadn''t been alone. Jabe must have snuck inside the palace walls for a late-night visit.


    But where are they now? Sleeping it off somewhere?


    A breeze parted the silk curtains, cooling Tylla''s skin. She hugged herself, recalling Carmelle''s warm, soft touch.


    It had been weeks since her lover was dragged away by the Wols. They would have arrived at the Weir by now. And what kind of harsh, barren world would Carmelle have found there?


    With a shudder, she recalled her lover''s thick red locks falling to the ground when the Wol''s leader gleefully shaved her head. Her Carmelle, who only wanted to love and laugh, who dreamed of better things, was now imprisoned in a wasteland within a grim sisterhood.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Her dark eyes drifted to Rigel''s bed, to the messy sheets and spilled wine, and her heart flared with sudden envy.


    She left his room and traversed the winding halls and down the wide cascading staircase. She approached two women, a mother and daughter, on hands and knees polishing the floor. They stood and curtsied. The mother, with shoulders hunched, leaned on her daughter for support.


    "Your grace," they uttered as Tylla passed.


    My ass! Tylla thought, casting a tight smile in their direction. She thought of Carmelle''s mother, Moranna.


    She was my nurse, and I loved that old fool. But where is she now?


    The queen had told her that Moranna had returned with the Nazeers after the Zar festival. Still, Tylla doubted the story as she doubted all of her mother''s stories, especially the one she told about how happy her daughter would be once she married a man she didn''t love.


    Her mood growing grimmer with each step, she padded along the lower hallways, quieting her footfall when she passed the king''s war chamber. Men had been assembled there since yesterday, and the heavy carved doors were shut against any interruptions.


    She paused long enough to hear a snippet of their conversation. The Nazeers were gathering forces after the dragon attack. Old Nargos had managed to salvage most of his guards, and Quetzex''s fire had missed the Nazeer armory altogether. Still, the molten lava from the Great Vulcan''s eruption had damaged much of their mining enterprise. With so much of their city destroyed, word had it, they were planning another march on Mynimium. And old Nargos was spitting out words of vengeance against Davadas and Skaards over his slain son.


    Through the door, Tylla heard one of her father''s advisors insist that they recall the troops they sent to fight the Thrades in Kadaar. Scipio said he would, as soon as Starlex was returned, according to the agreement he made. This proclamation erupted a fresh argument among the men.


    Tylla continued on her way. Men''s business bored her, and if she ever became queen one day, she vowed to change all the rules, to get rid of war altogether and try to get everyone to live in peace and harmony.


    Call me na?ve, she reminded herself as she moved through the colonnade and into the garden, breathing in the floral-scented air. And I know nothing about real life? But one time, I knew about real love.


    She was running now, running away from the looming palace, its topless tower hidden by silver mist. She ran to the stables, where she found Rigel''s abandoned lavender cape with the Illymium star sigil in a heap. The stable grooms would be arriving soon.


    Is he crazy to risk being discovered?


    All Illymiums are crazy when it comes to love, she reminded herself as she climbed the rough wooden ladder. Perhaps Mother is right and I''m more Illymium than I realize. I can''t stop thinking about Carmelle.


    She discovered Rigel and Jabe where she thought she would, naked on a bed of straw, fast asleep in each other''s arms. Dust motes twirled like dancing fairies in a shaft of bright sunlight streaming in from an open window. The light landed on their young bodies like a blessing from Illym, and for a moment, Tylla stood silently watching them. She preferred the female form, but even she was struck by their youthful beauty.


    The sound of a horse''s whinny below broke her reverie. She scooped up a handful of straw and dropped it on their heads.


    "You are charged with unlawful fornication," she said, holding back a laugh.

 Perspectives

    "Heavens, Tylla!" Rigel rolled her in a bear hug while simultaneously slapping her bottom.


    Jabe scrambled through the straw for his clothes. Tylla caught sight of his naked rump and giggled.


    Rigel lay back in the straw laughing while Tylla snuggled under his arm.


    "You smell like sex," she said, twitching her nose.


    "Jealous?" Rigel challenged.


    Tylla rolled away from him, thinking, he''s right. I am jealous.


    Rigel flopped back onto the straw, looked at Jabe, and asked, "How much wine did we drink last night?"


    "Too much," Jabe said, slipping his plain linen shirt over his head and mussing up his mop of red hair.


    Tylla heard a noise and moved to the window. "The grooms are here." She kicked Rigel''s rumpled clothes toward him. "Better get dressed. Unless you want to be brought before the King''s Council for treason."


    "Treason!" Rigel spat out the word. "You think your father didn''t have lovers when he was young? You think your mother didn''t? I happen to know ..."


    "Shh." Tylla brought a finger to her lips. "Follow my lead." She turned and daintily climbed down the wooden ladder.


    "There you are!" she addressed the grooms in the stable below. "Why are you so late? My friends and I planned to ride this morning."


    Jabe shot a worried look at Rigel. With the burgeoning tensions with the Nazeers, Jabe was especially at risk. He hadn''t been banished from Oran''s walls, but one misstep and he could be.


    Rigel dressed quickly, pouring the straw out of one of his boots. When he and Jabe descended the ladder, the chagrined grooms were already tacking up three horses, including Starlex''s white mare, Sola. Hyperia had, after some time, revealed to Tylla and Rigel the real reason for Starlex¡¯s disappearance and swore them both to secrecy. Of course, they told Jabe, but no one else.


    "Poor baby," Tylla said, rubbing Sola''s velvet-soft nose. "She misses Starlex."


    "Don''t we all," Jabe said softly. "I miss all my friends."


    Rigel shot him a sympathetic look then turned to address the grooms in an imperious tone. "We''ll be out all morning. Please run to the kitchen and fetch us tea, cheese, and bread, and be quick about it." Rigel rubbed his temples. "And a flagon of wine for later. Now off with you."


    The younger groom hurried out of the barn.


    Soon the three were flying down the garden path. Sola, needing exercise since Starlex''s abduction, lead the charge into the Pale Forest.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Tylla hadn''t ridden for months, and as she leaned over the mare''s white mane with her long braids streaming behind her, she tasted freedom in the tangy air, freedom she knew was short-lived. Within a week, she would be married to a man she didn''t love. She would be expected to set up a household like a proper wife. Soon there would be children, and her life as she knew it would be over.


    She dug her heels into Sola''s girth and thundered ahead of the boys. Rigel''s whoop echoed behind her as she veered her mount up the high path running along the ridge above the sea.


    When she reached the top of the grassy cliffs, she brought the mare to a spritely trot. While she waited for her companions to catch up, she gazed out at the breathtaking panorama. Before her eyes lay a flat carpet of blue covering red coral reefs. Tylla closed her dark eyes and breathed deeply the fresh, salty air.


    I will find you, Carmelle, she thought as she slid from Sola''s back onto the soft ground. I will have more power when I marry, and I will use that power to bring you back. I promise you, my love.


    A warm tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away as Rigel and Jabe cantered up the path to join her.


    Rigel brought his chestnut gelding to a halt and dismounted with a laugh. "This is a great spot for vittles. Let''s have that wine, Jabe."


    Jabe dismounted and tossed Rigel the saddlebag. "Here, you set it up. I''m not your servant." The redhead moodily walked away and stood at the edge of the bluff to take in the view. Rigel jogged after him, draping a conciliatory arm over his shoulder.


    But he is a servant compared to us, Tylla reflected, gazing out into the distance. Just like Carmelle was my servant. I didn''t see how unfair that imbalance of power was. Until now.


    With an aching heart, she turned her back on the stunning view and began to set up their breakfast.


    Even a princess can be useful, she thought, pulling a large linen cloth from the saddlebag and fluttering it to the ground.


    * * *


    The climb to the top of the Great Vulcan was arduous. It took them days to traverse the winding paths that were at times so narrow, the horses'' hooves grazed the edges, sending showers of rocks into the cavern below. Thick mist obscured their vision, and many times, they were forced to stop and wait for shale-colored clouds to pass.


    During those rests, Starlex eased her sore limbs. The green velvet wedding slippers she wore were now reduced to flimsy rags. Using leather straps from his jerkin, Leiffen fashioned sandals for her, but still, the hot rocks beneath her thin soles cut, sending shooting pains up her legs.


    Their food supply was all but depleted, and worse, their flagons of water nearly dry. Leiffen griped about the heat while Bonn Skaard silently led the way, sweat pouring off his face in a steady drip.


    On the third day of their ordeal, they reached the north side of the mountain. Exhausted into silence, they stood near a precipice, waiting for a leaden cloud to clear, and when it did, Leiffen let out a great cry of joy. The path below them wound to an easy descent toward the Crimson Sea. Glistening in the early morning light, it stretched like a misty mirror reflecting the bright blue sky. In the distance, the white peaks of Kadaar rose from a soft pink mist.


    "I can almost see my house from here," Leiffen said wistfully, removing his leather hat to wipe his brow.


    Starlex gaped with wonder at the sight before her. She had never seen the sea from such a high vantage. She cast a sidelong gaze at Bonn, eager to share her enthusiasm for the breathtaking view. But the Skaard warrior appeared to be lost in his own world. His face was a hard mask, impossible to read.


    I imagine he longs to return to his people, Starlex reflected. When we get to our next resting place, I will get up the courage to ask him about them. There is so much of this world I don''t understand, so much of Ardelym I haven''t seen. But now I want to see it all. And more than that, I want to understand what has caused this man so much pain.

 The Shoreline

    The foothills of the Crags cast long shadows on the path as they rode toward the sun.


    They had survived some of the most arduous terrains in all of Ardelym. The horses, sniffing the salty air, trotted happily toward the wide expense of sea.


    When they reached the bottom of the hill, their optimism quickly abated. A thick spill of lava, glowing red at its center and misting with pungent smoke, blackened the path connecting to Pendulum Road, the shortest distance back to Oran.


    Starlex felt Bonn''s muscles tense as he reined in Stellarion. Through the ripples of heat pouring off the lava spill, she could see the beginnings of the flatlands, and her heart leaped. The sandy plains told her she was closer to home. Still, they had a long journey ahead of them, and now this latest setback.


    With a creak of the saddle, Bonn swung his thick, muscular leg over the stallion''s withers and dismounted. Leaving Starlex in the saddle, he walked a few paces behind to consult with Leiffen. Starlex gazed up at the cloudless sky for any sign of Raki. She hadn''t seen the rare Lila bird in days and desperately hoped she hadn''t been injured (or worse) during the dragon attack.


    Bonn walked back to the stallion, his sword clanking against his bronze studded belt, and wordlessly grabbed the reins.


    "Where are we going?" Starlex asked as Bonn led the horses off the road into the brush.


    "To the shore," he said. The high grass lashed at his bare legs. Starlex turned to look at back Leiffen, who still sat atop Emberfall. He had pulled a reed pipe from his saddlebag and began to play a jaunty, upbeat tune. The horses stepped in time to his playing as they entered the white sand.


    They followed the shoreline for half a league when they discovered another lava spill, a hot smoking stream of it, cutting the shore and funneling into the sea in an acrid black cloud.


    "We can''t even get the horses to swim around it," Bonn said, squinting into the rising sun.


    "We can leave ''em here and swim around it ourselves," Leiffen suggested with little enthusiasm.


    Bonn looked out to sea, turned and ran his eyes up and down Starlex''s slender frame as if accessing her physical abilities, and then to Leiffen said, "No. We''ll have to sail around."


    Leiffen shrugged, popped his pipe back into his saddlebag, and slid off the Roan''s back.


    "Sail on what?" Starlex asked, thinking about her abandoned skiff in the belly of Oran''s inner harbor. How she would have loved to get her hands on it now.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "It will take us a day, maybe two, to build a raft," Bonn said, offering Starlex his hand as she dismounted.


    "I don''t see much lumber around here," she said, her legs turning to jelly as she landed on the soft sand.


    Bonn shrugged. "There were some trees in the glen when we left the crags." He swung back into the saddle and turned the stallion around. From Starlex''s vantage, the Skaard warrior looked impossibly tall, a dark silhouette against the bright sky. She wondered why he wasn''t as exhausted as she.


    "You and Leiffen stay here." He turned to his Skaard companion and called something in their mother tongue, causing both of them to chuckle as Bonn rode off.


    "What did he say?" Starlex asked Leiffen, who was already setting up a small camp on the beach in the shadow of a large boulder. "He told me to get us some vittles and to keep you out of the sun," he added with a giggle. "He said you were about to melt."


    "Oh, really?" Starlex challenged. "I''m perfectly capable of helping us find food."


    "Suit yourself," Leiffen replied. He removed his doublet and shirt and his worn boots. Starlex noticed his torso and back were littered with tattoos, all Illymium symbols.


    "Are you an Illymium like me?" Starlex blurted,hoping he wouldn¡¯t find the question rude.


    Leiffen cracked a smile. "Like you, Princess? Na." He pulled his shaggy hair back to reveal pointed ears, "But Illymium all the same."


    "I don''t understand," she said, blushing. "Isn''t your name Skaard."


    Leiffen rolled up his pant legs and headed for the surf carrying the short, pointed staff Starlex had seen bouncing on the side of his saddle. "I become a blood brother to the Skaard''s when I was just a lad. But I''m Mynimium born, same as you." He waded into the surf. "But unlike most of our kind, I''ve got some practical skills, like catching us some dinner."


    Looking down at her torn gown, a frilly mockery of green silk and lace, Starlex had a sudden thought. Grabbing a layer of the skirt in both fists, she quickly tore it. "Wait!" She chased after Leiffen. "We can use this as a net. We''re not all impractical."


    Her heart quickened when she saw a glimmer of respect light up Leiffen''s violet eyes.


    Leiffen trained beneath the shallow water. "What do princesses of Oran like to eat?"


    Her mouth watered as she recalled the sumptuous banquets that were laid out before the royal family during any given day. Ignoring his mocking tone, she said, "My favorite food of the sea was crab. They were plentiful along the shores of Oran."


    "Then crab it is, milady," Leiffen said. "Give me your net there."


    She tossed it to him. He handed her the staff in exchange, and with a leap, he disappeared beneath the water.


    Starlex held her breath, waiting for Leiffen to surface. At the exact moment when she had to breathe or else faint in the surf, Leiffen emerged triumphantly with six fat crabs trapped in the lace piece from her dress. Her knees weakened at the thought of food.


    By the time Bonn Skaard returned, dragging logs behind the stallion to build the raft with, Leiffen and Starlex had prepared a small but satisfying meal of crab, boiled in a small pot from Leiffen''s saddlebag, wild yams sprinkled with salt, and the last of the wine which they passed around while they ate.


    Her belly filled at last, Starlex stetched out on the soft sandin the shade of the Nazeer capes Leiffen had fashioned into a lean-to. She told herself she would only rest only a little while as the two men began to hack at the tree, but try as she might to stay awake, her eyelids dropped again and again until the sound of the surf and the song of the seabirds lulled her into a deep slumber.

 A New Journey

    Starlex dreamed she was in Mynimium. She had no memory of fleeing her birth city as a small child barely old enough to walk, but dreams held different memories. Flenn Illymimium had taught her that.


    In her dream, she was dressed in the traditional Illymimium garb: a white fluted silk gown with iridescent threads shimmering in the golden sunlight when she walked and a trailing mantel of purple wool embossed with the Illymimium crest of moons and scattered stars.


    Although now her people were equally reviled and lauded for their rarity, in her dream, Starlex walked with pride through the city''s sun-baked streets, redolent with clove incense. The streets were not abandoned as they were today, but alive with people like herself who did not hide with shame, tall people with feet on the ground and minds in the stars. They spent their days making things: paintings, beautiful clothes, and new songs. Some of them, white-haired elderslike Flenn, spent their time in the towering observatories charting the stars by night and writing about their findings by day. Every new moon, the citizens would gather in the city''s large outdoor amphitheater to watch plays about the elders¡¯ findings.


    Seeing it all now in her dream, Starlex wondered why something so beautiful had to die. The Davadas people told her the Illymiums could not sustain their way of life, that they never learned to apply their craft to practical economics or fight the inevitable invaders.


    Funny how the ultimate invaders who scattered most of her people to the winds were the Davadas, and yet somehow, the Illymiums were expected to be grateful. In her half-awakened state, Starlex wondered about the Illymiums who rejected civilization altogether and chose to live in the wilds of Terragonian Bluff.


    At least they are free.


    Her mind left the pink stone streets of Mynimium and returned to the white beach cove where she had slept until the following morning. Someone had thrown a Bonn¡¯s fur caplet over her while she slept, and when she pushed it from her face, the moons were milky saucers disappearing in a brightening sky, and a red sliver of dawn tipped the white peaks of Kadaar from across the sea.


    Starlex sat up.


    Leiffen, whistling a lively tune, approached and handed her a cup of scalding tea.


    "Milady," he said, bowing.


    "Thank you," Starlex replied throatily. "I''m sorry I slept so late. I could have helped."You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Leiffen added an eye roll to his whistle.


    "Oh, you''re a shipbuilder, are you?" This was Bonn Skaard''s voice, a low thunder over the lapping waves and gulls singing their morning song.


    "No," Starlex admitted, embarrassed. "But I do know how to sail." Regaining some of her dignity, she sipped the tea. It tasted heavenly. The medicine of the herbs reached her brain, clearing away the remnants of her misty dream.


    If they insist on treating me like a princess, perhaps I should act like one.


    When she had finished her tea, she stood, shook the sand from the ragged Nazeer gown, and inspected the men''s work. The raft they had built during the night sat on the edge of the surf. It was simple but strong, fashioned from ten logs, crisscrossed with another layer of logs, perfectly recessed into the bottom layer, all tied together by strong interlocking vines. Bonn saw Starlex gaping and laughed.


    "You made this last night?" she asked, amazed at the workmanship.


    "She looks pretty, but will she float?" Bonn laughed again.


    He''s certainly in a good mood for one who stayed up all night laboring by torchlight, Starlex thought.


    But then she followed the Skaard warrior''s gaze across the sea and instantly understood. He is one step closer to his homeland and his people.


    Leiffen shook the sand from the green Nazeer capes and approached Starlex.


    "Can you sew, milady?" he asked. "If we stitch these two capes together, we''ll have ourselves a strong sail."


    "Yes! I''m an excellent seamstress," Starlex piped up. "I''m not completely useless."


    "Good to hear," Leiffen said, his voice still tinged with sarcasm. "Somewhere in that bag of mine is my paper of silver pins from my old grandmother in Mynimium."


    "I dreamed of Mynimium last night," Starlex blurted before she could think.


    Both men stopped to gaze at her.


    Bonn''s eyes, as ice blue as the peaks of Kadaar, bore into her. "Did you dream foretell of our sea journey, princess?" He turned his bearded chin toward the sea. "That''s the Canopus Strait ahead, the narrowest part of the sea, but also the most dangerous."


    "Dangerous how?" she asked, following his gaze.


    Leiffen cocked his head as he loaded their provisions onto the raft. "You think old Quetzex is one mean¡ª" He bit his tongue before the curse word escaped, "Her sea dragon sister, Zetax, resides just below those waves. No man''s seen her ugly smile for over two Zars, but when has that ever stopped a dragon."


    Starlex shuddered at the thought. She had seen the illustrations in Flenn''s ancient tomes of the great sea dragon swallowing an entire fleet of ships with its gaping jaws. "But aren''t we just sailing around the lava spill? That should not be that difficult."


    Bonn shrugged his large shoulders. His muscles glistened in the sunlight. "If we catch a good wind, we can sail back to Oran in half the time it takes to ride there."


    "But why should we risk¡ª?" Starlex shut her mouth; her cheeks reddened.


    Of course, he wants to shorten the journey so he can get back to his people. I''m a fool to think I am his only priority. I''m the bargain for him. A trade. And nothing more. But why should that bother me?


    Silently, Starlex picked up the green capes and sat down in the shade of a boulder to sew the sails while the men ate and rested before they embarked on the next leg of the journey.

 Open Water

    The green woolen capes, held together by Starlex''s dainty, evenly-spaced stitches, caught a strong gust of wind that pushed the small craft laden with three people and two horses into the open water.


    After the stagnancy of Crytombe Crags, the fresh sea air, cooled from the ice-capped Kadaar Mountains in the distance, lifted Starlex''s spirits as she recalled the freedom she felt every time she launched her small skiff.


    They sailed parallel to the rugged shoreline. When the narrow Canopus Strait opened to the mouth of the sea, the sailing would be more difficult, but for now, the raft skipped over the choppy waves at a steady clip.


    Leiffen controlled the sail with a taut line of rope he produced from his saddlebag, while Starlex hovered near the mast, doing her best to comfort the flighty horses. Bonn Skaard stood forward on the raft, his eyes trained through the spyglass he kept chained to his belt.


    Starlex''s thoughts flew back to her spyglass with its ornate Illymium design. Her heart ached suddenly for home, for Oran and Flenn''s wise counsel in the tower library. After giving the nervous Emberfall a comforting pat, she took a few wobbly steps across the palm-covered logs, now damp with sea spray, and stood next to Bonn. She wondered what he was gazing at so intensely.


    "Are you looking for the sea dragon?" she blurted out, feeling instantly foolish for having said it.


    A wry smile formed between the Skaard''s bushy beard and mustache.


    As the raft hit a wave, Starlex lurched sideways, her hand landing on Bonn''s muscular forearm.


    He lowered the spyglass. His ice-blue gaze met hers. "Don''t worry about the sea dragon, princess. If she breaches, we''ll be either in her belly or the belly of the sea before we know it."


    "That''s comforting," she replied weakly. She removed her hand from his arm to press her suddenly queasy stomach.


    The Skaard warrior dropped his head back and laughed. "I wouldn''t worry about it, princess. One dragon is enough for this journey, I think."


    "I hope so," she replied throatily.


    He lifted the spyglass to his eye again.


    "What are you looking for?" she asked.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He sighed and uttered, "I''m searching for any fires along the shoreline of my homeland, but the mist is too thick."


    "Why would there be fires?"


    Stellarion whinnied and kicked the palm floor as the raft rode the crest of another choppy wave.


    Starlex again gripped Bonn''s strong arm for support, but this time she kept it there. Again he lowered the glass and met her gaze, but now the blue of his eyes had warmed like the center of a flame.


    He cleared his throat and, in his thick Kadaar accent, said, "The Thrades leave nothing behind when they attack. After they kill, they burn¡ªeverything. Homes, livestock ..."


    She felt his muscles tense beneath her cool, white fingers. "Your wife?" she asked in a faint whisper.


    He nodded and dropped the spyglass; it dangled on the chain attached to his belt. "And my son, too."


    Words of comfort trembled on Starlex''s lips but were quickly brushed away by a gust of wind.


    It''s just as well, she thought. How could any words assuage that level of pain?


    A fuzzy memory of her parents, killed during the Nazeer raid on Mynimium, came to mind. She vaguely remembered her sister, Hyperia, placing their ashes in their bronze urns on the temple mount and of the Nazeer soldiers kicking over those urns until the gray ashes blended with the coral sands.


    Did it really happen, or was it a dream? Only Illym knows.


    Feeling bold suddenly, refusing to let go of Bonn''s arm, Starlex tightened her grip and said, "You should be with your people, protecting them."


    His face softened as he squinted into the bright sun shining like a golden disk in a cloudless sky. "I will be soon."


    "When I''m returned to Oran."


    He nodded. "Yes, that was the bargain." The warmth evaporated from his eyes when he said, "If your king does not go back on his word."


    "He''s your king, too," Starlex blurted.


    Leiffen, who had been listening to snatches of their conversation over the rushing wind, laughed. "Did you hear that, Bonn Skaard? He''s our king, too."


    Bonn''s throaty laugh rankled Starlex.


    Suddenly, her hand felt foreign against the warrior''s taut muscles. She pulled it away and hugged herself. "What is so funny?"


    "You are, princess," Bonn said. "We men of ice serve no king but our own bellies. Your Illymium seer neglected your education on that point."


    A sharp whistle sounded from the back of the raft. Starlex turned to see Leiffen standing barefoot on the stallion''s back. He held onto the mast with one hand and stretched on tiptoe to get a better look at something on the horizon.


    Bonn Skaard picked up the spyglass and looked out to the open water. Starlex saw his jaw tighten under his thick beard.


    "What is it?" She followed his gaze to the sea, hoping it wasn''t the Zetax cresting the waves.


    What she saw was something eerily familiar.


    In the distance was the red and gold standard of her homeland, its sigil bearing the Tower of Oran piercing a sea of stars. Beneath the flag, a great prow of a ship with twenty men onboard parted the mist. Behind it, another ship appeared, carrying still more men. Then two more ships appeared until an entire fleet sailed through the open water.


    Bonn Skaard turned and gave Starlex a look that froze her blood.


    "It''s the one-hundred men your king promised me in exchange for your precious hide!" His words stung like the tip of a sharpened dagger. "They''re in retreat. Sailing back to Oran!"

 Tylla and Rigel

    Tylla stood before her looking glass, gazing at herself in her wedding gown. Her heart tugged with regret before she had even shared her vows with Roland Davadas, but still, her vanity gave her some comfort.


    I do look beautiful, she thought, stepping back to view the entire gown. As beautiful as I ever will look.


    Her dark eyes traveled down the length of the white lace made by Illymimium hands and brought back in a trunk after the siege of her mother''s home city. The fabric was some of the finest in all of Ardelym. Tiny iridescent pearls seized from the depths of the now dry Lake Ara were sewn into the lace, making the gown shimmer when she walked. The gown was hand-made by the best dressmakers in Oran.


    Humbled by the attention directed at her, Tylla had retreated into herself. Her mother, wearing loose gowns to conceal her growing child, took care of all the details.


    Like a dutiful lover, Roland Davadas visited his betrothed every few days. They would meet in the garden, while Hyperia watched their interaction, hawklike, from her balcony.


    During their brief visits, Roland held Tylla''s hand and offered up gifts: a pearl ring, a diary bound in ox-blood leather, a piece of fine silk. All these gifts Tylla received with shy gratitude. One evening, when Roland and his family had stayed for supper, the groom led Tylla down a moonlit garden path. There, away from the peering eyes of their respective families, he gently lifted her face and kissed her. She had been expecting this first kiss, had hoped bolts of lightning would accompany it.


    For Roland Davadas, the thunder came in the heat of his skin, the fire in his eyes, the hard press of his hips against hers. Her own heart merely fluttered with embarrassment. The heat that she had known when she held Carmelle in her arms was a sensation as distant as the roaring thunderclouds over the Kadaar mountains.


    When she put up no resistance, Roland kissed her again, and when he whispered words of love in her ear, Tylla felt a tear well in her eye. It trickled down her cheek, and Roland caught it with his finger and brought it to his lips.


    He thinks I''m mourning my soon-to-be vanquished maidenhood. If only he knew the truth. Mother told me once there were some things you could never tell a man.


    She broke the embrace demurely and suggested they return to the others.


    "I love you, Tylla," Roland Davadas whispered to her in the dark.


    "I love you, too,¡± she replied, her mouth as dry as ashes.


    After dinner, with the lie she told still clinging to her conscience like a leech, Tylla changed her silk sage gown into one made of plain burgundy wool and set out to Rigel''s room for a late-night conference.


    She found him in a circle of candlelight hunched over his writing desk, composing another letter to Jabe.


    "At least you''re free," Tylla complained, flopping on her cousin''s bed. "In a few days, I''ll be selling myself to a man I don''t love."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Rigel quaffed down the rest of the wine in his goblet and said, "That is the plan, darling. At least you''ll be away from your mother. You''re getting the better bargain."


    Tylla shrugged, sensing Rigel¡¯s dark mood.


    "I''m going insane inside this damn palace," Rigel said, tossing down his quill.


    "Why don''t you visit Jabe in the country?"


    Ignoring the question with a gruff shrug, he abandoned his desk and lay down on his rumpled bed next to Tylla.


    "What?" Tylla asked moodily when she saw him staring at her with a glint in his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m just wondering about your great deflowering?" Rigel teased, smiling now. ¡°Scared?¡±


    "Hardly," Tylla scoffed.


    "It''s not the same as Carmelle''s finger, you know."


    "You beast!" Tylla picked up an embroidered pillow and slapped him with it.


    Rigel laughed as he swatted it away. "If you ever grow tired of him, send him my way."


    "What about Jabe?"


    A cloud crossed the moonlit veranda, obscuring Rigel''s face like a dark veil. "More and more, he''s lost to me."


    "What do you mean?"


    Sitting up with a sigh, Rigel pointed to the messy writing desk with its spilled ink and crumpled vellum. "How does one compose a letter to his secret lover congratulating him on his impending nuptials while concealing the fact that his damn heart is breaking?"


    Tylla gripped his arm. "Jabe is getting married? To whom?"


    "A girl on a neighboring farm." Rigel rubbed his eyes as if to ease the tension behind them. "It''s his only chance to better his situation. The girl''s family owns a lot of land, land that will be his. He''d be a fool not to take it. What do I have to offer him?" He gazed at Tylla with a shattered openness she''d never seen her cousin reveal before.


    Struggling to find words of comfort, she said, "Yes, he would be a fool not to take that opportunity. There''s nothing for him here. You have no choice but to release him."


    Rigel nodded grimly. "I know. Which is what I was trying to express in my letter, albeit badly."


    "Well, what about you?" Tylla asked more brightly.


    "What about me?" He pulled himself from the bed, crossed the room, and poured the last of the wine into a goblet. "I can''t hang out here and be your handmaiden, can I? Your father has shut me out of any political opportunities." He drank down half the glass and,, wincing added, "I don''t think he trusts us Illymiums."


    "Including Mother?" The words flew from Tylla''s lips without thought.


    Rigel shrugged. "Well, that''s a question for a more sober time, isn''t it?"


    Shaking off the thought, Tylla stood and shook the wrinkles from her skirts. "But seriously. What will you do?"


    "I don''t know." Rigel slipped through the curtains and stepped onto the marble balcony now flooded with blue moonlight.


    Tylla followed. "Well?"


    "You see that out there?" With the hand holding the goblet, Rigel pointed to the Crimson Sea. In the far, far distance shimmering gold lights danced on the water''s surface.


    "Barely. What is it?"


    "It''s the fleet your father sent to fight the Thrades in Kadaar. He''s called them back."


    "But why when Starlex hasn''t been returned yet?"


    "I suppose our King needs them for more important matters."


    "Like what?"


    "Well, my dear," Rigel gulped down the last of the wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "while you''ve been busy trimming your wedding veil, the Nazeer army has been marching on Mynimium. Their city was nearly destroyed by the volcano eruption and the dragon attack, and they are trying once again to take my city for their own."


    "But is that dragon real?"


    "Yes. According to Flenn Illymimium."


    "I thought Flenn was ill."


    "The old Illymimium mage is on the mend. I saw Flenn today, in fact."


    "Without me?"


    "You were busy, darling. Tell you what, we''ll pop in on old Flenn tonight."


    "But wait, what about the Nazeers? Do you think they have a chance at taking Mynimium?¡°


    Rigel expression darkened in the dim moonlight, and suddenly he looked much older. ¡°Over my dead body.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean you¡¯ll fight?¡±


    ¡°What choice do I have?¡± Rigel drained the goblet and gazed out again to sea at the flickering lights created by the torches on the returning fleet, ¡°If Oran goes to war,I will go with her."

 Rough Waters

    "Where are we going?" Starlex addressed the tense, thickly muscled back of Bonn Skaard as he stood silently on the raft''s bow.


    A fan of sea spray hit her in the face. The horses shuffled their hooves nervously. The raft had passed through the Canopus Strait and was heading into deep water.


    Starlex turned to Leiffen. ¡±Why are we heading out to sea?"


    Leiffen shrugged, cutting his eyes out to the choppy waves. "Ask yer captain."


    She knew he meant Bonn, but she was scared to approach him again. She was still feeling the frost from the cold look in his eyes when he realized Scipio Davadas had gone back on his bargain. Surely, there had to be a reason for it.


    The raft careened over a wave and crashed down, bringing her stomach with it. She had no choice but to hang onto the Skaard warrior''s arm or else risk being swept overboard.


    Pride stung her eyes alongside the saltwater. After all, this wasn''t her fault. It was the king''s doing. She would explain it to him.


    "You want to know where we''re heading?" Bonn asked, jaw tight beneath his beard. "There!" He pointed toward the white-capped mountains bobbing in the distance through a cloud of mist. "I''m going back to Kadaar to fight for my people. And you, princess," his lipped curled contemptuously, "you are my bounty now." He reached out and picked up a silver lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Starlex pulled away. Her hair tugged at the roots. Her eyes flashed. "I demand you take me home!"


    "You demand, eh?" The Skaard warrior spread his muscular arms wide. "Do you rule this vessel? No!" He pounded a fist off his chest. "I rule this vessel! And that means I rule you!"


    Starlex stumbled backward, her back pressing into the stallion''s warm hide.


    "And from now on," Bonn continued, "you''ll do as I say!"


    "But it wasn''t I who gave that command to recall those troops," Starlex insisted, pointing out to the sea where the fleet had disappeared into a cloud of mist. ¡°It was the king¡¯s command, and he must have had a good reason for it.¡±


    "I don''t care about his reasons! I made a bond. I gave my word. I risked my life and my friend''s life," he gestured toward Leiffen, who now whistled a soft tune as he gazed out over the choppy waves. ¡°My absence put my people in peril. I killed a Nazeer prince, which now means there is a price on my head in this land. I risked all that. For what? For you? A silly Illymium girl with purple blood running through her veins? Who doesn''t have enough strength in her bones to lift a sword? I should throw you in the sea and be done with you!" With that, he turned his back on her and pressed his face into the biting salt wind.


    Bonn Skaard is right, she thought as she clung miserably to the roan''s bridle. I''m worthless. I''ve always been worthless.


    She pressed her face against the roan''s hide, feeling more dejected for having opened the gate of her heart even a small crack.


    Leiffen sat nearby singing a melancholy old sailor''s tune she thought, hoped, was meant to comfort her.


    She was a prisoner again. And as the sea air became cooler, the closer they came to Kadaar, the more her tears flowed. She was adrift now, more than ever, and the companionship and camaraderie she had thought she had found with these two Skaards were as fleeting and elusive as the foam caps on the sea.

 Smiles and Stratagem

    Hyperia finished her bath and slipped into the flowing robe Simmy held up for her. It was cut with deep pleats in the front and a high waist.


    It was a big day at Oran, her daughter Tylla''s wedding day. She had hoped to have Starlex returned by now. She would have given her her great homecoming at the wedding feast. Then, slowly and secretly, she would make sure her younger sister could never fulfill Illym''s prophecy.


    Her trusted ally, Yewen Illymium, had given her a small vial filled with the potent poison that would end Starlex''s life. Hyperia kept it safe and secure in a lacquered box within a locked cabinet in her bedchamber. No one would suspect her. Only Yewen knew, and he was now in the county home of Scipio''s sister, Roselynn, who was progressing with her pregnancy quite well.


    Yewen sent word every few days in carefully worded code, lest anyone should intercept the raven carrying his waxed sealed letter. Roselynn had let go of all her household staff per Hyperia''s instructions and was now resting comfortably, eating the rich foods Yewen prepared for her. He had reported back that Roselynn had grown quite fat as the healthy child grew within her.


    Hyperia looked at her own still slender figure in her smoked glass as Simmy stood behind her, brushing out her long black hair.


    I must gorge myself at the banquet today, Hyperia thought. I need to make myself as plump as a partridge.


    For a moment, she caught her violet eye in the glass, and something akin to guilt flooded her cheeks, making them blush red.


    "Are you alright, milady?" Simmy asked.


    "Yes," she said, "just fetch me some water, please."


    "Of course." Simmy made an awkward curtsy and crossed the room.


    My plan is flawless, Hyperia thought, gazing at her pale, oval face in the glass, admiring her symmetrical features. And when the child is born, both Roselynn Davadas and Yewen Illymium will die. No one must know.


    Illym always knows, sounded a voice in her head.


    Hyperia spun from her glass with a gasp. Flenn Illyminum, a towering figure in flowing purple robes flecked with gold stars, stood in the doorway gazing at her with pale, iridescent eyes.


    "I am pleased to see you back on your feet, Flenn Illyminium," Hyperpia said, recovering quickly from the sudden intrusion. "But as you can see, I am very busy."


    "I don''t mean to disturb you, milady. It''s just..."


    "Yes?"


    "Illym has sent another sign."


    "Oh?" Hyperia sucked in her breath sharply. "Then I shall go to the tower. Now."


    The sleeve of Flenn''s robes made a purple curtain across the queen''s threshold, blocking her egress.


    "I''m sorry, madam."


    "Indeed?" She huffed. "What is the problem?"


    "At dawn this morning, Illym came to me in a dream. He told me your sister, Starlex, is in grave danger."


    "What kind of danger? I thought that Bonn Skaard was bringing her home."


    "He was, madam, but now he''s changed course and is returning to Kadaar."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "But why?" Hyperia''s cheeks paled. "Never mind." She waved her hand through the warm, fragrant air. "I know the king called back the troops he sent. But we need them to fight the Nazeers. They are marching on our city, Flenn Illymimium." Her violet eyes flashed with a look of solidarity she hoped was enough to convince the ancient seer that they were on the same team. She wasn''t so sure the old mage was fooled, however.


    Does Flenn Illymimium know about my deception? Can I trust him?


    The old seer''s wrinkled eyelids fluttered with fatigue. Hyperia rose and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "You''re tired."


    "Yes," Flenn uttered weakly. "I am tired, but when I regain my strength, I will once again become one with my Lila bird and fly to the princess'' side."


    Hyperia smiled indulgently at Flenn, gaining power from his obvious weakness. "Of course you will. But now, you must rest for the wedding feast tonight."


    "Yes," Flenn said as he turned and slowly tottered off.


    Hyperia watched as Flenn walked slowly down the hallway through shafts of sunlight, purple robes trailing over the pink marble floors.


    Flenn''s powers are weak now. But once what happens when he regains hisstrength?


    Sighing, she returned to her glass to examine her figure. She had been stuffing herself at every meal to gain plumpness. Indeed, her breasts and belly had swelled enough to fool some prying eyes, but soon it would be impossible to hide her deception. Luckily, men like Scipio Davadas were easily fooled with basic feminine wiles. His mind was filled with the business of running a kingdom and now the impending war. But he needed sensual release as well. She would have to see to that tonight after the feast when he had a lot of wine. If she were lucky, he might pass out before the deed was done.


    Men were easy to control, but Flenn Illymimium, the oldest living being in all of Ardelym, was not so easy to fool. The ancient seer was on his last life, one step away from being pure spirit.


    Perhaps if Flenn were to be pushed from the tower?


    "No," she said aloud into her glass. You fooled the old Wol because she was blind. Flenn Illymimium will be more of a challenge, and also, there is Illym.


    Does he see my deeds, my very thoughts?


    A tug of conscience propelled her through the balcony door. The day was fine with the sun hovering bright and bold over the distant Kadaar Mountains, turning their snow-tipped peaks to fine glass.


    Perhaps Starlex will die on the journey or find a worse fate among the untamed Skaards. She could be trapped forever behind those frozen peaks, but in time, say twenty years, the son she will sire from some wild man would return to claim his throne. She remembered the strong body of Bonn Skaard and how he had aroused her blood with lust. What type of king would come from the fine spirit of Illyimium blood mixed with a hardy Skaard''s?


    She shuddered to think on it.


    No. I must stick to the plan. Starlex must be returned and find her fate with a vial of poison or beneath my dagger''s point before any Skaard''s seed can penetrate her womb. And Flenn Illymium, I will find a way ...


    "My lady wife," a bass voice sounded behind her. She turned to see her husband and king, moving toward her with a wide smile. "Our daughter marries today."


    "Yes," Hyperia said, mirroring his joyous expression. "And what a fine day it is."


    Knowing she had no choice in the matter, she opened her arms to him. His strong hands did not hesitate to find the soft plumpness of the body she had withheld from him for too long. He touched her full breasts and purred with pleasure. She didn''t stop his hand from traveling to the swelling mound of her belly and then, at last, to settle in the moist warmth between her rounded thighs.


    "Tonight," she whispered. "When the wedding feast is over, I will lie in your chamber."


    The king grunted with satisfaction. Now that she had him on the hook, a sudden idea came to her. She smiled with satisfaction at her cleverness.


    "May I ask a request of my king on our daughter''s wedding day?"


    "Of course," he said, still nuzzling her neck.


    "Send Flenn Illymium away."


    With a start, he lifted his head to look at her. "What do you mean?"


    She slipped out of his hands and looked out over the balcony railing. "I was just thinking ... we need a stronghold in Mynimium. When the Nazeers arrive there, they will try to influence the people."


    "But there are so few citizens left, and we will meet the Nazeers with all our forces. I''ve sent one hundred troops already, and more will be deployed tomorrow."


    "I know, but suppose the Nazeers were to breach the walls. If Flenn Illymimium were there as our ensign, the people would rally behind him, and Nargos Nazeer will be at a disadvantage."


    Scipio rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The Nazeers will never make it in."


    "But if by chance they do? It was you who always said you must strategize for the worst possible outcome."


    The king smiled and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I didn''t know my wife was listening to the discussions in my war chamber."


    "I listen to everything, my brilliant king." She ran her hand along his muscular thigh through his robe. "What do you think of my plan?"


    "I will think about it. But today, dear wife," he pulled her again into a strong embrace, "we think only of our daughter''s happiness."

 Shipwrecked

    7. From the Illyminum Codex


    There are certain beings who, according to Illym¡¯s will, defy the limits of the corporeal body to rise to the highest levels of wisdom and power. These are the Illymatars, Illym¡¯s star children. When their journey through the world of men is complete after passing through many lifetimes, these beings will make their final entry to the Heavens, becoming one of Illym¡¯s stars of pure spirit and light.


    Chapter 40


    Starlex kept her eyes shut tight as the small craft rode the crests and valleys of deep waves. What little contents she had left in her stomach had already shot from her mouth to the floor of the raft. Beyond humiliation, she thought only of survival now.


    She clung to the horses'' bridles. If the raft split apart, she would grab hold of one of them. In all her years pleasantly sailing off the coast of Oran, she never went farther than the rock promontory that had been her playground and quiet sanctuary. She had no idea the sea could be this rough, throwing their small raft around like a toy. Below her feet, the logs creaked and groaned, and above her, the sail stretched to its limits.


    Through salt-stung eyes, she viewed the jagged coastline of Kadaar bobbing in the distance. She turned to Leiffen, who struggled to steady the sail against the raging wind.


    She shifted her gaze to the figure of Bonn Skaard at the stern. Every other second, a wave would splash down on him, and each time she thought he had gone overboard, he would reappear again, his shoulders square against the pounding wind and sea.


    Even with her rudimentary nautical experience, she knew that to sail into harsh winds was beyond foolish. She wondered what possessed Bonn Skaard to put them all at risk other than his eagerness to reach his home had impaired his senses. She longed to stagger over to him and offer her advice, but fear kept her wedged between the two beasts on board, whose instinct she trusted beyond the foolhardy Skaard.


    Leiffen, still clinging to the mast, raised one arm to point in the near distance. His blue Illymium eyes seemed to glow with fear.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Starlex shouted. The wind snatched her words with the cold greedy hands of a witch.


    The sea which swelled into a white capped peak before the raft. Beneath the thin veil of blue water, emerged the enormous tail of the underwater dragon.


    Leiffen slid down the mast and positioned himself behind Starlex. He gripped her waist just as the craft mounted the wave, pointing its stern skyward. Bonn Skaard stood in defiance as the head of Zetax, the mythical sea dragon, rose from the depths. He lifted his ax as the dragon opened her jaws, ready to swallow them whole.


    The mast cracked and fell, taking the sail with it. The horses squealed. She reached her hands out desperately and caught the stallion''s saddle, looping her arm under the girth strap before the raft exploded.


    There was a horrible feeling of spinning, of the great horse''s thrashing limbs. But by far, the worst part was her awareness of holding her breath, the knowledge that she couldn''t hold it forever, and as the cold blackness surrounded her, she knew that in her next breath, she would take in the cold sea and fill her lungs with agony. Then her body would sink to the bottom of that blackness, never to be ...Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Her bare foot scraped against a rock, then cold sand. She was still gripping the stallion''s saddle when, miraculously, the horse surfaced and began to swim.


    Desperately, Starlex climbed, hand over fist, to the top of the saddle. Grabbing onto the pommel, she hoisted herself onto the stallion''s back. Vomiting seawater that had lodged deep inside her lungs, she rested her head against the animal''s mane and prayed the horse would make it to shore. Whirling her head, she looked around. The remnants of the raft, mere sticks bobbing over waves, fanned out behind her. A sick feeling gripped her at the thought of being the sole survivor.


    But at least I''m alive.


    The stallion''s legs stiffened as they found the sandy floor, made a few listing steps onto the sand before toppling over. Starlex rolled off its back, curled into a tight ball, and took in grateful, shuddering breaths as darkness surrounded her.


    She awoke to the smell of smoke and the sound of crackling wood. Incredulously, a fire burned on the beach. Its red glow fanning out into the darkness illuminated a figure.


    "What?" Her head popped up from beneath a wet fur, Bonn Skaard''s capelet.


    "Hello, princess," Leiffen Skaard smiled at her.


    "I thought you drowned," she said, sitting up.


    "We thought so, too, didn''t we?"


    Bonn Skaard entered the firelight''s glow, carrying a skinned rabbit on a stick. Behind him stood the two horses munching on brown grass.


    "Better come closer to the fire, princess," Bonn said with a grunt. "You''re still shivering."


    "I thought you didn''t care if I lived or died!" The words escaped from her mouth before she could call them back, nor did she want to. Her former self would always err on the side of politeness, but after what she had been through, she scarcely cared whom she offended, especially this man who had threatened to toss her overboard.


    Bonn chuckled. "We lost a good raft, but we made it ashore.¡±


    ¡°And we have a good tale to tell about it to boot,¡± piped Leiffen, looking worse for wear in his soggy leather attire. ¡°Not many a man, nor woman, has ever come that close to being eaten by Zetax, the sea dragon. Now, at least we know she¡¯s real.¡±


    Leiffen opened his leather sack and peeked inside. ¡°Good thing my balls survived.¡±


    Bonn laughed.


    ¡°And me pipe.¡± Leiffen produced a wooden flute and turned it upside down to let the water drain out. He played a few watery notes on the pipe then began to sing.


    Zetax comes from the watery depths,


    Making a meal of me friends and me pets.


    But Illym had another plan


    And landed our asses ashore on the sand.


    Bonn Skaard grunted and said, ¡°Needs work.¡± He gestured toward Starlex. ¡°Come and eat, princess. You need your strength."


    The fire''s warmth drew her to it despite her pride. The scent of the roasting meat made her mouth water.


    "Why? Where are we going?" she asked.


    "Beyond the mountains," Bonn said, lifting his chin. "Home."


    "What about returning me to Oran?"


    The Skaard warrior''s ice-blue gaze penetrated the wavering flames between them. "As I told you before. You are my bounty now."


    He turned to Leiffen and said something in the Skaard tongue. Both men chuckled.


    "Speak the common tongue, please," she said.


    "Making demands again, princess?"


    "No," she faltered. "It''s just that it''s rude."


    Bonn tore a piece of rabbit meat with his teeth and swallowed. He pushed a stick with a skewered piece of meat toward her. She picked it off with her fingers and chewed. The meat juices slithered down her throat, instantly warming her blood.


    ¡°We need to keep you alive. You''re worth more to us that way. Tomorrow, we''ll travel beyond those peaks to my village. We will have fresh clothes for you and more provisions there. But for now ..." Bonn Skaard patted the ground beside him.


    "What?"


    "Princess, you have very little clothes left on you."


    She looked down in sudden shame. All that remained of her Nazeer wedding gown were thin green rags, barely covering her nakedness. Her bluish-white skin trembled violently.


    "I plan to bargain with Scipio Davadas using your fine flesh as a wager. Therefore, I must take care of it. Come now." He waved a thick hand in her direction as if he were calling a pet to his side.


    Realizing she had no choice, she moved toward him. Despite her inner protestations and feelings of intense humiliation, she did find herself relaxing in the warmth of the fire and the protection of the Skaard''s strong body, that smelled of saltwater and sweat. Before long, she had let go of any feelings of resistance as sleep overtook her.

 The Chained Maiden

    The number of guests who had arrived for the wedding feast was far less than those who had attended the Zar festival three moons earlier. Two of the Four Corners were now officially at war, and a state wedding would not be appropriate.


    When Tylla heard her wedding day would be a modest affair, with only Oran political officials and their families in attendance, she was secretly relieved. After all, this was as much a political affair as signing in a new law or swearing in an officer of the court. Worse, it was a sham. But it was what she had agreed upon, and she must go through with it. She would marry Roland Davadas that evening.


    As she tried to clear her mind of any concerns, she lingered in her scented bath until the water chilled. All she had to do was turn her brain off, smile, and look beautiful. Then, on the morrow, she and her bridegroom would leave the palace and ride to her new home on her groom''s family estate beyond Oran''s wall. Roland had mentioned he wanted to start a family right away. She would have children, and she would love them, and that would be her life.


    But is that really the only way?


    She cast her large brown eyes toward the open window. Beyond the fluttering silk curtains, the Pale Forest, her childhood playground, now frosted in moonlight, took on a ghostly appearance.


    With a sigh far beyond her young years, she hoisted herself from the edge of the marble bath and gazed at her wet, naked body in the mirror''s smoky glass. Carmelle''s tender touch had nearly faded from memory.


    And very soon, she thought, this body will no longer be mine, but my husband''s. It will be his to paw at, to fill with his seed, and then the child will come to tear my flesh apart, to suck me dry until there''s nothing left of me.


    With a sudden fit of rage, she picked up a hairbrush and threw it at the mirror, shattering it. The sound of breaking glass calmed her, and when the handmaidens arrived to lace her into her gown, they silently cleaned up the pieces of glass as if they were dead rose petals and quietly replaced it with another one.


    This is how things are now, Tylla silently acknowledged as she submitted to the ladies'' hands braiding her hair and fiddling with her gown and its intricate trimmings. When the Oran tower chimes counted six and Tylla had been tightly laced into her gown made of white lace and stars embroidered with gold threads and peals, her mother appeared in her silk crimson gown, which was pleated in front and spreading over her round belly. She wore the royal Illymium diadem of diamonds, opals, and star-sapphires set in the finest platinum.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "My darling," she said, holding out a box with ornate gold etching. "These jewels are from Mynimium''s treasury. They are three Zar''s old."


    Hyperia opened the box to show Tylla a tiara made from etched gold and set with iridescent pearls. It glimmered as if created by some otherworldly magic.


    "I wore this on my wedding day, and now it''s yours to pass onto your daughter."


    Hyperia sat Tylla before the mirror and carefully set the crown onto her head. She gasped at her daughter''s reflection.


    "You are perfect, my darling."


    Tylla forced her lips to smile, and catching her mother''s gaze in the glass, she thanked her with as much sincerity as she could muster.


    "And now, my precious one," Hyperia extended her hand and bid her daughter stand, "your time has come."


    Tylla took her hand, and her mother led her downstairs into the wide marble hall where the entire palace staff stood in attendance.


    I feel like I''m being led to my execution, Tylla thought with rising panic. Breathe, she told herself, just breathe.


    They traversed the wide hallway through pools of moonlight cascading like ethereal ash from the high windows. At the foot of the grand staircase stood her father, King of Oran, in his finest gold and crimson robes with the Davadas crest. He wore the high gold crown, which showed in carved relief the story of his ancient ancestor, Corellas Davadas, transitioning from captured slave to king.


    Tears welled in Tylla''s eyes at the sight of her father. Hyperia handed her off to him with a kiss, and together, the family entered the grand court. Lit with flaming torches and filled with guests in their finery, the court shone like a glimmering amber jewel. The open ceiling revealed a patch of indigo sky where the constellation of Celestara, the Chained Maiden, glistened in the Heavens.


    How terribly fitting, Tylla thought, casting her tear-filled gaze away from the sky and toward her waiting groom. Tall and handsome in his fine crimson and gold robes, Roland Davadas smiled nervously at her. But his brown eyes were filled with love and kindness.


    I can do this, Tylla told herself. The space left in her heart now filled with courage, with faith.


    With each step toward her future, she let go of the girl she was and the heart she had left behind in the Weir wilderness.


    * * *


    From beneath the same sky, in a sweltering swamp, Carmelle put down the hoe in her blistered hands and dropped the itchy gray cowl from her shaved head. A shrill whistle pierced the thick air, signaling the Wols labors were done for the day. It was midnight. Now, they would be allowed to eat their daily meal of thick, tasteless gruel, spend an hour at prayer on their knees, and then at last head to their hard beds for a few hours rest.


    Tomorrow, the sun would rise again, and again Carmelle would drag her emaciated body to the fields to do her work. The only thing keeping her from throwing herself into the black swamp among the poisonous adders or rushing the gates of Weir to be impaled by the Lex Azarax was the hope that someday her love would return to rescue her from this daily torture. Yet each day that hope faded with the setting sun.

 The Ice Cavern

    The Kadaar mountain path was treacherous, but the Bonn and Leiffen Skaard knew it well and traversed it quickly. Starlex, shivering beneath Bonn''s fur capelet, rode on the Roan''s back while Leiffen led the stallion. By nightfall, they had reached an encampment in the gulley of an icefall. Leiffen told her they were in Rhynforde. The fishing village was the first outpost in Kadaar. Most of the people lived in tents in the burnt-out ruins of stone houses. The Thrades had attacked before.


    Despite their obvious hardship, the men and women, many with young children and dressed in furs, greeted the Skaard warrior and his companion like returning heroes.


    Starlex couldn''t understand their native tongue, but she gleaned the people were refugees from the mainland. Their provisions were scarce, but they readily shared them. After a fortifying meal of marabou stew, root vegetables, and warm spiced wine, the men stayed by the fire having a conference while several women led Starlex to a tent made of tan hides. She fell gratefully into the pile of furs that made up the bed. The dogs that shared her tent kept her warm all night. Despite her captivity, she was treated well by the Skaards, and in the morning, an older woman with long gray hair brought her tea and a fur-lined cape to wear. She ripped off the remnants of the Nazeer wedding gown and wrapped the cape around her, using the tooled belt to cinch her waist.


    Starlex thanked her in Ardelym''s common tongue, and the woman nodded as if she understood. When the tea had warmed her belly, the old woman stood and beckoned her to follow her out of the tent.


    Confused about where she was being led, Starlex obeyed, folding back the tent flap into a brilliant dawn. The sun peaked through the valleys of ice, bathing the glistening surfaces until they shone like pink quartz. The icy air filled her lungs, instantly clearing her head of the dreams that had tormented her throughout the night, dreams of shipwrecks, of being pulled into a whirlpool, watching the circle of sky close to darkness.


    Following the old woman through the encampment of tents past low fires brewing morning tea and gruel, Starlex found it difficult to keep up through the crunchy snow.


    When they finally reached their destination, the old woman stopped and pointed a gnarled finger at a torch-lit entrance to a cavern cut into a wall of ice.


    "I''m sorry," Starlex stammered, unsure what the old woman wanted her to do. "What is this place?"


    The old woman responded to her query by giving Starlex a hardy shove toward the mouth of the cave. Starlex panicked, wondering if she had been led to some burial vault where she would be imprisoned or worse.


    Starlex slipped on the icy rock floor, propelling her down a steep drop. With a sharp yelp, she landed on hands and knees within a torch-lit cavern. Gathering her bearings, she looked around the enormous cavern with its jagged floor and high roof made of icy stalactites pointing down at her like spears.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Come on in, princess," a bass voice echoed off the walls.


    She took a few tentative steps, skirting a low rock wall, and saw a naked Bonn Skaard half-submerged in a steaming mineral pool twice as large as the imperial baths at Oran Palace.


    "I thought you might want a proper bath," Bonn said, smiling as he applied sudsy oil to his wet hair. "The dip in the sea where you nearly drowned doesn''t quite count, now, does it?"


    Stunned, she wrapped the fur cape around her tighter. She was filthier than she had ever been in her life, and the bath certainly looked and smelled inviting, but with him?


    "Come, princess. Don''t be shy. Besides," his ice-blue eyes glistened through the steam, "I''d like to see all of my bounty."


    "Is that really how you see me? Your property?" Starlex challenged. "What kind of gentleman are you?"


    Bonn Skaard''s head tilted back, and his laugh echoed off the cavern walls. "I never said I was a gentleman, dear lady."


    "But," she stammered, "At first, you were so nice. So kind."


    "At first," the Skaard said, breaststroking toward her through the steamy water, "I was holding up my end of the bargain." He suddenly hoisted his naked body out of the rock pool and stood dripping before her. She averted her eyes to the ceiling and away from his rippled muscles, but she felt the heat of his body as it instantly warming her flesh. "And now I''d like to see all of what I own." He reached out and ripped the cape from her shoulders, letting it fall to the damp floor.


    Humiliation painting her white skin with a pale rose blush, she held his gaze, daring him to look down at her nakedness. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He was so close she could feel the blood in his veins, count the rapid beat of his heart.


    "And now you''ve seen it," she said as she stepped away from him and dove into the pool.


    A loud splash followed, and when she surfaced, he was near her, watching her through the steam.


    She opened her body to the warm waters, allowing it to soothe her tired muscles. She held his gaze as she cleaned her body with her hands, daring him to make another crass remark.


    Instead, he swam to the other side of the pool and returned with a flacon of scented oil. "Here, princess," he said, handing it to her.


    "What is it?"


    "To make your silver hair shine. Shall I show you how to use it?"


    Her heart now beat so fast she was sure the Skaard could hear it echoing through the cavern.


    "All right," she answered.


    "Turn around," he said in his husky accented voice.


    Obeying his command, she turned. The heat from his body warmed the water surrounding her, and his fingers, applying the scented oil to her hair, were gentle.


    "How does that feel, princess?"


    "Good," she whispered.


    Now his warm breath tickled the back of her neck as he lifted her hair.


    "How do you feel, Bonn Skaard?" she whispered in a moment of intense daring.


    "Right now," he whispered back, his breath like a feather tickling her neck. "I feel very good, princess."


    He leaned forward, and she knew he was going to kiss her. And at that moment, her protestations melted away, and she realized that there was nothing she wanted more in the world. Still, she had one last layer of defense.


    "Do you mean to take me as your mistress?" she asked, trembling.


    "No."


    Her eyelids fluttered. She was now completely at his command.


    "No, princess. I mean to take you as my wife. If you will have me."

 The Warriors Kiss

    A wail sounded through the cavern, and at first, Starlex thought it was a bat. She had never seen one, but she had heard about them in some of Flenn Illymium''s tales about the caves on Terragonian Bluff. But the splash of water pelting her and Bonn Skaard proved it was no bat. It was Leiffen cannonballing into the steam-filled pool.


    "Your timing is lousy, mate," Bonn Skaard said when his friend surfaced, shaking the wetness from his head like a dog.


    All at once, Bonn leaped from the water and landed on top of his friend. As he playfully held Leiffen''s head below the surface, Starlex took the opportunity to hoist herself up and out of the pool into a deep shadow between two jagged rocks.


    Someone, the old woman she assumed, had left a pile of clothing beneath a burning torch. She pulled the clothes into a puddle of darkness and quickly pulled the clean linen sheath over her head. She stepped into the woolen hose that had been left for her. They were a size and a half too big for her slender limbs, but they would do. Over that went a knitted doublet and, thankfully, a pair of proper leather boots that fit. She threw the fur-lined cape over the ensemble and quickly moved to where sunlight filled the mouth of the cave.


    "Where did my woman go?" Bonn Skaard asked, surfacing and blowing out a stream of water between his wet mustache and beard.


    "Your woman?" Leiffen questioned. "You work fast, mate."


    Humiliated suddenly, she climbed up the rock slide where she had fallen and stumbled into the blinding sunlight.


    What just happened? she asked herself as she returned to the tent where she had slept, not knowing where else to go. Her head was spinning.


    She silently thanked Leiffen for the intrusion. It had saved her from giving herself to Bonn at that moment. Still, her limbs felt weak now, and her body betrayed her mind and good judgment.


    What if I had succumbed to him? Can I trust him?


    And the more important question: Do I love him?


    This notion hit her like a wave. Her knees buckled. All her life, she had been searching for love. The hours she had spent in the library at Oran Tower reading the romances from days past, of the glittering heroes of Mynimium and their ladies fair, of pageants and festivals and flowered wreaths. She didn''t expect her knight to come in the form of a battle-scarred warrior.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    She clutched the cape around her tightly and walked toward the tent.


    What should I do now? she asked herself.


    A sane voice within her replied, Do nothing. Pretend it never happened.


    With the rising sun now bright in her face, she wondered if it really had.


    A sound of thundering hooves broke her reverie. She looked to see three horsemen approaching the encampment. The horses were lathered, and two of the men were badly injured and bleeding.


    The camp suddenly erupted. Starlex stepped aside to observe as the two injured men, one bleeding badly from a neck wound, were taken into a tent to be attended to while the exhausted Skaard breathlessly explained what happened. Starlex couldn''t understand what was being said, but she gauged from reactions that it was bad news.


    Bonn and Leiffen, freshly bathed and dressed in new leather jerkins and furs, ran up to speak to the man. Starlex watched as Bonn''s face darkened as he absorbed the news. He patted the man on his shoulder and bid him sit and eat from their provisions. Then Bonn broke from the group. Starlex followed.


    "What''s happening?" she asked, struggling to keep up with his strides.


    "What''s that, woman?" He quickened his pace, not bothering to turn to look at her.


    She gripped his arm. "I demand to know what is going on."


    He shrugged her off. "Prisoners don''t make demands."


    "So, I am your prisoner now and not your wife?"


    These words stopped the Bonn Skaard in his tracks. He turned to her with narrowed eyes. "The Thrades have attacked Vallyha, the next village from here. I must go now to fight them without the men your king promised me."


    He continued walking toward the make-shift stable.


    She kept pace with him, grabbing his leather sleeve once more. "I will go with you."


    He threw back his head and laughed. "No, princess. You will stay here." He removed her hand from his sleeve, more gently now.


    "If I am indeed to be your wife, then my place is by your side."


    Bonn Skaard picked up the saddle and hoisted it onto the gray stallion''s back. After fastening the girth strap, he paused to gaze at her again. His eyes, the color of ice, softened as he said, "I meant what I said before. Are you saying you will have me as your husband? What is your answer, princess? I have very little time."


    The feeling rushed through her, joining heart and mind. She had her answer. Looking around shyly, making sure they were alone and hidden behind the tall horse''s flank. "Yes, Bonn Skaard. I will be your wife."


    She heard him make a quick intake of breath, and then his lips were upon hers. She had kissed boys before, but never a man. The tickle of his beard and mustache on her face felt odd but also exciting. His kiss was the one spot of warmth within the cold terrain, and she clung to it, never wanting to let it go.

 Reflections

    The sound of running feet crunching through the snow broke their embrace.


    "Hmmm," Bonn said, scanning her face with a loving look. "You''ve given me a reason to stay alive, princess."


    Before Starlex could respond, the Skaard had hoisted himself into the saddle on the back of the tall stallion, and with a sharp battle cry piercing the frigid air, he thundered off into the bright sunlight with Leiffen and a dozen other men riding behind him.


    Her legs moved on their own now without the aid of conscious thought, and Starlex quickly scampered up an ice-covered mound for better vantage. She watched as the small battalion rode away from Rhynforde, tracking them down the narrow road until they disappeared into a cloud of mist.


    What now? she thought, sitting on a rock protruding from the snow. Unfastening the simple silver clasp of her cape, she let it drop off her shoulders and tilted her face to the sun. She closed her eyes and breathed in the crisp air. It cleared her mind in the way the muggy climate of Oran never had.


    I am to be his wife, she thought, feeling the sun''s warmth on her skin.


    Gracious Illym, she prayed silently. Behold your daughter before you offering thanks for your kindness and love. Keep my future husband safe. Let him return to me safely so I may be his wife in flesh as well as spirit.


    She stayed in that place until the sun had dried her tears of gratitude and concern, and then she stood and returned to the camp to ask the women how she could be of some use. Flenn Illymium had taught her some healing arts. Perhaps she could apply it to the injured soldiers.


    As she trudged through the snow, she felt a sense of purpose and a lighter heart than she had ever known.


    I am to be married.


    She wanted to climb the tallest Kadaar peak and shout it to the world, but a lingering worry stayed with her like a burr caught in her shoe.


    He cannot die in battle. He must come back to make me his wife. I can''t have come this far in finding love only to have it taken away from me.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    * * *


    Tylla lay beneath a sweating Roland Davadas biting her lip and gripping the silk sheets as she counted his grunts until through the act. She had never known such pain, such intense humiliation. The wine she had drunk did little to ease her suffering. When her husband was at last finished, he rolled off her and fell immediately into a deep sleep.


    She listened to his snores and gazed at the mural on the ceiling of her bedroom. The flickering candlelight made the depiction of maidens and their satyr pursuers from the days of the old Illymium tribes seem violent and wrong, a depiction of rape. Why had she never noticed before?


    Sickened, she touched herself between her legs and felt the sticky liquid forming there. She brought her fingers to the candlelight and saw the blood.


    At least the sheets would tell the tale of my deflowering. It''s done now.


    She prided herself on being a strong girl, no longer a girl, a woman now. And practical. For this reason alone, she willed herself not to cry. Her new husband groaned with satisfaction and pulled her close to him until she was trapped under his muscular arm with its salty scent. It was a scent she knew she must get used to.


    No doubt he was nervous about this first time, she thought. I was playing the role of the virgin, which technically I was, but perhaps if I gave him some books like the ones Carmelle and I had found on a shelf hidden high in the stacks of the tower library, the ones with the illustrations depicting different body positions for acts of love, titillating uses of fingers and tongues.


    How much Carmelle and I enjoyed that book, she reflected, gazing at the ceiling. How much fun we had practicing the positions in the hayloft of the stables or when we''d ride out to the white beaches beyond the pale forest at night.


    She remembered one night when Carmelle had made love to her so intensely on the moon-kissed sands that she had cried out with abandon, gripping Carmelle so tightly to her that the mother and daughter moons merged in the sky and became one. Then she had done the same to Carmelle, finding even more pleasure in hearing her lover''s cries of satisfaction ringing through the night.


    But thinking of her former lover only depressed her. Still, lying under the cage of her new husband''s heavy arm, she decided she would not be a victim. She would use what power she had to train this man to give HER pleasure, not just take it for himself, and if he wanted to enter her again, he would have to earn it in a hundred ways first.


    Being the beloved gives one the upper hand. Any fool knows that. And this man loves me, and my indifference toward him only gives me strength.


    I will train him as I would my horse.


    She smiled at her newly formed plan. She would not only survive this situation, but she would also become the victor. With these thoughts soothing her mind, Tylla shut her eyes. Glad that this day was at last behind her, she welcomed the oblivion of sleep.

 The War Chamber

    The day after the wedding feast, Hyperia set out to visit Roselynn in the country. The king was against it, but when his wife had shown him his sister''s letter she had received that morning, he relented. Yewen Illymimium had written the letter in Roselynn''s hand, a handy trick among her old advisor''s many talents. In the letter, Roselynn had expressed she was not well and asked specifically for the type of nursing only the queen could provide.


    Scipio Davadas could spare few men these days, so he sent one guard, a boy barely strong enough to lift his sword, to accompany his wife on the journey. Tylla and her new husband would travel with them in a caravan to the country, it was decided, after some debate.


    Hyperia welcomed the plan. It would give her the opportunity to appear as the doting mother assuring her daughter''s happiness in her new home. She would spend several days at the Roland''s home, two leagues beyond the citadel, and then continue to her destination farther in the isolated countryside.


    When he considered it later, Scipio Davadas was happy to be rid of them. The wedding had distracted him from more important things, like the growing conflict with the Nazeers. His battalion had met the enemy on Pendulum road before reaching Mynimium and pushed them back into Crytombe Crags. Although this was a small victory, the Nazeers used the hostile terrain to their advantage, holing up in caves to ambush his men from above.


    The Nazeers weren''t averse to any tactic, including causing rockslides to rain down on their opponents'' heads. One such recent event had taken out ten men and horses, a fact that made his gorge rise like bitter bile as he prepared for his daily meeting with his henchmen. Once Roland Davadas had spent a week with his wife in their new household, he would return to lead a new battalion of reinforcements. Scipio was in the palace war chamber studying the map of Ardelym spread out on a large oval table when Rigel entered.


    "Your Grace," the young Illymimium said, bowing a bit too theatrically.


    "Well?" Scipio did not hide his irritation at the intrusion. "Did you enjoy yourself at my daughter''s wedding feast?"If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Very much so."


    Scipio turned from the map and surveyed Rigel with a critical gaze. "I should think so. You drank your share of wine. Now, what can I do for you?"


    Rigel willed the redness rising in his cheeks to disappear as he took several bold steps toward the king. "The question is, what can I do for you."


    The creases between the king''s eyebrows deepened. "I''m not in the mood for riddles. Speak plainly."


    "I wish to be a soldier, sir."


    Scipio laughed and swung back to the map. "Your brain is addled from too many late nights with your friends."


    "I am willing to begin my training, your grace. Today."


    "Your body is too soft for fighting, my son."


    "Try me."


    The king turned. "I can see you want to help, and that is a noble gesture. One that I appreciate, but Oran would be better served if you use what gifts you have."


    "And what are they, in your opinion?" It was an honest question. Rigel really had no idea what his gifts were, other than having a propensity for merrymaking.


    Scipio Davadas rubbed the short stubble on his chin. "You are an Illymium. It is for your homeland we are now fighting. If you really want to help, use your Illyminum powers to help Oran gain an advantage over those Nazeer brutes."


    A flame of hope rose in Rigel''s breast. It never occurred to him that he had any powers. To have it acknowledged by the king gave him a surge of sudden confidence. "I will use whatever powers I possess. I will serve any way I can, your grace."


    The king clasped Rigel''s shoulders. "Glad to hear it, my son. Here is your task, and it''s a secret one."


    Rigel''s heart raced. "I''m listening."


    "Go to Oran tower and speak with Flenn Illymium. They aren''t well."


    Rigel nodded. He knew it to be the case when he observed the ancient seer barely able to sit upright in their chair at Tylla"s wedding. "But how can I help Flenn?"


    Scipio stepped away with a shrug. "That is for you to figure out. Learn Flenn''s secrets if you can. We need a new seer. Perhaps it''s you."


    Rigel gulped. He knew that wasn''t true. But still, legend had it that anyone with Illymium blood had the power of Illym within him. Could he possibly learn to fly among the stars as Flenn once boasted?


    His back straightened as he said, "I will go to the tower and consult with Flenn at once."


    "Good," Scipio said, gazing again at the map. "And report back to me any news you think will help our cause."


    Rigel bowed his assent and headed quickly for the door, eager to begin his new assignment.


    So I won''t be a soldier after all, he thought, heading for the pulley car that would whisk him to the top of Oran Tower. But I will learn that old Illymium''s secrets if it''s the last thing I do. I will make myself indispensable to Oran, and I will earn the respect back to my people.

 The Thrades

    From the Illymium Codex


    The Thrades, a race of beings as old as Ardelym herself, once ruled the land. But Illym was displeased with their crude and warring ways so he released the dragon Quetzex from the Great Vulcan, in exchange for allowing her and her issue a brief period of freedom every Zar. Like an obedient daughter, Quetzex did as Illym commanded and incinerated the beasts with her fiery breath. But two Thrades, a male and a female, managed to escape. Clinging to a piece of driftwood, they crossed and Crimson Seas and settled north of the frozen peaks of Kadaar in the Jotur Forest. Many Zars later, the citizens of Ardelym assumed the Thrades had become extinct or had never lived at all beyond the pages of ancient Mynimium picture books. But from that one couple, a diabolical clan was born. Their thorny hides adapted easily to the harsh climate and throughout the many Zars of their existence, they grew in number. Illym replaced their kind with the gentle and spiritual Illymiums, created in his own image. But the Thrades¡¯ never forgot Illym¡¯s ill-treatment of them. Not equipped to take on a god, they set their sights on his other creations instead, like a vengeful bastard brother. Their hatred growing in tandem with their strength and numbers, the Thrades set out to reclaim what had once been theirs. They gathered an army of the strongest among them, and headed south toward the people of Kadaar.


    The Thrades


    A fortnight had passed and still, there was no word from Bonn Skaard. In desperation, the Skaards at Rhynforde sent out a scout, a boy of no more than thirteen, to check on Vallyha. After three days had passed and the boy hadn''t returned, a pall fell over Rhynforde, now consisting of women, children, the elderly, and the few wounded soldiers still recovering within the healer''s tent. The healer''s name was Bratag; her deeply lined face was a map of wisdom offset by twinkling blue eyes.


    A young man named Tagar, wounded in the first attack, died in agony while Starlex sat at his bedside, trying in vain to comfort him. The deep gashes on his neck had become infected and the only relief she could offer him was draughts of whiskey that he drank deeply from before unconsciousness overtook him. He was from a village deep within Jotur, a part of Kadaar where only the hardiest men and women eked out their existence. Starlex had heard of tales of the beast-laden forest so thick the sunlight couldn''t pierce its canopy.


    After Tagar drew his last breath and his body was dragged to an open field and set ablaze in the Kadaar custom, Starlex returned, with a heavy heart, to Bratag''s tent to crush herbs for medicines. The people of Ryneforde had managed to squirrel away quite a bit of food stock within their makeshift forts. Among the dry goods, she discovered a store of herbs. Black Whjycker root which she remembered from her lessons in Oran tower, was a natural pain reliever. It would help ease the agony of the wounded and dying.


    She tried focusing on her task, ignoring the icy wind whipping through the tent walls. Despite her best efforts, her mind wandered to dark thoughts, of Bonn Skaard lying dead and frozen on the ground, of the Thrades moving toward their encampment.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The Thrades were ancient beings, older than Illymiums even. So old, most of Ardelym thought they existed only in the pages of ancient books and mural walls. She shuddered when she recalled the images of the creatures with their scaly skin, clawed appendages, and red blazing eyes.


    The explosion of the Great Vulcan many Zars ago had pushed the last of the Thrades from Ardelym''s most fertile lands to deep within the Jotur Forest. Quetzex followed them there, so the legend went, the dragon''s breath searing a barren perimeter around the dense, frozen woods. But still, the Thrades survived. They survived on roots, animals they hunted, and when they could get them, man.


    And what did these creatures want? Starlex recalled asking Flenn Illymium this question once. Flenn replied the Thrades wanted the same thing men wanted: to thrive, to multiply, to have sovereignty over the land and other beings.


    It made sense and seemed simple enough, but at how far would the Thrades be willing to go to achieve these goals? Would they not stop before all of Ardelym would belong to them? And if that''s so, would not Illym intervene?


    Starlex now wished he had asked Flenn Illymium more about these diabolical creatures and what was the best way to fight them. Flenn would know.


    When she had finished crushing the herbs, she told several of the women working alongside her that she would return shortly. She had learned enough of their native tongue to communicate with them.


    She found the people of Rhynforde to be jolly souls despite the current hardship facing them. They did not treat her, as an Illymium, with the distant coldness she was accustomed to. In fact, they welcomed her warmly, offering her food, a dress made from soft suede, fur-lined boots, and a comfortable tent with two dogs to keep her warm at night.


    She guessed this had much to do with Bonn Skaard''s status among his people. It must have taken great humility, she reasoned as she pulled back the tent flap and braced herself for the blast of frigid air, for Bonn Skaard to leave his land and people when they needed him the most to come to Oran during the Zar celebration and plead his case to the king.


    I was the wager, Starlex thought sadly. And Oran turned her back on him.


    She climbed a snow-covered hill as she did every evening when her work was done. Sitting on top of a high rock, with the setting sun warming her back, she could see far into the distance over the Crimson Sea.


    I can almost see Oran Tower from here.


    She wondered what her friends were doing.


    Had Tylla mended her broken heart over Carmelle? Was Rigel safe?


    She didn''t think much about Hyperia. She knew her sister would always survive.


    Turning in the other direction, she faced the biting wind. Beyond the foothills of Kadaar, stood the Jotur Forest. It was within these impenetrable woods that her love would be fighting the Thrades. She spotted small circles of smoke among the black mass of trees, wondering if they were from the fires of war or if it were only mist.


    Waiting was almost as bad as dying, she thought, then immediately banished the idea from her mind. Nothing would be worse than facing a Thrade in the flesh. Looking down at the fires of the encampment she realized how vulnerable they now were.


    If Bonn Skaard and the other men fail at fighting back the Thrades, they will be coming for us next.

 Lessons in the Tower

    Rigel moved into Oran Tower, sleeping in a small antechamber in the library where the window opened to face the stars. An eager pupil, Rigel was prepared to learn under Flenn''s tutelage. But the ancient seer had barely stirred from their divan for half a moon, rousing only occasionally to nibble on fruit and cheese and take small sips of sassafras tea. He attempted to begin his own course of study by selecting books randomly from the library shelves. But many of the volumes were so dull he couldn''t pay attention and would soon discard the heavy tomes with their cracked leather bindings and spend hours gazing through Flenn''s spyglass where he would count the craters on La Gune''s surface with only Raki to keep him company.


    Rigel would sometimes count the ancient''s seer''s breath or check their pulse beneath the thin, translucent skin. Once, in a flash of fear, Rigel was convinced Flenn had expired, but he was able to rouse them with a special potion he had concocted from a text on mixing herbs, all of which were readily available in the tower stock room.


    "So, you''re an alchemist now, eh?" Flenn Illymium uttered after Rigel managed to pour a spoonful of the potion down their throat.


    Rigel was so happy to see his friend awake, he performed a solo dance around the tower, which caused the parched corners of Flenn''s mouth to crack into a slanted smile.


    As soon as he got Flenn''s attention, Rigel explained breathlessly about his assignment, that he wanted to learn everything he could to help Oran fight the Nazeers, that he had put his libertine days behind him, that he wanted to learn magic.


    "Easy, my boy," Flenn said, waving their spindly white fingers through the air misted with clouds wafting in from the open balcony. "Hand me a blank parchment and a pen. Be quick about it."


    "Yes, master," Rigel said, flying across the room to retrieve the items.


    "Now," said Flenn with a whistled breath. "Write this down."


    "Ready, master."


    "Start with the history of Ardelym beginning with volume one. You''ll find it on the second shelf in the third stack. You''ll know it by its oxblood binding."


    "How many volumes are there?¡±


    "Twenty," Flenn piped.


    "Twenty?" Rigel repeated, crestfallen.


    "When you''ve finished carefully reading all twenty volumes, wake me up." Flenn''s chin dropped to their chest and within seconds the old mage was snoring through their beard.


    Excited to receive some instruction, Rigel lit a fresh candle, perched himself atop Flenn''s high stool, laid the heavy volume on the desk, and began to read all about the origins of his home planet. Luckily, the handprinted type was large and easy to read. And there were illustrations as well, beautiful hand-colored etchings. He read of Illym and the Illymium race and of the Thrades, who had been banished to the Jotur forest where they had remained for many Zars.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "Until now," Rigel thought, turning the page to gaze at a full-colored etching of the man-beast with its scaly skin, sharp claws and teeth. He had heard of the Skaard''s plea for Oran''s aid in fighting fresh Thrade attacks.


    Raki startled Rigel when she took off from her perch with a heavy flap of wings in search of her nightly dinner along the river banks. He sat back on the stool and rubbed his tired eyes.


    Scipio had called back the troops, he mused, not knowing that there is a far greater threat in our midst than the Nazeers trying to take possession of Mynimium. If the Thrades conquer Kadaar and seize their ships, what''s stopping them from crossing the sea to Oran? After all, they''d only be reclaiming what was originally theirs.


    He read on throughout the night and was awakened early the next morning, not by Flenn Illymium or even Raki''s caw, but by a servant, a fresh-faced Nazeer of nineteen named Dondi, who arrived at the tower room door with a breakfast tray laden with freshly baked bread, steaming eggs, and sausage.


    Rigel usually had to travel down to the main dining hall and fend for himself. He wondered who had arranged for the boy to come to him. He had his answer when the lad dropped a letter beside the tea urn.


    "What''s this?"


    The boy''s shy gaze beneath shaggy red hair reminded Rigel of Jabe and his heart fluttered. "Your mail, sir."


    Rigel eyed the letter, instantly recognizing the thin, somewhat shaky, hand as his former lover''s.


    "Wait, please." Turning his back on the boy, Rigel walked to the balcony. Passing Flenn still asleep on the divan, he parted the heavy brocade drapes keeping the wind from ruffling the pages of the library books and stepped outside.


    Gripping the letter tightly to keep a cool gust from snatching it away, Rigel read Jabe''s message informing him, briefly and somewhat coldly it seemed to Rigel, of his imminent marriage to the farm girl, Tessa.


    Rigel was expecting this bit of news, but still, the words stung. Jabe made the right choice, the sensible choice. Everyone in Ardelym knew that something tolerated as youthful folly had severe punishments for adults. Rigel knew his days of caprice were over.


    He read the letter again to make sure he absorbed its message, then tore the paper into tiny scraps. Opening his hand to let the wind claim his secret, he wondered bitterly why he couldn''t live in a world where it was acceptable for him and Jabe to live together as lovers. Or Tylla and Carmelle for that matter.


    Poor Carmelle, he thought, pushing aside the heavy curtain and returning to the now stifling warm tower room.


    The boy, Dondi, stood awkwardly by the door while Rigel went to his desk to write a short note of congratulations, hoping he would communicate to Jabe his true feelings, that he still loved him and always would.


    As he pressed the drop of red wax with the Oran seal he mused, I suppose someone will be pushing a plump girl in my direction any day now. I''m surprised it hasn''t happened already.


    Sighing deeply, he turned from his desk and held out the letter to Dondi. "Please deliver this posthaste."


    Fingers trembling, Dondi took the letter.


    "And when you''re finished¡ª" Rigel held the boy''s gaze.


    "Yes, sir?"


    Eyes twinkling, Rigel continued, "Please return to help me bathe and dress."


    Dondi''s face broke into a wide smile, causing dimples to crease his smooth, plump cheeks. "Right away, sir."

 Terrogonian Bluff

    Tylla was indeed relieved to have her young husband deployed to fight the Nazeers, and she was even more relieved to have her moon blood appear the day after he left. Despite him rolling on top of her every night, she had dodged that arrow for now. She did manage to train him to be a more gentle, less selfish lover but he still had a long way to go.


    He was kind though and doting, with large brown eyes that followed her lovingly around their handsome stone home. It featured airy rooms and three servants to maintain it. Bored most days, Tylla spent her time in the garden or riding Sola, Starlex¡¯s white mare. If Starlex ever returned, she would give the horse back to her. But Tylla doubted she would ever see her strange, pale-haired aunt again.


    She made it a daily custom to ride in the afternoon. Her young husband insisted a groom, an ambitious young man named Davar Nazeer accompany her, but she tried to pretend she was alone. The countryside was beautiful, and one fine day she decided to ride all the way to Terragonian Bluff.


    At first, Davar insisted it wasn¡¯t safe. There were too many crazed Illymiums living there and they would think nothing of pulling a rider from her horse if it would put whiskey in their bellies for the night.


    Tylla reminded the young man that, despite her dark Davadas looks, she was in fact half Illymium and he should be more respectful. She used his deep blush and apology to gain leverage and soon she was flying on Sola¡¯s back along the high green bluff.


    The view of the sea was stunning, the elevation so high so could see clear over the peaks of Kadaar into the black Jodur Forest itself, lying like a dark, misty pool beneath icy clouds.


    ¡°Don¡¯t push your horse too much, milady,¡± Davar said, catching up with her from atop his chestnut gelding.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re no fun,¡± Tylla said, bringing Sola to a rearing halt then sliding off her back to the mossy ground. ¡°Time to eat. You¡¯re hungry, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Starving,¡± he said, shaking the wind from his strawberry blonde hair as he dismounted.


    She could tell from Davar¡¯s lingering gaze that he was already half in love with her.


    Maybe I should tell these men right away that I am simply not interested in what they carry in their trousers, that I find it odd and cumbersome and frankly, comical.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Or maybe¡­


    She fixed Davar with a wide and dazzling smile as she pulled the satchel from her saddle, I should just enjoy bringing this young man to heel. I am my mother¡¯s daughter after all.


    * * * *


    Hyperia was restless and bored after spending several weeks at Roselynn Davadas¡¯ country home. Her sister-in-law¡¯s constant chattering was draining.


    Roselynn''s pregnancy had advanced to a state where she rarely left her bed. Hyperia insisted on performing the nursing duties herself. All of the daily irritations only strengthen Hyperia¡¯s resolve to be rid of her annoying sister-in-law when the time came at last.


    Yewen Illymium, who spent most of the day either in the small library or the garden where he cultivated mysterious herbs, assured the queen during their private conversations that when the time came, he would give Roselynn a sleeping draft from which she would never awake.


    ¡°A most, pleasant, painless death,¡± he assured her.


    Hyperia didn¡¯t know if you could endure it for another three moons. Every few days, she sent a letter by raven to Oran palace. Roselynn was still too ill for her to come home, she¡¯d explain. When the king expressed husbandly concern about her own condition, Hyperia brightly replied that she was right as rain and that their son was kicking up a storm inside her belly. She knew this would please him. As for Roselynn, she pampered her every whim, but always with an eye on her growing belly, praying to Illym that her sister-in-law was carrying a male child.


    She knew Scipio was busy with the Nazeer aggression; Oran¡¯s forces had managed to contain their opponents within Crytombe Crags. The few citizens remaining within her home city walls were those who stubbornly refused to relocate, mostly older Illymiums as well as some tradesmen still peddling the exotic scents and spices for which the ancient city was known.


    Hyperia wouldn¡¯t mind if the entire lot of them just keeled over and dissolved into the Arki Desert¡¯s pink sands. But she would hate to see Nazeers take it over. Scipio should have never left it in that condition, abandoned and vulnerable.


    Instead of fortifying Oran, we should be expanding her empire, finding a way to get the Sylvan River flowing again. Then Mynimium could once again become Ardelym¡¯s finest jewel.


    Sitting by Roselynn¡¯s bedside with a neglected piece of embroidery in her lap, Hyperia eyed her snoring sister-in-law¡¯s belly heaving like a bellows.


    This child will set all of Ardelym right again, she thought. He will fulfill the prophecy of Illym. The reason my god hasn¡¯t struck me down for my sins is that he knows it¡¯s right and good.


    But for now, she picked up her needle. I must be patient.


    Roselynn stirred with a blubbering belch on her lips, causing Hyperia to start and stick her finger with the needle. She watched the drop of her bluish Illyminium blood plop onto the linen handkerchief and spread out like a blooming rose.


    One day, all of Ardelym will thank me for what I¡¯m about to do.

 Attack!

    It was near dusk and bitterly cold. Starlex was by one of the outside fires making a cup of strong tea to bring to Batag, the old healer in the village, when she saw the young Skaard scout staggering into the encampment. His footsteps slowed to a sudden halt, and with a groan, he pitched forward. A cloud of snow puffed as he landed on his hands and knees. Starlex set down the tea and rushed to his side. When she reached him he had rolled onto his back, his ice-blue eyes skyward, the light in them dimming in the waning light. She leaned in to help him and reeled back in horror.


    Something had slashed him from throat to waist, clean through his leather jerkin. The blood rushed from his wounds, staining the snow around in him in a dark red cloud.


    A few elderly men appeared, picked up the boy, and carried him to Batag''s tent, but their movements lacked urgency as if they knew it was a lost cause.


    Starlex held a torch over the cot where the boy lay unconscious while Batag peeled back his torn jerkin. Starlex had never in her life seen such a wound. The boy''s blood-soaked hands held in his guts.


    A Skaard word bubbled on the boy''s lips and then he closed his eyes. He took a quick, ragged breath, then died.


    "Did he say ''mother''?" Starlex whispered.


    "Yes," old Batag replied with a deep sigh. "She and the father were killed by the Thrades four moons ago."


    There was a moment of silence, filled only by the crack of the firepot.


    "Do you think the Thrades are close?" Starlex asked, her voice low and throaty.


    Batag shrugged, replying in the common tongue, "This boy may have walked far. His wounds look fresh though. Hopefully, it was only one Thrade. They sometimes stray from the rest and come into the camp looking for food."


    Starlex was afraid to inquire about what kind of diet the creatures preferred.


    Batag set a candle in a holder of carved bone at the boy''s head and began to recite a prayer in the Skaard tongue. Starlex bowed her head and prayed too, not knowing the words but feeling their meaning.


    When she left the tent an hour later, her heart was heavy. The sharp wind stung her cheeks as it whipped through the camp. The firelight flickered as it fought against the wind.


    She was moving toward her own tent when she spotted Wallick, a thin old man with a bent back and a long white beard. His trembling hand pointed at where the road disappeared into the darkness. "The Thrades are coming," he whispered. "I can smell them."Stolen novel; please report.


    Starlex sniffed the air. Above the familiar tang of icy and sea was burnt smoke, and something else, something rank. A smell of decay she knew from the times she would stumble upon a dead animal in the woods.


    Wallick cupped his hand to his mouth and in the Skaard tongue shouted, "To the caves!"


    The camp exploded into action. Someone blew a horn. Torchlight reflected off the ice-covered ground as people ran from their tents clutching dangling children to their chests. A family rushed past Starlex, knocking her off her feet into a snowbank. Dazed, she stared at the glowering sky, forgetting for a moment the danger all around her.


    A sound of thundering hooves broke her confusion as she crab-walked backward to get away from the encroaching stampede. The riders entered the firelight. Leading the charge, wild-eyed and dripping sweat and blood, was Bonn Skaard. Spotting Starlex crawling in the snow, he leaned out of the saddle, stretched, and pulled her onto the gray stallion''s back.


    She barely had time to grip him tightly about the waist when a monster fell upon them, a black wall of stench and power punctuated by red, blazing eyes.


    The point of Bonn''s dagger bounced off its thick scaly skin, before finding the space between its eyes and plunging in. With a groan, the Thrade fell forward, red ooze sliding down its face.


    Starlex winced with fear and revulsion as Bonn turned the stallion in a tight circle. Several Skaard soldiers appeared, including Leiffen on foot. He shouted at the others to fall back as he shot a flaming at a line of three Thrades moving toward them with swatting paws tipped with nails as long and sharp as spears.


    One Skaard on horseback charged at the line, his sword whirling overhead. One Thrade swatted it away like a toy and opened the Skaard''s chest with the fan of its claws. He fell from his horse with an agonized cry and was dead before he hit the ground.


    As Starlex clung to his leather jerkin, Bonn heeled the stallion to a gallop. One of the creatures approached from the rear, combing its claws through Starlex''s silver hair. As her head jerked back with searing pain, Bonn turned in his saddle and jammed his dagger between the Thrade''s eyes.


    Starlex watched horrified as the monster sank behind them, uttering a howling groan as Bonn dug in his heels and ran the horse to the high hills.


    When they reached the jagged promontory of gray rock, Bonn slid off the horse, pulling Starlex to the ground.


    "Get to the cavern!¡± he shouted.


    She ran blindly toward the bulging mountain. Training her eyes on a flaming torch at the mouth of the cave, she climbed toward it. Bonn called for Leiffen, and soon he was by his side, raining down fire-tipped arrows on the advancing Thrades.


    Her heart beating wildly, Starlex followed the torchlight to the mouth of the cave.


    She stumbled down the icy ramp until she was within the cavern. There she found the people of Rhynforde huddled together around the steaming pool.


    She approached the old man, Wallick. He was sitting alone on a boulder lighting his pipe with a trembling hand.


    Batag appeared by his side, her wrinkled face ashen beneath her fur cowl. "I''ve sent the others on the underground paths," she spoke with a quavering voice. "We are too old and frail to make the journey. We will stay here to face our fate." She reached out and clasped the old man''s hand. He looked up at her with sad, twinkling with love in the low torchlight eyes.


    Starlex turned to see a line of women and children slowly moving beyond the pool toward a black tunnel carved into the rock. A middle-aged mother carrying a torch led the way.


    "You better go with them," Wallick said with a grumble. "You''ll never make it through those caves alone."


    "No," Starlex said, training her eyes on the mouth of the cave opening to the dimming sky. "I will stay here and wait."

 The Crystal Cathedral

    By the time Leiffen stumbled into the ice cavern, the candle the old man held had burnt to a stub. A green, phosphorescent mist floated over the large pool. Leiffen kneeled before it and drank a handful of water, then splashed some on his face.


    Starlex watched the mouth of the cave nervously until at last Bonn appeared. Peeling back his sweat-soaked jerkin, the Skaard warrior staggered toward the pool. Starlex ran to meet him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she helped him to the water''s edge. He sat down, exhausted, his elbows resting on his knees, his breath coming out in white puffs.


    "Did you get them all?" Wallick asked in a tremulous voice.


    Bonn nodded. "For now." Panting hard, he turned to Leiffen and said, "Better call them back."


    "Of course, mate." Groaning, Leiffen got to his feet, skirted around the pool, grabbed a torch, and disappeared into the tunnel. He whistled after the fleeing women and children.


    "You sill here, princess?" Bonn asked with a short laugh.


    "Yes, by your side where I belong."


    He smiled and drew her to him. "Let''s have a kiss."


    Their lips met and the world dissolved around them.


    "I love you, princess," he whispered in her ear.


    "You do?" Her voice was husky, breathless.


    She looked around to see if anyone was watching.


    Wallick and Bratag sat together on a rock at the pool''s edge. Her gray head rested on his shoulder.


    Starlex snuggled closer to Bonn and asked, "Are all the Thrades dead?"


    He nodded. "But more will come."


    "When?"


    "Don''t know. Could be a week; could be a day."


    "Should we return to camp tonight?"


    "No," he said standing. "Tonight we stay here."


    From the black mouth of the tunnel came flickering torchlight. Leiffen was leading the people back.


    "Come." Bonn reached down and pulled Starlex to her feet. He picked up a torch, lit its tip in the fire, and led her up a rough stairway carved into the damp rock-face.


    "Where are we going?"


    "Someplace private," he replied with a slanted smile.


    She followed him. Deep within a black rock mountain, it felt like no one could harm them, that they were safe, safe in each other''s company.


    Crouching to not hit his head on the rocky ceiling, he clasped her hand tightly. When at last they reached the end of the tight tunnel, Bonn handed Starlex the torch so he could squeeze through a tiny crevice.


    "I was just a boy," he said with a grunt, "skinnier than you the last time I was here."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Her giggle echoed off the rocks as she slipped easily through the crack behind him. When Bonn stopped suddenly in front of her, she looked up and gasped as he raised the torch over their heads.


    They were standing in the center of a crystal cave, its rock walls, floor, and ceiling sparkled like multi-colored jewels, holographic hues of red, purple, blue, and green.


    "It''s beautiful," she whispered.


    Bonn set the torch into a tight crack in the wall. "The first time I saw you standing before that Nazeer fool wearing that gold crown too big for his head I thought of this place."


    "You did?"


    "I did," he said, pulling her close. Running a rough hand along her soft cheek he added, "The way your eyes shine."


    His warm kiss was upon her lips and suddenly their fur-lined capes fell from their shoulders, making a bed on the rocky floor. The lovers lowered themselves on it, melting into each other''s arms. Starlex''s skin trembled with pleasure beneath Bonn''s calloused caresses, her throat arched to his rough kisses.


    She gazed up at the ceiling, higher than any Oran temple. It spun like a kaleidoscope of oscillating shades of crystal light with their bodies at the center.


    "I can''t take you, princess," he said, rolling off her with a groan.


    "Don''t you want me?" she asked.


    "Little fool," he chuckled. "I want you more than life itself, but not until you are my proper wife."


    She wanted nothing more than that, but when would it happen?


    "Stay still," he whispered.


    She lay back gazing at the shimmering ceiling while his hands traveled slowly up her legs. Her breath caught when his fingers found the tender flesh above her wool stockings and slowly pulled them down to her knees. Her hips arched upward to meet his caresses. She gasped as he parted her legs and his mouth lowered on her.


    Never had she felt so known, so vulnerable. It was what she had always longed for. There, within their private crystal cathedral, their feelings for each other were revealed and sanctified.


    At last, I found love, she thought, her slim white fingers weaving through his long blonde locks. Each caress released her more and more with quick catches of breath building to a final moan of pleasure that echoed off the jeweled walls.


    "I love you," she gasped, clutching his muscular arm that was capable of such deadly strength, yet had just given her pleasure beyond what she had ever known.


    "I love you too, princess," he said in a low rough-textured voice.


    With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, she curled up against his chest and fell into a sweet sleep breathing in his scent.


    When she awoke, the flame of the torch had dimmed and Bonn Skaard was propped up on one elbow and looking down at her with love shining in his ice-blue eyes.


    "Can''t you sleep?" she asked.


    "Not yet, princess."


    "What are you thinking about?"


    He sighed and sat up, resting his arms against his knees. She watched the flickering torchlight dance across his rippled muscles. Reaching out with her fingers, she traced the outline of a fresh scar.


    "I''m thinking about what can I offer you," he said.


    She sat up and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You can offer me you. That''s all I want."


    "I want to give you much more, princess."


    "I wanted to ask you..." she started hesitatingly.


    "Go on."


    "About your wife and son."


    She felt his muscles stiffen beneath her fingers.


    "I only ask because..."


    He sighed.


    "If it''s too painful..."


    "My village is called Yarhtah, further north along the coast."


    "Is it not famous for shipbuilding?"


    His jaw hardened beneath his beard. "That is all in the past now. The Thrades attacked last spring. I was out fishing when it happened. When I returned, our homes and most of our fleet were destroyed, burned to ash. My wife and son¡ªmy entire family¡ªgone."


    The only sounds were their breaths and water dripping from the ceiling.


    Starlex said softly, "I know nothing will ever erase the pain of their loss, but if I can help..."


    He turned to her and smiled. "You''ve already helped, princess."


    She snuggled close to him. "I''m glad. But I''d like to do more. I want to help your people."


    "How?"


    "My brother-in-law, the king, greatly wronged you when he went back on his promise. If I were to return to Oran and tell him the truth of what I''ve seen, of how close the Thrades are to crossing the Crimson Sea, of threatening Oran herself, I know he will listen to me."


    Bonn¡¯s eyes glistened with hope.


    "Do you approve of this plan?" she asked. "Will you take me back to Oran?"


    Purring like a playful lion, he rolled on his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. "I approve. We will start out for Yarhtah in the morrow."


    Succumbing to exhaustion, at last, Bonn closed his eyes.


    Gazing at the waning torchlight dancing on the crystal ceiling, Starlex raked her fingers through the tangles of Bonn''s golden hair and sang him softly to sleep. Although she was homeless and in a place of great danger, she had never felt such happiness in all her life.

 Yarhtah

    The night after the Thrades attacked Rhynforde, a meeting was held. The citizens cast their votes and it was decided they would abandon the tiny village that had been left in tatters and travel up the coast to Yarhtah, using the caves and natural tunnels as protection.


    Early the next morning, after an uneasy rest by the mineral pool with men taking turns guarding the mouth of the cave, the refugees, some so frail they needed to be carried over the rougher sections of the caves, began to sojourn. They traveled through the mountain tunnel paths for two dark and hungry days and nights until rejoicing with a hearty cheer when sunlight was spotted at the end of the tunnel high on the northern coast. They camped for one night, eating the last of the root vegetables some of the women had been able to salvage during the attack. The humble repast scarcely quieted the roars in their stomachs, but they pressed on the following day, traveling up the coast until they had reached the burned-out shell of Bonn Skaard''s village.


    Twenty bedraggled troops had found their way down the sheer mountain face after another attack had killed half their men and set up camp at what remained of Yarhtah. They had been part of Bonn Skaard''s original battalion, left scattered through the Kadaar mountains during the initial onslaught. The men who weren''t badly injured had already filled the village food stores with fresh fish, grains, and vegetables. For the first time in weeks, the group filled their bellies.


    Flagons of wine were passed from hand to hand, and in the warmth of the firelight, with their bodies refreshed and Leiffen piping a soft tune on his flute, a sense of normality returned.


    But Starlex knew the pleasant feeling of security was fleeting. The Thrades would reach them eventually. They needed reinforcements from Scipio''s army.


    With a disquietude gnawing at her, she shifted her focus to helping the women put children to bed while the Skaard soldiers remained in counsel around the fire. Bonn was laying out his plan to salvage one of their least damaged ships to sail to Oran. It would take time to make it seaworthy.


    That night as she lay in one of the burned-out bungalows with a makeshift roof draped with hides, Starlex allowed herself to dream about becoming Bonn Skaard''s wife. She would need the king''s permission to do it properly. Hyperia would have much to say about it.


    Too much to say. She would rather me die an old maiden than married to a Skaard.


    In her sister''s opinion, Skaards were worse than Nazeers because at least Nazeers could be trained. The Skaards had an independent nature of which Hyperia disapproved. Skaards lived life on their own terms, in their own land, supported their families, and worshipped the snow-crusted ground beneath their feet more than any god in the sky. And now, they were in the humiliating position of having to ask for help.


    * * *Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Starlex had barely slept an hour when the pink light of dawn pierced a rip in the tent. She sat up, stirring the dogs asleep at her feet. Because they were not married, she and Bonn did not share a bungalow. She wondered when, or if, he was going to ask her. In Oran tradition, a man would need permission from his intended''s father. She was unsure of what the Skaard tradition was, and so far no one had clued her in, not even Bonn.


    Has he changed his mind about wanting to marry me? she wondered anxiously.


    Needing a strong cup of Skaard tea to clear her head, Starlex threw back the fur covering her, stood, and stretched till her fingers grazed the roof. Folding back the hide flap used as a door, she stepped gingerly into the morning light. The glistening snow covered every surface, nearly blinding her. But the scent of tea penetrated the frigid air, and she followed its spicy aroma to the community fire.


    Wallick and Batag were already up and cooking breakfast.


    She wished them good morrow while she warmed herself near the flames.


    "Sit with us for a while," old Wallick said in a whistling voice. "There''s not much else to do but wait."


    The village was positioned on a high plateau so close to the sea that Starlex could hear the waves lapping against the rocky cliffs.


    Thanking him, she sat down and accepted the cup of tea Batag offered. It was a strong brew. Delicious.


    She turned to Batag and in the Skaard tongue said, "You''re a gifted herbalist."


    The old woman shrugged. "I''ve learned a few things in my time."


    "May I ask, are you two married?"


    The old couple''s crinkled eyes met over the flames, and they both chuckled.


    "I''m sorry," Starlex said. "I hope I didn''t offend you."


    "We Skaards don''t marry," chuckled Batag. "At least not in the way they do on the mainland."


    "But you two are a couple?" she continued, her face flush with embarrassment.


    "We''ve been together forty-four years," Wallick said, lifting his gaze to the sky as he calculated.


    "But how did you become man and¡ª?" Starlex asked with a stammer. "What I mean is, how do you make it official?"


    Batag''s blue eyes sparkled. "As long as the man is free, and you''re not stealing him from anyone else," she waved a gnarled finger at Starlex, "and you have a pretty good idea he feels the same way as you, you simply walk up to him and say, ''I am your wife.''"


    "But I already told him ''I will be your wife,''" replied Starlex, her cheeks warming as the old couple erupted in chuckles.


    "That''s putting it in the future," Batag said. "Say, ''I am your wife'' and it happens right now." She stomped her leather boot into the snow.


    "That''s it?"


    Batag blew on her tea, took a long sip, and said with a shrug, "That''s it."


    "You mean it''s my choice?"


    "Of course," said Batag. "You think he''d ever get around to doing it?" She pointed at her husband who dismissed her with a wave of his hand.


    So, I''d been waiting for him to tell me about the custom or marriage when all I needed to do was...


    She stood so quickly, the teacup tumbled from her hand, staining her leather skirt. Wallick and Batag laughed again, but she didn''t care if she appeared foolish.


    She thanked them, and careful not to slip in the snow, she jogged down a narrow path to the shipyard where Bonn and his men slept.


    She ran to Bonn''s tent and pulled back the tent flap. His ice-blue eyes popped open. His mouth formed an O between his beard and mustache.


    "I am your wife," she said, her heart beating like a bird in a cage waiting only for his release.


    He watched hungrily as she quickly removed each layer of her Skaard clothing.


    "Come on," he growled and flapped back the fur cover where he lay naked underneath.


    She dove in next to him.


    "What took you so long, princess?" He whispered as he pulled her into his strength and warmth.

 On the Wings of Magic

    The weather at Yarhtah was milder than in other parts of Kadaar. Protected from the icy mountains gales by lees of black rock, warm breezes wafted off the sea and helped to grow wheat along the highlands, which the Yarhtah women turned into delicious flatbreads baked in outdoor ovens.


    It took two moons for Bonn and the other Skaard men to build the ship to take them to Oran. Starlex didn''t mind the wait. Her days filled with wholesome activity and laughter, her nights with passionate lovemaking with her new husband. But she knew it wouldn''t last forever. The Thrades would certainly return.


    * * *


    Rigel made good use of his time in the tower. Flenn Illymium recovered their vigor enough to teach him the rudimentary arts of trans-omniscience. Rigel wanted to fly as high as Raki''s wings would take him, swooping high and low over the Crimson Sea. But when Flenn assured him he''d end up at the bottom of the sea if he were to try it, Rigel relented and agreed to start with a tiny dormouse the old seer had caught under his teacup one afternoon.


    The operation was a success and Rigel experienced the joys of scurrying around the floor like a tiny creature until Flenn''s Tomcat, Miko, padded into the tower library and immediately gave chase. Nearly devoured, Rigel hid behind a stack of books waiting in terror until Flenn discovered the reversal spell.


    Rigel spent days in bed recovering from the ordeal. Flenn told him although it was unfortunate, it was a blessing in disguise because it underscored the danger of such a transformation. Rigel assured them he would never again underestimate its power.


    During his training, Rigel formed a special bond with Raki. Flenn had warned him about overconfidence, but Rigel could barely restrain his joy when he first lifted off from the balcony railing of Oran tower and pierced the white clouds with Raki''s long beak.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Once he progressed to where he was able to psychically merge with the bird, he would fly all the way to Mynimium and report back to the king the progress of Oran''s troops. Once a raven was trained to follow a route, it never deviated. But a man at one with a Lila bird was unstoppable.


    Unless he were to happen upon a dragon. According to the latest reports, Quetex was last spotted over the farthest regions of Kadaar. Many feared the ancient beast would join forces with the Thrades. If that were to happen, all of Ardelym would be at risk, man and enemy alike.


    "Does a dragon have the wherewithal to make an alliance with the Thrades?" Rigel questioned Flenn one night during the ancient seer''s nightly stargaze. "What I mean is can a beast actually reason the way a man can?"


    "Many men cannot reason at all," Flenn replied from behind their spyglass.


    "True, but he can learn. Can a dragon learn?"


    Flenn chuckled said, "Every living creature acts instinctually, a man more than any of them. The fact that he can justify later with his ''reasoning'' is part of his self-delusion."


    "But what about a dragon?" Rigel insisted impatiently.


    Flenn swung the spyglass toward the mother/daughter moons hidden behind a curtain of haze and said, "One never knows what a dragon might do. Best to stay out of its way."


    The following morning, after Flenn had performed the spell which seemed to gain more power with each application, Rigel flew from Raki''s perch with a great flap of purple wings that sent Flenn''s scrolls rolling from the high desk. With a triumphant caw, Rigel circled the tower twice, sailed over the citadel wall, and then swooped down low over the sea to tease the sea lions poking their heads out of the surf to gaze at the great purple bird.


    Catching a warm draft, Rigel flew further out to sea than he ever had. The air turned chilly as he neared the shore of Kadaar. He was just about to navigate Raki to turn back when he spotted a Skaard ship knifing through the rough sea. He swooped down close enough to see the warrior Bonn Skaard standing at the bow of the ship with the princess close beside him, her white hair glimmering in the bright sunlight.


    Starlex is alive! he rejoiced, diving down to meet the ship.


    And she''s coming home!

 The Return

    After informing the king of Starlex''s arrival, Rigel ran to the harbor, jumped on the first skiff he saw and commanded the captain to sail out to meet the Skaards.


    "Heavens, you stink!" he blurted when he clasped Starlex in his arms.


    ¡°Good old Rigel,¡± Starlex said with a laugh.


    As if remembering his status in Oran court, Rigel turned from his cousin to address Bonn Skaard. ¡°Thank you for returning our dear girl home to us. You will be rewarded handsomely, I am sure."


    Bonn nodded brusquely, whistled, and then barked orders to his crew, including Leiffen and three other men, as they steered toward Oran Harbor.


    "Not too friendly is he?" Rigel whispered to Starlex. "There is a certain beastly attractiveness about him. If oily muscles are your thing. Personally, I prefer--"


    "Please, Rigel," Starlex said pressing a finger to her cousin''s lips, "you are talking about my husband."


    The color drained from Rigel''s cheeks for a moment. Gripping the gunwale to collect himself, he was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. The deck creaked beneath their feet and a flock of gulls circled above their heads.


    "You married him?" Rigel asked with a choke.


    "Yes," she said.


    Having recovered his shock, Rigel was about to say something crass, but when he observed the sparkle of happiness in Starlex''s violet eyes, he clasped her once again in his arms.


    Once they disembarked the ship, Starlex and Bonn were whisked away by palace guards to the King''s war chamber. Thinking they might need a liaison, Rigel accompanied them. Bonn initially balked at leaving his crew behind, but Rigel assured him they would be taken to the dining hall where they would be fed and given a chance to rest.


    Starlex clung to her husband as they traversed the winding staircases leading to Scipio''s sanctuary. The palace contours were alien to her.


    The sentry announced them to the king. Starlex bowed before him.


    "Stand," he commanded, opening his arms to her.


    Shyly, she submitted to his embrace while Dolceto Davadas stood by, regarding Bonn Skaard with quiet disdain.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    "You are tired," said the king holding Starlex at arm''s length, "and you need to get out of these ridiculous clothes."


    "They are not ridiculous where the wind is cold and the snow deep." Bonn''s baritone penetrated the stifling atmosphere of the darkened chamber.


    "No," the king met the Skaard''s ice-blue gaze, "but we are not in Kadaar, and she is about to expire in those furs. Rigel,"


    "Your Grace?"


    "Take Starlex to her room. Have the women bathe her, feed her, and put her to bed."


    "Right away."


    "But," Starlex started, addressing the king. "There is something I need to tell you--"


    Before she could continue, Rigel grabbed her arm and pulled her away.


    "Now is not the time. Trust me," Rigel said in a hushed tone.


    Starlex cast an anxious gaze back at her husband as Rigel rushed her from the chamber.


    Bonn''s ice-blue gaze pierced the sanctuary''s gloom with a look of love.


    Rigel led Starles to her old chamber, freshly aired and cleaned, and perfumed with incense. Rigel dismissed the two serving women, informing them he would take care of his cousin.


    The scented bath was already drawn. Rigel theatrically averted his eyes while she peeled off her hides and skins, dropped them into a filthy pile on the marble floor, and then stepped into the bath. The warm water felt heavenly on her skin. Rigel poured two glasses of wine and handed her one.


    "Welcome home, my dearest."


    Starlex smiled and took a sip. Dipping her shoulders beneath the water, she felt herself relax despite her worry.


    "So," Rigel sat on the edge of the tub staring down at her with loving, but inquisitive violet eyes. "Tell me all about your husband."


    ***


    Overjoyed to hear of her return, Flenn Illymium sent the fastest raven to Roselynn Davadas'' home to tell the queen the news she had been waiting for many moons to hear.


    Hyperia received it with a mixture of ecstasy and consternation. Flenn mentioned Bonn Skaard was with her. Hyperia''s thighs trembled when she recalled the ruggedly handsome warrior from Skaard. Compared to most men, he was not easily manipulated. She had seen that during their first meeting.


    And Starlex is such a silly fool; she''d give it away to the first man who said I love you. She may already be carrying his brat!


    She rushed through Roselynn''s home, calling for Yewen Illymimium. She discovered the old counselor weeding his herb garden.


    "I need to return to Oran immediately." Hyperia''s face was flush, her bosom heaving.


    "I will prepare the carriage right away." Yewen groaned as he straightened his back and brushed the dirt from his hands.


    "That will take too long. I will ride to Oran myself."


    "But, milady, do you think it''s wise to ride--in your, eh, condition?"


    "Out of my way, fool!" Hyperia gave Yewen a shove, causing the old man to lose his footing and tumble into a hemlock bush.


    "You stay here!" she barked, crossing the lawn to the stable. "And if Roselynn so much as farts I want to hear about it!"


    Fuming, Hyperia entered the stable. The half-witted boy they had brought with them from Oran was asleep in the straw. She roused him with a sharp kick.


    "Saddle up Blaze," she said, and be quick about it."


    "You mean the yearling? But''s he''s barely broke, Milady."


    "Do what I say or I''ll break you!" She raised a fist.


    The lad jumped to his feet and quickly saddled up the flighty yearling.


    She returned to the house to change into her riding habit and by evening she was flying over the green hills of Terragonian Bluff heading back to Oran, back to Starlex.

 Treason

    Starlex could not enjoy the comfort of her bed without her husband lying beside her. Bonn and Leiffen were housed on the far side of the palace, in the servants'' chambers no less. It made Starlex burn, but she knew her only course toward happiness was to somehow convince the king of the legitimacy of their union, and of the importance of sending troops to Kadaar at once to fight the Thrades.


    She hoped Bonn Skaard''s private conference with the king had yielded some results, but she hadn''t been permitted to speak to him afterward. Rigel had whisked her to the top of Oran tower to see Flenn Illymium. Their meeting was lovely, although she was saddened to see her old friend appear so weak, their violet eyes half-closed and distant as if they were close to entering the next, and final, realm of their existence.


    The positive change in her cousin, Rigel, was a joy to see. Although he had lost Jabe, he had found a new passion.


    Starlex was told that Hyperia and Tylla (now married to Roland Davadas) would be returning to the palace soon to honor her return.


    But what about my marriage? thought Starlex.


    She would give up all the luxuries of Oran just to be with Bonn again. She was hugging herself to assuage the ache inside her when Hyperia came crashing through the door with her riding veil flying about her face.


    "My sister! My darling, baby sister!"


    * * *


    From his small, modest room in the servants'' chamber, Bonn Skaard gazed out the window at the mother and daughter moons, floating high and milky in the hazy night''s sky. He had been provided with a bath and fresh clothes. The meal he and his men had eaten was excellent: crisp, roasted pheasant, root vegetables, bread, and wine, but he was far from satisfied.


    Despite what he had expressed to Scipio Davadas, about the reality of the Thrades'' threat, of the losses Kadaar had already suffered, the king had not been completely moved to join his cause.


    The King had promised, however, to meet with him again the following day to discuss it properly. Still, Bonn worried. The Thrades could be attacking his people at that very moment.


    Knowing he needed rest to keep his wits about him, he lay on the cool linen sheets, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.


    * * *


    "But, I told you," Starlex insisted for the umpteenth time, "Bonn Skaard is my husband."


    Hyperia sat at the foot of her sister''s bed, shaking her head in disbelief. "And I told you, I do not approve, nor will I ever approve of this marriage."Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "It doesn''t matter what you think." Starlex gazed at her sister with a boldness she had never dared express before. He''s my husband and there is nothing you can do about it."


    Hyperia stood, adjusting the pleats of her gown over her padded belly. "Oh, my sister, what a little fool you are."


    Starlex''s voice was calm when she replied, "Please don''t judge something you don''t understand."


    The queen''s glare was as sharp as a stiletto''s blade. "So, you had you a proper roll in the hay by some Skaard bull, and you think that makes it legitimate?" Her laugh was haughty and ugly. "No, that only makes you a slut who''s now ruined herself for a proper Oran union."


    Before Starlex could respond to the insult, Hyperia continued. "We will have to keep it under wraps." She pointed at her sister. "And you will have to keep your silly mouth shut."


    "Are you insane?" Starlex sprang from the bed. "Bonn Skaard is my husband. If you can''t recognize that, I will return to Kadaar at once and never see Oran again."


    Hyperia gripped Starlex''s shoulders, her fingernails sharp. "Do you think your life is your own? If so, you''re more of a fool than I thought." She ran her eyes up and down her sister''s slim frame. "I suppose you think you''re a woman now. How is that Skaard stud in the sack?" She licked her lips lasciviously. "I just might pay him a visit and find out for myself."


    Starlex smacked Hyperia across the face.


    The queen recoiled, holding her cheek. "I could have your head for that."


    Starlex held her sister''s gaze until Hyperia wheeled and left the chamber, the skirts of her riding habit fanning out behind her.


    Starlex waited until she heard the Queen''s footsteps fade, then she threw a light robe over her sleeping gown and fled her chamber. Padding quickly across the main hall, careful not to wake anyone, she found the back staircase and followed it down to the courtyard. She crossed the garden, her pale figure illuminated by moonlight, and practically ran to the guest quarters where the Skaards were being housed.


    She found Bonn''s door and knocked softly. He opened the door and at once his sleepy eyes lit up with love. She threw herself into his arms and they toppled onto the bed.


    For the remainder of the night, they made love, desperately as if it were the last time. Their passion was at last spent, they lay peacefully in each other''s arms. Their idyll was shattered when the palace guards kicked open the door.


    With spears drawn, the guards surrounded the bed. Hyperia entered through the open door and stood over the couple.


    Pointing at the bed, the queen announced, "By order of royal decree I charge you, Bonn Skaard, with treason."


    "Treason?" he asked, half-laughing. "On what grounds, Milady?"


    "On the grounds that you raped my sister, Princess Starlex Illymium. These men are my witnesses."


    "Raped!" Starlex rose from the bed, shielding her nakedness with the linen sheet. "He''s my legal husband."


    "Legal in Kadaar, perhaps, among the barbaric Skaards, but not here."


    His muscles tensing from the insult, Bonn stood next to Starlex.


    "This lady is my wife. If we''re not welcome here we''ll leave for Kadaar immediately." Bonn reached for his sword belt dangling from a hook on the wall.


    Four swords from the guards were thrust toward Bonn''s throat. Starlex screamed and Bonn slowly raised his hands. The sheet fell to the floor, exposing his nude body.


    Hyperia took a deep breath and hungrily ran her violet eyes up and down his chiseled form, lingering for a moment at his prodigious manhood.


    "Sister please, don''t hurt him," Starlex begged.


    Hyperia cocked her head toward the lead guard. "Take him to the dungeon."

 Jailed

    "Will you permit a man to dress first?" Bonn asked calmly, reaching for his linen breeches.


    "Go ahead," sneered Hyperia. "We''ll watch."


    "I''m sure you will," he rejoined.


    Hyperia''s eyebrows arched sharply.


    "Sister!" Starlex cried. "You can''t do this to my husband!"


    "Husband, my ass! This man defiled a member of the royal family, and Oran will have his head for it. To the dungeon with him."


    "No!" shouted Starlex. Holding onto Bonn, she was dragged to the door. A guard landed his boot in her side and she curled into a ball on the floor, weeping and naked, as Bonn was taken away.


    Hyperia looked down at her with contempt. "You shame the Illymiums with your ridiculous hysterics. You could have married any Davadas man in Oran, but you chose this hulking brute."


    "You--you won''t get away with this," Starlex sobbed. "The Skaards will fight for his return."


    Hyperia''s high peal of laughter bounced off the walls and high ceiling. "The Skaards are in no shape to fight Oran. We both know that. I hope the Thrades eat every one of them alive. I hope they grind their bones with their jaws until there is nothing left of those heathens but dust."


    Starlex looked up at Hyperia with violet eyes flashing and said, "Then I will fight you tooth and nail."


    "Your teeth and nails are all you got, and unfortunately for you, that''s not enough." Hyperia whirled the remaining guard and said, "Take the princess to her chamber and lock her up good and tight."


    She glanced back at Starlex with eyes like ice. "I''ll decide what to do with you later."


    * * *


    Starlex lay on her bed in the room she had lived in since she was a girl, surrounded by wealth and luxury, but still trapped like a bird in a golden cage. A palace guard brought her dinner tray then took it away untouched.


    "Please Illym," she prayed, her face pressed into the damp pillowcase. "Please make my sister see reason."


    From outside her balcony, the sound of flapping wings rushed through the humid air. The great purple Lila bird landed on the balcony railing with a resounding squawk.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Raki!" Starlex flew from her bed to the balcony. "What''s wrong, girl?" She stepped back to avoid the violent flapping wings and snapping beak.


    She felt a tremor along the balcony railing. A violent jolt knocked her to the floor, followed by a cloud of purple smoke that made her retreat, coughing, into her chamber. When the air cleared, Rigel was sitting on the marble floor and Raki was flying away, happy to be rid of the mad human who had taken over her body.


    Starlex rushed to her cousin''s side. "Heavens! How did you do that?"


    Rigel groaned and said, "Give me some wine for my head, and I''ll tell you all about it."


    * * *


    Bonn Skaard stood in his dungeon cell, the damp walls dripping with the aroma of human misery.


    As moonlight spilled in through the tiny barred window, he thought alternately about the Skaard people and his princess wife. It kept him from thinking too much about his imminent meeting with the sharp edge of the executioner''s blade.


    It wasn''t the pain he feared. He''d experienced too much of it on the battlefield, had felt sharp blades dig into his flesh, had heard his Skaard brothers'' agonized cries in battle, begging for death''s swift release. But he wasn''t ready to lay down his sword. Not yet.


    For one thing, his people needed him. He should never have returned to Oran. The queen had shown him her true intentions during his brief meeting with her. The truth was there from the start, revealing itself in the she-devil''s flashing violet eyes, the lustful curl of her lips, and the swell of her breasts. His love for her silver-haired sister had blinded him to that grim reality.


    The clank of approaching guard''s footsteps broke his reverie.


    Has the time come to me to meet my doom?


    His thoughts flew back to Kadaar and how his life had changed on that fated day when he returned from battle to Yarhtah. He had ridden into his village in a blinding snowstorm to find his home completely engulfed in flames. He jumped from his mount and rushed into the fire, screaming for his wife and son. It took four Skaard men to drag him outside. Someone had found his wife, Siffa, lying facedown in the snow. Bonn ran to her and turned her over. Her ice-blue eyes were fixed on the sky, and clasped to her breast was Bonn''s three-year-old son, Bolto. Both dead.


    Not caring whether he lived or died, Bonn threw himself into battle with strength fortified by vengeance. Impervious to pain, he fought savagely, and woe to anyone who crossed his path.


    Then he met a silver-haired princess with stars in her eyes and again he was changed. With a deep sigh, he recalled the sweet promise of her embrace.


    Bowing his head in the moon, he prayed not to Illym, but to the land, the wind, and the sky he loved so much, and hoped to return one day, at least in spirit.


    The prison door clanged open with a metallic wail.


    "So be it," he whispered, girding his loins to face his death.


    "Here''s someone to keep you company, Skaard!" the guard called as he slammed Leiffen onto the floor of the cell. "We caught his ass before he could scale the wall."


    "Can''t blame a mate for trying, eh?" Leiffen said, brushing himself off. "Heavens! It stinks in here."


    "You two can keep each other company until it''s your turn on the gallows." The guard made crude kissing sounds as he slammed the door shut and retreated down the hall.


    "I almost made it," Leiffen said to Bonn with a grim look. "I was going to return to Skaard and organize a full-on attack, but now..." he shrugged and looked around.


    Bonn nodded. "Any word about my lady wife?"


    "No, and those guards took my sack away with all my tricks inside. But the fools forgot to check my pockets." With a sly glint in his eye, he reached into his britches and pulled out the last of his shiny silver orbs.

 The Lustful Queen

    "I know there is a way to transform both of us into Raki," Rigel paced the marble floor of Starlex''s bedchamber, trying to recreate the spell Flenn had taught him. "Tell me about Kadaar while it comes to me."


    "But I don''t want to distract you," she said.


    "It keeps my mind off my limitations." He stopped pacing for a moment, looked her squarely in the eye, and said, "Darling, are you really in love?"


    "Yes," Starlex gazed dreamily at the starry sky. "He''s the most wonderful man I''ve ever known. Good and strong and..."


    "Lustful?" Rigel raised one eyebrow naughtily.


    "I was going to say handsome," Starlex countered with a sweet smile. " And Kadaar is a wonderful place, except for the Thrades. They are horrible and vicious. Monsters!"


    "I always suspected the Thrades were real. Once I figure out this damn spell, we''ll fly to the Tower for Flenn''s help. If it''s not too late . . ." Rigel gazed wistfully out to sea where a silver line of moonlight rippled on the surface.


    Starlex joined him at the balcony railing. Gently touching his arm, she asked. "What do you mean '' if it''s not too late''?"


    Rigel looked at her sadly. "Flenn Illyminum is fading."


    Only certain Illymiums were chosen to be Illymatars, one of the twinkling stars of the Or Galaxy. Now Starlex understood, Flenn was training Rigel to take over their role. Still, it saddened her to think her old magician friend was fading into the next realm. She needed to see Flenn right away, to get their good counsel, and also to say goodbye.


    "Any luck remembering the spell?" Starlex blurted.


    "No," he said, biting his lip in frustration. "If only I''d brought that damn book with me."


    "You''ll remember. Keep trying, Rigel," she implored.


    * * *


    "Come to bed," said Scipio Davadas to his wife within the dimly-lit bedchamber.


    Clinging modestly to the shadows, the Queen quickly changed into her sleeping gown.


    "I''m waiting," Scipio rumbled impatiently.


    "Yes, my dearest." She floated to his bedside, pausing to extinguish the burning candle.


    "But I want to see you," he said.


    "It''s more exciting for me this way."


    Deciding he would take it any way he could get it, Scipio drew her to him. "Take this off!" He tugged at her sleeping gown, nearly tearing it.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "You''re in such a hurry," she teased, sliding the top of the gown now to expose her full breasts in the cool violet moonlight spilling in through the sheer silk draperies.


    He groaned his approval and reached out to touch them.


    Hyperia''s head fell back. It had been months since she had felt a man''s touch and now she was on fire. But she knew she must be cautious. She couldn''t risk him knowing her secret, especially when victory was so close, only a month away.


    "Take off the rest of your gown," he said, nuzzling her breasts.


    "I don''t want to risk our child," Hyperia panted.


    The king grumbled. "Well, at least let me look at you."


    "I have a better idea, my precious lord." She eased him flat on his back and ran her lips down his chest to his belly.


    His groans told her he would offer no objection.


    * * *


    Hyperia listened to the sounds of Scipio''s satisfied snores, but her own lust remained unquenched. Suddenly, it occurred to her where she could go to assuage her desire.


    Careful not to disturb the sleeping king, she slipped out of bed. She put a black velvet robe over her gown, stepped into her slippers, and crept quietly from the king''s bedchamber.


    Her feet trod lightly through pools of cool moonlight streaming in from high windows in the wide central hall. She passed through a series of doors and then carefully traversed the suspension bridge. A gust of cold air, blowing across the sea from Kadaar, stimulated her tender skin, readying it for rough caresses she desired. Her lust burgeoning with each step, she picked up a flaming torch at the arched doorway and followed the curved stone staircase into the palace''s lower depths.


    "You there," she called.


    "Yes, my Grace?" A sleepy guard jumped to attention


    "Take me to the Skaards'' cell."


    "Right away," he answered.


    She followed the guard''s tunicked back down a dark, narrow corridor, lined on either side with dank, straw-lined cells. Hyperia removed a perfumed handkerchief from the pocket of her robe and pressed it to her nose to ward off the foulness within.


    When they reached the last cell, the guard unsheathed his sword and ran it along the bars.


    Bonn and Leiffen stirred from within.


    "Take the small one with you," Hyperia ordered the guard as he unlocked the door and swung it open with a loud clang.


    "Don''t rub it in, your Grace," retorted Leiffen, sitting up, and rubbing his head.


    "Put him in the lower cell."


    "Ah, your Grace. Not with all the rats."


    "If you don''t mind your tongue, you''ll be eating those rats."


    "It wouldn''t be the first time," Leiffen mumbled as he pulled himself off the floor, shaking the straw from his hat. He cast anxious eyes back at Bonn Skaard who sat on a straw-covered cot in one corner of the cell.


    When Leiffen hesitated at the door, the guard shoved him ahead.


    "Speak with you later, mate," Leiffen called back to Bonn.


    When the footsteps had faded, Hyperia moved into the cell and placed the flaming torch into a wall holder. The flickering light threw shadows around the grim stone walls, reeking of mold and decay.


    "Now, we are alone," Hyperia said to Bonn Skaard.


    Bonn took a deep breath but said nothing.


    She took a step forward, entering the torchlight. The hood of her robe fell back, releasing her hair which fell to her waist in ebony waves. Slowly, she undid the belt on her robe.


    Bonn''s ice-blue eyes locked onto her gaze, never straying.


    "You may look if you like, Bonn Skaard," she said.


    "I usually prefer a drumbeat," Bonn said, wryly.


    "Stand!" she commanded.


    He did so slowly and grudgingly. With a sarcastic bow, he said, "What is your wish, Milady."


    "My wish is you, Bonn Skaard. Right here. Right now." With panting breaths, her fingers undid the pearl buttons of her gown until her breasts were fully exposed.


    "Isn''t that the King''s job? I wouldn''t want to tread on anyone''s toes."


    "Don''t be a fool. There''s no one here to see."


    Bonn looked down at the pile of dirty straw. "I prefer perfumed sheets myself."


    Moonlight through the tiny cell window bathed the queen, making her pale skin shimmer. Her bare breasts heaved, pointing at Bonn like spears on the battlefield.


    He ran his eyes up and down her body, and she responded with a quick intake of breath. "Whatever the lady wants," he said and moved toward her.

 Destiny

    Her inner thighs moist with desire for the Skaard warrior, Hyperia lifted her skirts. Remembering the padding over her belly, she turned to face the moldering wall. The stench intensified her arousal. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than defilement, to have Bonn Skaard take her from behind like a beast, to have him shove her face further into the surrounding filth her so she could drink it in like intoxicating perfume.


    She hiked up her skirt all the way and tilted her buttocks toward him. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded.


    "Just enjoying the view, Milady." The rough texture of his voice added fuel to the fire raging within her.


    "Well, you''ve enjoyed it enough. Now, get on with it."


    He grunted, straddling her from behind, his hands pressed against the wall beside her head.


    "And what do I get out of this, aside from the pleasure of your company?" he asked.


    "Your freedom. Now, take me, you fool!" She arched her back as far as she could to meet his sex, but he would come no closer.


    "What are you waiting for?" she snapped.


    "My guarantee?"


    "A queen''s word is the only guarantee you need. I command you to take me, Bonn Skaard! Implant me with your seed, and I guarantee your son will sit on the throne."


    She had nothing left to offer. Her sex hung in the air, waiting for his to close the circuit of desire. But still, he didn''t move.


    No one had ever turned her down. A flare of sudden rage kindled the lustful flame.


    "What kind of man are you? Perhaps you prefer your friend Leiffen to a woman?"


    "Actually, I''d prefer my goat to you."


    The queen whirled. Her nails found his cheek and dug in. The Skaard laughed and backed away. Hyperia lunged at him, fists pounding, her bare breasts swinging. His large hands caught her wrists as she railed, spitting and screaming like a feral beast.


    "I''ll have you carved into little pieces and thrown to my hogs, you heathen beast!" she shouted, rage mixing with humiliation. She continued the assault with several swift kicks to his battle-scarred shin.


    "Aw, but we were getting along so well," Bonn replied with a chuckle.


    "Guard!" she shouted, wrenching herself from Bonne''s grip and covering herself with her robe.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The guard ran with clanking steps to the cell door.


    "Did he hurt you, Your Grace?" The guard''s gauntleted hands tightened into fists. He stared darkly through the bars while Bonn sank back into the shadows.


    "No," she said. "Just get me away from this stinking animal."


    The key clanged in the lock and the door swung open with a groaning complaint. Hyperia ran to the hall, clutching her robe around her.


    A second guard jogged toward them. He stopped when he reached her, bowed his head, and handed her a scroll. "This just came for you, Your Grace," he announced with panting breath.


    "Give it here." Hyperia ripped the scroll from the guard''s hand.


    She ran her fingers, still stinging from her assault on Bonn, along the Illymium seal--a letter from Yewen. Tearing through the wax seal, she opened the scroll and read:


    Your sister-in-law''s time has come. Return at once.


    Hyperia dropped the letter into a flame pot and watched it burn. She turned to one of the guards and said, "Tell the stable master to saddle the fastest horse and have it ready for me at the back gate."


    "Yes, Your Grace." The guard hurried off with his sword clanging.


    "Going for a midnight ride?" Bonn Skaard smile glowed in the violet moonlight streaming through the cell''s small window.


    Her composure restored, Hyperia pressed the tops of her breasts against the bars and said, "I will have to forgo the pleasure of seeing you beheaded until I return."


    "What a shame."


    Her eyes flashed. "It will give me time to concoct a more appropriate execution method."


    "I''m intrigued."


    "Back in old Mynimium, we had a way of dealing with traitors." Her voice was calm, but her violet eyes shimmered like beams of cold light through the bars. "They were hung up in the square, then each limb would be slowly hacked away with a blunt ax. As the blood poured out of them, their bellies would then be sliced open, and their entrails pulled out and used as a noose to hang them."


    "Inventive."


    Her lips curled into a smile. "For the truly vile criminals, their cocks would be chopped off and shoved down their throats first."


    "Why not keep mine as a souvenir? I''m sure you''ll enjoy it in your free time."


    "Your horse is ready, Your Grace," informed the out-of-breath guard as he approached.


    Hyperia cocked her head toward Bonn''s cell and said to the guard, "Chain this prisoner to the wall and give him nothing but water. I want him alive when I return."


    "Yes, Your Grace."


    She turned and retreated down the dungeon hallway.


    "Enjoy your ride," Bonn Skaard called after her.


    No smart comeback sprang to her lips, but it didn''t matter. She had more important things to deal with. Roselynn''s baby was coming, a full month early it looked like.


    She ascended the tightly spiraled stone staircase, popped out into the fresh air of the garden, and dropped the torch into a clay pot. Tightening the cloak around her, she made her way to the stables where she had stored a riding habit there along with some provisions in case of such emergencies.


    * * *


    The Mother and Daughter moons were high and bright, lighting her path as she rode into the night through the Pale Forest and along the high Terrogonian Bluff. The salt-filled sea air blew back the hood of her cloak, and her hair streamed out behind her like a black flag.


    She firmly gripped her mount¡ªa tall stallion with a blond mane--between her thighs, pretending it was Bonn Skaard. Her lust flamed as she galloped the horse hard, each thrust of the saddle''s pommel bringing her closer to her pleasure''s peak. Her heels dug into the horse''s ribs; her nails penetrated its flank, drawing hot blood. The horse whinnied in pain, galloping harder along the moonlit bluff.


    Hyperia rocked in the saddle as a thing possessed, and when at least she reached her climax, she screamed into the night. The stars of Or spun around her and she knew Illym was with her.


    Tonight I will fulfill the prophecy. Tonight my son arrives.

 Heir to the Throne

    Hearing the news of Starlex''s return and subsequent imprisonment, Tylla rode Sola, the frisky white mare, to Oran Palace accompanied by Davar, her groom.


    While serving women bowed before her, Tylla strode into the palace with the riding crop dangling from her wrist, ran up the palace stairs two at a time, and crashed open the doors to the king''s war chamber.


    "Tylla," said Scipio Davadas, standing up from behind the oval table where he and his henchmen were conferring. "What are you doing here? Can''t you see I am busy?"


    "I don''t care, father," Tylla said. "I demand you free Starlex immediately along with the Skaard men who saved her."


    Dolceto Davadas gave his daughter-in-law a stern look and said, "This behavior is outrageous!"


    Tylla pointed at the large round table spread with maps and goblets of wine. "I''m outrageous? What about you? While you fools are in here smoking your pipes and talking of war, my mother is waging a war against her own sister!¡±


    "That''s enough!" shouted Scipio Davadas.


    The harshness of her father''s tone silenced her.


    "I apologize for my daughter''s intrusion, gentlemen." Scipio''s dark eyes scanned his men''s disapproving faces. "New brides are nervous, especially when their husbands are at war and not at home to keep them company. Come, daughter."


    As Scipio grabbed Tylla by the arm and marched her to the door, Dolceto muttered, "A man who can"t control his own family has no business running..."


    "You little fool," hissed Scipio as he roughly pulled Tylla into the hall. Tightening his grip on her arm until it burned, he said, "I should throw you in the dungeon along with Bonn Skaard for such disobedience.¡±


    Tylla dropped her head. She could never hold her own in the face of her father''s anger. "I''m sorry," she whined, "But what''s happening to Starlex and Bonn Skaard is not fair."


    "What''s happening to my men in Crytombe Crags is not fair! We''ve been fighting the Nazeers for months and still cannot drive them back. Our enemy is determined to take Mynimium. And yet, you don''t inquire about your husband fighting on the front lines. You don''t even ask if he''s alive or dead. Do you even care?"Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Tylla raised her dark eyes to meet his. "No. I don''t care."


    Scipio''s upper lip curled in disgust. "You shame me, daughter."


    He reentered the war chamber, leaving Tylla alone and fuming in the marble hallway.


    Gam Nazeer came running toward Tylla with her apron flying, her face red and damp.


    "I must see the king at once," Gam said, her breath a whistle through her toothless gums. In her hand, she held a scroll sealed with the Illyminum crest.


    "What is it?" Tylla demanded.


    "A messenger just rode in from the country to announce the Queen has had a son! Let the bells ring out in all of Oran!" Gam battered her fists against the war chamber door. "Your Grace! Your Grace!"


    The door shot open and Scipio''s angry face appeared in the crack. "What is it now?"


    Gam fell to the floor before him. "A son, your Grace! A son!"


    Wordlessly, Tylla picked up the scroll old Gam had dropped in her excitement and handed it to her father. Scipio Davadas ripped through the seal. The expression on his face shifted from anger to pure joy.


    He turned to Tylla. "Ride out at once to Roselynn''s house and stay with your mother. Bring a nurse with you." When Tylla hesitated, he shouted, "Go! Make yourself useful for once."


    To old Gam, still lying prostrate at his feet, he said, "Go to Oran tower and inform Flenn Illyminum of the news."


    Scipio''s grin widened as he opened the door to the war chamber, calling to his henchmen, "Let all of Ardelym know that today Illym''s prophecy is fulfilled. The next great Davadas King was born today!"


    * * *


    Tylla rode out on Sola to the sound of bells ringing from the tower and the citizens of Oran rushing to hear the news. When she reached the bluff beyond the Pale Forest, she brought Sola to a halt and looked back at her city, now alive with celebration. She reflected sadly how she was no longer the esteemed daughter of the King. She had been replaced.


    And after making a spectacle out of myself today, I will never be in my father''s favor again.


    She took her pain out on Sola, digging her heels into the horse''s ribs. The white mare reared and shot forward along the high bluff, leaving Davar and the nurse riding behind her in the dust.


    * * *


    Tylla arrived at her aunt''s country home before nightfall, and found her mother in bed, gazing down at her newborn brother. When Tylla inquired about her aunt''s whereabouts, Hyperia rolled her eyes to the Heavens and informed her that Roselynn had run off with her Illymium lover. They were living somewhere on Terragonian Bluff.


    Yewen Illyminum washalf a league away in Alcora Forest, shoveling the last heap of dirt into the grave he had spent all day digging. In it, lay the body of Roselynn Davadas.


    Yewen had seen bodies bleeding in the streets and fires burning in the ivory towers during the siege of Mynimium, but he¡¯d never seen anything as horrific as the fire in the Queen''s eyes when she, growing impatient with the slow progress of the birth, had straddled the screaming Roselynn in her bed, and used her sharpened stiletto to cut the baby from his mother''s womb.

 Flenns Finale

    Scipio Davadas knew his wife was in good hands at his sister''s house with Tylla and Yewen looking after her.


    In his letter to the queen, he expressed his joy at the news and requested the child be named Corellas after the first Davadas king. As a post-script, he expressed his distress at Roselynn''s departure and hoped she would come to her senses and return home soon. His sister, he mused, was always a silly creature, but this was unusual behavior, even for her.


    Scipio sent the letter by messenger, and while the citizens of Oran celebrated the new royal birth, he met with his henchmen about a letter he had received from Roland Davadas requesting reinforcements against the Nazeers¡¯ stronghold at Crytombe Crags.


    Frustrated by the news, the King dismissed his henchmen and called for a private meeting with Rigel Illymium.


    "What is your will, your Grace?" Rigel inquired with a deep bow.


    "Use your magic to fly to Crymtombe Crags and report back immediately what the situation is there. And if possible, roll some rocks down on the Nazeers. Anything to stop them from advancing."


    Rigel balked.


    "Something wrong?"


    "I''ve never flown that far as the Lila bird, your Grace."


    "How hard can it be?"


    "You''d be surprised."


    "Well, hasn''t Flenn Illymium taught you how to do it?"


    "Yes, but Flenn is very ill."


    "More reason to move quickly. This is your chance to serve Oran, now off with you."


    Rigel hesitated. "I will your Grace and gladly, but..."


    "Yes?" Scipio asked with an impatient sigh.


    "How long do you intend to keep Starlex prisoner in her own room?''


    The king shrugged. "That''s the queen''s business. She will deal with it when she and my son return."


    "And Bonn Skaard and his friend?"


    "What about them?"


    "The Queen will have them executed when she returns."


    Scipio shrugged. "What of it?"


    "Bonn Skaard is Starlex''s husband."


    Scipio huffed. "Husband, eh? Despite your training, you are still a na?ve boy. Starlex was weak-willed and played the harlot to those heathens. She is useless now, an outcast among her people. You are not to consort with her."


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Rigel gasped. "But why, your Grace?"


    "Any interference with royal business is considered treason." He waved a dark finger at Rigel. "Do not use your magic to interfere. You serve the royal Davadas household only. Do you understand?"


    "Yes, your Grace."


    "If you return from the Crags with good news, I may go easy on Starlex and her Skaard friends. Now, be off with you." He made an impatient gesture toward the door.


    Rigel had no choice but to bow and quickly retreat. Strolling down the wide marble corridor toward the pulley car, Rigel worried less about his ability to fly all the way to Crytombe Crags and more about leaving Starlex alone.


    In Oran Tower, he found Flenn in an unresponsive state, lying in bed with eyes open as if they were focusing on something far beyond the realm of Ardelym.


    "I will make Flenn''s special, rare tea," Rigel said, as he headed for Flenn¡¯s small pantry. "If that won''t wake them, nothing will."


    * * *


    It was past midnight, and Starlex was standing on her balcony gazing at the moonlight''s reflection off the Crimson Sea when Raki swooped down in a flash of purple feathers and perched on the railing.


    "Rigel? Is it you?"


    The bird''s head bounced up and down. She approached the bird and stroked its purple feathers. "Have you seen Bonn Skaard? Oh, tell me if he is well."


    The long beak opened and cawed loudly.


    Starlex laughed. "You will have to transform back to Rigel if you expect me to understand what you''re saying."


    The head of the great bird shook, its beak bouncing up and down.


    From the dark sky above their heads, a shimmering column of light dropped to the balcony floor. Within a spinning helix shot through with prisms of colored light, appeared the translucent figure of Flenn Illyminum, wearing a silver robe, their white hair and beard trailing to their feet.


    "My daughter," Flenn said in a faraway voice. "I come to you before I transcend onto the next world to issue you a dire warning."


    Her hand went to the lump forming in her throat. "Yes, my dearest friend."


    "The Queen has deceived us all," Flenn continued, "and when she returns to Oran, she will have you slain."


    But I''m her sister, she thought, not wanting to believe.


    "How do you know this?" replied the princess breathlessly.


    "Illym has shown me things beyond my former comprehension," Flenn''s voice said. "Trust me when I tell you, you must leave Oran immediately. Fly with Rigel to Mynimium and stay there."


    "But I can''t leave without my husband. I won''t!"


    Flenn raised a gentle hand. "I will do what I can to free Bonn Skaard and his friend, but you must leave now."


    From outside the thick wooden door, the tramp of the palace guards sounded in the hallway.


    "They''ve learned of Rigel''s deception. They¡¯re coming now to take you to the dungeon," Flenn said with alarm.


    Raki squawked. The purple wings flapped impatiently. Starlex hesitated.


    "You will help your husband more outside the prison than within," Flenn continued in a faint voice. "But it must be your choice. I cannot force you."


    She bit her lip, considering the possibility that she would never see Bonn Skaard again.


    But how will I free him if she too were chained within the lower depths?


    The key turned in the lock.


    "Yes," she said. "I''ll go with Rigel."


    Flenn raised their hand and a beam of cool light swirled around Starlex.


    The guards rushed through the chamber. The King stood behind them, his jaw trembling with rage.


    "Treason!" he shouted. "Seize the girl and the bird!"


    The guards charged at them with raised swords.


    Flenn pulled a fireball from the air and hurled it at the approaching guards. The guards lifted their shields against the flames.


    "They''re getting away, you fools!" shouted the king. He pulled a sword from one of the guard''s hands and jumped through the wall of fire.


    Starlex felt her feet lift from the floor. She willed herself to let go and suddenly she was flying over Oran, swooping low to escape a hail of arrows from the guard towers, then climbing nearly vertically to scale the city wall.


    Beneath the glaze of moonlight, she flew westwardly along the jagged coast, then with a wide expanse of Raki¡¯s wings, made a swooping turn and began heading south toward Crytombe Crags. Her heart beat in time with Rigel''s and the great Lila bird.

 Crytombe Pass

    Bonn Skaard awoke with his mouth as dry as the Akri desert sands. For a moment, he thought he was in his village, but the dank, putrid air of his prison cell told him otherwise. So did the iron manacles clamped to his wrists. Near his feet was a small cup of dirty water, but to stretch himself that far would open the sores on his back from the whipping he received the previous day. When he imagined making a meal of the guard who beat him so savagely, a madman''s laugh escaped from his parched lips.


    A silver light pierced the high window of his cell. He thought it was nothing more than the Mother and Daughter moons casting a cold light on his suffering.


    Starved and weakened, he thought he was hallucinating as he''d seen men do after being injured in battle. Their skin would turn to fire and their eyes would open wide as they screamed at unseen monsters.


    But then the light flooded the cell, and a distant voice called to him, "Bonn Skaard, by Illym''s edict you are free from your chains."


    "Now I know I¡¯ve gone mad," he mumbled through parched lips.


    The iron manacles clanked to the stone floor and the door of the cell flew open with a bang. With the aid of the wall, Bonn rose stiffly to his feet, wincing at the fire in his joints.


    "What are you waiting for?" the voice said.


    "My friend, Leiffen?¡°


    "He''s waiting outside with two fresh mounts. Hurry, while the guards are distracted."


    Bonn willed his weakened limbs to move. The light within the cell compressed into a ball and flew before him, lighting his way through the dank prison corridor. He followed it, moving in tight spirals up stony stairways until he was vomited out into a moonlit garden.


    "Bout time, mate." Leiffen sat smiling upon a chestnut mare.


    Bonn noted his ax, long blade, shield, and trusty stiletto hanging from the saddle of a tall, white stallion. He grabbed hold of the pommel and mounted the horse.


    The light pulsed above their heads and Flenn''s voice whispered, "Head to Crymtombe Pass. You will find Starlex and Rigel there. Take them to Mynimium if the Nazeers don''t seize it first. Hurry."


    Refreshed by a deep breath of freedom, Bonn heeled his mount, and the horses thundered through Oran''s streets. Reveling citizens, still celebrating the birth of Scipio''s heir, jumped out of the way of the galloping horses. The bell on Oran tower rang out, alerting the guards to the prisoners'' escape.


    "Hang back, mate," Leiffen shouted at Bonn as they rode toward Oran''s main gate.


    Bonn reined in his horse. Leiffen passed him by two lengths, and then jumped into a low crouch on top of the saddle. He stood slowly as the horse galloped forward, and balancing like a pageant jester, Leiffen produced the last silver globe from his pocket.


    He hurled it over his head and threw it at the gate. The globe exploded, scattering the phalanx of guards who stood before it with raised pikes.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The Skaards thundered their mounts through the jagged remains of Oran''s gate. When they reached Pendulum Road, the column of light stretching to the Heavens slowly faded and was replaced by a new star. The future books of Ardelymian lore would record this star as Flennillym, the brightest light in the Northern sky.


    * * *


    The new star lingered like a glittering diamond in the morning sky.Scipio Davadas, his battle armor clanking,strode with wide, impatient steps into the stable. "Bring me the white stallion," he barked at the stable boy.


    The boy sputtered, "The Skaard rode off with him."


    Scipio growled and shoved the boy into a pile of manure. "Then bring me the next best horse and be quick about it."


    "Off to battle?" said a deep voice.


    Scipio turned to see Dolceto Davadas regarding him coldly from the stable door.


    "What does it look like?" Scipio asked through gritted teeth. He adjusted the polished bronze gauntlets at his wrists.


    "It looks like the king is desperate."


    "What do you suggest I do? Allow this Skaard to run free after he raped my sister-in-law? Let Nargos Nazeer take Mynimium?"


    Dolceto stepped forward, the hem of his long robe picking up pieces of straw. "You must think about the future. Your son, and our children''s children."


    "That''s all I think about."


    The trembling stable boy led a fully-tacked black warhorse into the stable.


    Scipio mounted the horse and adjusted his weapons and shield. "I''m taking the best palace guards with me. You, Dolceto Davadas, will be in charge of Oran in my stead. Guard her well."


    "I will, your Grace," Dolceto uttered with a deep bow and steely eyes.


    With a sharp cry, Scipio heeled his horse and flew out of the stable. His guards joined him at the shattered gate, riding in a line behind with the king leading the charge.


    * * *


    The sun was shining like a bright disc in a clear lapis sky as Raki flew high over Crytombe Pass. She circled twice over the tallest rock mountain making up the Crags and landed on a jagged plateau below the peak.


    Rigel used his magic to separate his and Starlex''s bodies from the purple-feathered cage. When they were finished with the transformation, they both lay panting and exhausted in the shade of a large boulder.


    Raki shook her tail feathers, happy to be free of the human burden, and soared high above their heads.


    After taking a moment to catch their breaths, Rigel and Starlex crawled to the edge of the plateau and looked down upon the battle that had been raging for months.


    Dozens of men from each side lay dead on the pink sands. A battalion of Oran soldiers lifted their shields against Nazeers arrows raining down on them from hidden positions in the rock cliffs above.


    This was the last holdout before the Crags opened up into the wide fields of the Arki desert. The winning side would have a straight shot through the desert to Mynimium.


    "After we''ve rested, we''ll transform to Raki again and fly to our old home."


    "But where is Raki?" Starlex lifted a hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the blinding sun as she scanned the sky.


    "She''ll be back," Rigel said with a laugh.


    "She looked like she saw something that scared her."


    "Yes. Us." Rigel laughed again. "If I''ve learned anything from becoming an animal is that they''re much smarter than us."


    Suddenly, a dark shadow passed over them. At first, Starlex thought it was a black cloud pregnant with rain. She hoped it would pour buckets, as she was thirstier than she had ever been. But one look at Rigel''s blanched face told her this was no cloud.


    Trembling, she turned to gaze over her shoulder and gasped.


    Perched on the tallest rock peak was Quetzex gazing down at the battlefield with mild curiosity.


    "Heavens!" cried Rigel. "I''m going to try something."


    He scurried up the rock face, loosening pebbles as he climbed.


    "Are you mad?" hissed Starlex after him.


    "Maybe," Rigel said, still climbing. "But Flenn told me that once I mastered Raki I could transform to any beast, even a dragon. Now, here''s my chance to save Oran and Mynimium. Old Flenn is telling me to do it. I can feel it!"


    "Rigel, you can''t!"


    "Watch me!"

 Death in the Sands

    There was a great thunder as if the very rock beneath her was about to shatter. Starlex ducked her head to brace for whatever agonizing fate awaited her. Then the ground settled as pebbles from the crag''s peak showered down on her.


    Quetzex took off with an enormous flap of wings, whipping up gusts of stinging sand.


    The dragon''s shadow passed over her, shading her for a moment from the sun''s beating rays.


    "Rigel?" she shouted and waved her hands.


    Quetzex made a tight circle over her in answer.


    Heavens! He''s become the dragon!


    She crawled to the edge of the rock plateau to watch as Quetzex swooped down into the rocky hollow where the Nazeers and Oran soldiers battled.


    From a cloud of pink dust, Nargos Nazeer appeared, leading a fresh charge with the sun blazing off his armor, his Gladius drawn. Behind him, a battalion of five men came to a sudden halt.


    Nargos turned with a growl and shouted at them, "Get in there and fight, you bastards! Fight or I''ll cut the balls right off ya!" The terrified men scattered, running for cover, some dropping their weapons in the panic.


    Nargos looked up, squinting at the flying beast now silhouetted against the raging sun.


    The dragon flew low. Then, hovering over the niches where the Nazeer soldiers took cover, Quetzez spewed out of a stream of fire. The men screamed as they burst into flames. Their bodies, like burning torches, rained down on the army below.


    Panicked, the men scattered like rats. Nargos vaulted over a soldier on fire who was screaming in agony and hid behind a large boulder.


    Quetzex followed the retreating men, burning one then another, zigzagging through the crags until what soldiers remained among the Nazeers'' battalion were running back to their city, terrified, never to venture past its walls again.


    Shouts of triumph rose from the Oran troops as they ran through the smoke to take Crytombe pass. Roland Davadas led the charge, thrashing his sword through black clouds of dragon''s breath.


    The great dragon flew into the sky over Stalex''s head, opened its jaws, and released a shrill victory cry that caused the princess to shudder. There was a violent beating of wings, followed by a white puff of smoke, and then Rigel came sliding down the rock wall, landing at Starlex''s feet in a cloud of sand and pebbles.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He rolled across the ground with a groan.


    "Rigel," she whispered. "Are up all right?"


    Freed of its human burden, Quetzex flew high over the crags, heading north.


    Starlex followed the dragon''s flight until it was only a black spot in the lapis sky.


    Rigel sighed. "My leg''s broken. Give me a Lila bird any day over over a damn dragon. Argh."


    She ran her cool fingers below his knee, stopping when she reached a red lump along the shinbone. It was swelling rapidly.


    "Rest now," she said, stroking her cousin''s damp forehead. "The Nazeers are gone. You''ve won the battle for Oran."


    "Some thanks I get," he groaned and closed his eyes. "What''s happening now?


    Starlex crept to the edge of the plateau and peeked over the cliff.


    The sound of clanging swords pierced the black cloud of dragon''s breath still hovering over the men. In the dissipating smoke, Roland Davadas and Nargos Nazeer were facing off in hand-to-hand combat.


    Wincing in pain, Rigel crawled on his belly to join her.


    "Rigel, what are you doing? You''ll make your leg worse."


    "I have to see how it ends, damn it!"


    The Oran troops made a circle around the two opponents, but none intervened as Roland and Nargos fought: Nargos with his Gladius and ax, Roland with his long sword and dagger.


    "Why won''t the Oran soldiers kill Nargos?" Starlex gazed contemptuously down at the man who had almost become her father-in-law.


    Rigel rested his chin on her arm. "It''s an old Ardelymian law. The last man standing on the losing side gets to fight with the victor''s captain in a final battle. If Nargos defeats Roland, he walks free.


    "You should have killed Nargos when you had the chance," Starlex said.


    Rigel winced in pain. "I would have if that damn beast hadn''t farted me out like that."


    Roland, taller than his opponent by two and a half heads, raised his long sword and charged the Nazeer duke. But Nargos made a quick, squirrelly move beneath it, and jammed his ax into the armor joint on the back of Roland''s knee.


    "Cowardly move," hissed Rigel.


    Roland went down on one knee, the color draining from his young face. The Oran troops clutched their weapons, bound by tradition not to fight. The blood ran bright red through Roland''s fingers netting over the wound.


    As Nargos approached, Roland raised his sword feebly from the ground. Nargos kicked it away and ran his Gladius across Roland Davadas'' throat. The young warrior''s blood made a dark spray in the arid air as his body crumpled.


    With a sharp cry, Starlex turned and hid her face in Rigel''s shoulder.


    Rigel whispered, "And now our Tylla is a widow before she even had a chance to be a bride."


    As Roland Davadas lie bleeding in the pink sands of Crytombe pass, the line of Oran soldiers parted like a gate to let Nargos Nazeer through. Honoring Ardelymian law, the men held their weapons and even their tongues as the old Nazeer stumbled back toward his home city deep within the Crags. Then, silently and somberly, the remaining Oran troops loaded Roland''s body onto a litter and began their slow victory march toward Mynimium.


    * * *


    Several leagues away on Pendulm Road, Bonn, and Leiffen slowed their mounts to a trot. Above their heads, a great purple bird circled.


    "That''s the Lila bird from Oran," said Leiffen, pointing the sky. "Look! She''s trying to warn us."


    "No," said Bonn, a smiling alighting his face. "She''s trying to lead us--to Starlex."

 Reunion

    Starlex held Rigel''s head in her lap and glanced anxiously at the bright blue sky. The shaded section of the rocky plateau provided little relief against the pounding sun scorching her fair Illymium skin. Rigel''s broken leg was swelling. His eyes were shut tight, his breathing shallow. Starlex knew he was in great pain. Her throat was so dry she could barely swallow. They both needed water.


    "I''m going to climb to the peak to see if I can locate Raki. Maybe she can fly back and rescue us somehow. I''m sure the dragon scared her away."


    "Good idea," Rigel mumbled through tight, dry lips.


    Starlex set Rigel''s head down gently and moved toward the rock tower looming over them. She clambered slowly up the pitted rock face, pausing every few feet to catch her breath. She didn''t dare look down. Her flesh burned, but she would survive a sunburn. They wouldn''t survive another day trapped on a mountain without water.


    When she reached the dizzying top of the crag, anchoring her feet securely, she gripped her sweaty hand around one boulder and used the other hand to shield her eyes against the blazing sun. She turned slowly in all directions, searching for the dark silhouette of Raki''s great wingspan. Her heart swelled at the sight of the Oran battalion, now only a speck on the distant desert sands as they made their slow victory march toward Mynimium. Below her, the puddle of Roland Davadas'' spilled blood had turned the pink sand a deep red.


    She shuddered and swept her gaze further east. Her heart filled with sudden joy when she spotted two riders on Pendulum Road. Raki flew before them, leading the way.


    Bonn and Leiffen!


    "My husband!" she cried, refraining her impulse to leap into the air lest she plunge headfirst from the crag.


    Starlex carefully descended the rock face. The sun had, at last, begun its descent; long shadows streaked the surface of the plateau. Once her sandals touched solid ground she ran to Rigel, her heart pounding with joy and relief.


    "Bonn and Leiffen are coming! They''ve escaped! They''re entering the Crags now. I''m going to climb down to them, and then we''ll bring you down. All right?"


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Rigel nodded weakly. Starlex stroked his dirty cheek and pressed her warm lips to his forehead.


    "Be careful," he muttered.


    Bonn Skaard and Leiffen rode through the winding trails of Crytombe Crags. When they paused to rest the horses, Raki''s caws alerted them to a squat figure, bleeding and sweating in his bronze armor, dragging his sword in the sand.


    Nargos Nazeer stopped in his tracks and looked up at the blond warrior on the tall white stallion. "So, we meet again Bonn Skaard," Nargos hissed.


    Bonn gazed down at Nargos and laughed. "And so we do."


    "I vowed vengeance on you the day you murdered my son, but as you can see, I am in no condition to fight you. I ask that you either kill me quickly or give me the road.¡±


    Bonn shot a glance at Leiffen and rubbed his beard. His mount clomped its front hooves, whipping up a cloud of sand. He read in Leiffen¡¯s eyes the Kadaarian law: that no enemy be killed on the open road if he humbly asks passage. Nargos was far from humble, and it would certainly be easy to kill him, but was that the legacy he wanted to leave for his future children? To be an outlaw in a strange land? Or would he remain a Skaard and keep the traditions of his people, no matter where he traveled?


    "That''s quite a proposition," Bonn said. "And if I let you pass, will you forget this vendetta?"


    Nargos nodded. "I will forgive, Bonn Skaard, but never forget."


    "Fair enough." Bonn gestured for him to continue on his way. "Return to your homeland, Nargos Nazeer. But only if you vow to never again attempt to claim Mynimium for yourself. That city belongs to my wife''s people."


    "Your wife?" Nargos spat out the question.


    "Yes," Bonn''s blue eyes flamed. "Starlex Illymium is my lady wife."


    Nargos'' snarl became a laugh. "So, you''ve claimed Oran''s prophecy with your own seed."


    Confused, Bonn Skaard blinked down at Nargos. "I hear the lady queen has fulfilled Oran''s prophecy with her new sire."


    Nargos laughed again, uglier this time. "I suppose we all play our part in Illym''s plan, whether we are aware or not. I suppose it behooves me to make a friend of you then." He looked up, squinting into the setting sun."I would shake your hand if I could reach you."


    "A handshake won''t be necessary," Bonn replied."I hope a man''s word still counts for something in Ardelym."


    Nargos nodded and said with a chuckle, "You have my word, Bonn Skaard. Now let me pass and return to my home. What children I have left are waiting for me there."


    Bonn and Leiffen reined their mounts to the side of the road to allow Nargos to pass.


    They continued on their way along the tight, twisting paths When the path opened into Crytombe Pass, Raki flew ahead cawing loudly. Bonn saw a slim, shadowed figured in the center of the road, arms waving overhead.


    "Starlex!" Bonn shouted and dug his heels in his mount¡¯s sides.

 Desert Dawn

    Bonn leaped from his horse and Starlex was in his strong arms again. She could have lingered in his embrace forever, and she would have if Leiffen hadn''t begun whistling an old Mynimium tune to break the spell of love.


    And then suddenly she remembered Rigel baking on top of the crag with a broken leg.


    Within moments, Bonn and Leiffen were climbing up the rock face to rescue Rigel. Starlex stayed below. She sat in the sand, exhausted, in the cool shadows of the tall crags and drank from the waterskin, being sure to leave plenty for Rigel. She dozed off to the soft rattle of the horses'' reins and woke to pebbles showering down the rock face as Bonn carried Rigel over his shoulder with Leiffen supporting his broken leg.


    Starlex stood quickly and brought water to Rigel as the men set him down in the soft sand. Rigel drank deeply from the waterskin and then lay his head back down. His cheeks red and moist, he tried to smile, but only groaned.


    "How bad is his leg?" Starlex asked Bonn.


    "I''ve seen worse," Bonn said, tearing the hem of his homespun tunic with his teeth. He cast his light blue eyes to Leiffen and said, "I think this calls for the strong stuff."


    "Got it, mate." Leiffen walked up to his horse and pulled a small vial from his saddlebag. "Your friend, Flenn, gave this to me."


    "What is it?" she asked, gazing at the amber glass vial.


    "Something that comes in handy on the battlefield. Poppy extract to kill the pain."


    Rigel popped his head up. "Let me have some of that."


    "Easy, mate." Leiffen handed the vial to Starlex. "Give him three drops to start."


    When Rigel''s breathing indicated deep sleep, Leiffen gave Bonn the signal. The Skaard warrior gripped Rigel''s leg and yanked the broken bone apart, snapping it back into place. A scream exploded from Rigel''s mouth.


    "He''s awake now," Leiffen said with a chuckle.


    "Heavens!" cried Rigel.


    Starlex ran her hand across his forehead. "It will be better now, my dearest."


    "Give me more of that stuff," Rigel insisted.


    Starlex glanced at Leiffen. He nodded and she poured a few more drops between her cousin''s parched lips as Bonn wrapped his leg tightly.


    "The bone should fuse together now," Bonn said. He sat with his back against the rock and motioned for Starlex to come to him. She did so eagerly, sliding comfortably into the crook of his arm.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Bonn closed his eyes, breathing in his wife''s sweet smell. "We''ll spend the night here and set out in the morning for Kadaar, if that is all right with my lady wife."


    "It is." Starlex gazed up at him with a sweet smile. "And Rigel can either go with us or return to Oran. Raki will get him home safe and sound."


    "Then it''s a plan," Leiffen said with a prolonged yawn. "I long to return to the land of ice after his blasted desert." He picked up a handful of pink sand and let it fall through his fingers.


    "We''ll think better in the morning after we''ve all had a good rest," Bonn said, softly closing his eyes.


    "My dearest husband," she whispered, "I long to speak with you about..."


    She stopped when she realized he was sleeping and snuggled closer to him. Her breath matching the timing of her husband''s, she fell into a peaceful sleep.


    * * *


    They woke at dawn to Raki''s caw and the violent flapping of wings.


    A warning!


    Bonn bounded to his feet to see Scipio Davadas and his battalion of four men galloping toward them.


    Bonn reached his mount stallion and pulled his long blade and ax from the saddle. Scipio''s guards rode two strides ahead of the king, thundering toward Leiffen.


    Leiffen leap-frogged on the back of his chestnut mare, pulled his sword over his head, and circled the battalion in a cloud of sand. Corralling them against the rock face, Leiffen tossed his silver orb. It exploded in their faces, tossing them from their mounts against the rock. Two horses fell with them; two others broke and galloped with reins dragging back into the crags. Then men lay motionless in the bloody sand.


    Scipio rode hard toward Leiffen, twirling his blade above his head, a war cry exploding from his mouth. Leiffen slid to the side of the saddle to avoid the death blow, but the razor-sharp blade found his shoulder and sliced deep. Leiffen toppled from his horse and rolled onto the sand by Starlex''s feet. She and Rigel, partially hidden behind a boulder, could only watch desperately.


    Now the king turned his full attention on Bonn who stood on the ground in a warrior''s pose, ax and shield firmly gripped in his hands.


    Scipio''s horse pawed the sand as the king looked down at the Skaard warrior and said, "I charge you, Bonn Skaard, with treason and rape of an Oran princess. For those crimes, I condemn you to death."


    "No!" shouted Starlex, emerging from behind the boulder. "I am his wife! And...and I am carrying his child!"


    Bonn''s head swiveled toward Starlex. Pure joy melted the ice in his cold blue eyes and a smile appeared within his bushy beard. Starlex nodded, gripping her belly as the tears ran down her cheeks.


    "More reason to kill you then!" shouted Scipio as he dug his heels into his mount and charged at the Skaard warrior.


    Bonn ducked as Scipio''s blade bore down on him. Crossing behind the King''s horse, Bonn grabbed Scipio''s leg and twisted it, forcing the king from his mount. He landed in the soft sand and bounded to his feet with his weapons drawn.


    The men circled each other. Leiffen tried to stand, but the loss of blood proved too much and he fell back to the sand with a groan.


    Raki cawed loudly as she circled above the fighting men.


    Starlex ran to Rigel''s side and shouted, "Do something, Rigel! Use your magic."


    Rigel groaned in pain and sleepiness from the tincture. He propped himself on his elbows and closed his eyes tightly. Raki violently flapped her wings.


    Rigel fell back down. "I can''t! I''m too weak!"


    Scipio Davadas raised his blade and pivoted in the sand. Bonn rolled beneath it and plunged his ax into the king''s side, penetrating his armor. Scipio groaned and spun in the sand, and then dropped to one knee.


    Starlex screamed. Although he tried to kill her husband, the sight of the great king falling was like a knife driven into her own side.


    Bonn stepped back while the great Scipio Davadas bled into the sand, mouthing his final prayers to Illym.

 The Black Mountain

    Tylla gazed across the closed carriage thinking how she couldn''t stand to be near mother one more moment. Hyperia, still clad in her black robes, had fooled the people of Oran into believing her widow act, but not Tylla.


    Next to the queen on the carriage''s velvet seat sat Dolceto Davadas, Tylla''s former father-in-law. Always politically ambitious, Dolceto had seized the power left by the King''s absence. Tylla had no doubt he now shared her mother''s bed.


    At Hyperia''s slippered feet, baby Corellas lay neglected in his cradle. In the six moons since the baby''s birth, Hyperia had shown the child no love except when she played the doting mother in public. The only reason Tylla agreed to stay at Oran after her father''s death was to look after Corellas. Having never given a thought to motherhood before, Tylla was surprised at how she bonded with the baby who looked just like her father, but nothing like the queen.


    The carriage lurched suddenly, and Corellas began to cry. Tylla lifted the baby from the cradle and rocked him.


    "Be careful he doesn''t vomit on you, Tylla," Hyperia remarked with annoyance. "We won''t have time to change our clothes before the ceremony."


    "Yes. We got too late a start." Dolceto Davadas shot Tylla a look as if she were the cause of their tardiness. He opened the window flap and gray light spilled into the carriage. "Dreadful, depressing place," he droned.


    They were now deep into the Weir en route to the God Gate where they would witness the Blue Planet''s crossing.


    During the last Zar, Corellas Davadas traveled through the God Gate, forced by his captors. Within a year, he had become king of all Ardelym and established Davadas'' long rule. Only Illym knew what now lay in store for them now.


    Tylla gazed out the carriage window at the Weir Wasteland. It was early morning and already the Wols were hard at work in the fields, harvesting food in the poisonous earth for their meager sustenance. She watched them in the distance as they raised and lowered their hoes, their shaved heads covered by their gray cowls. Miserably, she thought of Carmelle.


    Corellas gurgled, and she shifted her eyes back to the baby. He smiled at her with loving eyes as she traced the dark whorls of hair on his head. She thought of her father with a dull pain in her heart.


    The queen giggled softly. Tylla looked up and saw Dolceto slip his hand through a gap in Hyperia¡¯s bodice.


    A picture of a grieving widow, Tylla thought, gazing back at the gurgling baby. When this charade is over, I''m returning to my home in the country and starting a new life. If only I could bring little Corellas with me.


    * * *


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    They reached the citadel by noon. The Lex Azarax, black armored guards with faces obscured by iron visors, gazed down ominously as the carriage passed through the gate.


    "Quite the welcoming committee," quipped Hyperia. "I suppose they''ll have food for us."


    Dolceto stroked the queen''s cheek. "It''s just a tiresome formality we must endure every nine-hundred Blue Planet years."


    Hyperia laughed girlishly at her lover''s wit.


    Tylla bit down on her tongue till she tasted blood.


    * * *


    Each rotation of the carriage wheels led them farther into the Weir wasteland. As they approached the sacred Black Mountain housing the God Gate, Tylla scanned the Wols'' faces for Carmelle, wondering if she would even recognize her former lover.


    The new leader, Genya Wol, stepped out from a group of Wols and lowered her cowl,exposing her shaved head.


    "You''re late arrival means you won''t have time to rest. The Blue Planet will be crossing shortly." Her gray eyes looked up at the dark clouds rumbling with lightning.


    "We must hurry," Genya said, replacing her cowl over her head and leading them to an entrance inside the mountain marked by two towering columns carved from the rock face.


    "Hand me the child," Hyperia hissed to Tylla.


    Tylla reluctantly handed Corellas to the queen, muttering, "Nothing to interfere with your perfect image. I wonder if Illym is fooled."


    Hyperia shot her a cold look as she clutched a whimpering Corellas to her breast and followed Genya Wol into the cavern.


    Tylla hesitated as the darkness of the mountain swallowed the queen and her lover. A sharp wind picked up the hem of her cloak. She pressed her face into the teeth of the wind and looked about her. The Wol women were slowly surrounding her, their eyes shining from beneath their cowls like curious rodents.


    Frightened suddenly, Tylla turned and entered the mountain behind the others. The rock floor trembled beneath her feet as she scurried to catch up with Genya¡¯s flickering torch.


    They traversed a small bridge over a crystal canyon where ropes were attacked to the wall to aid in their crossing.


    "Dolceto, I''m frightened.¡° Hyperia¡¯s quivering voice made an echo.


    Her advisor and lover gripped her arm and guided her forward.


    "Come, my Grace," said Genya Wol, excitedly. "We''re almost there."


    The Queen, clutching the crying child to her bosom, obliged wearily. She couldn''t wait for this spectacle to end so she could once again enjoy the comforts of her palace.


    Everything had worked out better than she could have planned it. Even the death of the king had come as a relief. The traumatized citizens had looked to her for guidance in their grief, and she had played the widow role to the hilt. Now that she had Oran¡¯s loyalty, she could use her power however she saw fit. And baby Corellas, the future great king prophesied by Illym, would keep her safe from harm''s way. Dolceto Davadas was an excellent administrator. He would run the kingdom efficiently and with an iron fist. And if she enjoyed him in her bed, what of it?


    All of her secrets about the Roselynn Davadas affair were buried six feet beneath the ground along with the body of Yemen Illymium. She had her guards quietly execute her old Mynimium friend shortly after Corellas¡¯ birth, then, after the dreadful deed was done, she poisoned both guards herself¡ªall traces of her evil deeds erased with a drop of poison in a cup.


    And what of Starlex?


    When the palace guards went to Crytombe Pass to retrieve Scipio''s body, there was no sign of Starlex nor the Skaards. Even Rigel seemed to have been absorbed bythe pink desert sands.


    A smile tickled Hyperia¡¯s lips.


    There is no one left to disturb my peace.


    The rock floor moved beneath her feet, shaking her confidence like the suddenly shifting cavern walls.


    Her heart fluttered with fear. No one except Illym.

 The God Gate

    They reached the center of the mountain, an altar set upon a flat rock floor from which three obsidian walls rose. Each wall depicted ancient carvings depicting the history of Ardelym, from Illym''s first beastly creations, to the first opening of the God Gate and the men and beasts who passed through it. Each Zar marked a jump in Ardelym''s history and technological achievements. The former Zar brought the great warrior Corellas, along with books and medicines, all items used to advance Ardelyms civilization.And now the God Gate would open once again, bringing fresh gifts from the Blue Planet.


    What these were, only Illym knew.


    Again, the mountain shook, raining down pebbles from the cavern¡¯s walls and ceiling.


    "What''s happening?" the Queen asked. Trembling, she handed off little Corellas to Tylla.


    Genya Wol''s gray eyes sparkled. "The God Gate is opening!" She pointed a slim, white finger toward the center wall, demarcated with two polished gold columns, carved with ancient Illymium symbols. The space between the columns, black as ebony, began to subtly shift until a white ball of light appeared and began to spiral.


    The sphere opened from the center, starting with a small aperture and then growing until the sphere exposed a world like Ardelym, but richer, with emerald green grass and cool blue pools with cascading waterfalls surrounded by acres of flowers and tall trees.


    The royal family stood dumbstruck as a white horse jumped from the sphere into the cave. It whinnied, hoofs beating the rock ground in a panic. Another white horse followed, harnessed to a gold, driverless chariot with reins dragging. Two more beasts entered: an ox and a sheep.


    Hyperia stood staring at the gaping hole that opened to a fresh new world.


    "Is that it?" She turned to Genya Wol with a contemptuous laugh. "A few animals. Where are the great men and women? Where are the gods?"


    I am here. The only God.


    A voice resounded through the cave with bass notes so low, the very mountain shook.


    "Illym," Hyperia whispered.


    Yes. It is I who alone know of your deception, Hyperia Davadas.


    "What deception?" Dolceto Davadas demanded.


    Silence, fool! came Illym''s strong retort.


    Dolceto backed away from the altar, partially disappearing into the shadows. His eyes darted about the cave in search of an escape route.


    Suddenly what appeared to be a great bat flew through the cave. With purple wings flapping, it circled above the group.


    "It''s Raki!" Tylla shouted.


    There was a bright light, a puff of lavender smoke, and suddenly Starlex, Bonn, and Rigel appeared, standing side by side in torn, desert-bleach rags.


    "Behold the fulfillment of my prophecy," Illym''s voice thundered. "Starlex Illymium, carrying the Skaard Warrior''s child. It is their child that will rule Ardelym to a great future."


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "No!" Hyperia screamed. "It is my child, Corellas!" The queen ran to Tylla to wrench the baby from her arms.


    Tylla pulled away. "No, mother! You won''t hurt me with your lies anymore, nor this child!"


    Tylla turned and bolted from the altar space, clutching Corellas.


    "Dolceto!¡± Hyperia screeched. ¡°Kill that little fool and bring me back my son!"


    Dolceto lumbered after Tylla, his large hand combing through her streaming hair as she fled up the stone stairs. He pursued her, panting.


    When he reached the top step, he slipped and fell backward. With a rasping cry, he tumbled down the slippery steps. His head struck a rock and cracked open. Blood spilled onto the cold stones.


    Hyperia walked over to where Dolceto Davadas'' body lay, hoping he would come back to life to fight her battle for her. When she realized he was indeed dead, she whipped back her slippered foot and kicked him on the side of his bashed-in skull.


    "All men are useless fools!"


    She shifted her violet gaze, hard as cut glass, to Starlex. "You think you''ve won? I''m still the queen! I will have your head, and yours too, Rigel. You''ve deceived me, but you won''t get away with it."


    As Hyperia spat and cursed at Starlex and Rigel, slowly the God Gate aperture began to close behind her.


    "I defy all of you!" Hyperia screamed. "I am an Illymium princess, chosen by Illym himself to rule this world and beyond.¡± She tilted her head upward. "I am a new god! Better than god, I''m--"


    Raging, unhinged by madness, Hyperia lurched forward and grabbed Starlex by the shoulders. Before anyone had time to react, she hurled her sister toward the God Gate.


    "Here!" Hyperia shouted into the hole opening to the other world. "Behold my sacrifice!"


    "No!" Bonn shouted. He leaped forward to catch his wife as she slipped through the crack between the worlds. His arms disappeared into the vortex as he reached desperately for his love. Grunting, straining against the force that was greater than his body and will, he could not let her go. Never. His arms reached further into the cool void.


    "Mate, don''t!" Leiffen shouted, but it was too late. Bonn and Starlex disappeared into the portal depths.The gate closed with a hiss, and the cave reverberated with a silent vacuum.


    "So be it," Genya Wol said and bowed her head.


    * * *


    Tylla ran from the Black Mountain into the storm. Securing Corellas under one arm, she quickly mounted one of the horses in the caravan and dug in her heels. The Lex Ararax stood at attention as she flew through the citadel gate, but none made a move to stop her. With the baby in her lap, she clutched at the reins with her free hand. She was soon galloping across the swampland.


    "Carmelle!" she screamed at the bent figures in the field.


    One pale face popped up among the dour sisters.


    "Tylla!"


    Carmelle threw down her hoe and ran toward the galloping horse. Tylla pulled up sharply on the reins. The horse reared and came to a sudden halt. Carmelle jumped on the horse''s back, clutched Tylla tightly around the waist, and together they rode out of the Weir with the storm at their backs.


    * * *


    The queen pulled her stiletto from the belt of her gown and used it to cut Genya Wol''s throat. As the woman lay dying at her feet, she looked around for the last two witnesses to the truth. But Leiffen and Rigel had already retreated from the Black Mountain. Riding together on the white warhorse, they fled the Weir, dodging the arrows raining down from the citadel wall, and headed south for Mynimium. There they would meet up with Tylla and Carmelle, where the four of them would form an alliance against the queen.


    Hyperia returned to Oran alone. She called her henchmen to what was now her War Chamber and made an official declaration of war against Mynimium. In a surprising move, she sent a message by raven to Nargos Nazeer, requesting his immediate counsel.


    Together we will fight for my home city, she wrote, and when we are the victor, I will give your half of its environs and our city-states will join as one powerful entity against tyranny.


    Nargos Nazeer happily agreed, and set out at once for Oran.


    * * *


    The God Gate would not open for another Zar and not even Flenn, whose essence now lit up the night''s sky as an Illymatar, knew the fate of the lovers Bonn and Starlex after they disappeared into another world. But Flennillym trusted in Illym''s prophecy, knowing that eventually, it would be fulfilled.


    THE END OF BOOK ONE