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Clapping, cheering, coin and petal throwing and arrow releasing as more and more Firenz raced to line the road winding through the Fire City to watch the King and Queen of Mar-el ride through.
“They’re celebrating us,” my husband said, sounding even more surprised than I was at our reception.
“Yes,” I breathed, smiling down at a small girl child who’d thrown a paltry amount of petals which was all she could hold in her little hand.
They barely lifted inches in front of her before they flew back in her face.
But she caught my smile, her face froze in wonder, then she whirled and shouted, “Mama! Lei mi ha sorriso! La Grande Bellaza mi ha sorriso!”
“She smiled at me,” Aramus told me. “The Greatest Beauty smiled at me.”
“I don’t think we need my magic anymore,” I muttered.
And then I heard what I had heard often during our voyage, but when I’d heard it, it was not something I had earned.
My husband’s deep, silken chuckling.
I had liked it when it was unearned by me.
I liked it so much more when it was mine.
Oh, but I’d made a blunder.
I released my magic and we rode through Fire City, a phalanx that was testimony to the strength of our nation, and we did it on a path glinting with gold, silver and pewter, through air drifting profusely with crimson petals, to Catrame Palace.
I saw the palace was situated on a rise that was not far from the base of a high mountain that started dusty and beige, grew to lush and green, and spiked into the sky black with rivers cut through it of snow white.
As we approached it, riding through lush foliage to do so, I caught my breath.
It was fronted with wild vegetation all around, wide squat plants with large flat leaves turned face up to the sun, spiked greenery, gentle, swaying limbs that drooped at their ends with delicate crimson flowers. Large decorative urns set here and there. Big pots filled with thin, tall bamboo or bursting with ruby-red cyclamen. Crescent and star-shaped pools lined with dazzling designs of bright mosaic tile. And small streams of water flowing everywhere.
And in the center of the curved drive, abutted by a wide pentagram of artistically-laid tile, was a pool shaped of curves and points, inlaid with mosaics, with an imposing three-tiered fountain at the center.
It was exquisite, an oasis, and the palace that sprang from it seemed but a grand accompaniment to the garden’s beauty.
The palace was not tall, only three stories.
But it was long.
The windows on the first floor were rectangular, and it would seem they all carried exquisite, scrolled screens.
On the second story, all the windows were of traditional Firenz. An unusual, but lovely, arch that had a steep point at the top, bulging out to a trimmed orb, the sides falling straight from that.
And on the third, the same but smaller.
It was built from burnished red stone that gleamed like a ruby muted by midnight.
And standing on its high steps was a warrior who was taller than my husband, muscular, but not bulkier. He was Firenz, fierce, but right then smiling broad and welcoming.
There was another warrior standing with him, wearing, oddly in that clime, thick black leathers—shirt, trousers, boots. He could be Firenz, but although he was as tall and broad as the other, his skin was olive, not brown. And his hair was black, but clipped short to his skull, not long.
And he had ink.
Not piercings.
Mars of the Firenz, the first.
Cassius of the Airenzian, the second.
We stopped, Aramus alighted and then put his hands to my waist to pull me down.
We barely turned before the King of Firenze was at the bottom step, but feet from us.
“My brother, my brother,” he said, both of his big hands out, the smile still fixed on his face.
And it appeared genuine.
He took one of my husband’s hands and clasped it, lifting the other to clap Aramus stoutly on the shoulder.
“I have desired long to meet you and to know you. Welcome to my lands. Welcome to my city. Welcome to my home. Many welcomes to you,” his black gaze came to me, “and your beautiful queen.”
Another clap on the shoulder before he released Aramus’s hand, then to my shock, bowed at the waist, perhaps not low, but it was respectful.
He did this to Aramus.
And to me.
“Aramus,” I heard a low voice murmur and the Firenz king moved aside as Prince Cassius took his place, and I was again shocked when they embraced, both clapping each other solidly on the back. They broke apart and Cassius stated, “Too long, my friend.”
“Indeed,” Aramus replied and turned to me. “Cass, Mars, my wife, Queen Ha-Lah.”
Cassius also did a slight bow.
Having already bowed, King Mars smiled at me.
Then Mars clapped loudly. “Wine!” he shouted. Food!” He started walking up the steps to the palace, but did it twisted at the waist toward us. “For you and your bride. Do not worry. We’re prepared for your arrival. Your men will be settled and seen to.” He smiled again. “Let the games begin.”
Cassius fell back, and I heard him greeting Aramus’s lieutenants.
Aramus took my hand in his and led us behind Mars.
“Aramus,” I whispered.
“I must reflect,” he whispered back on a squeeze of my hand.
He knew what I was saying.
Petals.
Coins.
Flaming arrows.
Hails to the King and Queen of Mar-el.
We were not curiosities.
We were luminaries.
So I had made a blunder in how I communicated with my husband.
And I knew right then he was reflecting on the fact that he might have made a blunder in not listening to his wife.
We arrived at the top of the steps, moved into a cool vestibule, and a variety of introductions were made to a variety of people that Mars clearly had very little interest in and even less respect for.
Save two.
Prince True, of Wodell.
And a strange exchange that seemed somewhat telling as he curtly introduced us to a petite beauty bizarrely named Silence.
His betrothed.
It was Silence I studied, doing this so intently, my head was turned to her even as my husband led us away, following Mars.
And I did this with the deepest shock I’d experienced that day.
Because she was Dellish.
And she was mermaid.
12
The Camp
Princess Elena
An Oasis, Dune Desert, Outside Fire City
FIRENZE
“Bid them to enter,” my mother called.
“Yes, my honored sister,” Lucinda answered and turned back to the coral silk of the tent flaps.
At who I knew was about to enter, my gaze went to Melisse who was sitting opposite me on the coral, purple, gold and silver pillows set on the rugs that covered the stone and sand of Firenze, and I gave her a disgusted look.
She shook her head at me.
My mother turned to Julia, another of her lieutenants, handing her some papers.
“When we return to The Enchantments, this must be discussed,” she murmured. “We take in so many Airenzian, it’s becoming difficult. Shelter. Food. Training in the craft. Finding ways for them to be of service to the Sisterhood. I’ll want you all together in order that we can decide how to carry on.”
“Melisse, as you know, has elected to be with Elena after Firenze,” Julia reminded my mother.
“I’ll speak with her before we take our leave,” Mother replied. “This way, we will know her thoughts.”
The flaps opened, and Julia drifted away as all eyes went there.
G’Seph of the Go’Doan came through followed by a slight man with straw blond hair, also wearing the pristine white of the Go’Doan robes. The second man had a gold filigree belt that said he wa
s a Go’Ar, one of their learned priests who did missionary work, unlike Seph, who was a Go’En, a high priest.
“Seph,” my mother greeted, pushing up from the pillows to take her feet.
I felt my mouth get tight and my gaze again went to Melisse.
She repeated the shaking of her head.
I understood her wisdom. I’d grown up with it. And she’d taught me much, including the fact that we had two eyes, two ears and only one mouth for a reason.
Watch.
Listen.
And then make your decisions or carry forth your acts.
But even though I’d spent a year in Go’Doan, learning Triton history and advanced ways of healing, and there were a number of the Go’Doan I liked, I still did not trust some of them.
Specifically, Seph.
I could not explain exactly why.
It wasn’t that I was not fond his people felt it imperative to their religion to send missionaries wide in an attempt to convert others to their ways, and I did not understand the import of this.
Believe what you believed, and discourse and even debate of it was often enjoyable, and was apt to sometimes create converts, but the practice of diligently attempting to recruit others to believe your beliefs I found a mystery.
But it was their way and they believed in it, so it was not for me to say anything about it. Simply show them the respect of understanding their ideals but stay true to my own beliefs and leave them to who they worshipped and what they did.
It was also not the fact that in their temples across the various realms, they required weekly tithes, many of which were not kept in the local places but sent to the city-state, which was rather magnificent with its gold domes and tidy streets. Though, it was true that was this not only due to the duties they received from its worshippers, but also the cost of the education they offered to students.
This was again not my business. If their followers wished to do this, it was their coin. And the truth was, Go’Doan learning and healing was the best in all the lands (though the Dellish would argue that in regards to education), and their talents with diplomacy could not be questioned. They did provide many services.
And every being had to eat.
It wasn’t even the fact that their gods seemed critical, often disapproving, and of what they disapproved, malevolent. If a follower did not toe the line, their punishments were severe.
They had three: Go’Bedi, the god of obedience, Go’Vicee, the god of service and Go’Chas, the god of faithfulness.
Though it seemed to me, Go’Bedi got the most attention.
But again, if that was what spoke to them, the path they wished to journey in their lives, it was not for me to say.
Importantly, outside of their arts of healing, their skill with diplomacy, their scholarly ways they shared well beyond the gold domes of Go’Doan, they were known to provide safe harbor in their temples, and if needed, arrange safe passage to those who required it.
And a goodly number of those were Airenzian women.
Mostly, I didn’t trust some of them because their priests were oftentimes unnerving.
And my mother was a queen. The queen of a great nation. She was also ill, even if her stubbornness would not allow her to speak of it and she tried to hide it.
But we’d just been riding over desert dune and plain now for some weeks, and I knew she was weary, even if she tried not to show it.
Therefore, she should not rise for anyone, especially not a Go’Doan, and especially not in her state.
But she did.
And because she did, Melisse and I did as well.
One thing was good about this. Serena was not there. She was in her tent some ways away enjoying the Firenz servants that had been sent to attend our camp and she had far less patience for all Go’Doan (and, well, anybody).
“Ah, it is a miracle, the beauty and strength of the Nadirii Sisterhood just an hour outside the burning wall of the Fire City,” Seph remarked, coming forward and taking both my mother’s hands in his in a way I found too familiar. “Whoever would have thought this would come to pass?”
“Much is changing in our lands, Seph,” Mother replied. She let him go and looked to me. “You remember Princess Elena?”
He turned my way and reached out both hands.
I hid my aversion and took his, wishing it was G’Jell who’d come to call. I very much liked Jell. He was genuine and kind and quick to find humor in a situation.
Mother had also shared that he was there, in Firenze, for the events and ceremonies.
However, he was probably doing what most Go’Doan priests should be doing at this time of night. Being at his prayers or being with his brethren or being asleep.
Not traveling an hour outside Fire City to disturb my mother for a good natter for no purpose at all when he’d see her tomorrow eve.
“Yes, of course,” he said to me. “Your beauty continues to be unsurpassed.”
As if I cared aught about that.
“Thank you, Seph,” I replied. “And it’s very good to see you again.”
His words did not reach his eyes. “I’m honored you think so, Your Grace.”
“And, of course, you remember Melisse,” I noted.
He let me go and whirled to Melisse.
“The kind and wise lieutenant of a great queen. I knew not the fullness of privilege I’d have, walking through some silk flaps,” Seph declared.
I took the opportunity of his obsequiousness to look to the man with him.
He was taking everything in with keen eyes and no expression, though I got the sense from him that he wished he was somewhere else.
Studying him, though, I felt a chill hit the back of my neck, and that, too, had no reason.
“Allow me to introduce my new G’Ar. This is G’Drey, very recently to this land and this is very lucky for he is here to witness these historical events,” Seph announced.
G’Drey came forward and was appropriate during introductions, as the Go’Doan always were, with everything.
Outside of impromptu evening visits to a camp in the desert the night prior to the inhabitants of said camp performing in a massive parade and just hours after they’d made that camp after a very long journey.
Mother offered them pillows and called a trainee to bring wine, bread and cheese.
“The Fire City is abuzz, my queen,” Seph launched in. “And has been for weeks. They are most excited about all who arrive here, those from these lands and ones far away. Much coin is being spent. Much revelry is in the air. And adding to this, the King and Queen of Mar-el arrived just today with great fanfare. He is fearsome, she is even more of a beauty than the stories foretell. The Firenz people rained petals on them, threw coins at their feet and shot flaming arrows in the air as they and their men rode through the streets.”
I would have liked to see that.
I’d never met the King of Mar-el. He didn’t often come to the mainland and the Mar-el people as a whole mostly kept to themselves on their vast island. But I heard he was just as imposing as he was easy to look at.
Indeed, because of their isolation, the whole of the Mar-el people were mostly a mystery. Simply their royals’ appearance at these ceremonies was a strong shift in the way things had been for centuries in Triton.
I hadn’t heard much about his wife, but I was curious about her.
“Of course, King Gallienus and Prince Cassius have been here for over a week,” Seph carried on. “No fanfare with that, like brothers welcomed home, Cassius and his men instantly went off with some of Mars’s lieutenants to hunt or fish in Fire Lake or,” he flipped out a hand, “whatever men of that sort do.”
“Indeed,” my mother replied, caring not what men of that sort did.
G’Seph slid a glance my way before his attention went back to my mother and he carried on.
“And King Wilmer arrived just days ago with Prince True and Wilmer’s little niece. So petite. I must say, Mars has displayed many qualities of h
is father. He’s most patient and accepting, for a Firenz.” This last was said with just a hint of abhorrence that I reckoned he thought he hid, but he did not. “But I cannot imagine he’s best pleased with that waif. I’ve seen her wandering about the city with a guard of Mars’s warriors as well as Dellish soldiers and there’s barely anything to her.”
Again, I looked to Melisse.
She was plucking at her casings like she’d lost track of the conversation when I knew she had not.
I drew in breath and with it, patience.
“I know Silence personally, and if Mars has persistence, he will find his match is most assuredly pleasing,” my mother said.
“Yes, of course, as any sister would be,” Seph murmured.
“And would it not be worth some thought that perhaps Mars would need to best please his mate?” Mother asked.
“It goes without saying, my queen,” Seph replied.
I decided to turn my thoughts to just how long I had to sit there before it would not be rude for me to take my leave.
“Are you and yours quite ready to take the arena tomorrow night?” Seph asked.
“Yes, we are,” Mother answered.
My sisters were.
Not only had they prepared before we left, we had stopped often on our journey to practice the drills we would be doing, becoming accustomed to the feel of the air, which was much different, and the heat, as well as allowing our horses to do the same.
Yes, my sisters were ready.
I wasn’t so sure about me.
“Why don’t we let you two friends speak,” Melisse cut in, rising to her feet. “Tomorrow will be full so I’ll walk my princess to her tent before finding my own.”
By the goddess, I adored Melisse.
“My queen,” she nodded to my mother. “Seph, as ever, lovely to see you.”
“And you as well, faithful lieutenant,” Seph replied.
I rose and said my farewells, giving more attention to Drey than Seph.
I did this wondering why he was in that tent. Assigned to Fire City, he should be involved in some healing effort, or at his prayers, not visiting queens.
I thought no more of it when Melisse took my elbow and led me to the flaps.
We hit the cool night air and cloudless starry sky of the Firenz desert and Melisse did not speak until we were well out of earshot of Mother’s tent.