part0004

“I’m not asking for you to accept my dream as truth. You asked what came to me as I slept, and now I’ve told you. Knowing the future doesn’t make you wise, Hacom. It only gives you a glimpse of what might come to pass. What you do with that knowledge is what reveals the worth of a man.”

Brahanu awoke disoriented on the freezing ground. Her hands trembled, reaching out into the darkness that surrounded her. Her vision was as obfuscated as her mind, the dizzying dots causing her to nearly sway back to the ground. Pelting rain stung her face as she clenched her eyes shut, crying out in the darkness.

Brahanu had traveled far beyond the borders of Cazaal in an effort to replenish the diminishing supplies. Now, she wished that she hadn’t. Her father didn’t want her to leave the safety of their village, but she’d convinced him otherwise. She assisted the lakaar , and persuaded her father to allow her leave. But she wasn’t supposed to travel this far, or be gone this long.

Brahanu nursed her side, attempting to push up to her feet. The piercing pain that followed caused her to cry out again, staggering back a few steps. Gods, help me , she thought, trying to gain control over her mounting fear, and force the pain from her mind.

“Where—where am I?” she asked, wiping the wetness from her eyes. Her surroundings were still a blur as she desperately tried to see through the murky haze encompassing her.

“Ared?” When the horse didn’t return, she called for him again. “Ared?” Brahanu repeated louder. “Please. Ared!”

“Gods be good, please help me,” she said, limping forward. Brahanu searched the darkness for any indication of where Ared had taken her. She couldn’t remember anything past the storm…past him charging through the wood. Then, there was nothing. Never had Ared behaved so, and she feared as much for him as she did for herself. She didn’t know how long she’d lain in the gelid pool, but she had to find Ared, and her way back home. Her motion slowed at the thought, and she paused, noticing the familiar scent wafting through the air. Ignoring the pain, she inhaled deeper.

“Smoke! That smells like smoke. I must be near the village.” Brahanu wondered aloud, ignoring the voice of reason calling out to her. The voice that would send her far from the scent of hope in the air. Instead, she convinced herself that she was home, back in Cazaal, safe and near her family and her promised. If she could only reach the burning fires that led the way.

Wincing, Brahanu reached down for a branch to steady her stance. With each step, the pain stabbed at her, and the increasing downpour made it nearly impossible to see. She continued to pray, moving forward slowly at first, but when the scent became stronger, she hastened.

“I can see the fires now. Thank the gods! I can make it,” she said, still denying the obvious truth. When the fitful light came into view in the dark distance, Brahanu slowed again, still struggling to see through the intensifying downpour. She shielded her eyes, squinting.

“Wait, there’s more than one light. There’re three, no, four fires. This isn’t Cazaal. Where am I?” she asked. “Is this the Neema Outpost? Surely, this couldn’t be.” Her fear escalated, but her desperation kept her moving.

As she emerged from the haze of the storm, a guard took notice. A shadow , he thought, examining the form emerging from the darkness. No, not a shadow. An enemy . Raising his arbalest, he readied the bolt, not taking his eyes from the figure.

Brahanu continued toward the flames, seeing the man’s obscure outline in the darkness. The gods are good. I’ve made it!

The dancing flares whipped through the air, casting a luminescence over Brahanu as she approached. The guard’s mouth gaped, and he staggered back a step, concealing himself within the shadows of the stone brazier. Drenching rains saturated Brahanu’s raven hair, making a perfect frame for her face. He could see wounds on her forehead and cheek, but her beauty is what drew him. With each step, her features became more visible. He licked the sudden dryness from his lips, admiring the fullness of hers. Brahanu’s eyes were as dark as the night sky, yet a thousand times more beautiful. Her smooth mahogany skin glistened in the firelight, with the trickling rain making it appear even more so. Never had he seen a woman so beautiful. An ethereal beauty. “By the gods,” he whispered, trying to regain himself. When she was nearly upon him, he secured his cowl, concealing his features.

“Sir? Sir, please can you help me?”

“Sir? Can you help me? My horse was frightened by the storm and I’ve lost my way. I—I followed the light of your torches. I thought that I was heading in the direction of my village, of Cazaal. My father is the Caretaker and would know your commander. Can you help me?”

He tried to speak, but no words came forth. He continued to stare for a few moments more, ensuring that she wasn’t an illusion manifested from his deepest desire.

“I—I—beg pardon, my lady, I didn’t intend to be discourteous. It’s—may I ask your name?”

“Brahanu,” he whispered. “What a beautiful name. The sound is almost as lovely as the one who owns it.”

“Thank you,” she said, flattered, yet bemused. “And your name, Sir?”

“My name is Pentanimir Benoist, son of Manifir. What are—”

When the guards atop the ramparts called out, he gripped Brahanu’s arm, pulling her toward a copse of trees.

“Sir, sir you’re hurting me,” she protested. “Please, let go of my arm. Gods! My leg, please, stop.”

“You must quiet yourself, Brahanu, for both our sakes,” he warned, checking their surroundings before lowering her to a stump. “May I?” he asked, gesturing at her leg. Brahanu grimaced, slightly raising her long skirts.

His hands trembled as he knelt in front of her, inspecting the wound. “Brahanu, it isn’t safe for you here. Your leg is bruised and cut; it’s not broken. I can tend to your wounds and provide provisions, but you mustn’t remain.”

“What? I’m no stranger to the wood. If not for the storm and my horse being frightened, I wouldn’t be lost. I’m tired and need to rest,” she said, pulling back her cloak and revealing the dagger tucked in her belt. “I can defend myself when the times require it. My father has trained many men stationed here, and me as well.” As she stood, a feeling of lightheadedness caused her to stumble. Pentanimir steadied her stance, lowering her gently back to the stump.

“Your bravery isn’t in question, Brahanu, but you aren’t well, and indeed need rest and care. I’ll see to these things if you allow. However, the wood isn’t what you should fear. There are far worse dangers closer than you realize.”

“I don’t understand. If you’re attempting to scare me with tales of creatures unknown, it’s not necessary. I only need a place to rest until the storm passes. If I can’t find that here, I’ll leave.”

“No,” he said. “My intention isn’t to frighten or drive you away. I’m offering you my help, and trying to protect…” He sighed wistfully, knowing he’d have to reveal himself. Without speaking another word, he rose, sliding the cowl from his head. His pale, ice-blue eyes studied her face, fearing her reaction.

Brahanu gasped, realizing what he was…where she was. Pentanimir’s long, silvery-white hair blew in the chilling breeze as he met her eyes. Her voice caught in her throat as if something tangible was lodged there. She shook her head, with terrifying screams echoing in her mind. When he reached out to her, she swung wildly, falling back onto the ground. Brahanu kicked, pushing away from him, feeling the ictus of her heart thumping in her chest. Staggering to her feet, she continued to fight. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t stand, and soon, darkness crept in from the corners of her eyes.

Pentanimir caught her as she swooned, cradling her in his arms. “Brahanu,” he whispered. When she didn’t respond, he stroked her cheek. You’re so beautiful. The gods have brought you to me. Only the gods could create such beauty.

Brahanu blinked her eyes open, awakening in the darkness. Her surroundings were distorted, and she clenched her eyes, attempting to clear the fog from her mind. Was I dreaming? she thought, sitting up and inspecting the tree-lined area. Gradually, her vision and remembrances came into focus. She noticed the cloak covering her, and another one spread beneath her on the ground. “It wasn’t a dream,” Brahanu said aloud before realizing it. She pushed to her feet, and then paused. Wait, the pain...the pain is gone , she noticed, gazing down at the fresh bandages on her hands.

Her heartbeat quickened, hearing the light footfalls, and snapping branches beneath them. She gripped the handle on her dagger, listening closely. As she began to rise, someone grabbed her wrist, wrenching the dagger from her hand. Brahanu whirled around, punching with her left while struggling to reclaim her dagger. She cried out, landing a hard kick, followed by a back-fist as she twisted away. Before she could move to run, he clutched her arms, pulling her back in toward him.

“Why should I trust you? I’ve done nothing wrong. Please. My father is the Caretaker of Cazaal. We can pay whatever ransom that you’d demand, just please don’t take me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross your borders, I just needed help. I promise never to return, just please let me leave safely. Let me go,” she pleaded, unable to suppress her tears.

“I—I didn’t mean to.” She repeated, praying to all of the gods to free her. The stories her father had told of the Nazilians flooded her mind. Although she urged her body to move, the debilitating anguish kept her tethered to the ground.

Pentanimir forced back his emotion, kneeling on the ground beside her. How can she fear me so? She thinks me a monster. Hesitantly, he reached forward, brushing her hair aside. When she jerked away from him, he sighed, leaning toward her again.

“I’m not going to harm you. There’re many within the city that would take you as a prize, but I’m not one of them. Just look into my eyes and learn my intent,” he said, caressing her cheek. That touch left a tingling warmth in its wake and she shuddered, unable to comprehend the calm that befell her. His eyes were mesmerizing, yet she could find no trace of cruelty within them.

“Brahanu, I’ve tended your wounds and promise to keep you safe. You—you lost consciousness when I revealed myself, and when you wouldn’t wake, I returned to the city. I cleaned your wounds with a salve made from belladonna roots, and then applied some oil of naja and kuzbarah on your bruises. I’m no lakaar , but I dressed the wounds as best I could. Here,” he said, handing her a wineskin. “Drink this. It’s mulled wine with kava, ignatia, and rhus ox. It’ll ease your pain and allow you to travel more comfortably. I want you to know everything that I’ve done and will do. You’re familiar with the herbs, and know they’re meant to help, not harm.”

Pentanimir pondered his response. He lamented how the Nazilians were perceived, although such a reputation was not unearned. It wasn’t until this moment did that truth grieve him so completely. His heart wasn’t the same as that of Nazil’s leaders. He’d never taken anyone captive, but he knew others who had, and he’d done nothing to stop it. Brahanu was right to question, to demand, even. But how could he explain what he didn’t understand?

“When you first appeared to me it seemed an illusion or—or a dream; like a shadow in the darkness,” he started. “As your form became plain in the fire’s light, I knew you were truly there, and you were real. The rains trickled over your skin, outlining your beauty with…with a radiance. I felt the gods were blessing me by creating an enchanting vision on such a night that all beauty had been forgotten. Never in my life...not even in my dreams have I seen one so beautiful,” he said, standing again.

“I understand if you believe my words false. Even as I speak them, I’m also confused. These thoughts…these feelings have never been as prevalent with anyone before. You must know that if I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve done so many times. I brought you here to protect you from the other guards. If they discover you, you’ll surely be put in irons. I can’t fathom what the Zaxson would do with one so lovely. I’ve never condoned such treatment for anyone. I’m a Chosen of Nazil. That I’ll always be, and all the powers of the gods combined couldn’t change it. But I’m not like our Zaxson. I promise upon my honor that I’ll allow no harm to befall you. If by my death you’re made safe, so be it. I swear this on my honor as the First Chosen of Nazil.”

“Soon, I promise. I’ll need you to await me here and I’ll return. If the guards notice my absence, they’ll come looking for me.” He stood, handing her a satchel. “Please eat what you will, and I’ll return as soon as I’m able,” he said, replacing his cowl. “I will return.”

Pentanimir had only traveled a short distance before hearing the heavy footfalls approaching. After a quick glance over his shoulder, he increased his pace. The ictus of his heartbeats drummed loudly in his ears as he fought to keep the trepidation from his visage.

“That’s what I was going to ask you,” Beilzen said. “Where have you been? A guard shouldn’t leave his post. During these storms, it’s almost impossible to see in the distance. As First Chosen, I’d think you’d be more responsible. To leave the gates unguarded and vulnerable is a serious offense. If Draizeyn knew of such dereliction, he wouldn’t be pleased.”

Pentanimir paused. “You needn’t concern yourself with any offenses you think that I’ve committed. I heard noises near the brush and needed to investigate. As you say, you can scarcely see during these storms. I had to ensure that what I heard posed no threat.”

“Mayhaps that’s why I am First Chosen, and they are not. It’s my duty to notice what others dismiss. And speaking of duties, Beilzen, how long have you been away from your post while searching for me at mine? I’m still your superior, and I’d hate for Draizeyn to discover you neglecting your duties and responsibility to Nazil. It was by my uncle’s word that you obtained a guard’s position. Don’t underestimate the weight of my own to have you lose it.”

Beilzen glared at him, forcing a smile. “You speak true, First Chosen. I do need to return to my post. I was only coming to make a report. When you weren’t here, I was...concerned . It isn’t like you to leave an assigned area. Now that I know everything is all right, I’ll return to the west entrance.”

As the night progressed, Pentanimir’s anxiousness grew. He wondered if Brahanu was safe, cold, hungry, in pain, or if she would truly wait for him. With Beilzen skulking around, he’d have to be more cautious. If Brahanu were discovered, there’d be nothing he could do to save her. Beilzen would relish the opportunity to deliver such a captive to the Zaxson. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t.

“Many may seek it, but it’s you that she desires,” Danimore said. “Let us speak of it no more, your mood turns sour. There’s some muladorn stew and mulled wine awaiting you. After a night such as this, I’m certain that you could use something to warm you.”

“No,” Pentanimir replied quickly. “It won’t take long. Besides, you shouldn’t leave the gate. Darkness surrounds us now, and we must stay focused. I’ll return soon,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping out of sight.

As he walked toward the cove, he could scarcely contain his elation. Pentanimir couldn’t comprehend the feelings that she evoked in him, nor did he yearn to understand their meaning. It only mattered that seeing her had awakened something inside of him. “Brahanu,” he spoke quietly, desiring to hear her name again. A broad smile crossed his face accompanied by a palliative warmth.

“And I, you, Brahanu. However, what you’ve heard about many Nazilians is true. They are dangerous and detest humans. The majority of us don’t feel this way, but our Zaxson and Cha do. That’s all that matters here, Brahanu, albeit Nazil isn’t all of Faélondul.” He paused, a flicker of understanding reaching his mind.

“It’s too dangerous for you to travel alone, and the rains would’ve erased all signs of the paths in Depero Wood. How you managed to travel through without detection is a miracle only the gods could’ve performed. Nazilian guards patrol its borders and their eyes and senses are keen. I can’t risk taking you back to your village, not now. But there’s a place known to me, and those who live there are peaceful. They’ll welcome both of us. We would need to travel west to the Dessalonian Mountains. From there, we’d cross the shallows of the Raphar and follow it to the edge of the wood. The journey could take three suns. Gods be good, and we could reach the settlement in two. If I lead you there, will you follow?”

“What place is this? I know of no village in all of Faélondul that would welcome both human and Nazilian.” She shook her head. “My family and promised, Itai, will be searching for me. It might be safer for me to travel south, back toward Cazaal.”

“There’s no time to explain every detail now. If it were safe to return you home, I’d do so. Though our proximity to Cazaal is closer than that of this village, the dangers prevent us from taking this road. I can’t travel openly with you, and the Dessalonian Woods will shield us from humans and Nazilians alike. Time is our enemy this night, and we must hurry in whatever we decide. The sky will soon brighten, and there’ll be no darkness left to shield us. We can discuss more as we journey. I promise that whatever questions you might have, I’ll supply the answers. If you agree, I’ll secure horses and provisions. Please, I’ll see you safely to your village. Firstly, I’ve vowed to keep you safe here. After you’ve regained your strength, I’ll secure passage down the Great Sword.”

Brahanu watched until he had faded away in the darkness. Although she couldn’t sense any maleficence from him, she’d been told how deceitful the Nazilians were. Her father had dealt with them on more occasions than he wished, and warned their family often. Even when the Zaxson sent men to their village, her father ensured that she and her siblings weren’t at the citadel. So, why didn’t she feel the same trepidation that her father did? In fact, Pentanimir elicited emotions within her that she didn’t understand. Only her promised had made her feel so. Until now.

“I’ve never asked you to speak false and I’ll not do so now. Guard in my place on the morrow and everything should be all right. I’ll be gone no more than seven suns. While I’m away, I’ll inspect our traps and obtain information regarding damage from the storms. If I feel there’s a need, I’ll send a message from Mahlum. Let them know these things and nothing else.”

Danimore opened the gate, allowing Pentanimir to pass. Acknowledging the guards on the inner wall, Pentanimir made note of their positions. He turned then, hurrying to his home, and contemplating his very few options. He cursed himself for not riding his horse. Usually, the long walk through the city was calming. He’d be lost in his reflections, admiring Nazil’s beauty. Not this night. The walk home would take precious time away from returning to Brahanu.

When he finally entered his home, the aroma of muladorn stew caused him to smile. It had been too long since they had any attendants for their home. They’d made the decision together, but Danimore took on the brunt of the extra work…work Pentanimir knew would be better managed by attendants. It took many to oversee a home of that size, and the brothers left much undone. He made a mental note to remedy that upon his return.

Not taking the time to remove his cloak, he scooped the stew from the pot, pouring what he could into a skin. After searching the kitchen, he grabbed bread, honey, fruit, and any other food easily carried on the road. He stuffed the provisions and two skins of wine in his leather satchel.

After entering his chamber, Pentanimir pulled the furs from his bed and other items he needed for his journey. He glanced around once more, walking down the corridor to the rear. When he thought of the young woman awaiting him, he halted, a smile taking in his entire face. “Brahanu,” he said aloud, enjoying the sound of it. “I’ll see you safe,” he vowed, rushing out of the door and to his stable.

As he passed the temple of the Cha, his hackles rose. He turned, but didn’t notice anything askew. The gods’ statues cast obscuring shadows over him as he stared, marveling at the majestic figures adhered to the exquisite temple. Calm yourself. It’s the eyes of the gods you fear upon you, nothing more , he thought, exhaling a steadying breath, and continuing to the gate. As soon as the gate closed, Beilzen stepped from the shadows.

“I know. You’ll tell me when the time calls for it. I know your heart, Pentanimir. If this is something that you must do, I’ll not hinder you. Do what you must, and I’ll do as you’ve asked. Go now before the guard returns.”

Pentanimir embraced him quickly and then moved back toward the coppice. Although he worried about his brother, he couldn’t stop thinking of Brahanu. She was a beautiful woman, but he’d seen other beautiful women, yet none of them captivated him like she did. He hadn’t ever felt the warmth or connection that he did with her. Making Brahanu understand these feelings would be difficult. Firstly, he’d have to understand them himself.

Pentanimir gathered the damp cloaks, draping them over his horse. “We need to travel into the woods a short distance. This’ll only be until we clear the sight of the guards, after which we’ll head west toward the mountains. Once we reach the path, we’ll continue until the sun’s rise. We should arrive at the mountains pass by that time. I know that you’re tired, but we must continue throughout the night. There are falls and a small lake where we can rest on the other side. Do you have the skin that I gave you?”

“For—forgive me,” Zeta said. “I won’t forget again.”

“See that you don’t. Elsewise, I’ll send you for redirection. Is that what you want, Zeta?”

Her face blanched, staring wide-eyed. Many that he’d sent for redirection never returned.

For Zeta, the transition was exceedingly difficult. Unlike Surma, she wasn’t born into servitude. She was taken captive after her ship was ambushed on the Great Sword. When the soldiers first arrived, she’d thanked the gods for saving her. However, once she realized they were Nazilian, she was terrified. The screams of the carnage were unbearable. One by one, the Nazilians slaughtered most of the men onboard. She ran aft, trying to escape, but a soldier grabbed her, tossing her back onto the deck.

“Just like a rat, tryin’ to flee a sinkin’ ship,” he sneered, landing a hard kick.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. It was the first time that she’d seen a Nazilian, but tales of their cruelty preceded them. She would’ve rather that the gelid currents of the Great Sword consumed her than be captured by the ruthless ghosts of Nazil.

“No, not a rat, a mouse!” he said, turning Zeta on her back. “Oh, and a pretty little mouse ya are. Ya gonna show me some gratitude fer savin’ yer life, mouse?”

Zeta couldn’t respond. She drew her knees up to her chest, weeping. The soldier only laughed, forcing her arms wide and ripping her thin covering.

“Hmm…those look like ripe little plums to me. Mayhaps I should sample their sweetness,” he said, lasciviously.

Zeta screamed, kicking out at him. She grappled at her torn clothes with one hand, while slapping at him with the other. His laughter faded, as he clutched a fistful of her hair, slapping her one way and then the other. She lurched sideward, her head meeting the wooden deck.

Reaching a rough hand down to her, he drew her up to her knees, edging a dagger beneath her chin.

“Heed my words, ya human piece of filth. If ya give me anymore trouble, I’ll cut your worthless throat. Not enough to kill ya, no, no. That’d be too easy. Just enough to stop yer whinin’. Then, I’ll take ya in every way possible. But ya be a good little mouse, and I’ll be easy with you,” he said, jerking her up, and forcing her over the rail.

“Did ya like that little mouse?”

Zeta yelped when he wrenched her trousers down, probing with his calloused hand.

“Oh, a tight little thing ya are,” the man sneered. “Mayhaps I’ll be the first to give ya a taste of womanhood. Ya should thank me,” he said, as he took her.

Zeta couldn’t count how many times they’d used her. At some point, she was unconscious, and they still persisted. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t walk: they wanted her on her back. Once a beautiful maiden promised, now, she felt merely a collection of holes used to pleasure her captors.

A hard backhand across her face brought Zeta back from the painful memory. “Didn’t you hear me? Mayhaps some re-direction is needed, or I could send you back to the Cha for their purge.” Surma said.

“No, please, don’t send me away. I beg of you, please.”

“Then know this: if I need to remind you again, your fate will be as Maya’s, except your suffering won’t end so quickly.”

“Yes, Surma,” she said, repositioning items on the table. “I’ll remember.”

“See that you do. When Jahno brings the wine and cheeses, ensure that they’re placed properly. I expect no less than perfection.”

When he left the hall, Hushar stepped closer, draping an arm over her shoulder. Zeta immediately flinched, cowering away from her.

“Forgive me,” Hushar said. “I shouldn’t have touched you without permission.”

“Permission? It’s the Zaxson’s permission that’s needed. This body no longer belongs to me. I’m just the one forced to endure the pain inflicted upon it.”

“Zeta, it’s more difficult to be born free and then made to serve. We’re not like Surma, and I think that he hates this more than us being human. He’s never known what it means to be free, and enjoys reminding us that we’ll never experience that freedom again. Even so, you must try to make the adjustment. It’s not easy, and I know that more than most, but it’s necessary. When you do, you’ll find that some things here can bring some happiness,” Hushar said, dabbing the trickling blood from Zeta’s lip. “When you first came, I didn’t think I could save you. They threw you in my cell battered and bleeding. I cried and prayed to the Guardians to save you.”

“You should’ve prayed for my death.”

“No. I wouldn’t do such a thing. You were special then, just as you are now. It was good that you weren’t conscious for many suns. With the limited supplies allowed me, I sewed tears and mended what wounds I could. They gave me nothing for your pain, only healing ointments to ready you for work. It’s been seven full moons now. You have to think of your babe as well as yourself.”

“My child will be a slave, too. It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or girl. They use them both for ill, and I hate them for it. Why have the gods done this? Why not allow me to die and take this child from me. I shouldn’t love it, yet I do. How can I love it and know what they’ll do to it? I can’t protect it or myself. I love it, Hushar. I can’t believe the words as I speak them, but I do.”

“Shh…I know, child, I know. Please, stop this, stop this now,” she said, wiping away her tears. “If Surma returns, you’ll be punished.”

Zeta stifled her tears, smoothing her thick, red hair.

“Hushar,” Jahno said, entering the room. “Surma told me to bring this for you. He says there’ll be eight now. Lord Daracus should sit opposite his father. He’ll need some mulled wine as well. He’s still ailing, and I’ve been ordered to serve him.”

Hushar sighed, giving him a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. Does he need anything else?”

“Surma doesn’t want Zeta here. She’s to leave before the Zaxson comes and help Micah in the kitchen.”

“As you say. Bests help me rearrange the table then. Zeta, go on down to the kitchen before Surma comes looking for you. Might be better anyway,” she said, resting a hand on Zeta’s abdomen. “There are always good scraps that you can eat. You and your babe could use a good meal. Go on, now, Micah will make sure you have your fill.”

Soon after Zeta exited the hall, voices echoed against the stone walls. Hushar and Jahno rushed to their place near the door, as Surma straightened his doublet and bowed.

“Greetings, Zaxson, Nakshij, and wise council,” Surma said.

Draizeyn ignored the greeting, pushing past him. As the councilmembers took their seats, Hushar brought cleansing bowls and Jahno followed, filling their goblets. Draizeyn took a long drink and then popped an olive into his mouth.

“So, Oxilon, update me on the pledge,” Draizeyn said.

“As per our last discussion, the best candidate for the lovely Lady Denotra’s hand is our First Chosen, Pentanimir Benoist. He’s from a pure and honorable line, and holds one of the highest positions in the city. Only his father, Manifir, had been held in such high regard. As is our custom, your daughter must be pledged to one of a great house and station. Pentanimir’s standing is above any other in Nazil.”

Draizeyn nodded, glancing over at the other councilmembers.

“You speak true, Oxilon,” Cha Reaglen said. “That’s our custom, albeit who’s to say that Pentanimir is the best match for Lady Denotra? There are many Chosen not yet wed. They, too, come from great houses. Why not consider one of these men? Nazil isn’t the only city in Faélondul, what about Yarah, Dovak, or Leachim? There are some fine Chosen awarded with high honors.”

“I agree,” added Grimmish. “While Pentanimir is well suited, mayhaps there should be a contest of worthy candidates to win our lady’s hand.”

“Contest?” Daracus protested, coughing through the words. “My sister isn’t some prize to offer for a contest.”

“Daracus, no one is implying that Denotra is a mere prize,” Draizeyn said. “The contest would eliminate those unworthy of her hand. Still, I’d rather choose her husband myself than allow some sword play to decide her fate.”

“Agreed. As Cha Asham, I have dealings with all the Chosen,” Cha Lymbach said, pointing a crooked finger toward Oxilon. “I’m aware that you’re familiar with them through their training, but my interactions are more intimate than most. They come to me in crisis and for blessings. It’s the heart of the man that’s exposed to me, not the skill in which they wield a sword. It’s the heart you must know.”

“And what do you know of the heart?” Bisdan asked.

“I know that the nature of a man is better learned through his interaction and knowledge of faith than by how many he can leave dead on the battlefield.”

“Your words are pleasant, Lymbach, poetic even. Mayhaps someday a paean can be composed from them. Nonetheless, riddles and rhymes aren’t why you’re here. I called this meeting to finalize a pledge for my daughter. She’s eight and ten, and it’s past time that she wed.”

“Father, Oxilon has the right of it,” Daracus said. “Pentanimir is well suited, and he leads our Chosen. His prowess can’t be matched, and his father held the position before him. You stated that Grandfather referred to him as the best he’d ever trained. You also said that had he a daughter, she would’ve been pledged to one of Manifir’s line.” Daracus’ hoarse cough returned, struggling through the words. After Jahno brought his mulled wine, he continued. “Father, Denotra holds Pentanimir in high regard. I know that isn’t a necessary element when considering a pledge, yet it would please her.”

“No, it isn’t a necessary element, nor should it be considered,” Cha Temian said, glaring at Oxilon. “The matter isn’t whether she finds him acceptable, it’s whether he’s the best candidate. We must give this careful consideration. Whoever is chosen could hold the future rule of Nazil. No offense to Oxilon, but he stands to gain much with a nephew pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter. His counsel mustn’t be considered. It isn’t without prejudice that he offers it.”

Oxilon stood, pounding a fist on the table. “How dare you speak contumeliously to me, priest ! If not for ones like Pentanimir, you wouldn’t sit safely in this hall. Our family is one of the most revered and prosperous in Faélondul. My brother, Manifir, might’ve held you in high regard, but I don’t. Your youth makes you foolish. Whether my blood or no, Pentanimir is the best and obvious choice for Lady Denotra. Mayhaps you should take a slave abed and purge your fleshly desires so that your muddled mind can clear. Isn’t Hushar still your favorite?” he said, smirking over at her. “It was good in her youth, but it’s worn out now. No wonder your mind won’t clear.”

Temian scowled. “Unlike some, Sir Benoist, I have no need to abuse slaves to focus my thoughts,” he said as much to the other Cha as to Oxilon. “My mind is clear, and my assertions sound.”

The room fell silent as Oxilon and Temian locked stares. The young Cha flipped his waist length hair over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the bullish man.

“Cha Temian, your concern is duly noted, but Oxilon does speak true. The fact that Pentanimir is his brother’s son is of no consequence. I don’t feel that his judgment is biased. Pentanimir has won the last five tourneys, he’s been First Chosen for twelve seasons, and my daughter would appreciate his selection. This may be of no interest to some, but if Denotra can fulfill her obligations and find happiness, I’m pleased. Pentanimir Benoist will serve Nazil with honor,” Draizeyn said, standing and raising his goblet, prompting the council to do the same. “It’s been decided. Denotra is pledged to Pentanimir, Son of Manifir, and First Chosen of Nazil.”

After toasting the announcement, Draizeyn sat, regarding Lymbach. “On the morrow, you’ll send the appropriate proclamations to all the cities and villages. They’re to ready their best wares and livestock, and I’ll require five hundred additional gold pieces from each.”

“As you say, Zaxson.”

“Good. Then leave me to speak with my son. It’s late,” Draizeyn said.

Bowing, the councilmembers left the chamber. Draizeyn leered over at the slaves, and they followed quickly behind. When Daracus’ cough returned, his father looked on distastefully.

“Mayhaps if you spent less time slinking around in the dampness of the cells, your cough would be gone.”

Daracus’ head snapped up. “The cells? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Daracus. Did you think that I wouldn’t learn of your proclivities? You’re my heir and the Nakshij of Nazil. I’ll no longer tolerate the whispers of your visits to the slaves. You’re a man of Nazil and will carry yourself accordingly.” When Daracus began to protest, he was silenced with Draizeyn’s upraised hand. “Don’t bother denying what we both know is truth. If you need to satiate your appetites, do so in Noraa’s pleasure houses. You’ll not do so here. Am I clear?”

Without further words, Draizeyn stood, abruptly exiting the chamber. When the door clanged shut, Daracus pulled a tiny pellet from a pocket of his waistcoat. Placing it under his tongue, he closed his eyes as the euphoria from the pellet consumed him.

Brahanu glanced over at Pentanimir. The silence was deafening, and she wanted to learn more about him.

“May I ask you a question?” she said.

“Ask anything you wish.”

“I—I don’t want you to misunderstand, I mean, I’m grateful for what you’ve done. I just don’t understand why. Why would you risk so much for someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” he asked, halting. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Brahanu.”

“I can’t explain it anymore to you than I can to myself. I just know what and how I feel. When first I saw you, I knew this. Just know: I’ll do whatever is needed to ensure your safety.”

Brahanu met his eyes, feeling much the same. There was something…something that she couldn’t comprehend, but it welled inside of her, struggling to break free.

“I could never repay your kindness, Pentanimir, and I don’t mean to question. All of the stories about Nazilians don’t describe a caring people. After being with you, I can’t understand why.”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about us, but by your reaction when first we met, it wasn’t adulation. I won’t come false: such a reputation is well-earned. The immoralities and edicts of a few have infested and plagued the whole. Please don’t think that all the Nazilians are the same. I’m proud of my people. We’ve accomplished great feats and overcome trials that would destroy lesser people. But I don’t condone what some do. We’re not alone in these lands, Brahanu, we rule them, but we’re not alone.

“In these very mountains, there’re said to dwell men—no, giants of men,” he said, gesturing to the towering peaks. “The beasts they command, and the wonders they perform are mysteries to all in the lands. Are we greater than they? The Cha Asham would have us believe so.”

“The Cha Assheam?”

“The Cha Asham,” he corrected. “The Cha are those who speak for the gods. They interpret the holy book of Sulos , the ancient scrolls, and translate and teach their meaning. Draizeyn Vereux is our Zaxson, but the Cha guide us. The Cha Asham is one who has received the highest honors and leads all of the Cha.”

“We have those who teach of the gods, too. They’re called the Nohek. All we know of the Seven we learn from them.”

“Yes, the Seven. The gods of Mercy, Truth, Protection, Strength, Judgment, Forgiveness, and in the center of these is Love. Are these not your gods?”

“No, they’re not. I’m familiar with some of your gods and those who lead them. The Cha teach of only four gods. Nazil serves the gods of War, Power, Courage, and Judgment. There are no others.”

“Is there no love in the gods of Nazil? What about mercy and truth?”

“Our gods are those of strength and power. There’s love, yet there’s no god for it. We are merciful, yet need no god to command it. Our god of judgment is as yours, it seems. For all men must be judged,” he said, kicking his heels into his mount.

“I didn’t mean to cause offense,” Brahanu said. “I’ve only known the Seven. I never considered that there might be other gods worshiped. Forgive me.”

“There’s no need for forgiveness. If we are to learn about each other, we must speak of all things. Love is at the head of our very lives. Our Four aren’t named for love, but we do feel it from them. In return, we express that love to others.” I give it to you now, freely. I need no god of love to be engulfed by the feeling, he thought.

“I’d like to learn about you in all ways,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “You—you spoke of giants in the mountains.”

“Yes. Not the giants of stories, but giants of men: a reed high, and twenty-five stones or more. The mountains were named for them. They’re said to have dwelled in Faélondul, and believed cursed by pythonesses haunting the Animus Wood. They ride great winged beasts larger than any of these lands.” He paused, his brow knitting. “What force could drive such men to the mountains, so far from what was their home? That part was never told. However, they are there.”

When Brahanu’s eyes widened, he smiled. “Allay your fears, my lady. No danger will come from the mountains. No one has ever seen such beings, not even in the days of my father’s father. But even if the tales about the Dessalonians were true, that’s not where the danger would lie.

“There are many Nazilians who want nothing more than to destroy the humans. Ruling Faélondul isn’t enough for them. Cleansing the lands of humans rules their hearts and minds. Even with those few, more Nazilians are like me. But how do you stand against a man who has thousands of warriors prepared to die for him?” He sighed wistfully, shaking his head. “I know and respect many humans. I learn from them, and them from me. It isn’t something that a Chosen of Nazil should say, but this is my heart. Even an orator as adept as the Cha Asham can’t turn me from what I know is true. The humans are right to fear, Brahanu. This peace stands tethered to a brittle filament, and Draizeyn waits for the opportunity to shatter it. Don’t allow my kindness to supersede Faélondul’s histories and conflicts. If we were discovered, both of our deaths would come, but not swiftly, not for our offense.”

“That puzzles me all the more. You’re risking everything to help me. There isn’t anything that I have to repay such a debt. I’ll be forever grateful.”

“What you don’t realize is that you have nothing to repay. Permitting me to escort you is an honor beyond price. What you’re giving me is a gift, and one that I shall eternally cherish.”

They continued to ride, following the dim light of the moon. The ride seemed less daunting now that they were far from Nazil. Although fatigued, they persisted, not wanting to lose the coverage the darkness provided. Many turns of the glass had passed before they arrived at a small fall at the base of the mountain. Pentanimir stopped, leaping down to help Brahanu dismount. As he lowered her to the ground, a crescendo of howls caused her to grip him tighter.

“What—what was that?”

He smiled, drawing her in to him. “Those are jaenitu . To you, they’d appear as large dogs. The jaenitu call this wood their home and none other in Faélondul. It’s considered a good omen to have them near, and they’ll keep deadlier prey away from our camp. Come, I’ll prepare a shelter,” he said, enjoying one last embrace. “There’s a clearing through those trees and a pond where the falls empties. I’ll risk a small fire since the trees and mountains should shield us from the watchtowers. Go now, and I’ll gather some wood.”

When Pentanimir turned to leave, she gripped his hand.

“We’ll be all right, I promise. Come.”

Interlacing their fingers, he led her to a clearing encircled by flowering bushes and creeping vines. The trickling falls seemed harmonious, resonating faintly off the surrounding mountains. Brahanu’s eyes widened; the beauty surrounding them was breathtaking. It was a beauty unimaginable from the barren, rocky pass they’d traveled but moments ago. Even after the rains, the sweet smell of honeysuckle perfumed the air. Brahanu closed her eyes, enjoying the fragrance and the cadence from the falls.

“I’ll tether the horses.”

“This is beautiful, Pentanimir. Never have I seen anything like this. Not even near my village is there any place so magnificent. How don’t you steal away daily and forget all the troubles in the lands?” she asked, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun on her face.

“If such a blessing could be, I’d bring you as often as your heart desired. Come. I’ll gather some wood and stones for the fire. You need to rest.”

She nodded, following behind his gentle pull. For reasons she didn’t understand, that simple gesture was heartening. She attempted to gain control of her thoughts and feelings, but couldn’t sort any of it out. Nothing made sense, yet everything did. The why of it began not to matter, leaving only the feelings he evoked in her and the ways she imagined exploring them.

“I wasn’t certain what you liked,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts. “I have some salted meat, cheese, fruit, bread, honey, and wine. The muladorn stew has grown cold, I fear. Please, take whatever you wish.”

As she leaned forward, he noticed the dried blood staining her bandage.

“Brahanu, your hand. Why didn’t you tell me that your wound reopened? I must tend to it immediately.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I can tend the wound.”

Kneeling in front of her, he unwrapped her hand and took supplies from his satchel. She watched him intently. With the rising sun, his handsome features were no longer obscured. She’d never considered Nazilian men as anything but barbarous zealots, but Pentanimir wasn’t like that, and she found herself enjoying his touch more than she should.

“I have some fresh cloth to wrap your wound,” he said, dabbing the water away. “This naja will help reduce the swelling, and there’s more ignatia to ease the pain. It’ll serve until we can reach the settlement.” After applying the root oil, he wrapped her hand again.

Brahanu stared at him as he gathered his supplies. She couldn’t calm her thoughts or quell the eruption of heat surging through every part of her. She was both confused and captivated all at once.

“Pentanimir, could you check my leg? It was bothering me as we rode,” Brahanu lied. Her leg bothered her not at all.

“With your permission, my lady.”

Brahanu smiled, extending out her leg. Without being fully aware of it, he caressed her calf, feeling tingles of pleasurable tickles beneath his fingertips. Gliding his hands up near her thigh, he admired her smooth, ebon skin, entranced by the contrast of his fingers upon it.

“Par—pardons,” he stammered, noticing the evidence of his arousal. “It—it’s fine. There’s no seepage and it’s healing well. I’ll apply some more ointment to stave off infection.”

“When you’re a Chosen, healing is a necessary skill. You never know when you’ll have an occasion to use it.”

After clasping his satchel, Pentanimir stood, regaining his composure. The influx of emotions and thoughts were nearly debilitating. Never had he felt so vulnerable or exposed. He was the First Chosen of Nazil, with thousands of soldiers under his command, and yet, in this, he felt defeated. In the most perilous of circumstances, he didn’t falter. He never flinched, never second-guessed, never wavered—never, until now.

“I’ll prepare a shelter,” he finally said. “The rains might return, and I don’t want you to catch a chill. That tree has branches low enough to serve. Please, continue your meal, and I’ll see it done.”

Once he retrieved his supplies, Pentanimir prepared the shelter and then rejoined her by the fire. “I hope this is suitable for the daughter of a high lord and Caretaker.” He smiled. “I know that you’re tired, and the sun will be at its peak soon. We have little time to rest.”

“Aren’t you going to rest, too? I don’t want to be alone just now. Please, come and sit with me a while longer.” He was hesitant, yet inclined his head, taking a seat beside her. Although he desired their closeness, he also feared it.

Brahanu handed him the wineskin, meeting his eyes. There was a connection, a closeness that she couldn’t explain. Those feelings continued to grow with every moment they spent together. She attempted to focus on Itai and the love that they shared, but she couldn’t ignore the eruptions of heat and desires Pentanimir brought to her. But why?

As they enjoyed their meal, they shared stories about their homes and families. Brahanu spoke about her promise to Itai and their lifelong friendship. Pentanimir could see her beautiful smile and the radiance emanating from her, but the voice he heard was his father’s. A maelstrom of distorted memories invaded his mind. Images of his mother, his brother, and his father, marching with the Chosen Guard that he led. Pentanimir saw the savage as he lay dying, the flames of the Kadul whipping into the darkened sky, casting eerie shadows over the Chosen that surrounded it. His father’s words kept repeating in his mind, assailing him, shattering the lingering vestiges of the wall that he’d erected in his subconscious. AvHotther . The word sounded again, louder and more distorted than the last time he’d heard it.

“Forgive me,” Brahanu said, noting his expression. “I haven’t given you the opportunity to speak much about your family. You said that your father was a Chosen, too?”

He didn’t speak, not truly hearing the question. Pentanimir tossed his crust into the fire, rising to leave.

“Beg—beg pardon. I’m more tired than I thought. We can speak more about this after we’ve rested. I’m certain that you’re tired, too.”

“Yes, I—I didn’t realize how tired I was,” she said.

Reaching out a hand to her, he led her to the shelter, pulling back the drape.

“Rest now and I’ll keep watch a while longer.”

Brahanu wasn’t certain what he expected, if anything at all. She didn’t perceive any malice in him, but she couldn’t remove her father’s warnings from her mind.

“If he would only give me some indication as to what to do,” she murmured as he turned to leave.

“Did you say something?” Pentanimir asked.

“No. I’m—I’m just tired.”

“As am I. Rest now, we’ll need to ride again soon.”

On reflex, she grasped his hand, struggling to find her words. “I—I—you—I mean, you’ve traveled as long as I have, and there’s room here beside me. You can rest with me where it’s warm.”

He caressed her hand, fighting the urgings of both his body and mind. “There’s nothing more I desire at this moment than to lay at your side, Brahanu, but I’ll rest near the fire. Don’t feel obligated to me in this manner, please. I’m a Chosen of Nazil, and vowed to return you to your family,” he paused, lifting her face to his. “And your promised.” After raising her hand to his lips, he smiled, lowering the shelter’s drape.

Brahanu’s heart thumped in her chest as she nestled in the furs. Although she was relieved, she was also surprisingly disappointed. Raising a corner of the drape, she watched him spreading out his bedroll. The allure she felt only intensified and she smiled. “Pentanimir,” she whispered, allowing the drape to fall.

Entering his home, Danimore sighed, hanging his swordbelt and cloak on a hook beside the door. He wiped the wetness from his face, moving toward the large hearth. The embers were at an end as he rubbed his hands above them, relishing the diminishing heat.

“Curses,” he muttered, grabbing some kindling from the box to restart the fire. As he reached for a flint, the hackles on the back of his neck stood on end. He tautened for a moment and then spun around, seeing Oxilon seated on a divan in the corner.

“Uncle? To—to what do I owe this honor?”

Oxilon stood, taking a long pull from his pipe. The illumination from the bowl flickered over his face, revealing the scowl upon it. “Tell me about your brother,” he demanded, expelling a plume of smoke from his flaring nostrils.

Danimore hesitated, his eyes resting on Oxilon’s gloved hand pressed against his chest. His fingers curled into a fist, clenching, and then loosening again.

“Has your hearing grown as dull as your senses?”

“Pardons, Uncle. Forgive me—”

“Forgive? I asked about your brother. I have no interest in your forgiveness.”

“No, Sir, I mean to say, I—I heard you. Pentanimir isn’t here. He’ll—”

“Not here? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He wanted me to inform anyone who asked that he was leaving the city. He’s checking damage from the storm and resetting our traps.”

Oxilon’s face darkened, stewing in his annoyance. “By whose authority was he granted leave?”

“He didn’t explain any further and I didn’t ask.”

“Didn’t ask,” he mocked. “Pentanimir leads our Chosen and he’s not authorized to abandon that position on a whim. Why didn’t you come and report this immediately?”

Danimore took a step back, steeling his resolve. Oxilon’s disdain for him was evident, and he didn’t attempt to hide it as he had in the past. He’d never discerned why his contempt was so prevalent, but this was always the way between them. However, that derision and the way Oxilon expressed it escalated after his father, Manifir, had passed.

“I couldn’t report his leave earlier,” Danimore said. “When he left, I was manning my guard post.”

“Yet here you stand, your duty complete, and still you didn’t report his leave.” Oxilon stepped forward, dumping the ash from his pipe on the floor.”

“Apologies, Uncle. I should’ve come to you immediately at my duty’s end. My thoughts were on a hot meal and rest. I won’t forget again.”

“What do you know about duty?” Oxilon sneered. “Your blood is thin, Danimore. You’re of your mother’s line. I warned my brother about your weakness, but he was determined to have you wear the pearl cloak like Pentanimir. You’ll never earn a position on the Chosen Guard. You’re a Thaon of Yarah, not a Benoist of Nazil. Your mind is weak, your build is weak, and your prowess is weak. I tire of both your ignorance and your incompetence.”

Danimore’s eyes narrowed with a deluge of stinging retorts echoing through his mind. Instead, he took a steadying breath, proffering a bow. “Of this, you remind me often, Uncle. It’s true that my stature is that of the Thaons, but I’m also a son of Manifir, your elder brother, and your former superior. Pentanimir does wear the pearl cloak of the Chosen, and I honor him and his position. I did as he ordered me to do. Is this not what’s expected of a second guard of Nazil?”

“You have the right of it. You’re not to question your betters. It’s for you to do as you’re commanded, just as the rest of the mewling wandoughts unable to earn an Xtabyren. So, son of Manifir ,” he said contemptuously. “Ensure that you send word to me immediately upon your brother’s return. Fail me again and you might be the next one to leave the city.” He turned, glaring over his shoulder. “Just not as you think.”

As the door slammed in his wake, Danimore hurled a stool toward the wall. Yelling out in frustration, he pounded a fist on the table. Each encounter with his uncle provoked the same response. No matter the accomplishment, Oxilon was never satisfied. Since he was a child, he was mocked and belittled. He hated his uncle as much as he did him, but he couldn’t allow that anger to manifest. Had Oxilon not blocked his promotion, he’d be a first guard now and training to earn his Xtabyren.

At that, he took another sobering breath, leaning on the table. After pushing the long mop of hair from his face, he rose, lighting the kindling. For a moment, he stared into the flames, seeking the clarification that he couldn’t find within himself.

His gaze lowered, noticing the ashes Oxilon had discarded. With the tip of his boot, he ground them into the floor. “You are the fool, Uncle,” he said, moving down the corridor toward his chamber. When he reached Pentanimir’s room, he paused, opening the door.

Since they were children, Pentanimir had always exceled. His trophies and commendations lined their walls and Danimore felt empty. Nothing he’d ever done could compare to Pentanimir’s earliest achievements. During those times, he’d wanted to hate his brother, but Pentanimir had never treated him as an inferior. Whatever he learned, he taught Danimore as well. He did envy his brother, yet he loved him, too. Conversely, he wanted to be like Pentanimir. It wasn’t the accolades that he craved, only the conviction and purpose.

After their parents’ deaths, Danimore’s fondness for Nazil dwindled. Their memory and Pentanimir were the only things keeping him in the white city. He wanted, needed a greater purpose, a greater use for the abilities that he alone possessed.

Even his physique was lacking in comparison to his brother’s. Pentanimir was tall and muscular, whereas Danimore was heavier and considerably shorter. “As the Thaons and not the Benoists,” he said, finding the truth in those words. Indeed, his build resembled the men of his mother’s line, and not the strapping men of house Benoist.

Everything seemed to come easily for his brother, though he was aware of how diligent Pentanimir was with his training. There was never any doubt that Pentanimir would continue to excel. Now, he was pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter. There was no higher honor in all the lands, save being Zaxson. And with this honor, Danimore knew he’d no longer even be a mere shadow of his elder brother. Or, at least, he felt that way.

“Uhm, yes, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Pentanimir poked at the fire and then stood as Brahanu emerged from the shelter.

“You’re more beautiful now than before you slept. I didn’t think such a thing possible until this very moment.”

Brahanu blushed, accepting his offered hand. “Thank you, I could speak the same.”

“I’m honored, my lady. Are you hungry? I’ve roasted some rabbit.”

“I am. Depero Wood is full of them, and they make a fine stew. With a limit on deer and boar, rabbit is a staple in Cazaal. Even though my father is the caretaker, he says that his appetites are that of a commoner.” She chuckled, and he joined in her mirth, enjoying the sound of her laughter.

“One of our helpers, Almaz, has taught me to prepare numerous meals. She feels that every woman, no matter what station, should learn to cook a fine meal. Mayhaps I’ll have an opportunity to prepare one for you.”

“There’d be no greater honor than to have a meal prepared by such lovely hands,” he said, pulling a piece of rabbit from the spit. Placing it on a flat of bread, he served her first and then sat beside her. “Take care, it’s hot.”

Brahanu smiled, watching him eat. Every flex of his hands and movement of his lips aroused her. She nibbled at her bottom lip, admiring the allure of his. When he met her eyes, she turned, her face flushing again.

“What’s wrong, Brahanu?”

“What? Oh, nothing. The rabbit is delicious.”

“The rabbit? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing…I just…it doesn’t matter, really. I’m enjoying your company. I know that our road is long, but I’m no longer afraid.”

“That pleases me, but I’m sensing more from you. Tell me of your mind, truly. You’ve nothing to hide from me.”

She shook her head, turning away again. “I shouldn’t speak such things. Mayhaps the wine has caused me to imagine things that are not. It’s not often that I partake. Once my head clears, we’ll speak about it then.”

“Whether wine or water, your thoughts will remain the same. The inebriant only brings that to the surface which we attempt to suppress. Please, tell me your thoughts.”

“I don’t understand my thoughts, or…or my feelings. It’s impossible, yet I feel it as plainly as I see you beside me.” She sighed. “Please, think of it no more, Pentanimir. My feelings are of little matter.”

He slid closer, not turning from her eyes. “What you feel?” Is it possible she’s drawn to me as I am to her? “Brahanu, please share with me your thoughts. What’s on your mind is of the greatest importance and consequence. I much desire your words.”

“I—I want to tell you, but this shouldn’t be. We’ve only just met, yet I feel like I’ve known you the entirety of my life. When you look at me, all of me, a heat rises from the pit of my stomach. I’ve never felt that from anyone, save my promised, Itai. Even then, it wasn’t like this. The desire and longing attempts to overwhelm me, and I’m ashamed to admit it.” She shook her head, taking a steadying breath. “It’s just the talk of a foolish young woman. Please, think no more of it.”

He edged closer, gently caressing her cheek. The tingle of pleasure left in the wake of that touch caused a surging heat within the both of them.

“Brahanu, don’t fear what’s in your heart. Know that it’s felt within mine as well.”

“But how can you know that it’s not false? What does your heart say to you?”

“Know this: I’ve desired you since the first we met. It isn’t merely your physical beauty, it’s everything, every part of you. I can’t explain what you bring forth within me. It’s passion, desire, heat, all of it, and I can scarcely contain the hunger within me. I feel like a starving man offered a place at a high lords table,” he said, drawing her into him. He moaned as his lips met hers. “It’s not foolish talk of a young woman, for I feel it, too.” His tongue encircled hers, tasting every part of her.

Brahanu trembled beneath his touch, wanting more of him, all of him. No one had ever touched her so, and she was lost in the feeling, clutching at his back and shoulders. “Pentanimir,” she whimpered, sliding her hands down to feel his arousal.

“Gods, Brahanu, gods,” he whispered against her lips. “I want you now. It’s wrong, but I can’t help the yearning within me.”

“Why is it wrong? I want you to be a part of me, Pentanimir, first and always.”

Pentanimir’s eyes widened as he loosened his hold on her. That statement caused some of the turbidity in his mind to clear. He hadn’t known that she was maiden, or had he merely wished that she wasn’t? We can’t do this. I can’t do this. I won’t , he thought, pushing away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Brahanu, we can’t,” Pentanimir said, fighting against the throbbing ache of his arousal.

“Why can’t it be so? You desire me as I do you.”

“Yes, I do, more than you know, but we can’t. I’m not meant to be your first. Such intimacies should be shared with your promised. With Itai,” Pentanimir said, as much for Brahanu as himself. “I don’t want to lose you, but you were never truly mine. You belong to another, and you love him even now. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m a Chosen, and I won’t dishonor you, Itai, myself, or Denotra.

“Please forgive me,” he added, staring at the unjudging ground. Pushing up to his feet, he fought against the almost irrepressible yearning to return to her side. He’d never had a desire so strong and his entire body felt emaciated and weak with that separation.

Brahanu said nothing. Her muddled mind couldn’t navigate the intensity of her emotions or the pain of his rejection. The ache wasn’t a mere mental anguish. It was all encompassing, grieving her more than she could comprehend.

“If you’re able, my lady, we should prepare to leave.” His voiced cracked with the words. “We’ll stop to water the horses and rest when the sun begins to set. I don’t think it’s wise to stop again until we reach the settlement.” Forgive me, Brahanu. My desire overshadowed my mind.

“As you say.” She rose up, forcing back her tears. When she began to speak, she only shook her head, turning away from him.

“Please, Brahanu, talk to me.”

“There’s nothing left to say. We should pack the horses.”

“That can wait. You’re more important to me than that. Please.”

She was more conflicted now than when first they’d met. Looking into his eyes, and feeling his touch ignited something within her…something that couldn’t be subdued.

“I—I wanted a moment to wash in the falls. It’s warmer now with the sun’s rise, and I’d like a chance to cleanse. I understand if we haven’t the time.”

“This is a small request, and I should’ve offered it myself. We’ll not have another opportunity, and your clothes and hair are soiled from the storm. We should both change before we continue to the settlement. Come, there’re fresh tunics and covers in the satchels.”

Pentanimir pulled out a few items, placing them on the ground at the water’s edge. “I’ll enter here, and there’s another just there,” he said, gesturing to a small outcropping. “It’ll offer you some privacy.”

He waited for Brahanu to disappear behind the large rock before stripping off his clothes. The gelid falls helped to sober his mind and repress his arousal. He couldn’t understand why Brahanu captivated him so. He needed to be with her, and physically ached not being able to do so. It wasn’t merely being a part of her, although his throb increased at the thought.

He closed his eyes, drenching his hair and face. That calmed his trepidation but a moment until he felt the light touch on his shoulder. As he whipped around, his mouth gaped, staring at Brahanu’s stunning nakedness.

Every part of her body glistened: small beads of water trickling down her mahogany skin. Gods, she’s beautiful! Why must I be tempted? he thought as his body betrayed his desires. When she gazed down his abdomen, he twisted around, stammering.

“Brahanu? Why—why have you come? Do you need something?”

“Yes,” she said, turning him back around to face her. She smiled, examining every inch of him. She didn’t fear her feelings anymore, or attempt to assign reason to that which was void of it.

“Need?” she repeated. “I need you to look at me. I need to feel your hands on me. I need you to taste of me. And I need you to be a part of me. Are you going to give me what I need?”

“Wha—what? I’ve vowed to protect you, and I—I promised that—”

“You spoke about your desire for me.”

“Does that desire remain?”

“Brahanu, I want nothing greater, but we can’t do this. You’re promised to Itai, and my uncle is securing a pledge for me. No matter our desires, we can’t. I won’t allow—”

Her kiss silenced him. Pentanimir resisted only a moment before hungrily returning her affections. Brahanu’s hands glided over his body and down his abdomen. A raging torrent of sensations permeated his very being, assailing every receptor in his body.

Pushing away, he stared into her eyes, nearly going weak from their connection. “Brahanu,” he said, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her from the water. He laid her upon the fur, kissing her lips, her neck, and down her chest.

“Please soothe the ache that I feel, Pentanimir,” she breathed, feeling an eruption of pleasure that she’d never known.

After enjoying her sweetness, he raised up, immersing himself in her essence before joining his body to hers.

“We must begin a new search, Hacom,” Amani said. “Two suns have passed and there’s been no sign of Brahanu. Lakaar Briac found no trace in the wood, and the patrol couldn’t find her trail. We need more men covering a greater distance. Please, Hacom, we must find Brahanu.”

Hacom leaned back, regarding his wife, both understanding and sharing in her anguish. Brahanu’s familiarity and affinity for the wood did little to lessen her parents’ fear. Depero Wood had been Brahanu’s favorite place since childhood, and he’d always allowed her that freedom. Too much freedom, perhaps. Brahanu still visited Depero Wood almost daily, gathering herbs or just enjoying the peace and solitude that it afforded her. That knowledge was little consolation to him now. With the Nazilian patrols recently discovered in Depero Wood, and their escalating hostilities, he had to bring their daughter home.

“Amani, I share in your concern. I should’ve never permitted this, or at least insisted that Itai accompany her. I pray these storms caused her delay. Brahanu knows the wood and is capable of taking care of herself. We can’t—”

Hacom gasped as the door burst open and Itai ran into the room. “Hacom, you must come! Ared, it’s Ared.”

“Brahanu’s horse?” Amani asked. “Have you found them, Itai, have you found our daughter?”

“It’s Ared; he’s wounded.”

“Surely, he carries Brahanu. Surely, he hasn’t returned without her. Where’s my daughter?”

Amani grasped Itai’s arms, still screaming.

“Almaz!” Hacom called out, taking hold of his wife. She continued to cry, collapsing in his arms.

“Yes, Caretaker,” Almaz said.

“I need you to take Amani to our chamber and stay with her until my return. Have Nived bring her some dream wine.”

“Right away, milord,” she said, leading Amani away.

Hacom roughly rubbed his face, taking a seat near the hearth.

“Where did you find Ared, Itai?” he finally said.

“I took the path that Brahanu has shown me before. When I go with her, the route is always the same. The ground was still soddened from the rains, and I saw no trail in any direction. Once I neared the edge of the wood where the sands begin, I heard some rustling in a thicket. That’s when I saw him. His reins were twisted in some fallen branches. They were broken, Hacom, not cut, but torn by some force. Ared didn’t recognize me and wouldn’t let me near him for some time. After he finally calmed, I freed him. There were herbs and roots in his bags, but no sign of Brahanu. I need to return to the wood. I must find her and bring her home, Hacom, please. If need be, I’ll travel alone.”

“No, Itai, you won’t.”

“But Hacom,” Itai protested. “I must find her. Did you hear about the Nazilian patrols? They’re increasing their presence in Depero, and we’ve seen bands of rogues as well. You can’t—”

“Itai!” Hacom interrupted. “You’re promised to Brahanu, but I’m her father. The responsibility is mine.”

“The responsibility is mine, but I’ll not go alone. I’ll have Nohek Glennon summon the able men in the village. Our search won’t end until Brahanu is found. Go now and prepare. We’ll need some provisions, horses, and supplies. Please, take Ared to the stable and have them ready my horse. I’ll meet with you at the temple.”

“What about the men out searching now?”

“If they find her first, so be it. I won’t sit here any longer while my daughter could be in danger.”

Itai nodded, stepping toward the door. “We’ll find her, Hacom. She’s all right.”

When the door closed, Hacom fell back in his chair. Moisture rimmed his dark, grey eyes as he glanced around the room. In every corner, he noticed items that reminded him of his daughter: her shawl draped over the stool, a wooden chest near the hearth with unfinished stitching. He smiled wistfully, thinking of her protests at being forced to learn the art. Such a willful child. More like her father than she would care to admit.

Hacom stood, forcing back his emotion. Lifting his sword belt from the table, he fastened the clasp, taking a deep breath. Hacom gripped the pommel, recalling the last time that he had cause to use it. It had been many years since he was forced to take a life. Now, he knew not what awaited him.

As he opened the door, he looked back over his home, taking in every detail as if it would be the last time he’d see it. The tolling bells from the temple pulled him from his contemplation. He rushed through the courtyard, accepting the reins from Katar, and then acknowledged the guards raising the gate.

Men young and old crowded around the village center, approaching the temple steps. When Hacom passed through the crowd, several men patted his horse’s withers and dock, offering their support. He inhaled again, giving the appearance of unflappability, though inside, he was hollow.

The Nohek Karab, Glennon, was already awaiting him when he approached.

“Hacom, Itai says that you’d like to lead another patrol to search for Brahanu. Are you planning to leave immediately?”

“Aye,” Hacom said, dismounting. “Mayhaps I’ve waited too long. I should’ve been searching from the beginning, not leaving this to the sentries alone. Itai had the right of it, and I should’ve listened.”

“You cannot change the past, Hacom. Ruminating on such things only serves to undermine the present. Your decisions weren’t made in haste or without proper thought. No one could’ve discovered much during the storm, and the rains were blinding by both sun and moon. You sent men out as soon as it cleared, and you stayed here, as you should have. Let us now do what’s necessary to bring Brahanu home. The gods are good, my friend, and protect her even now,” Glennon said, tugging the rope again. After sounding it three times, the men quieted as others approached the temple.

The remaining Nohek and Tumishi exited, standing at Hacom’s side as he addressed the forming crowd.

“My people of Cazaal, most of you know why I’ve called this gathering. Brahanu left the safety of our village in aid to Lakaar Briac. Although she enjoys the peace of the wood, she ventured there not for pleasure, but to gather supplies that we needed. In my ignorance, I permitted her to do so alone. Brahanu isn’t only my daughter; she’s a part of this village and has touched the lives of all of us in remarkable ways. She could’ve stayed in the citadel, apart from each of us. But that isn’t her heart. She cares about this village and everyone who resides here. There’s not one life here that she hasn’t touched in a loving way. Whether a kind word, a needed embrace, or a warm meal on a cold night, she’s always given of herself in aid to others. It’s time to return that kindness and show how much she means to us. Brahanu needs us now as we’ve needed her in the past. I know there are many ill that can’t assist in this search. However, I’m asking for whoever can wield a sword to come forward. This isn’t a request from the Caretaker of Cazaal. It’s a plea from a concerned father.”

A medley of voices sounded all at once as a score of young men stepped closer, offering their support.

“This will serve,” Hacom said. “We’ll divide into two groups. I’ll lead one group to the west as Itai takes the other. Travel will be only one sun, and I don’t want anyone to stray too far toward Dovak or Yarah. The Nazilians yet patrol the wood, and bands of banditti have been spotted strewn throughout. I don’t need to remind you of what dangers they present. Caretaker or no, they’ll put me to the sword as quickly as anyone else. Take care, young men. Look for any sign that the storms might’ve left us. Don’t stray alone and protect your brother’s back.”

Hacom stepped down, facing the young men. “It’s been my honor training with each of you. It’s time to prove your prowess and protect our village. You’re prepared for whatever we might encounter. Gods be good, our swords will remain sheathed, and my daughter will return with us. We know this wood. Let us use that knowledge to our advantage,” he said, and then pointed. “Julaybeim, Nuran, Ulrike, Manto, Francis, and Aschelon, you’re with me. The others follow Itai. Go to your homes and ready yourselves. We’ll meet at the mouth of the wood as the sun reaches its zenith.”

“I pray the gods’ blessings over you,” Nohek Glennon said as the crowd dispersed. Without turning, Hacom raised a hand in acknowledgment. We’ll need the blessings of all Seven to keep her safe. We are coming, Brahanu. I’m bringing you home .

Brahanu grimaced, leaning down to pull on her slippers. It wasn’t the ache of her injuries, but the lingering discomfort of their lovemaking. Although she’d never experienced such pleasure, she hadn’t expected the ensuing discomfort. Pentanimir was a wonderful and patient lover. He ensured her gratification numerous times before attaining any of his own. She smiled, focusing more on the remembrances of him being a part of her, and desiring to have him again.

“Are you all right?” Pentanimir asked, helping her to stand.

“Well enough. I’d welcome more to have you be a part of me again.”

He kissed her hand, before helping her onto her horse. “I’ve never felt the completeness that I feel with you, Brahanu. In many ways, this was the first for me, too.”

Offering nothing more, he mounted his horse, gesturing them forward. His visage displayed an expression of love, but in his heart, he was conflicted.

Neither of them spoke as they traversed the narrow pass: their thoughts dwelled on the intimacies they shared and the implications of such desires, and confusion on how or why those desires overwhelmed them.

After clearing a ridge, and fording a small stream, they passed between two flower-covered hills. Brahanu’s brow knitted as Pentanimir paused, lifting a curtain of vines high enough for her to pass. From a distance, it gave the appearance of a solid barrier, but once she rode beneath, she noticed the worn patches of grass, revealing their path.

When they neared a small copse of trees, Pentanimir turned to regard her.

“Are you certain that you’re all right,” he asked as she drained the wineskin. “Is it your wounds?”

“I’m fine, the saddle provides no comfort. The herbs have been helping.”

“Forgive me. If I hadn’t—”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Pentanimir. I wouldn’t change one moment that we’ve shared.”

“Nor I. I’ve never offered my heart to anyone before. I can’t explain how or what I feel, but it consumes me. I wanted to please you, but I should’ve shown honor. Your heart belongs to another, and I’ve dishonored him as well. My oath—”

“You haven’t dishonored me. I came to you in the falls after you resisted. Even then, you were honorable. If you must place blame, it’s mine to own. I’m promised to Itai, and love him even now. But I can’t deny the love I feel for you.”

“That’s a feeling that we share.”

“Mayhaps you’ll have time enough to show me.”

“There’s nothing that would please me more, but our time is short. We need to reach the settlement before the moon’s rise on the morrow. However, we’ll have another opportunity soon, I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I. Are you hungry? We can stop for a while if you need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine for a while longer. What’s that?” she asked, gesturing to some flickering lights beyond the tree line.

“Haven’t you ever seen the fires of Faélondul?”

“The dusking fires aglow in the steadings and streets. The flickers furthest away are those of Lempol, Kumasi, and Kaleo. The larger ones are from Noraa. You see how they spread far beyond the others? The dimmer dots are from the outposts and towers near the Nazil bridge. The closest lights to us are from Mahlum. It’s not a large village, but it’s a well-traveled one.”

“They’re beautiful from a distance,” she said. “They appear as the lights of fireflies dancing in the night.”

“They are. But just as we can see their flickers, they’d see ours as well. We’re too close to the settlement now and need to find better cover before we can make camp. They take great care to conceal themselves,” Pentanimir said, flipping his hair to his back.

Brahanu gazed at him longingly, listening to his words, yet envisioning his nakedness. Though slim, Pentanimir was well developed and toned. She recalled how his body felt against hers, and her arousal swelled at the thought.

When she noticed that he was no longer speaking, she cleared her throat, nodding.

“I—I understand. I don’t want to put them in danger. We’re far beyond any place that I’ve traveled. My family visited Kaleo and Noraa, but never this far north. We’re moving farther from Cazaal instead of closer.”

“It’s necessary. Besides Cazaal, there aren’t any human cities or villages east of the Great Sword. Traveling through Depero Wood would’ve been too dangerous. Guards from Yarah, Dovak, and Nazil keep close watch on its borders. Even traveling further east nearer to the Fire Lands is too dangerous. Not only is the desert perilous, there are banditti scattered throughout. Our patrols haven’t ventured far into the Fire Lands, due to the instability of the sands and occasional eruptions. Travel west of the Great Sword would be equally hazardous for us. This is the only way.”

“I never thought about it like that. My father mentioned another possible human village. Noraa is large, and many have considered establishing a farming community to the east.”

“I’ve heard nothing about it from the Council, but that means little. With the human outposts already present, it’s doubtful that Draizeyn would allow it. Well, not until he’s satisfied that Nazil’s forces are formidable. That’s one reason why this settlement and it’s people are important to me.”

“I can tell that they mean much to you. Is there more that you can tell me about them?”

“It’s better seen. The explanation is difficult, but they’ll be very welcoming. It’s getting more dangerous, and the Elders and I have discussed finding a new home, a safer place, and that isn’t an easy task. If Draizeyn approves the new city, they’ll clear the wood to build it.”

“Who are these Elders?”

“They were the first. In the beginning, their number was merely eight, but now, there are dozens. The Elders paved the way for the others. They cleared the land, built the first structures and boats, and created a thriving community.”

“The Dessalonian Wood is vast. Are they so at risk from Nazil?”

“They are. Building a new Nazilian city here isn’t far from Draizeyn’s mind. All this land around you will be cleared. The Zaxson has stated numerous times his intent to have a city at each corner of these lands with dozens of villages and outposts connecting them.”

“Why must his territory be so vast? Nazil has rule of these lands. We don’t oppose you.”

“You don’t, although some may come who will. Draizeyn will ensure we have well-trained Chosen guards in each city and village with well-manned outposts in between. First, we must clear the land, and that task is a tedious one. Spero has taken years and still isn’t completed.”

“I’ve known many men who died erecting Spero. It’s but a day’s ride from Cazaal. I helped the lakaar tend the men and young boys forced to work there. Some of them were beaten so severely, they were beyond our skill to heal.”

“We shouldn’t speak of such things,” Pentanimir said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please, believe me, this isn’t what I want for anyone in these lands. I am Nazilian, but I don’t think like Draizeyn. I’d never commit such offenses.”

“I don’t blame you for what Nazil has done. It’s just the memory of those men’s suffering will never leave my mind. When they were no longer of use, the Nazilian guards just toss them ashore as if they were nothing. We had to erect a watchtower near the shore. There were so many. So many. And still they build.”

“If I could change any of it, I would, Brahanu. I’m but one person, and I’m powerless against the Zaxson.” Pentanimir sighed. Brahanu didn’t blame him for the iniquities of his people, but he felt the weight of it nonetheless.

As they continued deeper into the wood, her thoughts wouldn’t calm. Although their conversation had been solemn, she smiled. Pentanimir was contrary to what she believed a Nazilian to be. In fact, his integrity surpassed most human men that she knew. It wasn’t merely his features that drew her, though he was extremely handsome. It was the man.

Brahanu’s smile broadened, but almost immediately faded when an image of Itai entered her mind. The warmth that filled her soon dissipated as well, replaced with a pang of guilt and heartache. She loved Itai, and yet, she betrayed him. When she looked at Pentanimir again, she was confused. How ? Itai was her promised, and he loved her more than anyone ever had. She knew that. She knew, and still, she betrayed him. Itai was her love. He was the only man that she ever wanted to love, until Pentanimir had rescued her from Nazil.

“Brahanu, are you all right? Is there pain?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired. How long before we reach the settlement?”

“We could make it this night, but the darkness would prove dangerous. Though our patrols haven’t ventured beyond the ridge, we’ve discovered bands of rogues throughout the wood. Some come to hunt, while others are mere vagabonds, calling no city or village their home. We won’t rush, and should arrive by sunset on the morrow.”

Brahanu accepted his response, not truly caring for the answer. “Where will we rest tonight?”

“There’s a clearing just ahead. A pit remains encircled with stones for a small fire. I’ve used it often. Come, we’re nearly there.”

When they arrived at the clearing, Pentanimir was pleased that nothing had been disturbed.

“Are you well enough to collect some brushwood while I prepare your shelter?” Pentanimir asked.

“I’m well enough.”

Pentanimir removed the furs and covers from the bags while keeping Brahanu in his sights. He fought against the inundating emotions attempting to overwhelm him. He’d already taken more from her than he felt he had any right. Regardless of his desires, he wouldn’t allow them to rule over him again. At least, he hoped that they wouldn’t.

“That’s more than enough,” he said as she returned.

Without uttering a word, she dropped the brushwood, turning back toward their horses. Pentanimir grabbed her wrist, turning her around to face him.

Before she could respond, he kissed her softly and then moved away. “I do love you, Brahanu. Regardless of anything else, I love you. I can’t explain any of it, but I know what lies within my heart. Please, don’t doubt that, ever.”

“I love you, too. I never thought that a feeling could overwhelm me so.”

“No one knows the workings of the gods. We’re together for a reason. Surely, this isn’t the end for us. You’ll always be a part of me.”

He kissed her once more before returning to his work. The longing remained, but the mood was pleasant. As they ate, Pentanimir shared stories of his family and Danimore most of all. Brahanu did the same, mentioning Itai often and fondly. She did so not to injure Pentanimir, but as a reminder of the man that loved and awaited her in Cazaal.

“Mayhaps we should rest,” Pentanimir said, after nearly a glass. “You’re still healing, and we’ll have a rougher road on the morrow.”

Brahanu didn’t argue. She followed him to the shelter and offered nothing but a soft kiss before disappearing behind the drape. His footfalls were light and swift as he sighed, rolling out his bedroll. The vivid images of her were more warming than the fire, as he relived every moment with Brahanu. Even with the fondness those memories evoked, the dubiety and trepidation remained.

“Pentanimir?” Brahanu’s voice sounded as a melodic whisper on the wind.

When Pentanimir turned, his mouth gaped, a blazing heat erupting from his toes, coursing throughout his body. All else faded from his perception as he stood, transfixed by the beautiful, naked woman. Her thick, ebony coils drifted down her shoulders and chest, teasing him with the delightful offerings hidden beneath them.

He didn’t remember lifting his feet or anything else, yet, he drew nearer, relishing the taste and feel of his love. Reaching a hand to his clasps, he continued forward, leaving a trail of clothing behind him. Neither of them spoke, enjoying the euphoria of their connection.

Pentanimir kissed her lips and continued downward, savoring every inch of her body as he knelt in front of her. She grasped his shoulders, moaning when his tongue tickled down her abdomen. As she jerked away, he drew her in closer, not ceasing his efforts until her satisfaction was evident.

Kissing back up to her lips, he lifted the drape, following behind her as she slipped inside.

Propping up on an elbow, Pentanimir leaned down, kissing her bare shoulder. He couldn’t count the numerous times they’d made love, it was continuous, and he desired to be part of her again and always. His fondest recollection was drifting into sleep with her lying atop him, still joined together.

When her eyes slowly opened, he smiled, kissing her again. “How did you rest?”

“Too long, I fear. I have a lifetime to rest, but only these few moments with you.”

“I feel the same, Brahanu, and wish it otherwise. I’ve never felt as complete as I do in this moment. There’s nothing or no one in all the lands that can fill me as you do,” he said, moving over her.

Brahanu gasped, the rapture of their merging stimulating every part of her at once. The continuous eruptions of pleasure increased in intensity, causing her to tremble as she clutched at his back and shoulders. As Pentanimir’s completion peaked, he called out, his moans joining hers. The release sent cascading surges of heat and pleasure that he’d never previously experienced. His vision blurred, the ecstasies of his release overwhelming every part of him. He’d never felt a rush of gratification so consuming, going weak from his powerful, lingering completion.

Brahanu’s moan ended in a shriek when someone grasped Pentanimir’s long hair, wrenching him away from her.

“Ya Nazilian piece of shite,” a man spat, kicking him in his side while brandishing a dagger.

Pentanimir winced, desperately attempting to regain his senses. As he rolled on his back, he noticed two men encircling him: both looking dangerous and able. Casting a worried glance back to the shelter, his eyes narrowed, focusing on the men stalking towards him.

Glancing from one to the other, Pentanimir pushed up into a crouch, sweeping his legs around, sending the closest of them plummeting to the ground. Adrenaline surging, he leapt to his feet, his years of elite training assuming control. Quickly scanning their surroundings, he noticed his sword belt near the fire, and cursed himself for his carelessness.

“Ya ain’t in Nazil now, ghost! Ya think ya can rape and steal our women? She’ll be the last ya ever enter,” the second man sneered, swiping at Pentanimir’s exposed manhood with his dagger.

Deftly dodging the attack, Pentanimir spun around, kicking the attacker’s arm up high, and then landed another kick to his torso, before a backward roll put distance between him and the men.

His heartbeat quickened, looking at his weapon again, but movement in his periphery brought his attention back to the man beginning his charge.

Pentanimir side-stepped, rolling sideward as the man lunged forward, thrusting with his left. Coming up at his side, Pentanimir punched out, landing a series of well-aimed hooks and jabs. When the man staggered, Pentanimir clutched his wrist, but the second man’s side-swipe caused him to release his hold, and fall away. The first man grinned wickedly, elbowing Pentanimir in the face before spinning around, reversing his grip on his dagger.

Pentanimir’s vision blurred, and he yelped, feeling a hard tug on his hair, that wrenched his head back. As he struggled against the strong head-lock, the glint of the man’s dagger brought his senses back to him. Pentanimir’s hand shot up in a blur, stopping the blade but digits from his neck. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against the man’s arm, slamming his head backward into his nose. Pentanimir spun around, punching twice, and then grabbing the man’s wrist again. As he forced the dagger from his hand, he heard Brahanu screaming, fighting off the second man.

Pentanimir drove his right knee into his attacker’s stomach, followed by a relentless succession of punishing blows. When the man stumbled back, Pentanimir clutched his jerkin, snatching him forward to meet his fist. The attacker’s face was a bloodied mass of swollen flesh when Pentanimir pushed back and delivered a devastating hook kick that sent him careening into a tree.

“Pentanimir!” Brahanu shrieked.

The second man was in full charge. Pentanimir gauged the distance to his Xtabyren, and then turned, meeting the man’s attack. When the man made a wild stab, Pentanimir dodged right, but lost his footing. The man’s sword sliced down his back, leaving a stinging bite in its wake.

Pentanimir used his momentum to propel him toward his weapon. With a diving roll, he grabbed his Xtabyren, unsheathing it as he landed in a defensive crouch.

“Don’t make me kill you,” Pentanimir said. “Leave now and I’ll stay my hand.”

“Ya think ta order me, ghost?” the attacker sneered, coming on in a fury, hacking and slashing with eyes insane with rage. Pentanimir parried the well-aimed attempts, twirling sideward and feigning a swipe. He quickly retracted his blade, coming around with a kick instead. Before the man could regain his footing, Pentanimir spun around, smashing him in the head with the hilt of his Xtabyren. As the attacker thudded to the ground, Pentanimir hit him again, ensuring he’d stay down.

Once the surge of adrenaline eased, the sting of his injuries caused him to weaken. Pentanimir clenched his eyes shut, reaching up to the cut on his neck while staggering toward the shelter. When he raised the drape, Brahanu reared back, kicking him in the face.

“By the gods! Pentanimir!” she said, crawling forward. “I’m sorry, are you all right?”

“I’ll—I’ll be fine,” he said woozily. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m all right. Thank the gods, I’m all right,” she said, enfolding him into her arms.

Pentanimir winced, pushing back from her reach. “I’ll have to bind them before they wake,” he said, struggling to stand.

“Pentanimir, you’re bleeding,” she said, reaching up to his face.

“I’ll be fine. We need to dress and tie them up. There could be more men in the wood. Hurry.”

When Pentanimir stood, pulling on his trews, she saw the long gash down his back. “You can’t continue like this. Let me tend your wounds, please.”

“It’s fine for now,” he said, pulling some rope from his satchel. She watched as he fettered the men to a tree, binding their ankles and wrists.

“That should hold them for a while, but not for long. Once we’re further in the wood, I’ll allow you to tend my wounds. There’s no time now.”

He wrapped some cloth around his arm, continuing to dress. After hastily packing up the camp, they headed deeper into the wood. Brahanu noticed his pained expression, and glanced back at the two unconscious attackers.

“Where did those men come from, and why did they attack you?” she asked.

“Mayhaps from Noraa. Many fish the Raphar and hunt near the edge of the wood, but I’ve never encountered anyone this far in. As for their attack, you already know. I’m a ghost of Nazil…a taker of women. This is all that they see, and this is enough.”

“Enough? You’re not like them, Pentanimir, and I’ll not excuse it. We talk about the Nazilians’ cruelties, but the humans are not free from it either. It’s not enough. You were protecting me, and if I hadn’t been with you, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“The fault doesn’t lie with you: it lies within the hearts of humans and Nazilians alike. But this is the way, and serves to remind us of what we truly face. Even if your heart was free to give, these lands wouldn’t allow our love to flourish.”

“Yes, milady,” Ceron said. Before she could scarcely begin, Zeta entered the room, struggling to carry the steaming pail of water. She moved as swiftly as she could, being careful not to spill the scalding liquid. Resting the pail on the edge of the tub, Zeta leaned away, as the billowing mist coiled in the air.

“If it pleases you, your bath is ready, milady,” Zeta said.

Denotra scowled, snatching the long, wooden brush away from Ceron.

“No, it doesn’t please me,” she said, striking Zeta across the face with the brush. As she screamed, thudding to the ground, Denotra swung twice more, and then landed a hard kick as Zeta attempted to protect her womb.

“Please, milady, no more,” Ceron pleaded.

“You dare speak to me,” Denotra yelled, turning the brush on her.

“No, milady, please, it’s—it’s the blood. I was warnin’ of the blood. It stained your beautiful robe. I—I was goin’ to take it down to Micah right away,” she lied, desperately trying to save Zeta.

Denotra lowered her arm, staring at her silken robe. “You wretch!” She kicked Zeta again. “You’ll pay for this. Get up now. Now!”

Zeta yelped, her limbs wobbling beneath her weight. When Ceron reached to help her, Denotra slammed the brush down on her arm.

“Don’t aid this human filth! I don’t care if she crawls from this chamber; I want her out of my sight, now!”

Clawing at the floor, Zeta managed to drag herself toward the entrance. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pushed up to her knees. After reaching a shaky hand to the handle, the door swung open. When she attempted to move again, Denotra kicked her hard, sending her careening forward. Her shrieking cries muffled as the door clanged shut behind her.

“Filthy diseased doxy,” Denotra said, kicking off her slippers and robe. “Toss these in the fire.”

“Right away, milady.”

“Well, at least she can do something right,” Denotra said, sliding down into the steamy water. “Fetch some essence and pour it in. I’m expecting an important visitor.”

After sprinkling the sweet oil in the tub, Ceron began gently scrubbing Denotra’s skin. Her thoughts remained on Zeta and her babe. Too often, she’d witnessed Denotra’s cruelty. Although Ceron was Nazilian, her position wasn’t any higher then Zeta’s. Both her punishments and abuses came often and swiftly. Her body still ached from Draizeyn’s most recent sadistic proclivities. The Zaxson enjoyed abusing her as much as Denotra did Zeta.

Ceron forced back the forming tears at the painful memories, knowing they weren’t at an end. As long as Symeon remained in Nazil, Draizeyn would call for them. Her eyes clenched shut as she silently prayed again. The prayers weren’t for herself, but for Zeta and her babe. Lowering a hand to her womb, Ceron lamented the loss of her own son, and how he’d been taken from her arms and sold not long ago.

Zeta twitched, unable to rise. Her eyes blinked languidly: one blackened and swollen shut. With one hand cradling her womb, she prayed, watching the dizzying dots stealing away her consciousness. Her eyes slowly closed as the darkness crept in, easing the torment that encompassed her.

“By the gods,” Danimore said, rounding the corner. He rushed to where Zeta laid upon the floor, gently turning her over. He grimaced, noticing her swollen face and the blood oozing down her cheek.

“Lord Daracus, what’s happened? She needs help.”

Daracus’ nose wrinkled, scoffing as he flipped his hair to his back. “You needn’t worry about her. That’s one of Denotra’s slaves. Most likely, she angered my fair sister again. I don’t know why father just doesn’t get rid of her. That one is more trouble than she’s worth. Diseased human filth.”

Daracus sidestepped the two, reclining comfortably on a chaise outside of his sister’s chamber. His guards took a place beside him, ignoring Danimore kneeling on the floor.

Danimore stared over at them, still cradling Zeta in his arms. He couldn’t believe Daracus’ insensate words and attitude. For a moment, he hoped that what he heard was different from what was actually said.

“Lord Daracus, this woman is pregnant. Surely, you’re not wanting to leave her lying here like this. Even the servants need proper care.”

“Hushar will tend to her in time. She’ll be ready to serve before we dine.”

“Ready to serve? Look here,” Danimore said, pointing. “There’s a shoeprint near her womb. She’s pregnant and…and someone kicked her.”

“The slave’s treatment isn’t your concern or mine. That abomination she carries will die as it’s born, if not before. She’s nothing but a whore, and thought that pleasuring my men would keep her from serving. Now, we’re forced to watch that abomination growing inside of her. It sickens me to think of a Nazilian sullying themselves with that filth.”

Danimore’s face nearly betrayed his thoughts as he fought to keep the outrage from his visage. He couldn’t challenge the Zaxson’s son, but he wasn’t going to leave this young woman lying on the floor either.

“As you say, Lord Daracus,” Danimore said, respectfully. “Mayhaps I could at least move her from Lady Denotra’s door. If she upset her, I doubt that our Lady would wish to see her again. With such pleasant events planned for this evening, I’d have her mood remain festive. If you’d tell me where to find Hushar, I’ll take her there.”

Daracus sighed. “Mayhaps you’re right. I don’t want to anger Denotra further, but you needn’t worry about it. I’ll have a slave remove her soon.”

“It’s no trouble for me, my lord. I do this for your sister, and soon mine.” Danimore smiled, though the roiling bile threatened to rise in his throat. “It’s an honor to serve the citadel in any way that I’m able.”

“So be it,” Daracus said with a flourish. “Take her to the cells and Hushar will tend her. Just head down this corridor and then take two rights, and then the stairs at its end. After, take a left and another set of stairs. No doubt the smell will lead you from there.”

Danimore’s jaw tightened as he stood, proffering a low bow. Leaning down, he scooped Zeta up from the floor, setting her on her feet. He was the only thing holding her upright, but he couldn’t carry her. Instead, he pulled her in closer, supporting her weight.

“I’ll make haste, my lord.”

“See that you do. My sister doesn’t like being kept in wait.”

Danimore feigned a smile, helping Zeta down the corridor. When they rounded the corner, he glanced over his shoulder, and then set Zeta on a wooden bench.

“I—I can walk. Yes, sir, I—I mean. Please forgive—me—I didn’t mean dis—disrespect,” Zeta said between labored breaths. Wincing, she pushed up to her feet, only to stagger back again.

Danimore had never seen such cruelty. He’d heard of servants being disciplined, but had never borne witness to it. Now, to see the results of that brutality, caused his anger to rise. What type of monsters have rule of us? There’s no honor in this.

“What’s your name?” he asked, gently sliding her hair from her face.

“Zeta…my name is Zeta.”

“How did you come to Nazil?”

“A...a...ship. My...ship…was...boarded.” Her head lolled as she struggled through the words. Her consciousness was fading.

“Zeta, my name is Danimore, and I’m going to take you to receive care. Don’t be afraid, all right. I’ll carry you to Hushar.”

When she nodded weakly, Danimore scooped her up into his arms. Even with being pregnant, she weighed nothing more than a child. As he carried her down the corridors and stairs, he didn’t miss the glowers from the guards, or the whispers once he’d passed.

Walking the line of cells, he peered into each, searching for the healer.

“Oh, my dear, sweet child, not again…not again,” Hushar said, ushering Danimore inside. After he laid her on the mattress, Hushar stroked her face, leaning down to embrace her.

“Again?” Danimore asked. “How often have you tended her?”

Hushar glanced nervously at the guards and then back to Danimore. “Ze—Zeta is clumsy, milord. She doesn’t take care when she walks.”

Danimore nodded, drawing more from the trepidation in Hushar’s eyes than her answer. A gasp escaped him when she pulled back Zeta’s thin covering, revealing the numerous bruises on her abdomen and side. The bile rose again, and he swallowed hard to keep from retching.

“I’ll leave you to tend her then,” Danimore said, exiting the cell. His anger and disgust escalated with each stride forward. The scowl on the guards’ faces only served to fuel the rage surging within him. Once he reached the main level, he paused, his chest heaving. The images of the young girl wouldn’t leave his mind. We call them monsters , he thought, scanning the corridor.

He paced, trying desperately to clear the images from his mind. Zeta looked nothing more than a child, and yet, she would soon birth a child of her own. Or would she? Daracus’ words returned to him then. Would they kill the child and the mother, or would their abuses cause their deaths? He couldn’t reconcile those thoughts or understand how anyone could do this. We’re the monsters, all of us. He envisioned Daracus then, repeating the callous words that he spoke, and the dismissive way he’d offered them.

Whirling around, Danimore’s fist met the unyielding wall and he grimaced, the pain instantly sobering his mind. Flexing his fingers, he took a steadying breath, relieved his hand wasn’t broken.

“Ah, you’ve returned,” Daracus said, concealing the small pouch in his pocket. “Denotra isn’t quite ready, and she’ll join us in the hall soon. Come, Father will be waiting.”

Danimore inclined his head, still flexing his fingers. His attention wasn’t on their conversation, it was down in the cells with Zeta. Occasionally, he’d nod or offer some compliment the vain man would readily accept. Danimore wasn’t comfortable interacting with Nazil’s leaders. This was Pentanimir’s place, and his invitation was merely a courtesy due to his brother’s absence.

As they entered the hall, Draizeyn was seated comfortably, enjoying some wine and olives. Danimore had never been in such close proximity to the Zaxson. For a moment, he could only stare, feeling much smaller in his presence.

Draizeyn wasn’t a handsome man. He kept his thin, white hair short and neat, outlining his boney face and sharp angular features. This only drew more attention to his larger nose and undeveloped chin. Draizeyn was much taller and thinner than Danimore, and the tight-fitting garb he wore only served to accentuate his svelte frame. But Draizeyn’s appearance gave little hint to his disposition. One glimpse into his close-set eyes revealed the reality of the man. Draizeyn was dangerous.

“Daracus, Danimore, join me.”

Danimore hesitated for a moment, and then smiled, bowing.

“How do you find the citadel, Danimore? This is the first that you’ve visited, isn’t it?” Draizeyn asked.

“It’s grander than I could’ve imagined. I’ve never ventured beyond the entry or sparring grounds.”

Draizeyn’s smile looked almost a grimace upon his boney face. “Where’s your sister?”

“Zeta’s incompetence caused her delay,” Daracus said.

“Mayhaps it’s time to be rid of her. She appears to vex Denotra more with each rise of the sun.” Draizeyn shrugged. “The pleasure that she provided was short-lived, anyway. Not even having Symeon use her is as gratifying as it once was. She’s grown accustomed to his size and enjoys him more than I’d hoped.”

“That was something to witness,” Daracus said, regarding Danimore. “Symeon’s cock stands longer and thicker than my forearm, yet, Zeta took all of him. No matter the hole, he disappeared inside of her.”

“Indeed. Zeta is smaller than even Ceron, but she took him with ease,” Draizeyn chuckled. “Well, eventually, and not without sufficient pain, of course. Her expression when first she rode him is forever etched in my mind. I believe she turned as red as her hair when the guard forced her down on his cock.”

“Rode him?” Daracus laughed. “I thought she’d choke the first time she swallowed his cock. That’s when she turned the reddest. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. That’s the only use for her, truly. She can swallow a cock better than the most seasoned whore.”

“On this, we agree,” Draizeyn said, adjusting his trousers. “Even so, the larger her belly swells, the more useless she becomes. Her sniveling has become an irritant to not only your sister, but to me as well.” Draizeyn took a long drink of wine, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “That abomination she carries is an insult to Nazil. We should’ve cut it from her long ago, leaving them both to die.”

“Indeed, Father, but she could be pregnant with Symeon’s babe. Having another slave like him could be an asset. There’s not many men of his stature and strength.”

“If I wanted to breed slaves, I certainly wouldn’t do so with Zeta. Symeon would need a breeder more befitting him. It’s doubtful that he’s the sire. Although, that prospect is an interesting one.”

Danimore cringed. It took everything within him to keep the contempt from his face. Both Daracus and Draizeyn were in agreement with the slaughter of this young girl and her child. Surely, this was a bad jest. No one could be as monstrous as this. Pentanimir often spoke about the Vereuxs’ depravity, but this was far beyond his descriptions. He couldn’t allow this, but he didn’t possess the position or the influence to make it otherwise.

“Danimore,” Draizeyn said, bringing him from his troubling contemplations. “Oxilon informed me that Pentanimir isn’t in Nazil. Do you know when he’s returning?”

“No, Zaxson. He’s inspecting damage from the storms and resetting our traps. He didn’t expect to be gone longer than five to seven suns.”

“The damage could be significant since we hadn’t prepared for the storms. Pentanimir’s well skilled and should return swiftly. There’s much here to attend to.”

“Speaking of,” Daracus said. “Denotra mentioned your predicament to Father. She’s asked us to allow one of our slaves to assist in your home. Leanta would make a fine servant. Unlike some, her womb is void. No matter how often you use her, your seed won’t take hold. She’s but six and twenty: young and strong. We understand your house wench met with misfortune some time ago.”

“That’s true, Nakshij. Mithu was our last. We still have attendants to help with wash and in the stables, but we haven’t found an adequate replacement for our home.” Danimore shifted uncomfortably. The way they spoke about Leanta soured his stomach. Now he understood why Pentanimir loathed coming to the citadel. But Daracus’ offer gave him the solution that he needed.

“Leanta can be ready and sent to your home before our meal is at an end. Say the word and she’s yours.”

“I’m honored, Zaxson, truly. However, if it pleases you, I’d like to select another in her place.”

“Another? To whom do you refer?”

“I propose to remove Zeta from your service. You’ve stated that she’s more a hindrance than a help at the citadel. Mayhaps the duties here are too complicated for her to grasp. In a smaller home like ours, her duties would be significantly reduced. We’ve left much undone since Mithu’s passing, and Zeta could serve in this capacity.”

“Zeta? She’s been soiled hundreds of times and carries an abomination. The dark slave she pleases has violated every hole, making them unfit for a man of a normal size,” Draizeyn said, his face scrunching in disgust. “Besides, your home might be smaller than the citadel, but it’s one of the largest in Nazil. Believe when I say that: neither Zeta’s talents nor wits are comparable to Leanta’s.”

“Nor her tits,” Daracus said.

Draizeyn grinned his approval, and then continued. “Before that belly, Zeta was at least somewhat pleasant to look at, well, for a savage. Now she’s near sickening, and lacking in both wits and skill. Why do you want her?”

“Zaxson, my brother and I aren’t concerned about wits or beauty. We only need someone to cook, clean, and wash. If she can manage these things, we’d welcome the placement. In assisting us, you’re allowing us to assist you by removing a thorn in Lady Denotra’s side. Anything that serves your home is our honor, my lord.”

“Well said, son of Manifir. I’ll have her bathed and delivered to your home before our meal’s end,” Draizeyn said, gesturing to Jahno.

“Many thanks, my Lord, but such haste isn’t necessary. Hushar is tending Zeta now, and I’d have her well and able to perform her duties. I’ll transport her upon my leave if that pleases you.”

Draizeyn nodded. “It does.”

A crescendo of howls greeted them as they passed beneath a bower of huge red trees. They stood larger than any other that they’d passed, surrounded by creepers and thorny bushes. The small amount of sun that found its way through the forest’s canopy was beginning to fade. Brahanu could scarcely see two meters in front of them when Pentanimir halted.

“Are you certain that you can manage?”

“You’ve taken good care of me, and the pain is barely noticeable.” He glanced around, and then looked up, examining the treetops. “We’re nearly there.”

Brahanu accepted his words, but noticed his demeanor. It wasn’t merely the injuries the attackers inflicted, the depth of his anguish reached beyond that. She understood that pain, because she felt it, too.

“Have they given this settlement a name?” she asked.

“They call it Bandari.”

“How could they—Pentanimir!” she shouted, pointing behind him.

Whirling around, he instinctively drew his Xtabyren.

“Do you wish to spar, Pentanimir, or are you planning to strike down an unarmed man?”

Pentanimir chuckled, sheathing his weapon. After clasping the man’s hand, he stepped back to Brahanu, helping her to dismount.

“Brahanu, this is Nurul. He’s one of the guards in Bandari, and much more. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Ravenot. I’ll need the Elder’s assistance to see her safely home.”

“Ravenot? Is your father Hacom Ravenot, the Caretaker of Cazaal?”

Her brow creased. “He is. Do you know him?”

“Many years past, my Lady. Come, the Elders have been expecting you.”

Brahanu didn’t speak as they led the horses forward. She continued to regard the man, wondering how he knew her father and what he was doing here. But when Pentanimir and Nurul pulled two thick ropes, bending back the trees’ branches, all else faded from her mind.

As Brahanu stepped through to the other side, she paused, glancing behind, and then ahead again. It was as if the gods had cut away part of the wood and nestled this village down within it. It looked like a beautiful oasis at the base of a mountain. The dense wall of trees not only concealed the village, but also appeared to mute the sound.

Even with the last remnants of sun surrendering to the moon, the village’s beauty was remarkable. To the north stood stables and a trio of wooden buildings, much grander than Brahanu would’ve expected to find in this secluded village. However, the fiery tendrils whipping in the night air drew her attention. There looked to be a pit encircled by large stones and benches where a fire swayed gently in the night breeze. Its red and yellow flares danced gracefully, illuminating the steadings that surrounded it. She wondered how she hadn’t seen it from the wood.

More than two dozen houses were spaced around the pit nestled between twin lakes, glistening in the moonlight. She turned, hearing the whinnies of horses and could scarcely make out a small field, now bare after the harvesting season.

Gazing farther north, the snowcapped mountains were a majestic backdrop, partially encasing the village. Smoke rose from one of the wooden buildings, and a wonderful scent wafted through the air. She was in awe, and her curiosity only grew as they continued down the hill, closer to the settlement.

“Nurul will tend to the horses,” Pentanimir said. “Everyone should be in the hall, readying for the evening meal. It’s the center building just there. Come, it’s time for you to meet them.”

Brahanu released the reins, accepting Pentanimir’s offered elbow. He led her toward the hall, gesturing as they walked.

“That’s the edge of the Raphar. Due to the foliage and the bend in the lake, you can’t see to the other side. Over to the west is the Libero. They’ve taken boats to its beginning through the mountains. And these are their homes. Even the way they’ve positioned them holds significance. This circle represents family and unity. There’s no beginning or end, it’s eternal, just like family. That’s also how they refer to the fire burning there: the eternal fire. They never allow it to go out, and light the braziers in their homes from it. Continuously it burns, just as the fire in our hearts and the love that fuels it.”

Brahanu met his eyes, drawing him down for a kiss. “Bandari is beautiful, Pentanimir. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”

“Those were my thoughts when first you came to me.” He smiled, offering a gentle peck before continuing.

“The building on the right is the temple, and you might find the dawa on the left interesting. The dawa is for both healing and learning. A high lord, Saifu Voney, serves as the lakaar and magister. Everyone in Bandari learns regardless of their past stations. Here, everyone is equal.”

“What you describe seems impossible. Throughout the lands, you’re taught and treated according to your station. How’s it different here?”

“It’s different because they understand and embrace the truth. They realized that no matter how you were born into the lands or to whom, you’re no different from any other. Our appearances might differ, or the way we live and speak, but what lies within us is the same. If one honestly measured our lives, our desires, passions, and needs against another, there’s more that’s alike than not. We are one unto the other.”

“How is it possible? There are numerous differences in the peoples of our lands. Even our gods aren’t the same. I want to understand how—how—such a place can be. How are such beliefs imbued in the inhabitants here, yet aren’t common throughout the lands? In Cazaal, my father attempts much the same. He’s a high lord, yet permits our people to address him in the familiar. He welcomes them into our home, regardless of their standing in the lands. Even so, there are always those who seek division. If what you say is true, why wouldn’t the majority wish to live this way?”

“That’s known to you, Brahanu. You can’t tell someone who is born into wealth and power that they’re the same as one born amongst cattle. To them, their station gives them the right to rule, and to pass judgment. That’s not something anyone would freely surrender to another. This morality and these laws are what make this place like no other. The same rights apply to everyone, regardless of past standings in Faélondul. There isn’t one among them that order the others. The Elders oversee Bandari as a whole, but they aren’t rulers. Each person here learns the trades of the others. Nurul was a fisherman in Kaleo. Now, he’s taught that skill to the others, and in turn, he learned how to reap and sow, how to forge iron, and even how to bake bread and build.”

A murmur of voices and differing conversations greeted them as they entered the hall. More than two score denizens sat around the long tables, supping together. The hall was grander from the inside with two huge hearths on both sides and flickering sconces adorning its painted walls. As Nurul ushered them forward, a dozen conversations abated nearly in unison. It appeared as if the entire village sat in the one room, offering nods as they passed. Brahanu smiled, and then paused, taking note of their features.

“Are they Nazilian?” she whispered.

“There are many Nazilians here, Brahanu. In Bandari, the humans and Nazilians live together, untouched by the Zaxson’s edicts.”

“We welcome you, Pentanimir, Son of Manifir, and First Chosen of Nazil,” a man said. “It’s been too long, my son.”

Pentanimir bowed. “Greetings, Elder Vot, and thank you for welcoming me again. If it pleases you, I’d like to introduce Lady Brahanu of Cazaal.”

“Welcome, my child. You’re far from home.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ve never traveled to the mountains before.”

“We don’t have any ‘sirs’ here, my child. I am an Elder, however, as you can tell by the space where a curly mop of hair used to grow.” He chuckled, as others joined in his mirth. Brahanu looked on amazed by not only the varying ethnicities of peoples, but also the familiarity they expressed toward Pentanimir.

“Fascinating,” she whispered.

“Please sit, join us,” Vot said, motioning to the empty seats.

Pentanimir bowed again, handing their cloaks to Nurul as he led Brahanu to the Elder’s table. Her fascination only grew, gazing at the children. By their appearance, many of them were of a blended heritage.

“Brahanu, we’re pleased with your visit. Long ago, I knew many in your village,” Vot said, stroking his white beard. “That was years ago, and in a different lifetime.”

“I’m honored, Elder. I suffered a terrible accident, and if not for Pentanimir, I would’ve never known about Bandari.”

“My child, there are no accidents. Terrible circumstances, perhaps, but you meeting Pentanimir and coming here was no accident. This is where you were meant to be. Although the why of it is unknown, there’s always a purpose. Now, introductions are in order,” Vot said, pointing.

“At the far right is Elder Emet, next to him is Elder Hosdaq, then there is me, with whom you’re acquainted,” he chuckled again. “To my far left, is Elder Olam, and lastly, is she who is my wife, Elder Huname.”

Brahanu inclined her head respectfully, but looked at Hosdaq a moment longer.

“Your eyes don’t deceive you, my lady. I’m Nazilian,” Hosdaq said.

Brahanu couldn’t respond. There was something about him, something that caused a shiver to course down her spine. It wasn’t cruelty, but it wasn’t kindness, either.

“Ah, your meal has arrived,” Vot said when the young girls approached with trenchers of smoked cod, fried onions and pease, and mugs of mead.

Brahanu was famished, but more so relieved for the interruption.

“Please bow as we give thanks,” Vot said. “We give honor to the One we serve, and offer our appreciation for this sustenance, and those you’ve brought safely to us.”

“Pentanimir, what news do you bring of Nazil?” Hosdaq asked at the prayer’s end.

“Draizeyn is of a singular mind regarding the new city. Once Spero is complete, he’ll turn toward Dessalonia. I fear the time will come too soon, and we must increase our effort to find Bandari a new home.”

“But where could we go?” Huname asked. “Is there any place that Draizeyn hasn’t reached?”

“The One god will guide us,” Vot said. “He led us here, did He not? We must have faith and persist. The answers will come.”

“What about the Animus Wood?” Hosdaq asked. “You know what the Nazilians believe dwells there. Draizeyn wouldn’t stray too near their boarders.”

Pentanimir shook his head. “I’ve considered the same, and at great length. My fear of the wood has little to do with any Nazilian tales of beguiling pythonesses. I’ve ventured there with my father numerous times. It’s not the tales that give me pause, it’s the terrain. You travel with women, children, herds, and carts. It would be difficult and slow. It’s an option, but one we should only choose if there’s no other.”

Hosdaq nodded, and then looked at Brahanu curiously. A wry grin creased his lips when he noticed her hand resting atop Pentanimir’s.

“Brahanu, how do you find Pentanimir?” Hosdaq asked.

Brahanu met his eyes with the shock from his question aptly showing in hers. Though she didn’t fear the Elders, she did fear what lie in her heart. Acknowledging their love would be admitting to the failing within herself.

“It’s all right, Brahanu,” Pentanimir said. “Hosdaq is merely curious. You can speak your mind without worry.”

“I—I find him well.”

“Well?” Hosdaq repeated. “This is a good thing, is it not? To be found well. My child, it appears that your interest in Nazil’s First Chosen surpasses merely his health. Either that, or my eyes have begun to fail me,” he said, rubbing his eyes and then looking at her again.

“Elder Hosdaq, Brahanu and I are fond of each other,” Pentanimir said. “It’s a normal reaction with the recent circumstances we’ve faced. She’s most honorable and—”

“Yes...yes, you have honor. She has honor. All of us here have honor. What shows in the eyes of you and your lovely companion is quite different. Whether you dismiss it for our sake or your own is for you to decide. We are old, First Chosen, but we’re not without sight.”

“Forgive me, Elders, I wasn’t attempting to deceive. I was merely tempering my words out of respect. Brahanu and I do care for each other, but those feelings don’t supersede our obligations. Brahanu is a lady of Cazaal, and must return to her home,” he said, looking over at her. “And to the one that she’s promised to wed.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Vot said. “Our hearts know only what they know: we can’t command them not to love. Ofttimes, it’s the heart that leads. We don’t have to follow, but then it shall grieve, and the whole along with it.”

“You speak of hearts?” Hosdaq asked. “In different times, mayhaps one could allow the heart to lead. These times aren’t as such. Tell me, Pentanimir, what does Oxilon say about the heart? When faced with your duty, which will you choose?”

“You men and your talk of hearts and duty,” Huname said. “There’ll be time on the morrow to speak of this. It grows late and their journey was long. Now that they’ve eaten, we must let our guests take rest,” she said, regarding them with a smile. “Pentanimir, the usual whare near the path has been prepared for you. Retrieve a pail of water from the spring and Hibret will bring some fresh tunics. Go on now and rest.”

“As always, you are wise, Elder. Until the morrow,” he said, helping Brahanu stand.

“My gratitude for your hospitality,” Brahanu added.

A silence fell over the Elders as they watched the couple exit. Once the heavy wooden door closed, the Elders turned to Olam.

“Tell us what you saw,” Vot said.

Olam was the youngest of the Elders, and his lithe build and hairless face made him appear much younger than he was. His thick, black curls framed his face, giving him a more youthful appearance, and the higher pitch of his voice sounded more feminine than masculine. Olam had the gift of sight, a most profound blessing, and that had been invaluable to Bandari.

“What I’ve seen has given me pause. Thus far, everything revealed in my vision has come to pass. Brahanu is the one that we’ve awaited, and with her, the answers to many of our questions.” He paused as a flicker of understanding reached him. “Pentanimir must be the faceless man that I saw accompanying her. I thought that it might be him, but I wouldn’t speak so without certainty.”

“Yes-s-s,” Vot agreed, the assertion coming forth in a long hiss. “Mayhaps Pentanimir’s role had yet to be decided. His significance is becoming more prevalent throughout the seasons. Kuhani has spoken about his father’s relevance in the lands, but mayhaps it’s the son that will truly create the change that you’ve seen in Faélondul.”

“It’s Oxilon who gives me pause,” Hosdaq said. “He’s determined to have Pentanimir pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter. Never has there been such an ill match, but Oxilon is his uncle and heads the family. Brahanu is a complication Pentanimir cannot bear.”

“A complication?” Huname said. “The vision has come to pass, Hosdaq. Brahanu is here, and the fact that Pentanimir is with her has significance. Didn’t you notice the love between them?”

“There’s more,” Olam said. “I’ve seen a child.”

“What?” Emet asked.

“Yes, a child, and one of great importance. Not even Brahanu is aware of him growing within her.”

“A…a child?” Hosdaq said. “A son? Who’s the father? Have you seen this?”

“Yes, Pentanimir is the father.”

“That can’t be! He’s First Chosen of Nazil. Once his pledge is secured, he’ll wed Denotra. If this is true, he’s dishonored Brahanu, himself, and Nazil. What are we to do?”

“The decision doesn’t lie with us,” Vot said. “It’s for them to decide. Brahanu might choose to remain with us instead of returning to her village. Once the child is born, it would be impossible to hide his parentage.”

“Not necessarily,” Emet said. “My mother was Nazilian, yet no one can tell that by my appearance. Not all children with a blended heritage show Nazilian features. Only my brother’s hair betrays his ties to the white city. We can’t know until the child is born.”

“You speak true,” Vot said. “No one can truly know until we do. However, most children do at least have the eyes of Nazil. You and Nzuri favor your father, Gayu. But we can’t be certain the same would be true for Brahanu’s son.”

A look of incredulity crossed Vot’s face. “We don’t murder innocent babes in their mother’s wombs. Those foul herbs are for others of these lands, not us.”

“Olam, what else do you see?” Huname asked. “Your expression betrays your thoughts.”

“Yes, I’ve seen many things that have yet to clear. The images seem in disorder, and it’ll take time to decipher them. One thing is certain: they must be told. They spoke about their fondness for each other, but it’s beyond that. There’s an energy—a connection of sorts. It’s difficult to explain, and not easily cast aside. Never have I experienced such a fervent impression. His thoughts were on their marriage, not wedding Denotra. Learning of his son might cause him to rethink his position and his obligations.”

“No, Elder Hosdaq. Brahanu was meant to birth this child, and he won’t come forth without great suffering. Keeping him in her womb will be difficult and the birth painful.”

“There’s always pain before such a blessing,” Huname said.

“Not like this. This birth will be like none other. Brahanu’s life could end as his begins. The pain will be excruciating; many times that of a normal birth. They’ll need to know this as well.”

“Are there any among us who don’t agree with what Olam has revealed?” Vot asked.

“I don’t disagree,” Hosdaq said quickly. “But if Pentanimir learns about his son, what of Nazil? He’ll be torn between love and duty, and I can’t see him choosing the latter. We need him in Nazil. He’s our only hope.”

“Agreed,” said Vot. “Howbeit, his life isn’t ours to command. We’ll tell them both the truth and allow them to decide. With their decision, mayhaps Olam can better decipher his visions.”

Danimore’s head lolled, fighting against the sleep that he desperately needed. After working two guard shifts, and visiting the citadel, exhaustion was getting the better of him. The warmth from the crackling fire and gentle hum of the wind soothed his senses, beckoning him to sleep. Slowly, his lids lowered, surrendering to the urges of his body.

As his eyes nearly shut, a pained cry caused them to blink open. He stared, dazed for a moment, attempting to regain the dwindling remnants of consciousness. When the room came back into focus, his mind returned to the present, and the woman in the bed beside him.

“Please, lie still,” Danimore said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Hushar has tended your wounds, but you still need time to rest and recover.”

Zeta rested her hands on her abdomen, as her eye darted around the room. The last memory was of Denotra, and then a reverberant voice, repeating her name. What had she done and what consequence awaited her?

“Your babe is all right, too. Hushar wanted me to tell you that,” Danimore said, noticing her trembling and edging toward the wall. She cradled her womb, putting distance between them.

“Please sir, where is this place?”

“You’re in my home. The Zaxson offered me one of his attendants, and I selected you.”

“Me? But—but I’m of little use. Am I to pleasure you, milord?” she asked, pushing her hair from her face. “I can learn whatever you like. I—I promise to please you well.” As she reached between his legs, Danimore rose, sliding her hand away.

“Zeta, you’re not here to pleasure me or anyone else. Once you’ve healed, you’ll cook, clean, and shop for our home, nothing more. Only my brother and I reside here, and your duties will be light. This room is yours, and you’ll be well treated.”

“I don’t serve the citadel anymore?”

“No. I wouldn’t leave you there,” he said, pushing those memories from his mind. “Your place is here with me, and I’ll look after you.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked up at him. “I don’t serve the Zaxson?”

“Not anymore. My name is Danimore Benoist, and you’ll remain here with me. I know it’s difficult to understand, but I don’t want anything more from you. It won’t be the same as it was at the citadel. Until you’re able to work, I’ll continue as I have. But these tasks will fall to you when you’re able.”

“Yes, milord, I’ll do whatever you say. I’m a good worker, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities or your commitment. Just know: you’ll not be beaten or mistreated. I expect you to do your chores and rest. My brother and I need little, but we’ll discuss those details once you’ve recuperated. For now, I’d like to ask you some questions. Do you know the father of your child?”

“I was told that you leveraged your body for your freedom, but I don’t believe that.”

“It—it’s as they say. Whatever they’ve told you is the truth.”

He sighed, sitting in the chair beside the bed again. “Zeta, you have no cause to trust me, but I’m not trying to trick you. I’d asked you before how you came to Nazil, and you said that you were aboard a ship. What happened?”

She touched her swollen eye, glancing at him with the other one. She couldn’t stop trembling, but she didn’t perceive any dishonesty in him. However, that misperception had cost her before, and she still bore the scars from that beating. She was reluctant, but didn’t feel that she had a choice. The Zaxson could’ve told him about her capture, and if she lied, she’d be beaten again, or worse.

“I had passage on a ship,” she began. “Some guards came aboard and—and—I—I—tried to escape.” Her tears began anew as she described her capture, yet her face was frozen in a blank, expressionless mask. As if she were retelling events where she didn’t exist, yet another stood in her place, impervious to pain and torment.

Danimore choked back his emotion, listening to the horrific detailed recounting. He wanted her to stop, to walk away, but he remained attached to his chair, unable to move.

“That’s the truth of it, milord? I don’t know who sired my babe or why I love it so. I’d die so it could live free. I was maiden and promised when they took me. Now, I’m but a collection of holes, and they’ll kill me when I’m of no more use.”

Danimore listened helplessly as she lay weeping upon the bed. There was nothing that he could offer to soothe such an ache. He could remove her from danger, but she’d already suffered more than could ever be mended. He hadn’t realized the depth of torture inflicted on Nazil’s captives. Taking someone’s freedom was appalling enough, this, reached far beyond that. Zeta was living, but she wasn’t alive.

“I’m sorry, Zeta, truly. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s all that I have to offer.”

When she looked over at him, he lifted a jar from the table. I’ve mixed a tincture of herbs, and this is kuzbarah oil. I applied it once before while you slept, but you’ll need more soon to ease the pain. If you’ll allow, I can apply some now and then get you something to eat.”

“I promise not to hurt you,” he said, drizzling some oil in his hands. “Please tell me if I’m too rough. My brother’s touch is gentler than mine.”

“It—it doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you able to sit up?”

She nodded, still uncertain. Danimore’s countenance displayed a kindness atypical of the Nazilians that she’d met. This was the first time since her capture that she wasn’t afraid. Although she didn’t trust Danimore, she didn’t fear him, either.

“You need to drink this,” he said, handing her the cup. “It’s a tea that my mother used to make with valerian, chamomile, imphepho, and a drop of nightshade. It’ll allow you to sleep and relax your stiffness.”

“It’s good. I taste some honey, too.”

“Just a little to sweeten the tea. I’ll leave you now to rest, but don’t try to get up without my aid. My chamber isn’t far from yours, and I’ll leave the door open. After I rest, I’ll make us something to eat. I hope that you have an appetite for fish and rice.”

For the first time, she smiled. “Fish and rice suit me well. Thank you for your kindness, Sir. It isn’t deserved.”

“It’s more than deserved, Zeta, it’s owed to you.”

Pentanimir was waiting near the eternal fire while Brahanu washed and dressed. He poked at the flames with a stick, noticing the Elders exiting the hall. He’d missed the peace of Bandari. Only here did he feel free in both body and mind, and he longed for such peace to last.

Hearing the door creak open, he stood, tossing his stick into the fire. Damp ringlets clung to Brahanu’s face, outlining her beauty. Even wearing a plain cotton tunic and slippers, she was stunning. The moonlight shone on her glistening skin, reminding him of the first time that he’d seen her. More beautiful now than even then , he thought, reaching forward to embrace her.

“Thank you, Pentanimir, everything that you said is true. The people here are remarkable. I just wish that I could’ve met more of them.”

“You’ll have an opportunity on the morrow. They’d like to meet you, too.”

“How do you feel? Your eye is still swollen. Should I check your wounds before we rest?”

“All right. I’ve been thinking about something one of the Elders said, the one from Nazil.”

“Yes. What he said about duty and heart, and then he mentioned your uncle. He didn’t seem pleased at my arrival, and I don’t understand why.”

“What Hosdaq said had nothing to do with you. He was speaking about my Uncle Oxilon. He’s my father’s younger brother and the Zaxson’s High Advisor. I’m certain that the Elders sense our true feelings, and if they didn’t, Olam would surely know.” He sighed, taking her hand. “They’re aware of my imminent pledge to Denotra, and the implications of such a bond. Though it’s not formally announced, I’m certain that the pledge will be accepted. Hosdaq fears that I might choose my love for you over my duty in Nazil.”

“What does this mean for us? Are we supposed to act as if we have no feelings?”

“I didn’t say that, Brahanu. We both knew that our road ahead would be complicated. Regardless of our feelings, we can’t ignore our lives beyond these borders. Your promised awaits you in Cazaal as my pledged waits in Nazil. We’re here to return you to your home, not to forge a relationship. I loathe the thought of it, but that’s the world in which we live. On the morrow, I must return.”

Brahanu drew him closer, resting her head on his shoulder. He spoke the truth, but she didn’t want to face that reality so soon. “When will I see you again?”

“Only the gods truly know. It’s they who brought you to me, and they’ll bring us together again,” he said, kissing her lips. “I told you about my younger brother, Danimore. His fate is tied to mine. I’m returning not only to answer my pledge, I’m returning for him, too.”

“So soon? You promised that we’d have time together, Pentanimir. Can’t you stay a while longer?”

“I can’t take that risk. Upon my return, I must visit Noraa to send your message. It could take twice as long to return than when we came. If I stop in Mahlum, even longer. We have this time now, and I won’t waste it.”

“There’s someone I trust there that’ll help me. You’ll be safe here, and the Elders will see you home. I promise; I’ll see you again.”

She drew him down for a kiss, knowing the truth in his words, but not wanting to accept them.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you, too.”

Embracing her again, he kissed her cheek and brow, looking into her eyes. When he leaned forward, Hosdaq stepped near the fire, appearing like a ghost emerging from the darkness.

“Elder,” Pentanimir said. “Please, sit.”

“After such a long trip, I thought you’d be resting,” Hosdaq said.

“I was allowing Brahanu to dress. We were just getting ready to leave.”

Hosdaq nodded, listening to his words, but not caring for the content. He swept the long hair from his eyes, resting his gaze on Brahanu.

“So, Lady Ravenot, how do you find the village?” Hosdaq asked, not awaiting an answer. “Is it the same as you find Pentanimir? What is it that you said? Ah, yes, ‘well.’ Do you find the village well?”

Brahanu bit back her retort, forcing the best smile that she could manage. “Bandari is like nothing that I’ve ever known. It’s a beautiful village, and the people are as gracious as the Elders are wise.”

A broad smile crossed his handsome face. “Do you attempt to flatter? Bandari is like nothing that you’ve ever known because there’s no other like it. What we’ve accomplished here is a rare gift…a blessing from the One god. Vot, in his wisdom was the first to believe such a place possible. It took more years than you’ve lived, suffering, and sacrifice to create what surrounds you now. Many honorable men and women lost their lives to protect and preserve this village. For some, it’s the only home that they’ve known,” he said, and then peered over at Pentanimir.

“Even a place like this can be destroyed as quickly as a serpent can strike. It would be as simple as choosing wrongly. A false choice could have devastating consequences for everyone. Here, all our fates are intertwined,” Hosdaq said, raising the rope that hung from his belt. “It’s like this rope. As you see it now, it’s strong and tightly woven together. But if you pull at the individual strands, it’ll begin to unravel. The more you pull away, the weaker the rope becomes, until, in the end, you’re left with no rope at all. Yes, fragments will remain; but the whole will be lost. You can try to remake it, but it’ll never be as strong or as purposeful as it was in the beginning. Do you understand, First Chosen?”

Pentanimir understood all too well. It was more a warning than a question. If he chose wrongly, he could jeopardize all that they’d built. However, making the correct choice, one that kept him in Nazil, could protect Bandari and possibly aid the lands. But how does Hosdaq know the correct choice for me? Pentanimir met his eyes then. This choice was his to make. Hosdaq had made his choice long ago. It was to come here with Esme and begin a new life.

“Elder, you needn’t remind me of what choices lie before me. I’m aware of my obligations and will honor them. I’m a Chosen of Nazil, but I’ll let no harm come to Bandari. The way to protect this village is to return to Nazil. Brahanu and I were speaking of the same upon your arrival.”

“As you say, First Chosen,” Hosdaq said, gazing up into the night sky. “The night will be short, and I’m certain that you’re tired. My home is always open to you, and Wosen would welcome the visit. It’s past time that Brahanu was able to rest.” Inclining his head, he disappeared just as swiftly as he’d come.

Brahanu stared into the fire as if all the answers she sought could be found amongst the flames. She was empty, and nothing could fill the void that began to consume her.

“Brahanu, speak your thoughts.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow as well. If Hosdaq speaks for the Elders, this isn’t a place for me. I can travel to Noraa as a shadow. You needn’t enter the city; just lead me to it. They’ll receive me at the citadel, and send word to Cazaal.”

Saying nothing more, she stood, walking away from him. Though tears lined her eyes, she refused to let them fall. She could hear Pentanimir’s light footfalls behind her, but wouldn’t turn to face him. He was right, and she needed to remain strong for both their sakes.

“Brahanu, please,” he pleaded. “Please wait.” At his urging, she stopped, but didn’t turn.

“Hosdaq doesn’t speak for the Elders. Those were his thoughts alone. You shouldn’t leave the village, not yet.”

“Hosdaq spoke true, Pentanimir. You are of Nazil, and I’m of Cazaal. The men who attacked us proved what this means beyond doubt. Would I have known what that truly meant from the beginning. Instead, I acted like a foolish young girl, allowing my heart to overrule my mind. For an instant, these lands were of no thought. When we were at the falls and alone in the wood, we were this world. There were no others. To me, there was no choice; it had to be. Now I feel like the nethermost female.

“I can’t claim force or coercion. I begged for your touch, to be one with you, even with my promise to Itai. I betrayed his love for me, a love that has always been between us. I was a fool. I’ve shamed myself and my family. No one will have me. Not Itai, not now that I’m despoiled and no longer maiden.”

After a steadying breath, she turned to face him. “I release you from me, Pentanimir. After you lead me to Noraa, I’ll return to my home, and trouble you no more,” she said, gently brushing his lips before walking away.

“Yes, sir, I’m well enough to serve.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d call me Danimore. I’m eight and ten, and merely a second guard. The title ‘Sir’ doesn’t apply to me.”

“But I’d offend by addressing you in the familiar. You’re a high lord and my owner.”

He shook his head, leading her to a bench in the corridor. “Zeta, I don’t own anyone. It may be difficult for you to comprehend, but I don’t want ownership of you. I offer you the safety of my home, good food, and a warm bed. In return, I ask you to cook and clean. That’s all I expect and require. I know that I’m Nazilian, but I’m not like those in the citadel. My brother and I speak about it often, and we’re not alone. Even so, we dare not mention this to any other. The kindness that I extend to you could be perceived as a slight by some. But showing kindness isn’t a weakness, regardless of whom it’s offered to. I don’t condone the torture or enslavement of anyone: human or Nazilian. In times of war, ransoms are secured by taking captives. Nazil isn’t at war, and our coffers are full. There’s no need for captives.”

He rose then, helping her to stand. “Has anyone contacted your home demanding a ransom?”

She peered at him from the corner of her eye. “My father’s a smith, and I was promised to his apprentice, Radich. We don’t have the coin for a ransom.”

“A smith? Please don’t take offense, but you seemed learned to me.”

“My mother used to teach me before she passed. Once I was old enough, my father helped at the temple in exchange for my lessons. I helped cook and wash, too.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from Noraa.”

“Travel on ships is costly, and from what I’ve heard, they don’t take on many female passengers. How is it that you were traveling alone?”

“I—I wasn’t alone. My father didn’t want me to go, but I’d never been on a ship. It was just supposed to be a short trip to Kaleo to deliver supplies. We could’ve taken the cart, but I wanted to sail. It—it was my uncle, Raithym. He’s the one that told me to hide, and I haven’t seen him since they took me.”

“I’m sorry, Zeta. I could check to see if your uncle’s in Nazil. If I can find him, I’ll bring him here.”

She halted, looking up at him with tear lined eyes. “He’s not here, not anymore.”

Danimore visibly winced, needing no further explanation. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to—I was just—forgive me. Why don’t you rest a while longer and I’ll warm the pottage and honey milk.”

Cradling her womb, she hobbled after him. “No, please. It’s my duty to prepare the meals. I’ll be all right, please let me serve you, D—Danimore. I’m a good worker.”

He nodded, allowing her to pass. After taking his seat, Danimore watched her limp around the kitchen, finding what she needed. She was still in pain, but he didn’t move to assist. If she was ever to feel comfortable with him or learn his heart, it would be on her terms, and he’d allow her that.

Despite her numerous bruises, he couldn’t help noticing her beauty. Zeta’s thick, red hair framed her cherubic face perfectly, accentuating her emerald-colored eyes. However, it wasn’t merely her appearance; it was the beauty within. Even with her abuse, a warmth radiated from her that the Zaxson couldn’t extinguish. His admiration grew at that moment.

“Zeta, how old are you?”

“I’m six and ten, milord,” she said, stirring the large pot, and then tasting a spoonful. “A woman grown.”

She looked much younger, barely standing over three cubits and not weighing much more than eight stone, even pregnant.

Setting a bowl of pottage and mug of honey milk on the table, Zeta lifted a pail from the floor. “Please eat while it’s warm. Pottage is never good once it’s grown cold.”

“What about you? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’ll eat what’s left. I’m going to boil some water for wash.”

She flinched when he reached out for her arm.

“No, you’re not. I’m not eating alone and you’re not eating scraps like a dog.”

“But, sir, Danimore, I can’t. I—”

“While you’re here with me, you’ll eat as I eat. You’ll not stand and watch me satisfy my hunger while you and your babe starve.” Filling another bowl, he set it on the table, nudging her toward the chair. “I’ll warm some more milk for you.”

Zeta was on the verge of panic. Her stomach churned from hunger, but she couldn’t move.

“Here you are, some warm milk with honey. That should satisfy your babe and you as well,” he said, taking a seat across from her.

“This is delicious, Zeta, much better than it was. What did you do?”

She was hesitant, but the comment made her smile. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone complimented anything that she’d done.

“There—there’s no magic. You had done most of it yourself. I just added a pinch of spice, milord.”

“I’ll leave the cooking to you from now on,” he chuckled. “My meals would pale in comparison. Not since my mother have I had such tasty pottage,” he said, finishing his bowl and refilling it. “Would you like some more?”

“No, thank you.”

As he lowered to his seat, a loud thumping sounded from the door. Setting his bowl down in frustration, he rose to answer it.

“Beilzen? To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, facetiously.

He peered around Danimore, seeing Zeta. “Is that the Zaxson’s slave seated at the table like a guest?”

Danimore moved forward, forcing him back outside. “Where Zeta rests between her chores isn’t your concern. She’s done what I asked and prepared my meal. Why do you care, Beilzen?”

“If that’s so, then why is she also partaking in that meal? Neither the Zaxson nor your uncle would be pleased to learn about this. Slaves don’t eat at our tables.”

Danimore stepped forward, leaning over him. “It isn’t anyone’s concern what I do in my home. The Zaxson gifted Zeta to me. You order your attendants, not mine, son of Perrin. My father allowed our attendants to sup with us. If you’re questioning me, you’re questioning Manifir Benoist, too. Are you certain that’s something that you want to do?”

“I—I would never question your father. Sir Manifir received the highest honors and—and is revered by all of Nazil. I was only offering a warning. Had it been Sir Oxilon visiting, he wouldn’t be pleased. I’m not questioning—”

“What do you want, Beilzen? My meal grows cold while you prattle on.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Sir Oxilon sent me to retrieve you. He’s in conference with the Cha Asham and requested your presence.”

“Requested? I’ll see him after I eat,” Danimore said, slamming the door in his face.

Shaking his head, he noticed Zeta struggling with a pail. When he rushed forward to grab it, she yelped, stumbling back against the wall. Water splashed over the floor as the pail landed on its side.

She gasped, immediately lowering to her knees, wiping the puddle with her skirt. “Please, please, forgive me, milord. I—I’ll clean it, please, I didn’t mean to.”

Danimore was frozen, watching her wiping the same spot. Her dress was soddened as she wept, huddling upon the floor.

“It wasn’t your fault, Zeta. You didn’t see me coming, and I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I’m the one who’s sorry. Please, get up from there,” he said, helping her to rise. After walking over to the divan, he took a seat beside her.

“Zeta, I wasn’t trying to frighten you. Once the pails are full, they’re too heavy for you to carry. You’re pregnant and shouldn’t lift such weight. It’s no trouble for me to fill the barrel each morning before I take leave. This way, you can take what you need in smaller amounts, causing no strain.”

“It’s my duty, milord. I used to fetch water for Lady Denotra, and I’m used to it. I can manage.”

“Must you always make an argument with me? You’re not serving Lady Denotra. In my home, this duty doesn’t belong to you. I’ll fill the barrel and you can scoop what you need from it. It would be filled now if I hadn’t neglected the duty myself. Mind what I tell you.”

“Yes, milord. I’ll use what’s left in the barrel to clean, but there isn’t enough to do the washing.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Use what’s left for your basin so you can wash and change. You’ll catch a chill in that wet dress.” He rose up, attaching his belt and cloak. “I’m going to meet my uncle, but I’ll fetch more water when I return. After you’ve changed, you can prepare the vegetables for the median meal. I’ll stop by the market for more on my way home. You still need to heal, Zeta. There’s more oil on the shelf, and a poultice in soak beside it. Your face yet swells, and I’d like to see your eye fully open. Take care, I’ll return as swiftly as possible.”

As the sun crested over the treetops, Pentanimir began to stir. Recurring thoughts of Brahanu had kept his sleep at bay. Her words continuously repeated in his mind, just as plainly as when she’d spoken them. She bore no fault, though she felt otherwise. He was the First Chosen and should’ve acted as his position demanded. Honor Above All is their maxim, and he’d betrayed those words.

Opening his eyes, he wiped the wariness away, rising from the ground. The fishermen were loading their boats as a light fog wafted across the water. Bandari was beautiful, but with the conflicting maelstrom of emotions inundating him, he couldn’t appreciate that beauty as he once did.

His gaze rested on Brahanu’s whare. Although his heart urged him to be with her, his mind superseded his desire. With a defeated sigh, he rolled up his bed, tying the rope around it. As he turned, Wosen was feeding the braziers near the hall, and he went to him instead.

Pentanimir was fond of him and appreciated his love for Nazil. Though he was Hosdaq’s son, only his eyes gave hint to that parentage. Unlike others in the village, Wosen embraced his Nazilian heritage and wanted to become a Chosen. But that was a path that he couldn’t walk, no matter how Pentanimir wished it otherwise.

“Good morrow.” Wosen smiled. “How was your night?”

“The night was long, my good friend, long and cold.”

“Indeed, Bandari’s chill is greater than that of Nazil. Why didn’t you come to our home? It’s been long since I’ve seen you.”

“I spoke with your father about the same. I didn’t want to disturb your rest, and I’m not traveling alone.”

“Father told me that we had a visitor.”

“Yes, she met the others at the evening meal. Why weren’t you there?”

Wosen’s smile broadened. “I trekked up the path to where my father and Kuhani spar. I’m getting better, you know,” he said, picking up a stick and assuming a defensive posture. “Soon, I’ll be good enough for the Chosen Guard.”

Dropping his bedroll, Pentanimir grabbed a stick, standing at the ready. He scrutinized Wosen’s stance and his grip on the ersatz sword. With a quick lunge, the wood met, as Wosen parried his strike. Pentanimir returned his smile, as they traded thrusts and parries. Wosen’s form was better, but his movement was still sluggish. Pentanimir allowed an opening, barely parrying the swipe that he knew would follow.

Tightening his grip, Wosen parried Pentanimir’s next thrust, attempting a glissade. But Pentanimir back stepped, dipping low, ending up at his side. Before Wosen could repost, Pentanimir half-turned, following with a quick balestra.

“Your speed has improved,” Pentanimir said, and then lunged forward again, wrenching the ersatz sword from Wosen’s hand. “But your form still needs work.”

Wosen sighed, shaking his head. “My father hasn’t increased my training. He stresses my use of the bow, regardless of my requests. The Chosen don’t fight with a bow, it’s the Xtabyren that proves their prowess.”

“Not all Chosen receive the honor of an Xtabyren, Wosen. Just like you, I trained with the bow and still do. It’s a necessary skill to have on the Guard. We strive for the Xtabyren, but it’s not essential to becoming a Chosen.”

“Not everyone earns one, but the best do. Father doesn’t even allow me to see his. He calls it a weapon of war. It’s like he’s not proud of his people or what he’s achieved.”

“Give him time, Wosen. Hosdaq has seen and experienced more than either of us. He’s proud of our people, but not what they’ve done. Mayhaps after you’ve mastered the bow, he’ll begin training you more with the sword. However, the Xtabyren is a special weapon. Not all Chosen have earned the privilege to wield one. Give it time and I’m certain that your father will train you. Come now, what chores do you have left?” Pentanimir asked, clapping him on the back.

“I’m supposed to take some milled grain to the kitchen.”

Pentanimir nodded, following behind his lead. More villagers began milling about, attending their morning chores. Pentanimir could smell the dawning meal as he watched the village awaken.

He chuckled when Sahma launched toward him, offering an embrace. He returned the tight hug, while feeling her fingers flittering through his long hair.

“It’s good to see you, Pentanimir. You can’t leave without me brushing and braiding your hair.” She smiled, drawing him down to kiss his cheek. “Last time, I didn’t get to do it.”

“I’d trust no other to care for it than you, Sahma, I promise.”

She nodded, giving Wosen a hug, too, before rushing off to the stable. Pentanimir glanced over at Wosen and the broad smile that he wore. Wosen was tall and slender like his father, but with thick, brown curls and sun kissed skin, he had the appearance of a human. His father had left Nazil to marry his mother, Esme. After she passed giving birth to their daughter, Hosdaq remained with his children and friends in Bandari. Pentanimir envied his life and mourned it at the same time. Hosdaq was an honorable man, yet the years alone had left him bitter.

“Pentanimir!” Hibret yelled. “You must come.”

He whipped around, watching her swift approach. “What’s happened? Are your parents all right?”

“It’s Brahanu; she’s not well. I’m going to get Nzuri and Kuhani, but she’s asked for you. Hurry,” she said, rushing to the temple.

Pentanimir blanched, unable to respond. After regaining himself, he ran toward the whare with Wosen at his side.

Hosdaq’s brow creased, noticing the commotion. When his son neared, he called out to him.

“Yes, Father?” Wosen asked.

“Where are you headed? Is there something wrong?”

“I was going with Pentanimir. Hibret said that his friend is ill and she’s going to get Nzuri and Kuhani.”

“Truly,” Hosdaq said, stifling a smile. “Mayhaps you should inform the Elders and I’ll check on our guest.”

Wosen sighed. “Yes, Father.”

Hosdaq adjusted his cloak, staring over at the whare. Could it be the child? If it were, Pentanimir wouldn’t be conflicted. He’d return to Nazil, and meet his obligations , he thought, taking a step forward. When he felt the light touch on his shoulder, he nearly jumped.

“Os—Osmara,” he stammered.

“Pardons, Elder, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was wondering if you’d like to escort me to the hall? The meal is almost ready.”

Hosdaq smiled, raising her hand to his lips. “I’d like to attend, but I need to visit our guest. Could you go by my home and take Malkia?”

“Forgive me, Pentanimir. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to be without you, but I understand. You’re right, and I shouldn’t have behaved as I did.”

“There’s no fault: not now or at the falls. Your god of love brought you to me, and you’ll never leave my heart.”

“My heart would wither if you weren’t a part of it.

“What we face now won’t always be. The gods are good, and they’ll not leave us,” he said, leaning down for a kiss.

“Elders,” Nzuri said, entering with Hosdaq and Huname. “Is this young lady special to Pentanimir? I thought that he brought her here for safety.”

“He did, good Nzuri,” Hosdaq said. “There’s nothing more to tell.”

“Forgive me, Hosdaq, but that wasn’t a kiss of friendship,” Nzuri said.

Hosdaq waved dismissively. “The young lady has fallen ill, and he’s worried about her. We know Pentanimir’s heart. His concern extends to all the lands, especially those under his care. Is such a sight a thing of wonder?”

“Has someone offended you, Hosdaq?” Huname asked.

“Has there been offense? You seemed determined to disparage or disregard their relationship. It’s not for us to decide their road or how they walk upon it. Denying this truth doesn’t render it void. It will be, regardless of your cavil.”

“Cavil! You dare—”

“I speak truth, Hosdaq. You used to value the same not long ago.”

Huname shrugged. “I left him not long ago as Nzuri tended Brahanu. Matters of such importance need all of our voices. I hope that I didn’t offend him by speaking the truth.”

“Truth is always preferred to giving false counsel,” Vot said. “It isn’t always received with gratitude at first hearing, but as words have time to penetrate, their legitimacy can no longer be repudiated.”

“What about those who know the truth, yet refuse to accept it?” Emet asked.

“There are those who won’t accept the truth simply because they don’t wish it. But that doesn’t change what is or what will soon be. Such attitudes only cause division and confusion where harmony should reside. We’re tasked as leaders of sorts, and it’s our example and guidance the others follow. This folly of Hosdaq’s can’t continue. We must remain unified and focused if we’re to protect our families and home.”

“I pray so,” Emet said. “These recent revelations are paramount to our survival. Doesn’t Hosdaq realize that?”

“Mayhaps it’s time to pose that question to him,” Vot said, gesturing toward the door.

Hosdaq entered the room wearing nearly a scowl. As he swaggered down the long aisle, he nodded from side to side, returning pleasantries to those who offered them. Standing tall and straight, he clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his head held high. The freshly polished leather boots he wore matched his cloak, which was adorned with a gold broach that likewise matched his tunic with its fine black scrollwork on the front. Inclining his head, he took his seat, thanking the young maids who brought his meal.

“Elder Hosdaq, you’re dressed for ceremony. Had we known, mayhaps we could’ve donned our fine garb as well,” Vot said, raising his cup.

“This is a day of special significance, I’m told. I believe the fate of everyone in Bandari hangs upon the feeblest of filaments and the shifting lusts of a young man’s loins. Such important affairs deserve the appropriate attire and attention,” Hosdaq said, popping a piece of bread in his mouth.

“Do you mock these issues?” Olam asked.

“Elders, I do not mock. I’ve given our circumstances careful consideration. It’s the importance of this day and its decisions that demanded such honor. We can only hope that our guests understand the consequences of those decisions. Being led by our hearts usually leads to ruin, but when we allow reason and logic to lead, the outcome is more desirable. We must give wise counsel, despite our predilection for the amatory. It isn’t our place to instruct, but we are meant to guide.”

“Indeed,” Huname said. “We are here to guide. Everyone in Bandari has the right to choose. Each of us made a choice long ago to begin a new life here. That wasn’t due to force or coercion, nor can anyone force us from here.”

“No, Elder, on that you’re mistaken.” Hosdaq smirked. “Yes, we decided to build here after Hyorin was destroyed, but are we not seeking a new home now? Is this due to our choice? No. We’re being forced from our home by the choice of another. No one wants to leave our home, and we haven’t willingly decided to do so. So, we’re leaving not from choice, but out of necessity and self-preservation. Ofttimes we need to do what’s necessary, above what’s preferred.”

“You’re not wrong,” Emet said. “To preserve what we’ve built, it might become necessary to abandon our home. Although, some might choose to remain in Bandari, and it would be their right to do so. We don’t force or forbid, Elder. The Hosdaq of past seasons, the one I admired would know this.”

Hosdaq’s head snapped up, and Emet continued. “Elder, we aren’t minimalizing your concerns. All our fates are intertwined. However, this decision isn’t ours. Olam’s visions have revealed more than what Brahanu and Pentanimir know. Allow them the same curtesy that was afforded to you. Allow them to choose.”

Pentanimir remained kneeling when the door creaked open. He held Brahanu’s hand to his chest, watching the rhythm of her breathing. She seemed comfortable now and free from pain. He smiled wistfully, dabbing her forehead again, and moistening her lips.

“How’s Brahanu?” Nzuri asked, entering with the Elders.

“She’s resting peacefully now,” Pentanimir said. “I gave her the tincture when she awakened not long ago. Since your leave, her stomach has calmed, and the pain lessened.”

Brahanu nodded weakly as he approached the bed.

“I’ve brought some more kuzbarah oil and a tea you’ll need to drink,” Nzuri said. “The fever steals fluid from the body, and you’ll need to replenish it. I’ll be in the dawa with Saifu if you need me. The Elders wish words with you now.”

“Thank you,” Brahanu said. “For all that you’ve done.”

“The pleasure was mine, my lady,” he said, leaving them to talk.

“Brahanu, are you well enough to speak with us?” Huname asked.

“I’m tired, but I can manage.”

Olam nodded. “Pentanimir, we spoke many seasons ago about numerous future events and others from your past that I shouldn’t have known. You didn’t believe everything I revealed, but you did listen. When you returned, you admitted that those tellings or visions came to pass. Do you remember?”

“I’ve had another partial vision. It’s my belief that the rest of that vision depends upon you.”

“Yes,” Olam said. “This road has two paths. Until one is chosen, the complete vision can’t be revealed. It’s like a tale with alternate endings: the decision is what determines the outcome. That decision belongs to you. But the battle waging inside of you is hindering that choice and obfuscating my vision.”

“It’s not an admonition or an easy road. Your heart is in conflict with your mind, First Chosen. You must still your thoughts and realign your spirit.”

“These pointless riddles are causing delay,” Hosdaq interrupted. “Speak plainly, Olam. Isn’t this why we’re here. Tell them your vision so that they can decide.”

“Please, Elders, tell us. If we’re a part of this…this vision, we must know,” Brahanu said, pushing up in the bed.

“Yes,” Pentanimir agreed. “Is there peril ahead?”

“Peril, jubilance...who’s to say with certainty? Your decisions will dictate events. Within these events lie both, for there can’t be one without the other,” Olam said. “Pentanimir, you’re the First Chosen of Nazil, yet you are in love with Brahanu.” Olam raised his hand to silence any retort. “I knew this before your arrival. Never have I felt such a prevalent impression.”

Brahanu swallowed hard, clasping Pentanimir’s hand. “I was in your vision, Elder?”

“You were, yet I only saw a shadow at your side, one who would guide and protect you. That shadow was Pentanimir. Mayhaps it wasn’t until he submitted to the will of the One god that his face was revealed. There’s always choice, and choice predicts outcome.”

“But Elder, I didn’t hesitate to aid Brahanu.”

“Whether you realize it or not, Pentanimir, you did consider another path. This wouldn’t have led you directly here with Brahanu, but another in your place. It wasn’t the aid that was to be decided, but he who would provide it.”

Pentanimir gazed off in contemplation, recalling the events of that night. The voices, images, and conversations rushed through his mind like a torrential current in a storm. With a gasp, he met Olam’s eyes.

“Ah, it’s come back to you,” Olam said. “Choice predicts outcome. The sight showed your coming here, but the shadow was a decision yet to be made.”

“You cannot relive what has passed in hopes of changing it,” Huname said. “Take comfort in knowing that you made the correct choice.”

“The Elder speaks true,” Olam said. “We must focus on the present as we prepare for the future. Whether near or far, it starts with this day.

“Brahanu, I feel the love that you hold for Pentanimir. When our head priest, Kuhani, came to you, his merge allowed him an unambiguous glimpse into your mind and heart. The ease of your acceptance of him joining his mind to yours only amplified the truth already known. The intensity of your emotion is overpowering, and this is why you’re confused and afraid. You’re conflicted between the love of another, and your passion for the First Chosen.”

She only nodded, lowering her gaze.

“This isn’t a thing of shame. Love is one of the greatest gifts that we can bestow upon another.”

Olam stepped closer, lowering his voice. “It was this same love that caused you to become one with each other.”

Brahanu gasped, burying her face in her hands. As she continued to weep, Pentanimir embraced her.

“Do you attempt to shame her?” Pentanimir asked, angrily. “I’m to blame for this, not her. Why would you say this, Olam, why?”

“I speak only what’s necessary, First Chosen. We shame no one by speaking truth. Some truths are sharp, but they must be faced regardless of their edge.

“You’ve set important events into motion. Right or wrong the choice, the consequence forever follows. Remember that,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“What I must reveal will be difficult, but it’s the most prevalent vision, and it’s come to me often. The reoccurrence of a vision is powerful. Of everything I’ve said, this is of the greatest importance,” Olam said, meeting their eyes.

“Brahanu, you are with child.”

Danimore pulled up on his reins, staring out over the city. The trip to the temple would be far too short and he dreaded meeting with his uncle. Beilzen’s visit was a presage to this, and the chill trickling down his spine confirmed that feeling. Danimore had already begun contemplating his responses concerning Zeta. Although, such preparation wasn’t truly necessary. Oxilon’s umbrage would be prevalent, regardless of his explanation. But on this, he would not be moved.

The cloud-covered sky was still grey with the threat of more storms. He skirted puddles on the cobbled streets, his horse clopping past the Kadul in the city’s center. Danimore paused, admiring the ornate marble pit. It had stood since Nazil’s beginning, and remained one of the most exquisite features of the city. He’d only witnessed the Kadul’s ceremonial fires once. The hickory smoke-filled air lingered about the city and his memory. Although he was aware of the solemn significance of the Kadul’s flames, its beauty was as no other.

Danimore turned, an approaching horse pulling him from his thoughts.

“Nakaris.” He smiled. “Good morrow to you. Has your duty ended?”

“It has. The night was long, my friend. The early cold is upon us. Yael should have eggs, crispy bacon, and warm bread prepared. Would you care to break your fast with us?”

“Many thanks, but I’ve broken my fast and need to meet my uncle.”

“Broken your fast? Not pottage again? You’re a high lord, Danimore, but still eat as one of the Lowers,” he chuckled. “Enjoy some comforts that come with your position.”

“I enjoy much, Nakaris. Pottage warms the body and fills the belly. My mother prepared it often, and that memory warms me as well.”

“Forgive my jest, Dani. I didn’t mean to offend, and I remember your sweet mother well.”

“She embraced you as her son, just as you are my brother,” Danimore said. “Don’t worry about my meals, I’ll be stopping by the market once my meeting is at an end. I’ll have a fine meal tonight.”

“Your cooking skills must be much improved. Last I knew muladorn stew, fish, and pottage were all you could manage.”

Danimore chuckled. “I won’t be doing the cooking. We have a new attendant, and she’ll prepare the meals.”

“Truly? I might just have to stop by some time. Now that the food will be edible, I can quit making excuses.” Nakaris laughed, turning his mount. “I’ll speak with you again, Dani, for now, my wife awaits.”

“Give her and your son my regards. I promise to visit soon.”

Nakaris raised up a hand, kicking his heels into his mount.

Of all those in Nazil, Danimore felt Nakaris his truest friend. Nakaris would look commanding to most. He stood tall and muscular like his uncle, and was just as imposing. But his heart was true, and Nakaris loved Danimore as a brother, as he in turn loved him.

He smiled, passing the bustling marketplace. Merchants called out, trying to make a sale, but his thoughts were elsewhere, speeding his way to the temple. The clopping sounds of hoof beats soon drowned out the clamor of the market. His rapid pace slowed, marveling at the exquisite edifice. It was the same each time he passed. The gods of Nazil looked fierce upon their plinths: War, Power, Courage, and Judgment, the epigraph beneath telling of each. “Honor Above All,” he said, moving beneath the archway where the same was engraved.

After leaving his horse with the handlers and being granted passage, Danimore inclined his head, stepping through the barred door past the sanctuary. As he continued down the corridor, Allister d’Garrion stepped out from his chamber. The elder scribe had an arm full of parchments as he made his way, peering over his spectacles.

“Greetings, Sir Benoist.” The man, still handsome despite his years, offered a warm smile.

“Greetings,” Danimore said, continuing his pace.

“Sir Benoist, a moment,” Allister called after him. “My daughter has requested that you join us for evening meal, and I promised to ask when next I saw you.”

Danimore smiled, knowing he meant well. Everyone in Nazil was aware that Nikolina favored Danimore for pledge, and he avoided Allister for just that reason. It wasn’t because Nikolina was unattractive: the opposite was true. Danimore had no interest in a wife; not yet. But he would honor Allister d’Garrion’s invitation. Allister was one of the few men in Nazil that Danimore truly respected.

“There’s much happening in the city of late, Sir d’Garrion. If it pleases you, I’d be honored to sup with you five suns hence. I’ll have duty until then.”

Allister’s smile broadened. “The honor will be ours, Sir Benoist. Nikolina will be pleased.”

“As will I,” Danimore said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with my uncle.”

“Oh, yes. Indeed, Sir Benoist. Thank you.”

Once Allister disappeared down the corridor, Danimore took a deep and steadying breath. Acknowledging the guards beside the doors, he fidgeted with his clothing and hair, waiting for them to finish announcing him.

“Uncle, Cha Reaglen,” Danimore said respectfully, entering the room.

Reaglen smiled, motioning for him to sit. “Please, will you take refreshment?”

“No, thank you, Cha. I’m quite satisfied.”

“Danimore,” Oxilon said. “I’ve just come from a meeting with the Zaxson, and we have much to discuss. Against my advice, he’s selected you to accompany Pentanimir upon his return.”

“Me? What would the Zaxson have of us, Uncle?”

“He needs a report of the wood at the foot of the Dessalonian Mountains.”

“What does the Zaxson wish to learn?”

“If the land is adequate, it’ll be home to the next Nazilian city. With protection from the mountains and the Raphar, it would make an excellent stronghold. Pentanimir will lead a party of four. Beilzen and Nakaris will accompany you.”

“Beilzen? That knave doesn’t have any experience with such matters. Pentanimir won’t even assign him to our patrols. Mayhaps Yannick, Velnic or Elodie would be a better choice.”

“I alone will decide who’s to accompany Pentanimir. Beilzen will serve my purpose well. He’s loyal to Nazil and to me.”

“Your nephew raises a valid point, Oxilon. Beilzen has taken no assignment away from the city. His skill as a tracker is lacking, as is his prowess. He didn’t even have enough strength to execute a full draw at the last tourney. We all know that you trust in young de Braose, yet no one else shares that confidence. Had you not elevated his position, he’d still be assisting Perrin with the temple’s finances. He may prove to slow or impede the project. Is it your final decision to send him on an assignment of this importance?”

“With all due respect, Cha, if Beilzen de Braose isn’t allowed the opportunity to gain experience, how do we expect him to improve his skills?” There was acid in Oxilon’s tone. “Besides, the Zaxson gave me the choice of who’s to serve. With the exception of Pentanimir and Danimore, the selection was mine. If I didn’t have need of Yannick, I would’ve chosen him.”

“As you say,” Reaglen shrugged, regarding Danimore. “There’s another matter we must discuss. The Zaxson mentioned the gift he bestowed upon your household. Usually, there’d be no question as to motive regarding such matters. However, your uncle has a great concern, and has brought that concern to my attention.”

Danimore peered at his uncle. His arms were folded across his broad chest, consternation on his face.

“Uncle, what’s your concern?” Danimore asked, feigning ignorance.

“You shame our home with this whore and ask of concern?”

“Whore? I don’t understand.”

“Just because you’ve never lain with a woman doesn’t mean you can’t understand the meaning of the word whore. Are you that daft?”

“I’m far from daft, and Zeta is no whore. Before our soldiers took her, she was maiden and pledged. After her capture she became pregnant, and the babe’s father is Nazilian. How do you name her a whore when rape is what caused her condition?”

Oxilon stood, slamming a hand down on the table. “How dare you speak with such insolence in this temple! Do you raise this whore above those of your own blood? She gave herself freely thinking it would save her from service. She’s filth, and everyone knows it. She’s swallowed the cock of every guard and slave in the citadel. Now, she serves in the home of one pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter! It’s outrageous, and I’ll not have it!”

“What say you of this, Danimore?” Reaglen asked, calmly.

“Lady Denotra, Lord Daracus, and the Zaxson himself were displeased with Zeta’s service,” Danimore said. “Pentanimir and I are but two. Zeta’s duties are significantly decreased, and I’ve aided the Zaxson’s family as well. When I came upon Zeta in the citadel, she’d been severely beaten. Accepting her as our attendant was a kindness, not only for Zeta, but more importantly, for our leader. She works well, and I’ve found no fault with her.”

Cha Reaglen shrugged. “Oxilon, I see no reason for the Cha to take possession of the girl. In her state, we couldn’t continue her use for even our purge. It’s true that she angered the Zaxson’s family and her discipline came swiftly and often. If Danimore is pleased with her service, there’s little that I can do.”

Oxilon’s face darkened. “What about the child? That abomination can’t be allowed to live.”

“Uncle, what’s to be gained by killing a babe? Are we such monsters now that we take the lives of innocents?”

“Innocents? It’s our way, or have you forgotten? Your blood is thin, indeed.”

“My blood is the same as yours, Uncle. I’m Nazilian and honor my heritage. That doesn’t include the killing of innocent children.”

“Innocent! Honor is above all. Had you been a Chosen, you’d understand that truth.”

“I don’t need to be a Chosen to understand honor or to be honorable. My father and brother both served as First Chosen’s and neither would murder a child…human or no,” he said, standing. “I serve my Zaxson and Nazil with honor, as all in my family have. What I won’t do is forswear my morality to satiate someone’s malignant proclivity. Our gods don’t demand such deaths, those commands come from the prejudices of the men claiming to serve them.”

Oxilon’s jaw clenched, shooting up from his seat.

“Cha Reaglen,” Danimore said. “If you’ve no further concerns, may I take leave?”

“No…no…Danimore,” Reaglen said, wide-eyed. “I’ve nothing more to say. You may take leave, and the girl will remain in your service.”

“Thank you.” He bowed, exiting the room, and ignoring his uncle.

Danimore’s frustration grew with every step. He was more upset with his behavior than that of his uncle. For a moment, he wanted to return and apologize, but thought better of it. That would make him appear weaker in Oxilon’s sight. He was finally standing his ground, and he didn’t want to sabotage such progress.

He attempted to push the meeting from his mind as he entered the market. Options were limited with the human merchants no longer allowed within the city. Still, he made his way, finding ingredients for the evening meal. Hurrying through the market, he purchased a chicken and some fish, along with potatoes, carrots, and onions. She could make a fine stew from these, I’m sure , Danimore thought.

“Thank you, Zeta. I’ll remove my boots while you sort the food.”

“Yes, milord. How—how was your meeting?”

“It’s Danimore, Zeta.” He reminded. “It was as all meetings with my uncle are: frustrating.” He drained his mug, taking a seat at the table. “I wanted a fine fare for tonight, but they didn’t have anything appetizing at the market. I purchased enough for a hearty stew and some fresh bread.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll get it started right away,” Zeta said, dropping the vegetables in a large bowl, pouring water over them. “I’ve already made the dough for bread. I was waiting for you to begin the meal. Would you like some cheese and fruit?”

“No, thank you. I need to fetch the water and fill the barrel. After which, I’ll clean out the storage room to make it more comfortable for you. I’m afraid that my brother and I don’t put much thought into cleaning. There are many rooms that can’t be used, especially on the upper levels.”

“I can clean the room and organize the others if it pleases you.”

“It’ll be easier for me, Zeta. We shouldn’t have ever allowed it to become so cluttered. Mithu kept the chamber pristine when it was hers. I’ll get the room ready for you soon. I’d like to have you comfortable and settled before my brother’s return.”

Danimore looked up, watching her peeling the potatoes. When her back turned, he went to his cloak, pulling a package out from under it.

“I thought that you could use a few things as well. If they’re not to your liking, we can exchange them for something else.”

Zeta looked up curiously, wiping the water off her hands. When Danimore slid the package closer, she paused, and then carefully released the twine. As the wrapping fell away, she gasped, taking a step back.

“Is everything all right, Zeta? I bought these for you. Don’t you like them?”

A hand raised over her mouth as she moved forward, admiring the beautiful purple, emerald, gold, and blue dresses. Her fingers trembled, caressing the embroidered silk on one collar.

“They are for me?” she said with warm tears streaking her cheeks.

“Yes, and I intend to purchase more as time allows. You’ll need a few other things, but this will do for now. There’s some ribbon and slippers, too. I don’t know anything about colors and such, but the seamstress said these were nice.”

“They—they are beautiful. They’re for me?”

“Zeta, you deserve much and more. We’ll take good care of you here, as you will do for us. Do you understand?”

She nodded more from confusion than understanding. She didn’t fear Danimore, but she didn’t trust him either. No one had given her anything without expecting much more in return. Now, she considered what price she’d be forced to pay for such gifts.

“You’re welcome. Your babe will continue to grow, and you’ll be in need of many things. For now, I’m going to clear your room,” he said, moving toward the corridor. When he heard the rustling paper, he turned, seeing Zeta holding the emerald dress against her body. That was the first time that her smile seemed genuine, and the warmth that brought to him could not be measured.

“Elder,” he said, his voice a pitch too high. “What did you say?”

Olam rested a hand on his shoulder, righting the stool. “It’s as I’ve said. Brahanu is pregnant with your son, Pentanimir. Her illness now is due to her pregnancy.”

“But—but Elder, how can this be? I didn’t mean—”

“How can this be?” Hosdaq interrupted. “Is this what you ask, son of Nazil? Didn’t you think about consequences when you took her abed? Consequences that will plague us all, if no remedy is found. You let your lust control your mind. Now we all must pay for errs committed by you alone.”

“Hosdaq! You speak out of turn,” Vot said.

“Your thoughts on this matter are well known,” Emet said. “It’s not for you to condemn or accuse. We’ve all made our choices and no one has condemned us for them. They were ours alone to make, just as you made your choice many years ago. Did anyone speak to you in such a manner?”

“No, I wasn’t condemned for my choices, nor am I condemning anyone else for theirs. But Pentanimir needs to know the harm that could come from this. He’s a Chosen of Nazil, nay, First Chosen. His uncle has arranged a pledge with the Zaxson’s daughter. This isn’t something that can be dismissed. Pentanimir must return to Nazil; the pledge mustn’t be broken or we could all suffer. This village is the one place we are free. Do you think it’ll remain that way if we’re discovered? That is folly! Your thoughts aren’t known to me, but I don’t want my children tortured and enslaved in Nazil. We’re all at risk if honor isn’t satisfied.”

Brahanu tossed the covers aside, struggling to rise. The voices of the Elders reverberated around her: thick with heat and rage. She saw them, heard them, but could not respond. She continued to walk, staring at the wooden door that led to her escape. Nothing was as it seemed, or so she prayed. Once she stepped on the other side, all things would be as they were.

“Brahanu, where are you going?” Olam asked.

She didn’t answer. Brahanu turned the small nob, allowing the sun’s rays to bathe the room.

“My lady, please don’t leave,” Emet said. “We’re usually not disagreeable, and I apologize for such a display.”

Brahanu’s face was bereft of emotion when she turned around to face them. “Elders, Pentanimir, there’s much to consider. Whatever decisions are made, I’ll make them in Cazaal. I won’t bring dishonor to myself or disrupt the peace that you’ve always known.” She paused, lowering a hand to her abdomen. “If I’m pregnant, this child will be mine alone. Pentanimir’s pledge was known to me before our son was conceived. Learning about this alters nothing. He’ll return to Nazil, and honor will be satisfied.” Her shaky voice cracked with each syllable.

“Elder Hosdaq, you love your people here and in Nazil. To you, I’m a danger to their welfare, and I understand that. Regardless of my love for Pentanimir, I’ll not raise it above the security of your home. You see my coming child as a complication, and me as a threat,” she sighed, forcing back her emotion. “No longer. I’m returning home as will Pentanimir.”

Hosdaq’s visage softened, remembering his own choices and his love for Esme. Though she had long passed, that love remained. Had he the choice to make again, it wouldn’t change. The love he held for his wife and children was greater than his love for Nazil.

Without another word, she left the shelter, closing the door behind her. Managing only a few steps, Brahanu’s knees weakened as she collapsed against the outer wall. Is it true? Have I committed such sin to condemn an innocent for my transgressions? God of mercy, help me.

Brahanu continued to weep, feeling Pentanimir’s strong hands on her arms. She drew him in a desperate embrace, burying her face in his chest. He said nothing, kissing the crown of her head, and rocking her in his arms. After many comforting moments, she merely loosened her hold, walking to the eternal fire. Pentanimir didn’t follow, he leaned against the outer wall, overcome by grief, love, and uncertainty. He accepted the gentle squeeze that Huname offered, before she moved off to join Brahanu.

“Brahanu, we’re here to help you,” Huname said. “Don’t think yourself alone.”

Vot nodded. “We can’t provide the answers for you, but we can assist in whatever decision you and Pentanimir make. Together, you’ll decide the future for yourselves and your child.”

“No,” Brahanu said, more forcefully than she intended. “This is a burden that I must bear. No one needs to know that Pentanimir is the father. His future was decided long before I was lost in Depero Wood. I won’t disrupt his life or endanger this village.”

“Once you’ve had time, mayhaps your thoughts will be different,” Huname said. “Speak with Pentanimir and learn of his heart and mind. This isn’t a decision for one, Brahanu.” She stood, taking Vot’s offered elbow. “If you have need of us, we’ll be in the temple.”

Brahanu merely nodded, seeing Pentanimir approaching. She wasn’t ready to face him, but she couldn’t ignore him, either. Regardless of anything else, this was his child. He had a right to voice his opinion, but she wouldn’t be moved, not on this. Allowing her heart to overrule her mind is what caused this to be. No longer. She loved Pentanimir, but their love was infinitesimal compared to the lives that would be lost or devastated by it.

“Brahanu,” he spoke softly, taking a seat beside her. “I don’t know your feelings; I can only tell you mine. Please, just listen before you respond. You’ve blamed yourself for our love and our child. But it isn’t blame, Brahanu, both are gifts from the gods. I’ve never wanted to marry Denotra, and our relationship has proved beyond doubt where my path should lead. I belong with you and our son. We belong together.”

“Pentanimir, I share in your feelings, but there’s more to consider. We were selfish in our passion and our love, allowing it to blind us from many truths. We can’t ignore what we both know is truth or abandon the paths and people in our lives.” She sighed, caressing his hands. “The last we were here, you reminded me of your obligations in not only Nazil, but also Bandari. I didn’t want to face those realities, but you were right. We both have to return to our homes and families. Our child will come, and he’ll know his father. But no one beyond this village needs to know that you’re his sire.

“Your pledge to Denotra can’t be cast aside. Know that I love you, and that will never change. It’s due to that love that I must return to Cazaal,” she said, standing and leaning down for a kiss.

Amani’s eyes closed, not wanting to answer the question. Ameya wouldn’t cease, and it only caused her trepidation to swell. After taking a deep breath, Amani turned, forcing the best smile that she could manage.

“Don’t worry, my little dove. They’ll return soon. Your father didn’t want to keep the men long, but he’ll complete a thorough search.”

“I’m afraid, Mother. What if they don’t come back, just like Brahanu. She was only supposed to be gone a short while. But she never returned.” Ameya raised up, wrapping her arms around her mother. “They should be back. What if something happened to them, too?”

Amani froze, hearing the door open. She held her daughter tighter, staring out into the corridor. When Hacom and Julaybeim entered the room, she felt both relieved and concerned. For a moment, she only stared at the disappointment on their faces, and then moved forward to embrace them.

Hacom sighed, leading her to the divan. After dropping his haversack on the floor, he took a seat beside her.

“The men made good time, and we covered a great distance. We ventured close to Dovak and Yarah, in hopes of finding some indication of her path. But with the storms, there was nothing left.”

“I don’t understand, Hacom. Surely, you’ll continue to search. We must find our daughter.”

“Once the men have rested, we’ll leave out again. For now, the sentries will continue to patrol, and the Neema Outpost is on alert. Julaybeim will organize some additional groups in the village to trek toward the Fire Lands. With the banditti in Depero, I’ll not risk the men.”

“What? There must be more. This is our daughter!”

“Before we left, Nohek Glennon sent birds to the human villages and city. Someone must’ve seen Brahanu. I’ve sent two riders to the outposts as well. She could be there seeking aid. Please, be patient and continue to pray. For now, I need a hot bath.”

Amani’s mouth gaped, watching Hacom leave the room.

“Mother, Father has the right of it,” Julaybeim said. “We must believe that Brahanu is well and returning to us soon. She is intelligent and resourceful, and I know in my heart that she’s coming home.”

“But the Nazilians! Besides the outposts, Cazaal is the only human village east of the Great Sword. You know what they’ll do to your sister if they find her. She’ll be their slave, tortured and rap—”

Julaybeim silenced her with an upraised hand. “Ameya, it’s time that you were off to bed.”

“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Can’t I stay up a while longer?”

He smiled, kissing the crown of her head. “You be a good little dove and go off to bed now. I’ll come to your room as soon as I finish speaking with mother, all right?”

“All right, Julaybeim.”

Julaybeim closed the door behind her, taking a seat next to Amani.

“I’m sorry, Mother, but you shouldn’t talk about such things in front of her. She’s afraid enough without learning what the true dangers are.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I—I can’t keep the visions from my mind. You know what they do to humans, Julaybeim. Your father must find Brahanu. Until she’s safely in Cazaal, I won’t be able to rest.”

“Don’t press him too hard. Father blames himself for allowing Brahanu to go into Depero alone. He constantly berates himself for something he couldn’t control. Of all of us, he’s seen what the Nazilians are capable of. Do you think those images don’t plague him every moment?”

Her expression saddened even more, wiping her tears away. “It’s easy to forget when you have spent so many years around his strength.”

“Husband, forgive me,” Amani said. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not doing everything to find Brahanu. Word might arrive on the morrow, and it’ll be cause for a celebration. We’ll have a great feast to welcome our daughter home. Would you like that?”

“It’ll be a grand celebration,” she said, moving to the platter on the table. “You should have something to eat, and I’ll have Nived prepare your bath.”

“I have no appetite for food. It would just sour in my stomach.”

“You need to keep up your strength, Hacom. Come, at least have some bread and honey wine. It’ll be easy on your stomach. Come, I’ll see to your bath.”

Once he began to eat, Amani kissed his cheek, and then left the room. She smiled, despite the swirl of thoughts and emotions engulfing her. She prayed for her daughter, but thanked the gods for her family.

“Almaz, have Nived ready the bath for Hacom. He’s eating now, but will be ready soon.”

“Is something the matter, Mother?” Julaybeim asked, as she sat at the table, watching him eat.

“I’m just thinking about you and Brahanu when you were babes. It seems but a moment ago that you were at my breast. Now, you’re both of age and will soon wed and have your own children.”

“Mother, Brahanu is the only one who’s promised. I won’t be marrying for some time.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Nesrine of late. She’s a sweet girl, Julaybeim, and a good match. Brahanu won’t be the only one with a promise.”

Julaybeim blushed, trying to suppress a smile. He and Nesrine had grown closer, but he wasn’t ready to let his parents know that. He glanced up at her then, his cheeks darkening all the more.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s past time that you started thinking about a wife. You’re a man grown, Julaybeim, six and ten now. How old is Nesrine?”

“She’s five and ten, but her name day will come before the next full moon.”

“I’m happy that you’ve found someone to share your heart. Don’t ever feel ashamed about sharing such love with another. It’s a great gift and one cherished for a lifetime.”

He only nodded as she rose to kiss him.

After tousling his thick curls, she smiled, returning to her husband.

“Hacom, your bath is nearly ready. Would you like me to assist?”

“No, thank you, I can manage.”

“Then, I’ll leave you to it, and see to Ameya.”

“As you say, Amani. Give her my love as well,” he said, lowering his head. “And keep Brahanu safe.”

Brahanu’s eyes widened as she pushed the temple’s door open. The beauty of the temple interior didn’t show from the outside. Carved and polished mahogany benches lined the walls with decorative sconces hanging above each. Scenes of great delicacy were skillfully etched about the magnificent edifice.

In the rear of the temple stood a raised platform and an exquisite polished wooden block. The words carved deep in the wood were unfamiliar, in a language she had never seen. There were two long narrow braziers, which went nearly the length of the room. Flames danced through the air as the warmth comforted her. She was so enthralled by the elegance of the temple that she didn’t notice the small group of people in the far corner of the room.

“Brahanu?” Elder Vot said. “We’re pleased that you’ve come. Join us.”

She smiled, walking the length of the room.

“You’ve met too few of us, Brahanu. Some introductions are in order,” Vot said, pointing. “I’m certain that you remember Nzuri. He’s a helding priest, and Elder Emet’s brother.”

“Yes. Thank you for all you’ve done,” Brahanu said. “I’m feeling much better.”

“It was my pleasure to serve, but I wasn’t the only one to aid you, my lady.”

Brahanu inclined her head, noticing his long, silvery-white hair. Other than that feature, she would’ve thought him human.

“To my left is Kuhani, Saifu, and Yonas,” Vot continued.

As she returned their greeting, her gaze rested on Kuhani. She’d never seen anyone like him in all the lands. Kuhani’s statuesque frame gave the appearance of a warrior, yet he donned the cassock of a priest. He was handsome, but it was more than that. His skin was as dark and smooth as onyx, but there were markings down his face and neck: symbols or etchings of some type. Her curiosity and admiration piqued, seeing the long braid that dangled over his shoulder. Besides that braid, he had no other hair on his face or head.

“Kuhani, Yonas, and Nzuri are temple servants,” Vot said, breaking her trance. “Here in Bandari, we have peoples from throughout the lands and beyond. Kuhani is the head of our temple, and the wisest most would say. Nzuri and Yonas are heldings, yet under his tutelage. In your village, the priests are referred to as Nohek. In Nazil, they’re known as Cha, and some name them Drah’kuu . Here, they prefer no specific title for their service. They are priests serving the One god.”

Brahanu nodded, looking back at Kuhani.

Brahanu glanced at Kuhani again. The priest seemed familiar, yet she couldn’t place him.

“Ye—yes, Elder Vot. I informed Pentanimir that I’ve decided to return home.”

“And what did he say,” Huname asked.

“He’d have it otherwise, but it’s of little matter. We both knew our obligations before we arrived in Bandari. If we would’ve considered such an outcome, mayhaps—”

“We don’t speak of things we couldn’t know or those we cannot change,” Yonas interjected. “It’s a torment to the mind, and weakens the soul. The One god is forgiving. He’ll guide you where you need to be, and protect you as you travel.”

“The One god? In Cazaal, we pray to the Seven.”

“The Seven or the One, they’re one and the same. Did you not know this?” Kuhani said, his accent foreign. “The One god is all, Brahanu. The Seven that you honor are all elements of the One. We recognize these elements which embody our god, yet we don’t separate them.” Kuhani smiled, his perfectly straight, white teeth standing in contrast to his striking, flawless complexion. His smile alone was significant: Kuhani rarely expressed emotion. “The One god will replenish your strength and guide you safely.”

“Yes,” Huname said. “If it’s truly your wish to travel, Aizen and Ahni will escort you on the morrow.”

“Aizen and Ahni?”

“They’re our sons. Once you’ve traveled to Noraa, the Great Sword will see you home.”

“I don’t have any coin for passage,” Brahanu said. “If they could escort me to Noraa, the Caretaker will receive me at the citadel, and I’ll send a message to my father.”

“Don’t worry about coin,” Huname said. “Pentanimir will provide what you need for lodging and passage.”

Brahanu’s visage saddened. She needed to see Pentanimir again, just as she realized that she needed more time before she could face Itai. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

Huname smiled, patting her knee. “It’s all right, Brahanu. Much has happened in little time. Mayhaps you should rest and Saifu will come to visit you soon.”

“Yes, Elder, thank you.”

“May I see you to the door, Brahanu?” Kuhani asked, extending out his arm.

She stared up at him for a moment and then nodded, taking his elbow.

“You don’t remember when we met, yet you feel as though you know me,” Kuhani said.

“I know only what you imparted to me, Brahanu. It’s difficult for one of the lands to comprehend, as the complexities of the mind often are. When I came to you, we communed together.”

“Communed? But we’ve just met.”

“No. When you lay abed, I was in your thoughts. My mind reached out to yours, merging our thoughts and remembrances. This is how you know me. Once you allowed our merge an unfettered path, I learned of your heart and your mind.”

“What?” She halted. “How is such a thing possible?”

“It’s possible because I haven’t allowed the physical to hinder the metaphysical. Where I’m from, this is a natural state, a way to interfuse with another. There’s more to learn, but it’s more easily felt than spoken.” He smiled again, closing his eyes.”

“Listen to my mind and ease your burdens,” he communicated extrasensorily. “Your struggle is known to me, Brahanu, and I share in your anguish. But I feel your love as well. Returning to Cazaal is difficult, yet it is necessary. You speak of Pentanimir’s obligation, but not about your own.”

Brahanu gasped, taking a step back. When he opened his eyes again, a palliative warmth cascaded through her entire body.

“Your obligation,” he repeated, aloud this time.

“My obligation? To Itai?”

“Yes. Everything happens for a purpose. It is time.”

“I don’t understand. Time for what?”

“As he always has. I conveyed much to you during our merge. You were conflicted, and I used my mind to comfort yours.”

“It—it was you. Those were your thoughts.”

“It was merely my influence of truths already known to you. Your love for Pentanimir is disparate from your love of Itai, yet you hold them equally within your heart. Do not ponder the reason as to why. Some answers take longer than others, but they do come. For now, you can delay no further. A hesitation in this, will cause an eternal heartache. Complete your bond,” Kuhani said firmly, releasing her arm and opening the temple door.

“What about Pentanimir?”

“He, too, awaits. But you must return to Cazaal. In time, all will be as it should. This isn’t the end, Brahanu. It’s only the beginning. You and Pentanimir were meant to share this love. Find comfort in that, and don’t allow guilt to keep you from him. Soon, you’ll be parted, and this moment would’ve been wasted. Don’t ignore the blessings that surround you.” With that, Kuhani lowered his brow to hers. “E’ronno ein’ r’amold wylaenah suok rohneeshe ein’ tr’rond.”

Brahanu’s eyes widened, leaning away from him. “Love is eternal when your heart is true,” she said, bemused. “How did I understand that?”

Kuhani bowed. “He waits.”

As the temple doors closed, she could only stare, repeating those words in her mind. When she considered Kuhani and the meaning that he’d imparted, she took a steadying breath, turning to look over the village.

Much of its beauty was masked by the moon’s light. But the greatest beauty was the people who lived here. Brahanu turned toward the Raphar, pulling her cloak tighter. She peered across the vast lake, seeing only dense trees. It was no wonder the village went unnoticed: with the bends in the lake and the surrounding foliage, it was an ideal location, and that was a comforting thought.

Finding a place at the water’s edge, she sat, enjoying the sun. The Raphar reminded her of sitting with Itai on Whisper Lake near her home. She smiled with that thought, leaning back on her elbows, tilting her head toward the heavens.

“Are you Brahanu?”

She squinted, raising a hand up to shield her eyes. “I’m Brahanu, and you are?”

“I’m Wosen Neufmarche, son of Hosdaq,” he said, taking a seat near her.

“Hosdaq? The Elder is your father?” She cocked her head, taking closer note of his features. “But you’re human, too.”

“Yes, my mother was human, but I follow my father’s path. Weren’t you told about me?”

“No. But I’ve met so few since I’ve been here. I didn’t see you in the hall.”

“Yes, Nzuri and Kuhani tended me with great care. I’ll be able to travel on the morrow.”

“The morrow? Why so soon?”

“I’ve enjoyed my time here, Wosen, but I must return to my family.”

He leaned closer. “Will Pentanimir escort you?”

“Pentanimir needs to return to Nazil.”

“Yes, but he spoke so fondly of you to me. Will you travel together through the wood?”

The hairs on the back of her neck raised as icy pricks coursed down her spine. “The—the Elders will decide the best road for me.”

“What about Pentanimir?”

“Beg pardon,” she said, standing and moving away. “Mayhaps you should ask Pentanimir about his travels. They’re unknown to me.”

“As you say.” He grinned.

Danimore tucked his blankets under his chin, shifting in his bed. The warmth of his bed was soothing after being at his post most of the night. When he inhaled, the sweet scent in the air caused him to smile. “Honey and jasmine,” he muttered in a sleep-filled haze, snuggling deeper underneath his covers.

“It’s the oils.” The voice was just as sweet.

His smile increased, enjoying the vivid dream, but when he felt an arm slide across his torso, his eyes blinked open.

“Zet—Zeta?” he said, still not truly awake.

“Yes,” she said, rising and allowing the covers to slide from her chest.

Danimore leapt from the bed, fumbling for a tunic to cover his nakedness. “Wha—what are you doing in my room?”

“I—I thought that you wanted me to.”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“The gifts…and…and…you’ve been so kind,” she said, her eyes lowering. “And you said that I was beautiful. I thought that it’s what you wanted, and I’m supposed to please you.”

She tightened the covers around her, moving further from him. “What about the gifts?”

He sighed again, staring into her large, emerald eyes. There was such innocence within them—an innocence that the Vereux tried to strip from her.

“I bought those things because you needed them and I thought they were pretty. You’ve done so much for us already, Zeta, and deserve much more.”

“Forgive me, milord. I don’t know any other way. The others, they would force and there was always pain. I’ve never known it to be any other way. I thought that with you I’d know how it should be. To become one with someone who’s gentle.”

He shook his head, smiling wistfully. “I don’t want this from you, Zeta. You’re more than the others have made you believe. I know it’s difficult to accept, but you owe me nothing. I’ve told you of your duties, and they don’t include pleasuring me. One day, you’ll know the love and pleasure of becoming one with another. But it won’t be with me. Do you understand?”

She nodded, looking into his eyes. “I did enjoy being close to you, milord,” she admitted to him, but more so, to herself. “It was a comfort that I haven’t known since being in Nazil.”

Danimore noticed the tremble in her voice, but the sincerity was more apparent. It would take time for her to trust him, and he understood that. But he didn’t wish to forfeit the progress that she’d made.

“I see no reason why we can’t share this bed. However, we’ll need tunics if we do,” he said, searching in his chest. He pulled out a garment and handed it to her. Once he turned, she slid from the bed, donning the tunic.

“That’s better.” Danimore smiled. “Now, I could use some warm honey milk. Would you care for some?”

“Only if you allow me to prepare it,” she said, rushing past him to the kitchen.

Danimore enjoyed watching her. He hadn’t realized how much he missed not only the sight, but also the sweet scent of a woman. Zeta was more like a little sister, and in the short time that they were together, he’d grown protective of her.

“This should warm you,” she said, setting the mug on the table.

“It’s very good.” He took another sip. “Very sweet.”

“My mother used to make it for me before bed, and she always used lots of honey and a dash of cinnamon.”

Danimore studied her face. Even with her healing wounds, her smooth, alabaster complexion gave the appearance of fine porcelain. She appeared so young…so vulnerable. She also has a family who loves her. Everyone we’ve taken had a life before being captured. Why doesn’t that matter? They love just as we do. To live in bondage after being free? Such a thought can’t be comprehended. There’s no right of it. Zeta was innocent and now she’s been corrupted by those who think themselves superior. How can she smile through all she has endured? She’s remarkable.

“Zeta, tell me about your home.”

“My home? My home is here. The girl I was is no more.”

“I wish that I could say that I understand, but understanding is impossible without experiencing the same myself. I’d remove such memories from you if it were in my power to do so.”

“Allowing me to serve your house is a blessing, milord.”

“I’ve removed you from immediate harm, yet you still serve. If there’s a way to return you to Noraa, I’ll see it done.”

“There’s nothing left for me at my father’s home. The grief of my capture would cause more pain than the joy of my return. I have nowhere but here, milord,” she said, lowering a hand to her womb. “I’ve lost my promised and myself.”

“You’re not lost, Zeta, I’m here with you. Whether you return to your family or no, I welcome you into my home as one who is free. If you want, I’ll find a way to send a message to your father. He needs to know you’re alive.”

“No, please, sir. I’d rather him think me dead than know the truth.”

“But he’s your father. Surely, he’d want you with him.”

“It would cause him greater pain to look at me than to mourn me. He knows what happens to captives…everyone knows. I won’t burden him with visions of the horrors I’ve suffered.”

That truth sickened him. He had seen for himself some of the suffering she’d endured.

“You need to think about your child as well.”

“I do think of it. Each time I feel it move within me, I think of what’s to come. I wonder why if my babe displeases them so, why they wouldn’t allow me the herbs to prevent it from growing.”

“No. The maiden’s tears is a vile broth. If the herbs aren’t combined accurately, it renders the womb void, or could take the life of both mother and child.” For the first time, she didn’t flinch or recoil when he touched her hand. “Let us speak no more of it this night. I wish to enjoy your delicious honey milk and talk of more pleasant things.”

“You—you said there was another who lived here?”

“Pentanimir, yes. He should be returning soon. Pentanimir is our First Chosen and pledged to Lady Denotra.”

“He’s the one pledged? He—he wouldn’t want me to serve your home. Lady…Lady Denotra…I couldn’t please her, milord.”

“You needn’t worry about that. My brother is pledged to Lady Denotra, but he doesn’t behave as such. Pentanimir and I are much the same, though some think it otherwise. He’ll be pleased with your placement, as am I. Have you ever wondered why we don’t have any other attendants?”

“I did, milord. In Noraa, a home like this would have more than two dozen workers.”

“My brother and I didn’t wish it. Years past, there were a dozen who served our household. The last, Mithu, died three seasons ago. We didn’t want to obtain any others unless they chose to come. There’s a couple who helps in the stable and with wash, but they’re well compensated. We refuse to purchase attendants. There are plenty of Nazilians that earn extra coin by helping in homes like ours.”

“But you accepted me.”

“I couldn’t leave you with them, Zeta. When I was asked to select an attendant, I selected you. Do you remember when first we met?”

“It was here. I was abed and healing.”

“No. It was outside Denotra’s chamber. I carried you to Hushar for aid.”

“That was you?” she breathed. She stared at him then, recalling that day in the citadel. As the images returned to her mind, tears welled in her eyes.

“After seeing how they treated you, I wouldn’t leave you there.”

“I didn’t know. Hushar told me that it was one of Nazil, but she never spoke your name. She said that you were asking about my treatment.”

“She feared answering me honestly, but your bruises and scars were telling enough. When Draizeyn and Daracus spoke of their plan for you. I couldn’t—” Danimore left his words there, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and my brother will be pleased. Now, if your babe is satisfied, mayhaps we should try to get some rest.”

After returning to his room, Danimore gestured to his bed while he poked at the fire. Slowly, he slid beneath the blanket, laying on the far edge. Although he attempted to keep distance between them, Zeta edged closer, draping an arm over his chest.

“Thank you, Dan—Danimore.”

He craned around to face her. “For what do you give thanks?”

“For everything you’ve done. You’ve given me a new home and a new hope.”

“It’s you who’s given me hope, Zeta. Hope and purpose.”

Pentanimir clasped Nurul’s hand as Wosen was approaching with a wineskin. He slowed his pace, taking long drinks as their conversation continued. When Nurul moved off, Pentanimir turned, enjoying the peace of Bandari. He was preparing to return to Nazil and leave Brahanu behind, and his heart ached at the thought.

“Pentanimir, my friend, how are you?” Wosen asked, staggering toward him.

“I’m fine, Wosen, it’s good to see you again.”

“You’ve barely had time to talk this visit, and I wanted to spar.”

“Apologies. A lot has happened, but I promise that we’ll spar when next I come.”

Wosen crossed his arms over his chest, stumbling forward. “But there’s no guarantee when that’ll be. What’s kept you so busy, is it the visitor you brought with you?”

“Only partially. Her illness was quite unexpected, but she’s feeling better now.” Pentanimir’s brow creased, observing Wosen’s wobbly stance and slurred speech.

“Yes, I’ve seen the human, Brahanu. She’s a handsome female, isn’t she?”

“The human? What makes you say that?”

“That’s of no matter here, Wosen, Brahanu will serve.”

“As you say.” Wosen frowned, shaking the empty skin. “Come, share a mug with me. Father keeps some strong red in the hall.”

Pentanimir paused for a moment, scrutinizing him closely. As they walked in the hall, he pondered not only Wosen’s behavior, but also his sentiments. There were only a few people sitting at the tables, drinking and chatting as they passed. Pentanimir acknowledged them quickly, following Wosen to the Elder’s table. After disappearing behind a half wall, Wosen returned with a ewer, filling mugs to the brim.

“A toast, Pentanimir, to Nazil and its Chosen.”

Pentanimir reluctantly met his mug, glancing around apprehensively. A toast to Nazil? Where’s his mind? “You toast Nazil, my friend? What about Bandari, your father, or the Elders. Shall we make a toast to them as well?”

Wosen drained his mug and refilled it. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he ignored the question, asking one of his own. “I’ve heard that the huma—I mean Brahanu is special to you. Is that so?”

“Special? What do you truly want to know, Wosen? I’ve no special feelings for anyone in the village. I care for everyone here, but there’s nothing else.”

“As you say, but Brahanu isn’t of this village, is she?” Wosen smirked, taking another drink.

“You speak true. Although Brahanu isn’t from Bandari, she’s here now.”

“This is good, my friend. No matter how fair, she’s not suitable for the First Chosen of Nazil. Father has told me much about the honor of the Chosen Guard. Honor above all!” he said, slamming his mug down on the table.

The people in the hall regarded them peculiarly and then left as Wosen continued.

“Mayhaps you’ve had enough, Pentanimir said, sliding the ewer from his reach. “The wine is strong. Hosdaq made a good purchase.”

“I’ll have my fill,” he said, grabbing the ewer, and drinking directly from it.

“Do as you please, Wosen, you’re a man grown.”

“Aye, six and ten now. But what does that matter here? All we do is raise pigs, bake bread, and release nets. We don’t have any warriors or honor. We sit idle and grow fat, and at the first whisper of trouble, we run. I want to return to Nazil with you. I’ve envisioned the white gates of the city, the Kadul , the rituals, and honor. I must return with you, Pentanimir: two brothers walking through the gates of the great city together. It’ll be grand!”

Pentanimir attempted to keep his expression from betraying his thoughts. As long as the Vereuxs rule, you’ll never be allowed in the city, not freely. Doesn’t he know what fate would await him? Has Hosdaq told him nothing? Gods, he’s lost.

“Wosen, nothing would please me more than to walk at your side as we entered the white gates, but now isn’t the time. I’ve a pledge to answer and pressing business to attend to. Besides, aren’t you supposed to request your own promise?” He smiled. “Hibret is nearly six and ten now. You could be wed by next season,” Pentanimir said, standing and resting a hand on his shoulder. He hoped that mentioning Hibret would help sober Wosen’s mind. His life was here, not Nazil. “One day soon we’ll walk through the gates as brothers.”

Wosen held the ewer in the air, and then drained it. “One day soon, Pentanimir, one day soon.”

With a resonate clang, the wooden door swung open, contacting the wall. Hosdaq hurried toward them, his face contorted with fury.

“Wosen! What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, lifting the empty ewer from the table. Wosen looked up, sniggering before his head lolled, and dropped back down on the table.

“Apologies, Elder,” Pentanimir said. “He wanted to share a drink before I took leave, and I couldn’t refuse him. He kept speaking about Nazil and became agitated when I tried to keep the drink from him.”

“Nazil? What did he say about Nazil?”

“Elder, why haven’t you told him? He wants to return with me. I thought you would’ve dealt with this by now.”

Hosdaq peered at his son passed out on the table and then back at Pentanimir. Seizing his arm, he led him back toward the entry. “What did you tell him about Nazil?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Pentanimir said, snatching away. “That’s not my place, Elder, but it is yours. Wosen can’t ever enter Nazil. You know that he’d be tortured and killed if Draizeyn is feeling generous. Otherwise, he’d be a slave.”

“Do you think that I don’t know this?” Hosdaq’s voice raised, both ire and agony splayed across his face. “I was a Chosen of Nazil before you were even born, Pentanimir. Wosen is my son, my heir. I would be proud to walk through the gates with him. But it cannot be…it can never be! I want to show him the home of his ancestors, our home, the Kadul , all of Nazil. The anguish I feel at denying him can’t be expressed. Do you understand, First Chosen?”

Wosen jerked, the raised voices rousing him from his stupor. Lifting his head, he struggled to make out the blurred images in the distance.

“Well, you’ll have your chance. When Brahanu births your son, you’ll understand much and more,” Hosdaq said, spinning on his heels and returning to his son.

Pentanimir pushed through the door, only taking a few steps before sitting on a bench. Hosdaq’s harsh words and tone assaulted his mind. Does he regret leaving Nazil and coming here? Now that Wosen’s a man grown, does he wish that he’d made another choice? Could it be the sudden loss of Esme that has turned his heart so cold? Is this why he pushes so strongly against my love for Brahanu. Brahanu, our son, my son. He, too, will never see the gates of our city. He’ll never see the home of his family. I do understand, Hosdaq. I understand more than you know, he thought, clenching his eyes shut.

“Are you all right,” Vot asked. “You look troubled.”

“Hosdaq has caused me to consider much. He blames himself for denying Wosen his heritage. Wosen wants to visit Nazil and join the guard, and Hosdaq won’t speak plainly. He’s warned the same will be true for my son.” He paused, meeting Vot’s eyes. “He has the right of it, Elder. I’ve never seen Wosen this way. I fear that he might attempt to visit Nazil on his own if something isn’t done. Wosen doesn’t understand what would happen to him. He can never come to Nazil. I worry for him and for my son. Will he also turn from what he knows to seek what’s unknown?”

“Pentanimir, many things can happen between now and never,” Vot said. “We’ve known about Wosen’s desires. Hosdaq spoke much about his youth and the greatness of the city. Albeit, he’s refused to tell him what would happen if he returned to them now. Wosen knows why we’re here and what happened in Hyorin. He chooses to believe his own truths and blames his humanity for keeping him from his aspirations. He’s grown weary of life here and thinks us nothing more than cowards.”

Pentanimir’s mouth gaped.

“Oh, yes, this isn’t the first I’ve heard of Wosen. We’ve urged Hosdaq to tell him the complete truth. It wasn’t long ago that Wosen’s heart was only on his promise to Hibret. Now, the thought of Nazil consumes him.”

“What are you going to do? He was drunk when he came to me and still wanted more. He acts as if the humans are beneath him and talked about Brahanu.”

“Brahanu? What did he say?”

“Only what everyone knows. I didn’t elaborate, but he was asking questions.”

“Hosdaq must take care how he speaks. What Olam revealed can’t be shared with anyone.”

“He mentioned my son in the hall. Wosen’s drunk and wasn’t close, but Hosdaq mentioned my son in front of him.”

Vot shook his head. “I’ll speak with Hosdaq. I know that you’re readying to leave, and I’ll not hinder you. Leave this village with the same peace you felt upon your arrival. Hosdaq’s anger wasn’t meant for you; it was for himself. You stand as he did many years past: both Chosens of Nazil, both in love with a human. You remind him of the choice that he made. This is why he pushes for you to return to Nazil. He wants you to do what he didn’t, what he couldn’t. If he’d truly open his eyes, he’d realize there’s one here who could help him understand your heart as he once did his own.”

“You must take leave soon to reach the falls before the moon’s rise. Travel safely, my son.”

He didn’t move after Vot departed. He sifted through the conflicting thoughts in his mind, trying to muster the will to do what he knew was right, while forsaking what he knew that he wanted. Pentanimir longed to see Brahanu, but he didn’t know if it would make his leaving more difficult. When he finally stood, he headed toward the stable. It was time for him to return to Nazil. Time to return to a much disparate life, more complex and filled with ambiguities…the life of a First Chosen.

His gaze lowered, his usual commanding posture was lost in the melancholy of his heart and mind. Normally, he focused forward, always ready to perceive any threat, to notice what others would dismiss. Not this day. Pentanimir’s heart wasn’t that of an elite guard of Nazil; it was of a man in love—a man with obligations—a man tortured by a feeling of helplessness.

Taking a steadying breath, he looked up, immediately halting.

“Brah—Brahanu,” he breathed, enfolding her into his arms. “I didn’t think that I’d see you before I left.”

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye. Thank you for the coin, I’ll be leaving on the morrow.”

“I promised to keep you safe, Brahanu. I only wish that I could escort you to Cazaal.”

“We both know that it’s not possible. Aizen and Ahni will escort me.”

“I know, but that doesn’t remove the desire from my heart,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “The twins will keep you safe.”

“It’s a strange thing. We’ve only known each other a short time, yet it seems like a lifetime.”

“I feel it, too, Brahanu. The feelings that you’ve awakened in me can’t be described. This can’t be the last time that I see you.”

“It’s a feeling that we share.” She drew him down to her, tasting of him again.

“Brahanu, please promise me that you’ll return. Just send a bird with my name and a number of suns until you arrive. I’ll know that it’s you, and will meet you here. Promise me, Brahanu.”

Danimore squinted, waving away the leaves whipping around in the chilling breeze. Save the wind’s howl, the city was virtually quiet as he crossed the usually crowded square. He pulled his cloak tighter, shielding himself from the bitter bite of the wind. Winter will be upon us soon. The cold arrives early , he thought, quickening his pace.

“Danimore!” The stern voice halted him. He turned, seeing Oxilon approaching. Even at this distance, his posture and stalwart physique commanded respect. Oxilon’s right hand was pressed firmly against his chest, never abandoning the form he held for years as a Chosen; each step appeared a march.

“Evening, Uncle, what would you have of me?”

“What would I have of you?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t insult me with trivialities. Beilzen was summoned to appear before the council. How does he know more about your brother’s leave than you?”

“Beilzen knows little and less, I assure. Pentanimir sent a bird from Mahlum, and should be arriving by the morrow. Mayhaps—”

“Mayhaps,” Oxilon snapped. “I’m not interested in speculation nor do I need to hear about information I’ve already read. Beilzen said that Pentanimir exited through an unmanned gate with two horses and provisions. The way he spoke, it appeared more dubious than merely checking storm damage. Is there truth to this?” he asked, raising a gloved hand, and pointing a finger at his face. “Choose your words wisely, Nephew, and speak only truth, not speculation.”

“Uncle,” he said, swallowing hard. “What I’m considering is Beilzen’s motive for addressing the council, not Pentanimir’s leave. As I reported to the Zaxson, he’s checking the traps as well. It isn’t suspect to take more than one horse. When I’ve traveled with him to clear the traps, we sometimes bring a cart. We don’t know how much or what prey we’ll need to transport. Mayhaps if Beilzen ever completed such tasks, he’d understand Pentanimir’s need for two mounts,” he said, praying his visage exuded more confidence than he felt.

“Pentanimir honors his position of First Chosen and protects Nazil. Before he took leave, we spoke about his coming pledge and the honor he felt with his selection. Pentanimir loves Nazil above anything else, this you know. Beilzen needs to direct his attentions elsewhere before his jealousness over Denotra causes the Zaxson to turn his full attention on to him.” Danimore finished, tautening his stance to match Oxilon’s.

Oxilon stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “At least one of my brother’s sons isn’t without honor. Beilzen’s desire to rise might’ve caused him to error. Had Daracus not heard the whispers of the guards, he wouldn’t have summoned Beilzen to appear before the council. I’ll speak with him soon and remind him of his place, and his purpose.” He turned, drawing up his cowl. “When Pentanimir returns, send him to me immediately.”

Danimore watched him move away, his figure outlined by the brazier in the city’s center. Once Oxilon moved beneath the temple’s arch, Danimore retrieved his horse, heading to his home.

“I’m a son of Manifir as well,” he whispered, kicking his heels into his mount. “Father loved us equally, regardless of your attempts to make it otherwise. I’m worthy of the name I carry, Oxilon, more so than even you.”

With a crash of thunder, pelting rain began to fall. Danimore pulled up the cowl, speeding his horse along the cobbled streets. The moon had nearly disappeared after he stowed his horse, shaking water from his cloak before entering the rear door. For a moment, he leaned against the wall, sorting through both recent and past events. He loved his brother, but he didn’t want to remain in Nazil.

Hanging his cloak and belt, he attempted to move quietly, not wanting to wake Zeta. But as he turned down the corridor, the smell of food halted him. He inhaled again, knowing Zeta would be abed. Slipping his dagger from his boot, he crept toward the kitchen, easing around the corner.

“Do you plan on stabbing me, Brother, or would you rather join me for a meal?” Pentanimir said.

Danimore’s smile took in his entire face and he rushed forward, gripping Pentanimir in a tight hug.

“Pentanimir! You’ve returned! It’s good to see you.”

Pentanimir laughed. “Are you surprised? I told you of my return. Sit, Brother, sit. I brought some wine from Mahlum. It’s their deep red that you go on about, is it not?”

Danimore turned up the jug, taking a deep swallow. With widening eyes, he coughed, grasping his chest.

“Ahhh…now that’s a drink of men!” Danimore chuckled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Indeed. It’ll go well with some crispy duck and potatoes,” Pentanimir said, pulling pieces of duck from the spit. “Eat, Dani, I know your shift was long and cold. Tell me about what happened while I was gone.” He paused, his brow raising. “Begin with Zeta.”

“There’s much to tell,” Danimore said. “As for Zeta, the Zaxson gifted her to us at Denotra’s behest. I’ll tell you why I selected her soon, but she works well.”

“I met her earlier,” he grinned. “I don’t know about her work, but she certainly thinks highly of you.”

“You’ll understand more when I tell you how we met. I hope that you didn’t frighten her.”

“Much the opposite, I assure. I didn’t know that you were hiring an attendant, and this one, heavy with child.”

“Once you learn the why of it, you’ll understand. But there’s other pressing news regarding Uncle. It appears that his little bird has been whispering in the council’s ear concerning your loyalties.”

“That caitiff dares to speak my name from his lips? Why would the council listen to anything he says?”

“Apparently, Beilzen noticed you leaving, and spoke the same to some guards. When Daracus caught wind of it, he questioned Beilzen. The way he spoke made it seem more a desertion than a duty.”

Pentanimir sprang to his feet, pounding a fist on the table. “Deserter? I’m no caitiff! If he doubts my heart or my prowess, mayhaps a demonstration in the practice yard would sober his mind. I’ll cut that false tongue from his mouth!”

Danimore jerked back. Pentanimir was never quick to anger, and always remained composed. Something had changed.

“Brother, be calm. Beilzen isn’t worth your thoughts. He’s always been envious of your status and the pledge as well. He sniffs behind Denotra, doing whatever she commands in hopes of gaining a better standing. Beilzen’s false tongue will serve him ill. Let the mischief of his lips cover him.”

“I’ll not be labeled a deserter, especially by some craven dalcop. Did the council believe him?”

“That’s doubtful. From what Uncle said, they summoned him due to rumors and wanted to quell such talk. Uncle did question your leave of the city, however. Even after I told them what you said, they didn’t stop questioning until your message arrived. We both know that Beilzen is well practiced at deceit. The fact that his whispers were even taken seriously gives me pause. I fear that some councilmembers might become more interested in your travels.”

Pentanimir nodded, retaking his seat. “You speak true. My trip was unannounced and sudden. Uncle has the right to question. Still, to even give that fool’s statements a interested ear is an insult. Beilzen has no honor.”

“No, he doesn’t. Nonetheless, Uncle requests to see you immediately.”

“Requests? From what you say, it appears more a demand.” He shrugged, finishing his duck. “It’s of no matter, he won’t be seeing me until the morrow. The road was far too long. All I want now is good food, good drink, the company of my brother, and the comfort of my bed.”

“Uncle isn’t one to keep in wait. His temper rivals Draizeyn’s for such slights.”

“He’s our uncle, not our father. I’m not slighting him, but his dealings with Beilzen is a slight toward us. He’ll wait until the morrow. Surely, he’s received word from the guard. There was boar in the traps and I delivered them for preservation. I also acquired the Cha Asham’s favorite vice, and he was extremely pleased at receiving it. If Uncle’s need is urgent, he can come here to see me. For now, my bed awaits.”

Pentanimir moved toward his chamber as Danimore regarded him, still wondering why he left Nazil. He wanted to pose the question, but wasn’t certain how to proceed. Pentanimir’s mood had already soured, and he didn’t want to exacerbate that. Danimore wiped his mouth, and then followed behind him, taking a seat on his bed. As he turned up the jug, he observed Pentanimir washing in the basin.

He admired Pentanimir’s nakedness, wondering why the gods bestowed all the blessings upon him. Pentanimir was tall, lean, and muscular. His thick, silvery-white hair hung past his broad shoulders, cascading down to his tapered waist. His face was chiseled and handsome, and he had a perfect smile; unlike Danimore’s crooked lower teeth. Not only was his appearance nearly perfect, Pentanimir’s prowess couldn’t be matched.

His gaze lowered and he sighed. Even Pentanimir’s manhood rivaled his. Danimore turned up the jug again.

“Dani, where’s your mind?” Pentanimir asked, turning to face him.

“You look deep in thought. I’m asking about those thoughts. Mayhaps a little too much wine, eh?” He said, pulling on his sleeping tunic.

“Dani, what’s wrong? Is there more you need to tell me?”

“No, it—what…I—I mean to say that my thoughts are of a different concern.”

“Tell me of this concern. Mayhaps together, we can see it to an end.”

“What? What’s this new-found concern of yours?”

“You’re the elder brother and First Chosen. It’s not you that I’m questioning, it’s your recent actions. You asked me to trust you, and I do. It’s just that you’ve never kept secrets from me. What caused you to leave Nazil in such haste?”

“It’s not a question of trust, Dani. I didn’t tell you because I wouldn’t involve you in such matters. In time, mayhaps, this may change. For now, it’s best to keep my travels to myself. There’s no cause to worry,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no danger to Nazil or to us. I meet many people, and some are more meaningful than others.” He sighed. “I’ll tell you this: my heart is no longer mine to command.”

“Not yours to command? You’re pledged to Denotra. You don’t mean to refuse the honor? Please, that would be folly.”

“I haven’t forgotten the pledge. ‘Honor Above All’ is the life of the Chosen, is it not? I’ll honor my obligations to Nazil and this house. The pledge and honor will be satisfied.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you wouldn’t honor your obligations. I mean, I know that you and Yannick visit the pleasure houses often, but I didn’t know about a relationship. In times past, your intimacies were more for a needed release rather than any true gratification. Your duty has always been the most important.”

“My duty is still important, Dani, and I mean to see it done. My heart needn’t be in a pledge to see it through. I’ll service Denotra as I would any other. Her desires will be met and my release achieved. This joining is for Nazil’s strength, nothing more.”

“I disagree. No matter how vile Denotra is, she’s always desired you for her pledged. She truly wants this marriage, even if you don’t.”

With a frustrated growl, Pentanimir picked up the basin, hurling it at the wall. Danimore ducked as the shards came flying across the room.

“Forgive me,” Danimore apologized. “It’s not my place to question. You’ve only just returned and I’ve angered you. Rest now, and I won’t grieve you further.”

Pentanimir didn’t turn as his brother left his chamber. He couldn’t decide whether he was angry at Danimore or himself. Interlocking his fingers behind his head, he stared up toward the ceiling. The myriad thoughts and emotions assailed every part of him. His skin felt aflame as his faced contorted with confusion, despondency, and trepidation. He wasn’t angry at Danimore, he was angry with himself, what he permitted, and what he couldn’t control.

With a plaintive sigh, he went to Danimore’s chamber.

“Dani—I—it—” He took a deep breath, sitting next to him. “Please, forgive me. I’m grateful for your words and your concern. You didn’t anger me. It’s my own lack of control that caused the outburst. Before I left Nazil, I was aware of what duties lie ahead of me. I’m not turning from that now, regardless of what lies in my heart. Never feel that speaking truth is a transgression. Without you, Dani, I would be nothing. Together, we’ll continue to honor our father, and with each elevation I achieve, you’ll rise at my side.”

Brahanu adjusted her cowl as they passed beneath the towering trees. They’d been riding for several turns of the glass, and nothing appeared familiar. The brothers did their best to calm her thoughts, and she appreciated their willingness to escort her home. She’d miss the Bandarians, well, except for the Neufmarches.

“Don’t worry, Brahanu,” Ahni said. “We’re nearly there. Once we reach the clearing, the Raphar is shallow enough to ford.”

Brahanu turned, looking in his direction. It had taken a while, but she was finally able to tell the twins apart. She’d never seen two people who were nearly identical. Both brother’s hair was shorn to their scalp, they had round, dark brown eyes, and a swarthy complexion. Even their height and brawny build was comparable. If not for Ahni’s thin mustache, she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. She wondered if he’d grown it for that purpose.

“What path will we take from there?” Brahanu asked.

“We’ll travel along the river’s edge until we clear Mahlum. Aizen will continue with you to the port while I send your message from Noraa.”

“You’re not coming with us, Ahni?”

“No, Aizen has traveled the Great Sword many times. I’ll await his return in Noraa. We have other business to attend to.”

Brahanu nodded, glancing at the brothers from the corner of her eye. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask what you will,” Ahni said. “We’ve had little time to learn about each other.”

“Do you think that we’ll cross paths with Pentanimir?”

“I doubt it,” Aizen said. “Pentanimir is trekking through Mahlum as we avoid it. Unlike Noraa, its inhabitants are all Nazilian.”

“But doesn’t Nazil have a presence in all the villages and cities?”

“They do,” Aizen said. “However, Noraa is the only city the humans inhabit. Cazaal and Kaleo are merely villages, and pale in comparison to Noraa’s size and influence. The Caretakers send birds to Nazil and collect taxes and supplies for them as well. Though human, many serve Nazil. Mostly, they attempt to gain the Zaxson’s favor.”

“Do you think about all the Caretakers that way?” Brahanu asked. “My father is a Caretaker, yet despises Nazil and its Zaxson.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Aizen apologized. “I was truly speaking of Noraa and Kaleo. We haven’t traveled to Cazaal. Rarely do we cross the Great Sword. I shouldn’t have spoken so broadly on the subject. Some Caretakers do turn their backs on the humans: serving their purse over their people.”

“You speak true,” Ahni agreed. “But it’s folly. The Nazilians use them until the need is no more. After which, it’s as if they never existed, disappearing from both sight and mind.”

Brahanu was bemused. “Disappear? What becomes of them?”

Aizen shrugged. “No one knows with certainty. Some say they’re taken to serve in Nazil. Others think they’re killed. Unless you’re Nazilian, it can’t truly be known.”

“Put to death? That makes little sense. If one is serving them, why not reward that service?”

“The ways of the Nazilians aren’t known to you?” Aizen asked. “It’s fortunate that their hand has yet to reach your village. Some aren’t as fortunate as those in Cazaal.”

“We send a quarterly mulct, crops, and wares to Nazil. If we didn’t, they would’ve come long ago.”

“Brahanu,” Ahni sighed. “You only know Pentanimir. You mustn’t think of him as their Zaxson and ruling council. Even though they use Caretakers and informants, they despise what they do.”

“I don’t understand. If they’re using them, how then can they also despise them?”

“It’s a simple thing,” Aizen said. “The information the Caretakers and informants provide is useful. However, the Nazilians see these humans as betrayers of their people. Therefore, they are honorless and deserve death.”

“If this is so, what about Pentanimir? If he’s discovered, what will happen to him?”

“It’s best not to speak of it,” Aizen said. “His fate would be worse than that of the humans. Pentanimir is First Chosen. Only the Zaxson, Nakshij, and High Advisor rank higher. The betrayal of such a prominent denizen would have dire consequences. He isn’t only important to Nazil’s hierarchy, but he’s also pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter.”

“Aizen has the right of it. It would be best to leave Pentanimir to his life, Brahanu. Love obscures dangers easily seen by unfettered eyes.”

Brahanu shifted in her saddle, regarding them closely. “Ahni, you speak of my heart, but is it truly known to you?”

“I don’t intend to offend,” Ahni said. “I only know what was shared with us. You and Pentanimir care for each other, yet forwent those feelings for a greater good. We’re grateful for such sacrifices and hope that both of you can find happiness. Pentanimir is like a brother to Aizen and me. We don’t want to lose him.”

“You know about his pledge?”

“We’ve known for some time. Hosdaq won’t let anyone forget it. Regardless of his behavior, he’s right. Hosdaq is aware of Nazil’s inner workings and politics. The Elder is wise.”

“Indeed, if only Wosen were as wise as his father,” Aizen said.

“Hosdaq will deal with Wosen in time, Brother.”

Brahanu perked up, recalling Wosen’s odd demeanor and questions. “May I ask you about Wosen?”

“I didn’t know that you’d met him,” Ahni said.

“I met him briefly before taking leave, and he asked some peculiar questions.”

“Questions?” Aizen asked, tossing a glance at his brother. “What did he ask you?”

“He asked about my travels and who was escorting me. He also asked about my feelings for Pentanimir.”

“Did he ask anything specific?” Aizen said.

“Not truly. He kept repeating answered questions. Oh, yes, he also wanted to know where Pentanimir was traveling. I told him to ask of it himself, but he appeared annoyed by that response. Is there cause for concern, Aizen?”

“With such questions, there’s always a concern. Wosen has been acting strange of late. Even his father can’t discern his mood.”

“Speak plainly,” Ahni interjected. “We barely recognize him anymore. He keeps referring to himself as, ‘one of Nazil’. Ofttimes he disappears for several suns without an explanation. Hosdaq says he’s hunting, but that’s doubtful. He’s become distant to not only us, but to his promised as well.”

“All he talks about is Pentanimir and the Chosen,” Aizen said. “Mayhaps he feels that he can become one someday.”

“But that’s impossible. Wouldn’t he be captured or killed if he went to Nazil?”

“Yes,” Aizen said. “The Elders have urged Hosdaq to tell him the complete truth, although it pains him to do so. Hosdaq is loyal to the village, but he longs for his true home. Mother feels that he laments his decision to leave Nazil and marry Esme.”

“I don’t think he regrets his marriage, Aizen, I feel his regret stems from losing Esme so soon. Father says Elder Hosdaq has grown bitter over the years.”

Aizen nodded. “If he’d open his eyes, Osmara would fill that space that sits empty.” He shook his head. “I fear this struggle with Wosen is taking its toll.”

“We’re here,” Aizen said, pointing. “Look over there to the Nazil Bridge. That’s Mahlum. Most of Nazil’s food is grown there and on the surrounding farms. That’s where Pentanimir traveled before crossing the Great Sword. Those twinkling lights are outposts and guard towers. You can’t see it from here, but the port lies just beyond, to the south. After we cross here, we’ll continue along the tree line. When we’ve passed the sight of Mahlum’s towers, we’ll head toward the port.”

“But won’t we be heading back the way we came, Aizen?” Brahanu asked.

“It can’t be helped. If you wish, we can rest here and eat. It won’t take long after we cross to reach the port. There’re a few inns there and we’ll have a meal and rest. The Spicy Lass will arrive on the morrow, and she’ll take us to Cazaal.”

“I’m thirsty, but my stomach is somewhat disagreeable.”

Ahni slid down from his mount, reaching into his saddlebag. “You’ll need to drink this. It should ease your stomach and might return your appetite, too.”

“What is it?” She coughed, her face scrunching with revulsion.

Ahni chuckled. “It’s primarily imphepho, boiled ginger root, and mango. Mayhaps the deep red and herbs he added didn’t mix well. Saifu said to sip the tincture and allow it to work.”

Brahanu swallowed a few sips while they watered the horses. It didn’t take long for them to start off again.

After talking with Ahni and Aizen, she was reminded of the importance of her choice. She did love Pentanimir, but she still loved Itai. In fact, the more she thought about him, the more she realized that her love for Itai was even greater. The further they traveled from Bandari, the easier it seemed to let go.

“Brahanu? Didn’t you hear?” Aizen asked.

“Pardon…what?”

“We’ve cleared Mahlum and will head for Noraa.”

“Oh, thank...thank you. A bed will be welcome after such a long ride.”

“Indeed.” Aizen smiled. “But I sense something more on your mind. You can share your thoughts.”

“It’s just, I was curious why your parents went to Bandari. What I mean to say is, Vot and Huname are both human. Why would they need shelter from Nazil?”

“There was a need,” Ahni said. “There was a great need. Have you heard of Hyorin?”

“My father has spoken of it many times. It was destroyed by the Nazilians.”

“It was that and more. It’s not spoken about much anymore, but those who were there will never forget. Our parents were among them.”

“Hyorin was once a great human city,” Aizen continued. “Many prosperous families resided there. Noraa was built upon its ashes.”

“Why doesn’t anyone talk about it?” Brahanu asked.

“Many out of fear…some out of regret. What happened in Hyorin was a massacre. Thousands were slain and others were taken captive.”

“A massacre? My father led some sentries to assist, but they didn’t arrive in time. He’s never truly spoken about what he found there.”

“What he would’ve found was devastation,” Ahni said. “They attacked under the cover of darkness. Our parents speak of ghosts appearing from the darkness. Hundreds lay dead before the bell of warning sounded. Father sent Mother to the shelter and escape tunnel, but it wasn’t enough.”

“The Nazilians speak of ‘honor above all,’” Aizen sneered. “What honor is there in attacking people who lay abed? What honor is there in killing innocent children and women? They have no honor!”

“There are many Nazilians with honor,” Ahni said. “Not like the beasts who orchestrated this cowardly attack.”

“Why did they attack Hyorin, Ahni? Surely they posed no threat to Nazil.”

“Nazil saw a threat. Their Zaxson was concerned about Hyorin’s growth and independence. The people there enjoyed a rich life, and flourished no matter the mulct that Nazil demanded. They even had their own fighting forces, not only sentries. But none of that mattered when the snakes crept up from the grass,” Ahni spat. “The city became too strong for Nazil. Draizeyn feared they would lead a rebellion against them. They had the resources, the numbers, and the training. If they had a mind, it could’ve been so.”

Aizen nodded. “This is also why Draizeyn keeps spreading Nazil’s reach. They use the Caretakers to learn about villages and their denizens.”

“What about Cazaal? We have no such persons among us.”

“Don’t answer so surely, Brahanu,” Aizen said.

Her brow creased, considering that statement. “What happened when your mother made for the shelter?”

“She—she didn’t make it.”

“But how? How did she escape?”

“Did you know that we had an older sister and brother?” Ahni asked.

“No, your parents didn’t mention them.”

“Mother reached the shelter that led to an underground tunnel. It was filled with people, panicking, and pushing their way through. Mother didn’t want to leave without Father, so she sent Annissah and Eylul through the tunnel with our attendants.”

“Are they your brother and sister?”

“Yes,” Aizen said. “The Nazilians set the steadings and stables on fire. Mother could hear the horses’ whinnies as they burned and choked on the smoke. She did what she could to free them, but most didn’t survive.”

“Gods, I didn’t know. Father never mentioned any of this.”

Ahni sighed. “He couldn’t have known. By the time that he arrived, Hyorin must’ve been in ruins.

“Mother tethered horses near the shelter, riding one through the city. Most of our sentries had been cut down in the streets. Others were barred in their homes and billets before they were set ablaze. The screams, the way mother described the screams.” His eyes closed with the memory. “Most of the Nohek and Tumishi were murdered. The birds they sent didn’t reach the villages in time.”

“Mother couldn’t find Father, and it wasn’t safe to travel farther into the burning city,” Aizen said. “It wasn’t until she turned back to the shelter did she see him. He was near the horses, helping those who had been injured. She thanked the gods, but her happiness was short-lived. As she neared the shelter, a great explosion rumbled with such force that it knocked her from her mount. It was as if the ground was swallowing everything around it.”

“A crash? What happened?”

“No one knows how the Nazilians knew. They...they collapsed the escape tunnel. Everyone who was in there was crushed under the weight.”

Brahanu gasped. “All of them? Even the children? Oh, gods, your brother, and sister... they... they were in the tunnel. Did they make it through? Please, did they make it out of the tunnel?”

Aizen shook his head. “Only a few survived the tunnel. Those who made it through fled into the wood near where the tunnel led. Mother and Father were fortunate to have the horses. They took the few wounded around them, heading toward the mountains.”

“But why didn’t they go to Kaleo for help?”

“They didn’t know who’d betrayed them. Someone told the Nazilians about the escape tunnel. Mother was inconsolable once they reached the mountains. What they discovered there shaped their future.”

“Nazilians. Father flew into a rage, attacking them with abandon. One of the men was Elder Hosdaq. When Esme screamed, Father noticed the children that she was shielding.”

“Hosdaq? But who was with him?”

“You’ve met Nzuri and Emet,” Ahni said. “They were there with their father, Gayu. Their mother was Nazilian, and killed in the city.”

“But if Hosdaq knew, why didn’t he warn them?”

“He was afraid. He led Esme and a few others to safety, but didn’t know where to go. Once the fighting stopped, he and Father formed an agreement of sorts. They didn’t trust each other, but they needed each other to escape.”

“What about Hosdaq? Did he ever return to Nazil?”

“He did,” Aizen said. “Hosdaq helped to build Bandari, and through him, Kuhani came among us. He provided most of the coin we needed as well. But he always returned to Nazil.”

“We’ve arrived,” Ahni said.

“So soon?” Brahanu asked. “I thought it would be much longer.”

“It was. The conversation just made it appear otherwise,” Aizen said.

“Ahni, you’ll room with us at the inn. We’ll wait while you send the message, but you won’t stay in the city,” he said, turning to Brahanu. “If you’d like a bath, they can provide that, too. Pentanimir has given us ample coin, and we’ll purchase some attire more befitting your return home. We’re well situated.”

“Thank you, Aizen. A bath would be much appreciated. Mayhaps we can speak more about Bandari over our meal. Your priest, Kuhani, truly interests me.”

He smiled. “There’s much to tell, and more to learn.”

Itai towered over his father, his large, corded arms reaching over Tioch’s head, grabbing items from the shelves. Each time he reached, Tioch waved his hand about in frustration.

“Why ain’t he usin’ his own horses?” Tioch asked.

“These are the strongest horses we have. We’re traveling deeper in the wood and partially into the Fire Lands.”

“What of yer chores here?” Tioch asked, dropping his rasp on the table for effect. “Am I ‘sposed to do all the work myself while ya run errands for Hacom?”

“I’m not running errands; I’m searching for my promised.”

Itai’s eyes narrowed, his mouth gaping in surprise.

“What now, Itai?” Tioch said, tossing his hands in the air. “All right, that was too harsh. I know ya care for the girl. Hell, ya love her. It’d just be nice to have ya wed instead of a promise of such. The seasons pass, and ya still talk ‘bout promises. Could be Hacom don’t think a craftsman is good enough for his daughter.”

“Hacom agreed to the promise. Why do you always say that?”

“Itai, have ya grown soft? Words. Just words. Of course, I hope ya find the girl. I ain’t wishin’ no ill on her.”

“Oh, leave the boy be, ya ol’ grouch,” Naji said. “He’s got a good heart. That’s more’n I can say for ya. Can’t ya see he’s sufferin’? Ya always was hard as iron.”

“Old woman, who asked ya? I thought ya was boilin’ water for wash’n. What ya doin’ out here interruptin’ father and son?”

“Humph, boilin’ water fer wash’n,” she repeated. “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Ta see ol’ Naji struggle with that heavy caldron. If’n ya want that wash’n done, ya best be gettin’ out back and pour that water inta the barrel,” she murmured, shuffling away.

Tioch pointed at Naji, eyeing Itai.

“Ya see what ya done caused? Now I got to listen to her rant ‘til noonday. Go on, meet with Hacom. I’ll finish the work for ta’day. But I’ll need yer help on the morrow.”

Itai smiled and wrapped his father in a hug, lifting him easily from the ground. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll come before the moon’s rise, I promise.”

Itai moved quickly toward the stable as the temple bell tolled. When no other toll sounded, his eyes widened. Mounting Ared, he galloped towards the village center.

“Itai, what’s the matter?” Nesrine asked.

“Didn’t you hear? Only one toll! There’s been a bird. A message has arrived!” He called out over his shoulder.

By the time he arrived at the crowded temple, Nohek Glennon stepped out onto the platform. After searching the crowd, he motioned to Itai.

“Nohek, is there news of Brahanu?”

“There’s been word. I’ll need you to take the scroll to Hacom.”

“Please, you must tell me, Nohek Glennon, is she all right?”

“Don’t worry, my son, she’s fine.” Glennon smiled.

“Thank the gods! Oh, thank the gods! Thank you, Nohek, I’ll tell Hacom at once.”

Taking the small scroll from Glennon, he tucked it in his pouch, mounting Ared. Itai wanted to shout the news for all to hear as he urged Ared faster.

He pounded on Hacom’s door while rushing inside to find them.

“By the gods, Itai, what’s the matter?” Amani asked, glancing around at Julaybeim and Hacom.

Itai only smiled, reaching in his pouch, and producing the scroll.

“Is it Brahanu?” Amani asked, stepping closer.

He nodded, handing her the scroll. Both Hacom and Julaybeim moved closer, reading the scroll as she did: “Father, I’m all right and will be home within two suns. I have passage on a ship named the Spicy Lass. Give my love to everyone, and please tell Itai that I’m all right and miss him terribly.”

Amani yelped, drawing the men into a celebratory embrace.

Hacom couldn’t respond. He returned her hug and then staggered away, taking a seat near the hearth. Their daughter was safe and coming home, and that news took the breath from him.

“Thank you, Itai. Our daughter is coming home, she’s coming home,” Amani shouted, hugging him again.

“Yes, the gods are good, and she’s coming home!” Itai lifted Amani up, spinning her around in the air.

“Father, we need to prepare for Brahanu’s return,” Julaybeim said. “Two suns seem long, but she’ll be back soon, and we must be ready.”

“Yes…yes…everyone must come and celebrate with us. Almaz will need help in the kitchen.”

“We’ll need some tables and benches, too, Father. Nohek Glennon might have some to lend. I’ll ask him, and talk with Yerrid, too.”

“Hacom, what’s the matter? Our daughter is coming home, yet you seem troubled.”

“No, Amani, I’m all right. It’s just that Noraa is so distant. I don’t understand how she ended up so far from Depero Wood.”

“Father, Brahanu can answer that upon her return. It’s not for us to question how the gods delivered her. We are to be thankful that she was delivered.”

Hacom smiled, meeting Julaybeim’s grey eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. With the same copper-colored complexion, curly, raven hair, and hench build, Julaybeim appeared much as Hacom did in his youth. His smile grew. “You have the right of it. Her safety is all that matters.”

Itai edged closer, clearing his throat. “Hacom, I—I don’t mean to overstep, but if it pleases you, I’d like to meet Brahanu. I’d go after two suns and wait at the port inn. If—if—it pleases you and Amani,” he stammered, his eyes never leaving the floor.

Hacom and Amani shared a glance and then regarded Itai. For years, he’d loved Brahanu. Many men wouldn’t have had the patience for such a wait. Yet, there he stood. Brahanu was the only woman that he’d ever loved, and he proved that love with each rise of the sun.

“I think that Brahanu would be pleased at seeing you,” Hacom said. “We know you’ll bring her home safely.”

“Thank you, thank you both. I must tell Papa the news!” Itai hugged them again before rushing out the room.

When he returned home, Tioch was draping a tarp over a pile of wood. Itai watched as he fumbled with the covering that kept being blown up by the wind.

“Here, Papa, let me help.”

Tioch stepped away, wiping sweat from his brow. Reaching inside his vest, he removed a small flask, and then rested on a stool. “Whew, it’s good ya came when ya did. Looks like we’re gettin’ more rain,” he said, taking a swig from the flask. ‘Wait, what ya doin’ back? I thought you was in such a hurry to meet Hacom.”

“Didn’t you hear the toll?”

“I never pay them things no mind. If it’s somethin’ important, someone will come ‘round sooner or later talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Why ya lookin’ and talkin’ that way, Itai? What’s the news?”

“Papa, it was from Brahanu! She’ll be back in Cazaal in two suns…back with me!”

“Two suns? That’s a long way from home. Where’s she been?”

“Does it matter? Can’t you be happy at the news? Brahanu is coming home to me.”

“Can’t yer papa ask one question without ya gettin’ all tied up in knots? Of course, I’m happy the girl is safe. But Noraa is far from Cazaal and these merchants…” He shook his head.

“Everything is fine, Papa. I need to tend our house before she comes. The floor is nearly done. I just hope that she likes it.”

“Well, she’d best like it. Not one home in this village has as much wood as ya put in there. Could be done if not for placin’ all that wood and them beams. It took half the trees in Depero to do all ya done.”

“Papa, she’s going to be my wife. When she leaves her father’s home, I want her to have a nice one to come to. She’s used to fine things and I—I—”

Tioch stood, pointing a thick finger. “Now ya look here, Itai. Yer a fine son. Don’t go judgin’ yer worth by her father. Hells, no one in the village stands as his equal. Brahanu should thank the gods for ya.”

“I’m not measuring myself against the man. I only want Brahanu to have what she’s used to. I might not have much coin, but I have my skills. I’ll use it to create a home and furnishings that she’ll be proud of.”

“As ya say. If that’s what yer wantin’, ya will be happy to know that I finished that fancy tub of yers.”

“Finished? Already? How did you finish so soon?”

“Did ya forget who taught ya the trade? It was important to ya; that made it equally so to me. Old man Banerin will just have to wait on that new table: my son comes first.”

Itai smiled, quickly embracing him. “Where’d you put it?” he asked, lifting some tarps and peering beneath.

“While ya was off with Hacom, Clive helped me load it in the cart and take it over there. We put it on that platform in the bedchamber. Ain’t that where ya wanted it?”

“Yes. I’ll put candles of real wax around it, not rushlights. It’ll be grand! Colton painted scenes with beautiful trees, flowers, and falls. Nesrine will make some fine drapes, too. If I can get the wood before the weather cools, I can finish soon.”

“Itai, ya gotta rest. When ya not workin’ here, ya workin’ at the house, if not there; yer with Hacom or sparrin’ with Aschelon. Then, ya run off to the wood to cut and split trees. Ya always busy. I worry ‘bout yer health. Brahanu will love the house, just like she loves ya.”

“That’s my hope.”

Tioch stood, heading inside the house. “Naji fixed a meal. She was out here just before ya came fussin’ ‘bout no one bein’ inside to eat it. I don’t know why I keep that old woman ‘round here.”

“You keep her around because you couldn’t make it without her.”

“Mayhaps she’s the one who can’t make it without me. Ya ever thought ‘bout that?”

“I have, Papa,” Itai laughed. “You two need each other. Now, let’s go and enjoy our meal. Besides, I want to tell her about Brahanu. She’ll be happy at the news.”

Pentanimir woke to the pleasant aroma of bacon. He sat up, wiping the weariness from his eyes, inhaling deeper. Despite his recent conflicts, he was pleased to be home with Danimore. After a deep yawn, he tossed the covers aside, standing to fill his chamber pot. As he nearly finished, he jerked, hearing a woman’s voice. Spraying the floor and himself, he fumbled about, trying to lower his tunic.

After removing his tunic, he smiled, noticing that Zeta must’ve washed and organized his clothing. He pulled on his stockings and trews, moving to the basin.

“Oh, cold,” he said, patting his face dry and continuing to dress. When he opened the chamber door, voices and laughter filled the corridor. For a moment, he just listened, enjoying the sound of Danimore’s laugh. It had been far too long since he’d heard that.

“Good morrow,” Pentanimir said, sitting next to Danimore. “The smells are giving me quite an appetite.”

“Morning, milord.” Zeta curtsied, hurrying to prepare his plate.

“Did you enjoy your bed?” Danimore asked.

“Much and more. I prefer feathers to straw or my bedroll.”

Zeta set a plate piled high with fried potatoes and onions, bacon, fried bread, and eggs down in front of him. After pouring him some tea, she joined them at the table.

“What, no pottage this morning?” Pentanimir japed. “These are delicious, Zeta. Your cooking is much better than Dani’s,” he laughed, clapping Danimore on the back.

Danimore nodded, returning his smile. “Are you going to meet Uncle this morning?”

“I doubt that I can avoid it. Uncle will have his meeting and his pledge. I’ll see my obligations to their end.”

“There’s more that he would have of you.”

“More? Isn’t that enough? I’ve only just returned.”

“It’s actually what Draizeyn’s planned. I just learned about it myself. Draizeyn wants us to trek to the Dessalonian Wood.”

Pentanimir paused, his visage aptly displaying his concern.

“Dessalonia? Why?”

“You already know, Brother. If the land is worthy, we’ll expand Nazil’s reach.”

“He’d clear the wood for a new city?”

“Uncle didn’t discuss any details with me. We’ve been assigned to survey the lands and make a report,” he paused. “Uncle has assigned to others to accompany us.”

“Nakaris and Beilzen.”

“Beilzen? That caitiff with a false tongue? Why?”

“Uncle trusts Beilzen’s whispers. Mayhaps if you joined your words with mine, he’d give our concerns a proper hearing.”

“No, he’s blind when it comes to the snakes of Nazil. Whether false or true, he listens. That’s one of Oxilon’s greatest weaknesses, yet he sees it as strength. At least Nakaris is well suited. Beilzen lacks much, and is better with counting coin than wielding a sword.”

Pentanimir picked up a piece of fried bread, dipping it in the honey. “Zeta, I wanted to speak with you, but it’ll have to wait. The meal was delicious,” Pentanimir said, taking a bite of bread.

“Thank you, milord.”

“Are you leaving now, Pentanimir?”

“If I don’t, Uncle might send Beilzen to fetch me. I’ll change and head to the temple. Isn’t that where Uncle spends most of his time now?”

“It is, and I’d like to know the why of it.”

“There’s much with Uncle of late that gives me pause. I honor him as our family’s head for now, but his continued interaction with Beilzen troubles me.”

“Yannick, too. Neither of them has been the same since Uncle’s influence.”

“Aye. Beilzen, I can understand. Doing Uncle’s bidding helps him gain position. But Yannick is a high lord and Second Chosen. Uncle can offer him little.”

“Mayhaps the fact that Yannick is as a brother to you is reason enough,” Danimore said.

“I’ve felt much the same,” Pentanimir said, moving down the long corridor. As he donned his formal tunic, he couldn’t stop thinking about Bandari. It’s too soon for Nazil to build again, he thought. I’ll have to send the Elders a message somehow. I can’t return to Noraa with Beilzen casting suspicion my way. Dani might need to assist me. He’s the only one that I trust.

He sighed, pulling on his leather boots. The swirling emotions inside of him caused his eyes to close, attempting to push all else from his mind. This was a meeting that he wished he could avoid.

“Good morrow, First Chosen. Have you come for atonement and supplication?”

Pentanimir’s brow furrowed. “I’m here to meet my uncle, Cha. Why would you assume that I need atonement?”

“Are any of us without transgression?” He smiled. “I was merely asking about your need so that I could fulfill it. Even those of the Brotherhood offer propitiation for our deficiencies,” Temian said, stepping closer. “Sir Oxilon is in conference with the Cha Asham.”

“Mayhaps I should return when they’ve completed their business.”

“That won’t be necessary, son of Manifir. You’re expected. I trust that you remember the way.”

“Indeed. Until the next time, Cha,” Pentanimir said, moving off down the corridor. He could at least pretend to show love for me. Forever will I pay for my father’s sins. Mayhaps I’ve erred, and he’s as corrupt as the rest.

He took a steadying breath, forcing the best smile that he could muster.

Three servants hurried around the room, stoking the fire and setting another place on the table. Pentanimir looked at all the jeweled adornments and finery, shaking his head. No one in the lands should ever be hungry with such waste as this . Each time he visited the lavish temple, his revulsion only grew.

“Greetings Cha, Uncle. It’s an honor.”

The Cha Asham turned, his wisps of white hair swaying through the air. “My son, it’s good to have you back home in Nazil. How was your journey?”

“It’s good to be home, Cha. The journey was long, but not without rewards. I trust that you’ve enjoyed my gift.”

A wide smile crossed his thin lips. “Yes, yes, I did. Mayhaps you would care to join me as I partake,” he said, clapping his hands. Two servants hurried to the table, filling goblets with wine.

“It’s good to see you well, Uncle,” Pentanimir said.

“Indeed, however, I would’ve been better had you informed me of your leave.”

“Forgive me. The hour was late, and I didn’t want to disturb your rest. Danimore was to report my whereabouts and concerns. When I saw trees collapsing in the growing darkness, I knew that I needed to check for damages.”

“It’s not your reasoning that’s in question. It’s the fact that you chose to leave under the cover of darkness. Some reported unfavorably regarding your actions.”

Pentanimir smirked. “I’m not concerned about the whispers of a craven. They have only their false words to prosper them. Albeit, they need to guard their tongue, or risk losing it.”

Oxilon reared his head back, laughing. “You sound more like your father than yourself. That’s refreshing,” he said, taking a long drink. “It’s good that you’ve lost none of your fire, Nephew. It will be needed.”

“Yes, Danimore informed me about a journey.”

“We’ll speak about that soon. Most important is the pledge to Lady Denotra. I’m certain this is of greater interest to you, is it not?”

“This is good news, my son,” the Cha said with a flourish. “Good news, indeed.”

“It is, Nephew. The Zaxson and I met with the council to discuss worthy candidates to wed his daughter. There were a few in opposition, but the Zaxson saw them for what they were.”

“What was his decision,” Pentanimir said, leaning forward with feigned interest.

“The Zaxson selected you to wed Lady Denotra.”

“I’m honored, and will visit the Zaxson personally on the morrow to convey my gratitude.”

“I’m glad that you appreciate the significance of your selection,” Oxilon said. “Some spoke to the contrary.”

“Who wouldn’t be pleased with such an honor? Lady Denotra is both beautiful and intelligent. She’s the cynosure of all of Faélondul, and no one stands as her equal.”

The Cha nodded. “You speak true, my son. Many objected to this pledge, and some rather strongly. Your uncle was even thought biased on the matter. But Lord Draizeyn saw the truth of it. You have served Nazil well, just as your father before you. The house of Benoist has always served Nazil with honor.”

“Hear, hear,” Oxilon chimed in, raising his goblet. “Honor above all!”

Pentanimir raised his cup, reluctantly joining in the toast. The wine didn’t taste as sweet. He glanced around the room, feigning a smile. In truth, the words didn’t touch him. He saw the servants standing amidst them, scarred and ruined. Never had it passed his notice how the young female slaves were used in the temple. One after the other, the Cha would rape them, purging their fleshly desires to better hear the will of the Four. At least, that’s how they justified the brutalities. Pentanimir held in his breath, forcing the bile threatening to rise back down. We drink toasts to ourselves while those we’ve stolen and enslaved stand and serve us. Draizeyn won’t rest until all the lands are subjugated to him alone. How vile a thing it is we do. Yet, we think ourselves superior.

“More wine, Pentanimir?”

“No, thank you, Cha. I have much to attend to this day.”

“Yes, you do, Nephew. We must meet with Danimore, Nakaris, and Beilzen. You’ll need to take leave soon.”

“Beilzen? Has he earned a promotion since my leave?” Pentanimir asked.

“Promotion?” Oxilon said. “Nothing but my word is necessary to elevate Beilzen to the position of my choosing.”

“As you say, Uncle. Regardless of his appointment, he’s the lowest ranking guard, and I’ll not tolerate his insolence. He might be of great use to you, but he serves no purpose for me.”

“His purpose is of no concern. Beilzen will do his duty, I assure.”

“Uncle, why such expedience? Spero is yet under construction. We’ll be spread too thin if we begin to build in the Dessalonian Woods.”

“Spero is of little matter. The Zaxson has ordered this report to confirm the viability of our new city’s location. Once that’s known, all else will fall into place.”

“Well, if our Zaxson has ordered it, we’ll see it done,” Pentanimir said, standing. “If it pleases you, I must take leave.”

“Ah, wait, Pentanimir,” Oxilon said. “Have you seen the slave your brother chose for your home?”

“Yes, I’ve met Zeta. She seems pleasant enough and cooks a fine meal.”

“Is that all you have to say about her?”

“It’s all that I know. The house was very clean, my clothes were neat, and the food was hot and tasty. She’s even ventured to the second level, clearing and organizing the chambers there. Is this not an attendant’s duty?”

“I’m not speaking of her duty. What about her condition?”

“As to this, I didn’t inquire. Her pregnancy hasn’t hindered her work thus far. If it becomes an issue, I’ll deal with it at that time.”

“Did Danimore tell you how she was acquired?”

“Yes, the Zaxson gifted her to us. When I visit, I’ll express my gratitude for this as well. It was much needed and long overlooked.” Pentanimir inclined his head. “Now, if it pleases you, Cha, Uncle, I must take leave. I’ll see you on the morrow.”

“Yes, my son. It’s good to have you back in Nazil where you belong.”

“Thank you, Cha. It’s good to be home.”

She looked out over the Great Sword, and the ships at the quay. Soon, she’d be home, and that thought alone was heartening. She contemplated how to explain everything to Itai. That was her greatest concern. Although she longed to see him, she dreaded his reaction. He loved her, but this betrayal could end their relationship that had flourished over the years.

She leaned on the railing, inhaling the scented air. The sun’s light reflected off the blue-green water as the small boats left ripples in their wake. Those ripples were reminiscent of the choices that she’d made, and the consequences that would inevitably follow them.

“Brahanu,” Aizen said. “How are you?”

“A stiff back and a few bites, but I’m fine.”

“Do they truly believe such twaddle?”

“To the sailors, it’s truth. It’s their ship and their rules, but I gave him extra coin to allay his fears. Even so, it’s best if you remain below deck as much as possible.”

“Below deck?” She protested. “I wanted to view the lands from the deck. Our crafts are much smaller than these and I’ve never sailed the Great Sword. Besides, the stench from those spices and animals will be unbearable.”

“I’m sorry, Brahanu. If the winds are kind, we’ll be in Cazaal in a sun. They’ve but two stops this trip, and one is port Cazaal. You’ll not have to endure it for long.”

Brahanu didn’t argue. She nodded, admiring the water’s beauty again.

Vendors rolled carts up and down the platform: Fresh clams! Fresh mussels! Fresh crab! She heard the fishmongers shout as they passed.

Rugged shipmates and lumpers of all sorts crowded the port, mingling with scantily dressed women who inveigled them, selling their own wares.

“Brahanu?” Ahni said. “I wanted to wish you well before I left for Noraa. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope to see you again.”

“Thank you, Ahni. I hope the same,” she said, offering a quick embrace.

“Aizen, I’ll purchase the supplies and retain our usual accommodations. Don’t delay.”

“Take care, Brother. My return will be swift.”

When he heard the Captain’s call, Aizen clapped his brother on the back, and extended out an elbow to Brahanu.

“We must take leave now, Ahni. The captain doesn’t seem like one to keep in wait.”

Regardless of the ship’s size, their cabin was much different. Most of the space was allotted for cargo and stores. With the short jaunts up and down the Great Sword, the majority of sailors didn’t need accommodations.

Although Brahanu enjoyed being allowed on deck that night, the constant motion and waves made her queasy. Twice she’d heaved over the side. After the wind shifted, covering her with vomit the first time, she learned from her mistake. Brahanu chuckled, recalling Aizen’s face. She’d splattered him with vomit, too, and they both needed a bath.

Tucking her brush in her satchel, she stood, draping her cloak over her shoulders. The constant calls from the corridor alerted to their location.

“Brahanu,” Aizen said, tapping on the door. “May I enter?”

“Yes. I’ve finished dressing.”

He smiled, closing the door behind him. “It was definitely worth the wait. Your promised will be pleased, Brahanu, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to be such a bother. I just wanted to freshen before we arrived.”

“It wasn’t any bother. Do you have everything packed? They’ll be dropping anchor soon.”

“There wasn’t much other than the new items that we purchased.”

Aizen turned, hearing loud voices and heavy footsteps in the corridor.

“It seems that we’ve arrived. Gather your belongings, and I’ll be back in a moment.”

Brahanu nodded, feeling her heart rate increase. She was glad to be home, but she feared what was to come.

“Are you ready,” Aizen asked.

Brahanu took another deep breath, joining him at the door. Aizen extended out his arm, watching the movement up and down the companionway. After a group of sailors passed, they slipped through, hurrying up the narrow stairs. With every step, the air became fresher. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of home as Aizen led her on deck. After navigating through the morass of sailors, he stopped, gesturing down to a skiff.

“Allow me ta help ya, lass,” a gruff voice called out.

Brahanu turned, seeing an older man with deep pits in his face. His large nose was red on the tip and full of little white bumps. When she regarded Aizen, he patted her on the shoulder.

“This is the captain’s purser, Rannoon,” Aizen said. “Thank you for your assistance, Rannoon. Will you help to lower Brahanu to the skiff?”

“It’d be me pleasure ta aid such a lovely lass.” Rannoon held Brahanu’s other arm, lowering her to the waiting boat. Once she finally found her footing, she took a seat, glancing around at the men crowded near her.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Mayhaps I should,” Aizen said, climbing down into the crowded boat.

Brahanu grasped his elbow, scooting closer to him. “Thank you, Aizen,” she whispered.

“No, pardon me. You shouldn’t have had to remind me. You’re not home yet.”

“No, but soon. Can you visit Cazaal. My family would love to meet you?”

“No, we ‘ave another two hauls. If ya plan on comin’ back aboard, ya needs be waitin’ ‘ere when we return.”

“I’ll be returning with you.”

Brahanu took Aizen’s arm, walking inland. When they reached a double-knotted tree with a bench in front, Brahanu sat, motioning for him to join her.

“This is my favorite place to sit and watch the ships arrive,” she said. “It’s away from the usual traffic and vendors, and the setting sun looks beautiful from here.”

“It does. This port is different than Noraa’s or even Kaleo’s. I see why you’ve missed Cazaal so.”

“I’d really like for you to visit Cazaal and meet my family. It’s not far from here, and the people are wonderful. My younger sister, Ameya, would truly enjoy meeting you.”

“I’ll admit: the travel has done me well. It’s not often that I’m permitted to leave the village. We purchase supplies and send messages from Noraa, but this is different. I’d love to meet the villagers, and especially your sister.” He smiled. “Mayhaps the Elders will allow it.”

“Have you noticed anyone from your village here?”

“None yet. We could check the inn. I’m certain they’ll be here.”

“Let’s walk back to the port and see.”

As they began to walk, Brahanu stopped, looking around.

“Is everything all right, Brahanu?”

“Didn’t you hear it? Someone is calling me.”

“Am I just someone now, Brahanu?” A deep voice called from behind them.

Brahanu gasped, seeing Itai standing near the double-knotted tree.

“Itai,” she shouted, running into his arms. “I’ve missed you so!”

“Oh, I love you, Brahanu,” he breathed, drawing her into him. “We feared the worst, but you’re home with me.”

“Yes, and I don’t ever want to be parted again,” she said, kissing his cheek as he lowered her to the ground. “I’d like to introduce you to Aizen Osmont. He traveled with me aboard ship and kept me safe.”

Itai stretched out a hand to Aizen. Next to him, Aizen looked nothing but a child. Itai stood over four cubits and was heavily muscled. With a square jaw, thick dark blond hair, and grey-blue eyes, he was handsome, too.

“Thank you for bringing her back to us, Aizen.”

“It was an honor to meet Brahanu and escort her home.”

“Aizen’s brother, Ahni, sent my message. They’ve both taken the greatest care of me.”

“You give too much praise, Brahanu. It’s been our pleasure to escort you.”

“Brahanu’s family is having a welcome feast. I know that her parents would want to meet and reward the man who protected their daughter,” Itai said.

“I’d be honored, but my brother awaits me in Noraa. Please give my regards to her parents.”

Itai nodded, reaching into his pouch, and pulling out several coins. “Will you at least accept this to cover some of the expense? It’s little payment for what you’ve done, but it’s all that I have.”

“I couldn’t take your last, but the thought is much appreciated. There’s no payment needed for such a deed.”

“They’ve returned,” Brahanu said.

“Aye, and that means that I must take leave,” Aizen said, raising her hand to his lips. “It was a true honor to meet you both. I hope that our paths will cross again soon.”

“Be safe, Aizen. Please give everyone my love,” Brahanu called out behind him.

Brahanu enfolded Itai into her arms, enjoying the feel and smell of him. In that moment, she regretted her indiscretions with Pentanimir even more. She loved this man and wanted to truly begin their life together.

“I’m glad to have you in my arms again, Brahanu. It’s been too long, and my heart ached in your absence. I love you.”

If she’d gripped him any tighter, they would have appeared as one. Brahanu forced back her forming tears, trying to control the sudden weakness in her knees.

“I love you, too, Itai. I’m glad that you came to meet me.”

He scooped her up in his arms, kissing her cheek. “I’ll not leave your side, not anymore,” he said, carrying her to the cart and taking a seat beside her.

“Itai, may I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, always.”

“Can—can you kiss me?”

“I’ve kissed you, many times. Do you desire another?” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek again.

“No, Itai. Not like that. I want to feel your lips against mine.”

“What? But when I…you never wanted...I wouldn’t know…I mean—I—”

“I’ve always wanted it, but it wasn’t proper for me to say so. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want to waste another moment with you. I want to experience this part of your love as well.”

Itai swallowed hard. After taking a deep breath, he leaned closer, gently touching her lips with his. Brahanu only smiled, pulling him back down to her. The heat of their connection nearly made her lightheaded as she parted her lips, easing her tongue inside.

When Itai jerked away, she drew him down again. “This is what I want to feel, Itai. Don’t fear expressing your love for me.”

He kissed her again, longer and more passionately than before. She heard his breathing grow heavy as he moaned against her lips. After many long moments, his eyes widened, moving away.

Brahanu was perplexed until she noticed the significant evidence of his arousal. She slid closer, easing a hand over his thigh.

“Brahanu, what are you doing?” Itai said, jumping down from the cart.

“I’m only expressing how I feel, and letting you know that I’m ready. A season ago, I would’ve been like you, but no longer. We’re supposed to be aroused by each other, Itai. Our love is emotional, but it’s beyond that. It’s physical, and enduring, and passionate, too. I feel it now, and I’m not ashamed. I’ve always felt it. I love you, and I want to become your wife.”

“You’re going to honor our promise?”

“I’ve always honored it.”

“I want you , Itai. Being lost and…and not knowing if I’d ever see you again,” she sighed. “I’ve realized what’s truly important. I love working with Lakaar Briac, but I love you more. I’ve been selfish, and I won’t cause you to wait any longer. Will you marry me, Itai?”

Itai shouted, jumping back into the cart. He held her out at arm’s length before drawing her into a kiss. This time, he didn’t care about his arousal.

“I love you more with each sunrise, Brahanu. You’ve made me the happiest man in all the lands.”

“You’ve done the same for me. But there’s much that I need to tell you before we reach Cazaal.”

“There’s nothing in all the lands that could dampen my mood.” Itai kissed her again and then released the break, guiding the horse onto the road.

“It’s good to be home with you again,” she whispered, hugging his arm. “I’ve prayed for this day.”

“As did I, my love.”

“I told you not to worry.”

“Yes, milord. I think that I frightened him when he arrived. He asked a lot of questions.”

“That would be normal finding a strange woman in your home, no matter how lovely. Besides, Pentanimir has much on his mind of late that he’s not ready to share. I hope he has a change of mind soon.”

Drying her hands on her skirt, she took a seat across from him.

“I couldn’t help but to hear raised voices. Did I anger Sir Benoist?”

“Please, call us by name, Zeta. Pentanimir isn’t angry with you, he’s angered at his situation. He’s obligated to wed the Zaxson’s daughter, and that isn’t a prospect that he finds desirable.”

“Danimore, may I speak plainly?”

“You needn’t guard your words with me, but don’t attempt the same with anyone else.”

“I can understand his feelings. In all my time at the citadel, I’ve never seen Lady Denotra be kind. Most of her family seemed the same.” Her head lowered. “Especially her father.”

“You aren’t wrong. My dealings with the Vereux aren’t like that of my brother, and I’m grateful for that. I know that they detest humans, but what I witnessed reaches far beyond that. I don’t mingle with the Zaxson, Cha, or those who hold themselves in high regard. Pentanimir has the honor of such associations.”

“You speak about the honor of association, yet you seem relieved not to have the responsibility.”

“There’s not much that I could hide from you.” He smiled. “I’m grateful not to hold such responsibility. As the elder brother, and First Chosen, they’re his alone. However, I regret that Pentanimir must suffer this. He didn’t ask for this position, but he’ll honor it. Marrying Lady Denotra is one obligation that he must keep.”

“Does she truly love him?”

“Love, desire, lust, it’s uncertain. Even if her attraction is merely physical, that’s more than is required.”

“It seems sad to me,” Zeta said.

She nodded. “It appears that love isn’t important. If you hold the correct station or wealth, this seems to be how a marriage is formed. Well, at least to most highborns. It’s about sustaining or combining power, not love.”

“This is the way of things. Howbeit, in many cases, these matches do end in love. That was true with my parents. They were very happy.”

“My father selected my husband as well, but Radich and I already cared for each other. He was a striker for my father before becoming his apprentice. My uncle would tease him about the attention he’d always show me. It didn’t matter. He picked a flower every day and left it for me to find. In truth, both my uncle and father were happy for us. We merely awaited my sixteenth name day before we could wed. Now, it can never be.”

Zeta stood, turning her back to him. He listened to her sniffles as she pretended to stoke the fire. He didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to do something to comfort her. When she felt his touch, she flinched, whipping around to face him. Danimore shook his head, drawing her into his chest. He held her there, allowing her to cry in his arms.

“Zeta, you can still be with your promised. I’ll find a way to return you to Noraa if you want. I promise.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“You deserve many things, Zeta, many good things.”

When the door opened, Zeta pulled away, rushing down the corridor.

“Dani, is there something you need to tell me?” Pentanimir asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t dismiss what I’ve just seen. Does uncle worry with reason?”

“No. Zeta needed our help. We haven’t done anything more than what you’ve seen. I comforted her as she mourned the loss of her promised, nothing more.”

“Her promised? Does she carry his child?”

Danimore shook his head, collapsing on the divan. “Zeta was maiden before she was taken. She doesn’t know her child’s sire. It’s one of the many animals who abused her on the ship and in the citadel.”

“Many? Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

“None of it can be undone. After she healed, Draizeyn kept her for himself. Once he tired of her, he sent her to the Cha and even had some dark slave abuse her. Daracus laughed at the pain she suffered from the abuse. But that wasn’t enough for them. Her treatment worsened after they learned of her pregnancy. When first I saw her, she was laid out on the floor, beaten. She’s pregnant, Pentanimir, and they treated her worse than an animal.

“That’s why I chose her. I refused to leave her there. I—I wouldn’t. Uncle is right: I’m not strong enough to be a Chosen. The guards stood there and did nothing. I—I can’t. I won’t.”

“No Dani, your heart is exactly as a Chosen’s should be. Empathy isn’t a weakness; it makes you stronger.”

Pentanimir stood just as the rear door closed. He gazed down the corridor, hearing water splashing on the floor.

“Zeta?” Danimore said, rushing down the hall. “I’ve told you not to fetch the water. The pails are too heavy for you.”

When they entered the kitchen, Pentanimir looked at her with new eyes. Why he hadn’t noticed before, he couldn’t fathom. Against her wan complexion, the old bruising, burns, and scars were evident. Pentanimir grimaced, noting what appeared to be faint rope markings around her neck. Indeed, you’ve suffered, he thought. Such cruelty at the hands of those I’m to join. Gods, help me.

“How do you feel, Zeta?” Pentanimir asked.

“I’m fine, milord, and stronger than I look. I—I can complete my duties. Sir Danimore is kind, but I’ll do my work.”

“Don’t worry, Zeta. I’m not vexed, I’m concerned as is my brother.”

His eyes lowered, watching her caress her womb. He couldn’t help but picture Brahanu at that moment and their growing son.

“May I?” he asked, reaching out his hand.

Zeta staggered back a step, glancing from one to the other. She stared into their eyes, with the fear plainly in hers. When Danimore stepped forward, her breathing calmed, as did her thoughts. Slowly, she took up Pentanimir’s hand, resting it on her stomach.

“Oh!” she said. “Did you feel that? It jumped. Oh! There it is again.”

Pentanimir chuckled. “It moves at my touch. Brother, you must feel it.”

Danimore joined in his mirth as the babe continued to move.

“It’s a miracle,” Pentanimir said. “I’ve never experienced anything like it.” He backed away, sitting at the table. “Shouldn’t we have someone to tend you?”

“Hushar was caring for her at the citadel. If the Zaxson would allow the visit, I could retrieve her. I know they don’t care about the babe, but they might permit Hushar’s leave if our attendant needs care.”

“I’ll ask of it upon my visit. I know much about healing wounds and setting bones, but of babes, I know little and less.”

“Hushar’s always been kind to me,” Zeta said.

“Then, I’ll offer my gratitude to her as well. We don’t have a Nazilian healer that would treat you. Draizeyn should realize this truth and acquiesce to my request.”

“Thank you, milord.”

“It’s the least we can do, Zeta, you’re a part of this family now,” Pentanimir said. “Speaking of, are you well enough to visit the market?”

“Yes, sir, P—Pentanimir. Danimore took great care of me when I first arrived.”

“We need some grains, spices, meats, and a new cloak for you. There are other items that you’d know better than either of us. Feel free to purchase whatever is needed. Tell them that you’re on errand from House Benoist. This will ensure your treatment.”

“Brother, I can accompany Zeta to the market.”

“I need you to remain, Dani. I’ll be meeting with the Zaxson on the morrow, but I’d like to discuss the details with you first.”

“Zeta, I’ll hitch the cart and pull it around for you. You should ready yourself to leave.”

“Yes, milord,” she said, going to retrieve her cloak.

“Are you afraid to travel alone?” Danimore asked.

“I’ve gone to the market with Hushar, Micah, and Jahno before. We’re usually dealt with well. They know we’re on errands for our masters.”

“I’m not your master.”

“I know.” She smiled. “But my features and scars show me for what I am.”

“What you are is dear to me. The last time you were at the market, were you this large?”

“No. Does that make such a difference?”

“It could. Many might find your condition and insult. Children with a blended heritage are looked upon with less regard than humans. Just please, take care and keep your cloak around you.”

He nodded, leaning down to adjust her cloak. When he looked up, meeting her emerald-colored eyes, his face was but a kiss away from hers. Her eyes spoke more than any words could come close to conveying. He moistened his lips, slowly inching closer. That heat…that allure trickled over every part of his body. As she closed her eyes, leaning forward, he swallowed hard, regaining himself.

After a steadying breath, he cleared his throat, standing upright. “There, it—it’s well hidden now.”

“The cart is ready,” Pentanimir said. “The market is just straight up the main road. You can see the temple from here. Are you certain that you’re well enough?”

“You and your brother worry too much for me. In Noraa, I took care of both my father and uncle. The washing, cooking, market, cleaning, and even chopping wood sometimes fell to me. I did the same for the Nohek who gave me my lessons,” she said, smiling. “I’m used to hard work. It’s part of who I am.”

“If you’re certain, I’ll walk you out, but please do as I asked,” Danimore said, adjusting her cloak again.

“I’ll be careful. When I return, I’ll begin the evening meal. It’ll be something special, I promise.”

Danimore helped her into the cart, standing and watching her move away. He didn’t come back inside until Pentanimir called for him.

“Dani, she’ll be fine. The market is safe and in full view of the temple.”

“Yes, but there are those in the temple that would harm her, too.”

“Dani,” he sighed. “It’s obvious that you care for Zeta. Mayhaps you care more than you’re willing to admit.”

“No…I…I don’t know. She’s right, I think of her as frail. When I think of what they did to her, I get angry. She’s such a sweet and loving young girl,” Danimore said, meeting his eyes. “Do you know what she said when I asked if she wanted to return home?”

“She said that she’d rather her father think her dead than know that she was a captive in Nazil. Are we seen as such monsters to the humans?”

Pentanimir listened, pouring some honey mead in their cups. He thought about the first he’d met Brahanu and her reaction to him.

“Dani, I’ve traveled the lands and met many different peoples. The humans are wise to fear us. The first time that I had a similar experience, I felt much as you. Now, I must accept it for what it is. We are Nazilian: ghosts in the darkness. We take what we choose no matter the cost. We violate what or who we choose, no matter who they are or were. We make them what we want them to be, not because we have the right to do so, but because we have the power to do so. It isn’t what we choose, Brother, it’s what we are.”

“It’s not what I am. I’m no monster.”

“Dani, sit. This is about Zeta, is it not?”

“Yes, and no. She might’ve opened my eyes, but no. It’s just seeing what I saw, Pentanimir. She’s pregnant. Not because she chose it, but because it was forced upon her in the most sadistic way. Even some dark slave was forced to do the same because of his—his enormous member. Draizeyn and Daracus enjoyed watching her suffer as he violated her. You’ve seen Zeta. Her build is that of a child. Even though she’s reached womanhood, her body barely shows sign of it. How could anyone claiming honor take such innocence?

“When I first saw her, she could barely move. I had to carry her to Hushar for treatment after begging Daracus for permission.” He paused, regaining his composure.

“I’m not weak, Pentanimir. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. Draizeyn and Daracus spoke of her as filth and a whore. They planned the slaughter of her babe right there in front of me. How did we turn into such monsters? This isn’t the Nazil of our father.”

“Dani, you’re not weak, and what happened to Zeta isn’t honorable. I honestly believe that you both might care for each other more than you realize. I see how you look at each other. Mayhaps you suppress your feelings due to her ill treatment. But you’re not them. Your heart isn’t weak; it’s strong. Those you keep within it are blessed by that strength. I only need to look at you to know that she’s won your heart.”

“I care for her, yes, but not like that. Zeta loves what I’ve done for her. She misses her promised and wants to be with him. My arms comfort her when thoughts of him overwhelm. She’s only beginning to trust me, Brother. I won’t sabotage her healing by complicating it with such thoughts.”

“Your arms might soothe her now, but soon that may not be enough. She might miss her promised, but she cares for you.”

Danimore sighed. “She’s come to my bed before.”

“You told me that you didn’t lay with her.”

“No, we’ve never been intimate, but we’ve lain together.”

“And did nothing?”

“She thought that it was payment for her clothing and service. That isn’t love. However, we shared my bed that night. If not for your return, we’d still sleep together. It’s a comfort for her…and me as well.”

“My return? Why should that stop you?”

“I won’t dishonor you, Brother.”

“Dani, I’m not Uncle. If this is your desire, let no one keep you from it. But soon, mere comfort might lead to passion. It’s possible that Zeta would want more from you. Is that something that you even want to consider?”

Danimore leaned back, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I can’t, I don’t want to think about it, truly. I’ve never…I don’t know, Pentanimir. It’s not right to do so, and I’d prefer to save my seed for my wife. I’ll not use Zeta or any woman in this fashion. I can wait.”

“And you will, Dani. This is but one reason why you’re the stronger brother. Father saw that strength in you and admired it as I do.”

“We admire each other.”

When the front door opened, they turned, seeing Zeta entering with a large sack.

“Zeta, you shouldn’t be carrying that,” Danimore said. “When will you heed my words? Is there much more in the cart?”

“Oh yes,” Zeta said. “I was able to purchase everything that you requested and more. I knew that you’d need salted meats and provisions for your journey. They had fresh sweepers and soaps, too. There’s honey and wine and berries and oh so many things!” She beamed. “I purchased some sugar. I’m going to make you a cake before you take leave. It’ll be delicious, I promise.”

They chuckled, enjoying her exuberance. “It’s a fine idea, Zeta. Now, let Pentanimir and me empty the cart. You can organize what we bring.”

“As you wish.” Once they moved to the door, her humming made them pause.

“She’s a delightful young woman, Dani. I understand why you’ve grown fond of her.”

“She’s filled a part of me that I didn’t know was empty.”

“Then we mustn’t allow anyone to take that feeling from either of you. We’ll speak more of your feelings and hers. You might have a change of mind. In any case, we’ll find a way.”

“It’s past time that we discussed this, Hosdaq,” Vot said. “We’re not insinuating that this is a simple matter, quite the opposite. But the more you delay, the more difficult this becomes. Wosen’s capricious behaviors could inevitably endanger this entire village.”

Hosdaq sat silent, his chin resting on balled fist. His usually neat hair hung loose and unkempt with tinges of debris strewn throughout. The evidence of sleepless nights showed in the dark, puffy bags encircling his eyes. The vigor he’d expressed in their last meeting was replaced by ambivalence and heartache.

“Vot,” Hosdaq’s distraught voice whispered. “I’m not ignorant of what we face. We, all of us, have tried to reach my son. He’s grown defiant and distrustful of our accounting of Hyorin. Mayhaps his relationship with Pentanimir has fueled this. He envisions all of Nazil in their First Chosen.” Hosdaq sighed, looking up at the Elders. “What am I to do? My son is proud of his heritage, and this, too, makes me proud. How am I supposed to convince him that the very people he worships would’ve slit his throat at birth?”

“Hosdaq, your wife was very dear to me,” Huname said. “When we lost her, I almost didn’t recover. You both left your homes to begin a new life here, and Esme loved you and Wosen with all of her heart. When she birthed a son for you, it was the happiest anyone had ever seen her. It pains me that each time Wosen denies his humanity, he’s denying his mother.” She rested a hand atop his. “It’s normal for him to want to be like you. You’re a strong and honorable man, Hosdaq. But he isn’t only Nazilian, he’s human, too.”

“She’s right,” added Olam. “As Wosen ages, he detaches more from his humanity. Soon, he’ll come to loathe and reject it outright. When he appeared in my vision, it was disjointed, but one image remains unchanged. If you can’t reach him, I fear the worst.”

“No one is saying that,” Vot said. “Not everyone from Nazil is in allegiance with their Zaxson. If this were so, Bandari wouldn’t exist. There are many Nazilians who reside here, and Pentanimir moves freely about our village. Would this be allowed if we feared all Nazilians? We are, none of us the same. It’s those differences that have helped us grow. However, Wosen is rejecting half of who he is. He refuses to accept who he is and how that heritage would affect him if he went to Nazil. You can’t ignore this anymore.”

“Ultimately, this lies in your hands, Hosdaq,” Emet said. “Even Kuhani counseled you against assigning such greatness to the Chosen. Children often stray toward those very things that they feel they’re denied. You speak of the glory of the city, yet nothing about the horrors that are also found there. Nothing we have here could compare with the stories that you’ve told.”

“I was attempting to shield him from the atrocities of Nazil,” Hosdaq said, his voice raising. “I didn’t want Wosen to think that all Nazilians were savage and brutal. I never lied to him. He knows why his mother and I couldn’t live in Nazil. This just furthered his curiosity. To him, his mother was the cause. He believes that they’d accept him as my son.”

Emet sighed. “That’s all the more reason to dissuade him from such thoughts. I just pray that he hasn’t moved so far beyond reason that you can’t reach him.”

“Indeed,” Olam said. “And what about his sister? Have you spoken to Malkia? She appears withdrawn of late. She’s burdened enough to know that her mother died giving birth to her.”

“I don’t blame her for that,” Hosdaq nearly shouted.

“We don’t blame Malkia either,” Olam said. “Malkia has spoken of her own guilt. We didn’t impart this to her; Wosen has placed that blame at her feet.”

“Enough!” Hosdaq slammed a hand on the table. “You speak as if all the problems in Bandari are as a result of my son. He loves his sister and places no blame on her for what happened to their mother. He was a boy when Esme was taken from us.”

Huname tried to grasp his hand, but he pulled away. “Hosdaq, be calm. You’re allowing your anger to cloud your mind. We’re not your enemy. Some truths are difficult to hear, but ignoring them doesn’t change or resolve the issue.”

Hosdaq’s chest heaved, the trepidation and anguish showing in his every inflection.

“What we must contend with now is a young man confused,” she continued. “If we don’t act, he’ll no doubt find his way to Nazil. I don’t need to expound on the consequences if this happens.”

With that, Hosdaq’s thoughts turned to their first meeting. The grief that was in Huname’s eyes that night was present in them now. Bandari was the only place that had brought peace for so many. He couldn’t allow his son to undermine all that they’d accomplished.

“You have the right of it, Huname,” Hosdaq said. “I don’t know what to do. Wosen isn’t the son that we all raised. Daily he asks of Nazil, of training, of becoming a Chosen as Pentanimir is, and I was. Even though I’ve warned him in the past, his ambition overrules my words. What am I to do that I haven’t done?”

“Tell him the truth,” Olam said. “If Wosen is allowed to meet the pale serpent from the vision, the consequences will be dire. We’ll be consumed by it. In turn, it’ll slither about his neck as a garrote, squeezing the life from him. He must be told. Not only for Bandari, but to save himself.”

Hosdaq stood, turning away from them. After several sobering breaths, he lifted his head, hoping that he could convey his thoughts without being overcome by his emotion. “I’ll speak with Wosen and pray that he heeds my words. Albeit, I take no comfort in those prayers. His mind is lost, and I must try to help him reclaim it.”

“We’re not only facing an invasion from Nazil, but the catalyst of that invasion might’ve been revealed,” Vot said. “It’s time to take a more proactive stance and find a new home for Bandari.”

“But how can we make such an audacious move without alerting Wosen?” Olam asked.

“Aizen and Ahni have reached Noraa safely. Upon their return, they’ll travel southwest toward the Animus Wood.”

“To what end?” Emet asked.

“We can’t sit idle debating whether Draizeyn will attack. Whether it’s by force or building their new city, they’re coming. Bandari’s location has kept us hidden from Nazil. However, it’s also given us few avenues for relocation. Traversing the mountains or Raphar isn’t an option. But we can travel the narrow pass between the Libero and Raphar, leading to the Animus Wood.”

“No one travels to the wood due to the dangers said to reside there. Can we take such a risk?” Emet asked.

“You speak of tales,” Vot said. “Until someone seeks the answer, only questions remain. Mayhaps the Nazilians began such tales to keep us from the wood. We no longer have an option. To protect our people, we must abandon our home.”

“What about the western isle?” Emet asked. “We could construct larger boats or at least have a few smaller ones make the attempt. It isn’t that distant. Surely, it could be reached within seven suns. This could be a place for us.”

The Elders exchanged a look. The western isle sat distant in the Libero, appearing more an expanse of dense trees than anything else. They’d always noticed the patch of greenery amongst the vast waters, but never endeavored to journey there. With the smaller boats and uncertain seas, the risk was greater than their curiosity.

“No,” Vot finally answered. “We haven’t the time or the men to spare for such a quest. Aizen and Ahni will arrive soon with a detailed report. I pray that this path is the correct one.”

“If Wosen learns about our plan, wouldn’t he question?” Olam asked.

“He might, but it’s of little matter,” Vot said. “Hosdaq needn’t ready his home as we coordinate the rest of the village. Saifu and Kuhani could organize the dawa and temple as we prepare the rest. Once everything is organized, it’ll be easy to load once we’re prepared to move.”

Emet nodded. “Yes, if we work together, the transition shouldn’t take long.” He paused, glancing around the hall. “It’ll be difficult to leave Bandari. We were blessed to find such a place, Elder Vot. Surely, we’ll not find another like this.”

Huname sighed wistfully. “No, there’ll never be another like this, but Bandari is a part of each of us. It’s not the location that makes a home, it’s those who reside there.”

“Elders, we should return to our homes,” Vot said. “On the morrow, I’ll speak with Saifu and Kuhani, and Huname will assign families to each of you. They’ll be told to prepare to leave, but not when or where we’re traveling. That information shall remain with this council to ensure our safety.”

“You are wise, Elder,” Olam said. “Wosen knows that we’ve been planning a move ahead of the Nazilians impending attack. He wouldn’t suspect anything if everyone prepares for that move.”

“The boy is a fool,” Emet said. “Both my brother and I are half-Nazilian, just as he. He’s ignorant of the evils that rule Nazil, yet labels us cowards for protecting our families. Had it not been for the home that he loathes, he would’ve never been allowed to live. Yet he praises them and shuns those who’ve loved and nurtured him.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Olam said. “Had his mother survived, mayhaps things would’ve been different. Hosdaq did what he thought was best. No one could’ve foreseen this change in Wosen.”

“No, but it’s Hosdaq’s pride that caused this rift,” Vot said. “I feel that if he could, he’d return to Nazil.”

“That may be so,” Huname said, taking his hand. “But choices can’t be unmade. My heart aches for what Hosdaq faces, but we can’t allow one man to rule the future of the entire village. Wosen may be lost, but Bandari can be protected.”

Leaves littered the ground as their cart moved down the rutted path. The seasons were changing, enhancing the beauty of the road. Although Brahanu was relieved with being home, she was afraid as well. It wasn’t merely what she needed to reveal to Itai, it was accepting what she’d done, and the ramifications left to suffer.

She hugged Itai’s arm, snuggling closer to him. She’d never tired of such closeness, or smelling the differing wood scents pervading his clothes. She’d never told him that, but feeling his warmth and smelling him beside her, was more comforting than anything else.

She smiled, inhaling deeper.

“What are you thinking about, Brahanu?”

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh? And what is it that you’re thinking of me?”

“So many things, Itai. I remember when we were young and used to play together. We were always close. Father used to worry about my playing with a boy,” Brahanu giggled. “He didn’t think it was proper for me to do so. That’s when mother started taking me with her to visit other young ladies. Oh, how I hated it.”

Itai’s laughter joined hers at the memory. “I recall it as well. My papa tried to keep me away from you, you know? He thought that your father’s position was too high for me to consort with his daughter. He didn’t want to anger your family.”

“My father’s position? You know we don’t believe in such nonsense. Father might be forced to bear his title, but he refuses to behave in such a way. We are the same, you and I.”

“That may be his title, but that’s not who he is,” she said, turning to look at him. “Father welcomed you and many others to join the Nohek’s lessons. He still trains our sentries and anyone interested in properly wielding a sword. He could leave it to Aiden, but he doesn’t want anyone willing to learn to be left out.”

“Aye, he does. I still have bruises and scars that tell of your father’s training!”

Itai’s head leaned back, a hearty laugh escaping his lips. Brahanu joined in his mirth for a moment, but her laughter soon faded, her mind returning to what she needed to reveal.

“Itai, may I speak with you?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now, Brahanu?” He chuckled.

When she didn’t respond, he noticed her solemn expression, and slowed the horse’s pace.

“Brahanu, it was only a jest. I didn’t mean to—”

“It isn’t that, Itai. It’s—it’s something far more serious. I’d like to talk with you alone…before we return to Cazaal. You’ve always been patient with me, even now. I’ve always loved that about you, you know?” she said, smiling wistfully. “But there’s more that I need to say about my journey, and I’m uncertain how to do so.”

His brow creased. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. You’re home with me now and that’s all that matters, Brahanu. The gods placed the right people in your path and I’m thankful.”

“I’m thankful, too. There were times that I didn’t think I’d ever see you or my family again. So many things went through my mind that night.

“The storm arose from nowhere, it seemed. The sun disappeared, leaving darkening clouds in its place. I moved to turn, to return to Cazaal, but…but…something,” she said, looking down at the healed scars on her hands. “It was the lightning. That’s what frightened him. Ared had never behaved so, and I thought that we’d both be hurt. I couldn’t control him and…and he wouldn’t respond to me. You know Ared, I’ve had him since his birth.

“The pain…there was so much pain. Once the reins broke, I couldn’t hold on anymore. My hands were slick with blood, clutching at the remnants left behind. I remember falling and waking up in pain. I was surrounded by darkness and the water, it was so cold. I thought that I’d never be warm again after waking in the pool.”

Itai steered the cart to the side of the road, draping an arm around her. “You don’t need to explain any of this to me, Brahanu. I don’t want you to suffer the memory. Please, there’s no need.”

“What am I to know that your family can’t?”

Brahanu took a deep breath, interlacing their fingers. Tears lined her eyes as she gazed up into his.

“You have no need of tears now. I’m here with you; you’re home,” Itai said.

“Yes, I’m home, but it wouldn’t be so without the help that I received.”

“I’m grateful for all that they did for you. Aizen and his brother are honorable men.”

“They are, but Aizen and Ahni weren’t the first to assist me.”

“Surely, you had help from others—”

“Itai, please,” she said, louder than she intended. “Forgive me. I need to tell you something while I have the courage. Why won’t you allow it?”

“No. Forgive me. I don’t want to hinder you, yet fear what you might say.”

“Itai, when I was lost, I—I didn’t think I’d ever be home again. Then, there was this light, this beacon guiding me to safety. I thought the gods were leading me back to Cazaal. But it wasn’t home. It wasn’t the light from our tower.”

“A beacon? Where did you find yourself, Brahanu?”

“They—they were the watch fires of Nazil.”

“No, Brahanu, please. It can’t be! What happened to you? Are you all right? By the gods, what did they do to you?”

“I wasn’t hurt; he didn’t hurt me. When I saw him, truly saw him, I fought against him. I wasn’t going to allow him to take me. But he hid me near their gates, and brought herbs and warm clothes. He guided me to Aizen’s family so that they could bring me back to you.”

“He?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “There must be more. Nazilians aren’t known for their generosity. What do we owe him for your safe passage?”

“I thought the same in the beginning, but it wasn’t so. He only wanted to help me, Itai, truly. Had I believed him, I wouldn’t feel like I do now.”

“I don’t understand. If he’s not demanding a ransom, why did he help you?”

“I asked him the same, and didn’t believe his answer. But he spoke true; he’s not like their Zaxson. We condemn all the Nazilians for the evils of a few. He’s not like them, Itai.”

“His name is Pentanimir, and he’s their First Chosen. He knows and respects many humans.” She paused, lowering her gaze.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, Itai. It was difficult in the beginning because I couldn’t let you learn about my feelings. Nonetheless, you’ve been the only man that I’ve ever wanted to spend my life with. I used to dream of the day that we’d wed, and the life we’d build together. For—for the first time since I fell in love with you, I’m unsure of—” She shook her head, wiping her tears away.

“What aren’t you sure of, Brahanu? What happened?”

“I’m afraid that you’ll no longer want me for your wife. I know that you love me as I do you, but you might not want me as I am. Not anymore.”

Itai gently cupped her chin, lifting her face to his. “Why? Why wouldn’t I want to marry you? From the very beginning, there’s only been you. I’ve worked to build a home for us, and saved what I could to buy the silks you love. If I didn’t want to marry you, why would I work so hard to please you? I don’t care what happened, Brahanu, I love you. You’re going to be my wife, only mine. You’re home with me now, and I won’t let you leave again, not without me,” he said, drawing her in for a kiss. He held her close, fighting the emotions welling inside of him.

“You’re the only man I’d want as my husband, and I’m warmed by your words. But you offer them without knowing everything.”

“Look at me, Brahanu. Look at me and tell me if I truly need to know anything else? Can’t this be enough? I don’t care about anything that happened before this very moment. Nothing matters except the love that we share and the life ahead of us. I love you. I am in love with you. Please, isn’t that enough?”

“In any other circumstance, it would be. I love you too much, and I won’t deceive or dishonor you. You deserve a wonderful wife. And—and one who is yet maiden.”

Itai blanched, contorting in both confusion and anguish all at once. When he reasoned through her words, his eyes widened, as he leaned away from her, shaking his head.

Brahanu reached out to him, and he jerked back, leaping down from the cart. He paced, his fingers clutching tuffs of his hair while he muttered curses.

“Why, Brahanu? How could you do this? Is my love not enough for you? Why?” he shouted, lifting a branch from the ground, slamming it against a tree. He yelled again, sending splinters flying through the air as he battered the branch to nothing.

“I’m sorry, Itai,” she shrieked between sobs. Tossing her hands up, she slid down from the cart to avoid the wooden shards flying toward her. “I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

She cried out, twisting her ankle, and plummeting to the ground. Itai ran to the side of the cart, consumed with grief and rage.

“Please don’t hurt me, Itai. I love you, only you. I didn’t know…I didn’t understand.” She cried, burying her face in her hands as he reached down to her.

Itai lifted her up gently, setting her on the bench. As he met her eyes, he could no longer stop the tears from falling from his. Walking away from the cart, he stood motionless, looking down the long path, trying to remain upright on weakened knees. He couldn’t think, and the stabs of heartache threatened to consume him.

After wiping his face, he took several deep breaths, expelling them slowly. He couldn’t look at her, not now. He wondered if he ever could again. Could he ever look at her and not see him?

“I would never hurt you,” Itai said, barely over a whisper, climbing into the cart. “I don’t ever want you to fear me, Brahanu. I love you still, and more than yesterday,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I don’t deserve your love, not after what I’ve done.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were afraid and manipulated by this…this ghost. You are for me, Brahanu, and I am yours. Nothing or no one will ever change that. Nothing.” He gripped the reins, releasing the break. “I want to wed now. I’ve waited long enough to have you as my wife, and I’ll wait no longer. No one will ever know what you just told me. It’s for us alone, and we’ll wipe it from our memories. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“But Itai. There’s more. I—”

“I don’t want to hear anything else, Brahanu.”

“Please, Itai. I must tell you the rest of it. An Elder named Olam—”

“I said no more!” His deep voice echoed around them, causing Brahanu to shrink away. He sighed, taking up her hand. “I don’t care about anything else. Nothing else matters but right now. Do you understand? You’re going to be my wife, mine. If your love remains for me, you’ll say no more.”

Brahanu only nodded, continuing to cry.

“This ghost of Nazil has no place in our lives, and I won’t allow his evils to take from our happiness. Do you understand?”

Without another word, he flicked his wrist, moving the cart forward. The road appeared less colorful and vibrant as it once did. Gradations of grey filled not only the skies, but also their hearts.

Zeta placed the last dish on the shelf, wiping her hands on her apron. They’d shared a nice dinner before Pentanimir left for duty. She enjoyed the brothers’ company, finally feeling some of her humanity returning to her. Smiling reflectively, she looked around at the lavish home that she’d inherited. It did feel like a home, regardless of her classification. Danimore and Pentanimir didn’t consider her their property, and that made all the difference. Even so, she was still conflicted. The myriad emotions and memories besetting her were debilitating some days. At times, she could feel the violations as plainly as she did when they were inflicted upon her. Not this day. She felt herself again, if even for a short while.

Zeta took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she heard the rear door close, she sat at the table, smoothing her long, red hair. An honest smile found her face when thoughts of Danimore purged the violations from her mind. She couldn’t understand the feelings that he evoked. Not since her time with Radich did any man cause such a feeling within her. It was different, but no less real. That perplexed her even more. After being treated so cruelly, how could she allow herself to care about him?

“Zeta?” Danimore called from the corridor. “Would you like water for a bath?”

“Uhm…yes, thank you. I’ll add some wood to the fire.”

Danimore entered the kitchen and hooked two large caldrons over the fire. After pouring water in both, he filled the pail again. “I’ll boil a few more caldrons and fill the tub for you.”

“It’ll be nice to soak for a while,” she said. “My feet and back ache so.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Zeta? You do too much trying to make everything perfect for my brother and me. We need little. You must rest and take care.”

“I only do what needs doing. Someone has to make sure that you have a hot meal and clean clothes.” She smiled. “Besides, I enjoy taking care of you. You’ve done so much for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I don’t want you to attempt too much. There’s no rush to clean and wash. Rest in between your chores and put your feet up. You can lay down if necessary. My friend Nakaris’ wife used to do the same when she was pregnant.”

The water began to boil, and Danimore grabbed some cloth, lifting a caldron from the hook. “I’ll pour this one and start another. Go ready yourself, it won’t be long. I put some oil on the shelf in your chamber. Bring that to the tub and it’ll help relax you.”

He boiled several caldrons of water, filling the tub. After testing the temperature, he added a small pail of cool water, testing it again. When he was certain that the temperature was perfect, he called for Zeta.

His mouth gaped when she entered the room. Zeta stood in the entryway, holding her arm across her chest. Other than the thin wrap around her waist, she was naked. His eyes eagerly searched up and down, taking in all of her. She’s beautiful , he thought, his eyes resting on the thick, red hair easily visible through the cloth.

“I brought the oil,” Zeta said.

“Yes, well—well, good, thank you,” he stammered, averting his eyes. After wiping the sweat dotting his brow, he took the bottle, adding a few drops to her water.

“That smells divine,” she said. “What is it?” As she approached, her hand left her chest, exposing what lay beneath. His eyes were fixed, and his body responded immediately.

“It’s the oil of various flowers,” he said, twisting away to hide his arousal. “After it’s extracted, I mix in some naja and bits of cedar for several suns. Then, I add a stick of cinnamon and leave it sit. When it’s ready, I strain it into a bottle. Only a small portion is needed to produce such an aroma.”

“It’s wonderful, Danimore. How did you learn to do this?”

He extended out his hand, helping her into the tub. “I—I learnt the method from Mithu. She would produce the most fragrant oils that my mother loved. Now, I use my favorite flowers and woods to do the same.”

Zeta inhaled again, laying back in the tub and closing her eyes. Danimore stared at her, taking in her full beauty. It was the first time that he’d truly seen all of her.

“Zeta, I’ll leave you now to enjoy your bath. Please let me know when you’re finished.”

“Wait, Danimore, please. You don’t have to leave?” She sat up then, the oils causing her body to shimmer beneath the torchlight.

“I—I—it’s not proper to be here while you bathe, Zeta.”

“All shyness has left me. When I first arrived in Nazil, I wasn’t allowed clothes. The more I begged, the more they took away, until I was left with nothing. They meant to take everything from me, and my body most of all. But you’ve given it back, and I can decide who I wish to share it with. The only person that I’d want is you, Danimore.”

He almost smiled. Thoughts of his conversation with Pentanimir replayed in his mind. He’d been right, not only about his feelings, but hers, too. His body urged him to respond, but his mind and heart wouldn’t allow it. Danimore refused to be yet another Nazilian to receive pleasure from her, no matter how much he yearned for their closeness.

“I shouldn’t be with you when you’re naked,” he said. “I’ll help with your bath, but I won’t linger. You need privacy.”

“If you’re going to help with my bath, can you wash my back?” she asked, handing him the brush.

He should have spoken differently, but it was too late.

“All right, I’ll help with your bath, but that’s it. Once it’s done, I’ll leave you to relax.”

Zeta nodded, lowering back to the tub. He lathered the brush thoroughly, noticing the tremble in his hands as he did so. After another sobering breath, he leaned forward, gliding it over her back. Zeta’s subsequent moan caused him to jerk away.

“Danimore, what’s wrong?”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. It was soothing.”

“Well, let me know if I scrub too hard. I’m not use to washing such delicate skin.”

“It feels wonderful,” she said, closing her eyes again.

Danimore observed Zeta closely as he glided the brush across her back. Her soft sounds and subtle movements were stimulating, no matter how hard he tried not to notice. As the brush slowed, his other hand raised to her back. His eyes closed then, his fingertips tickling her supple skin. Danimore lowered the brush, using only his hands. They slid over her shoulders, gently massaging as they went. Her back arched when his hands moved lower, tracing down her spine, before gliding in a circle and back up again.

Licking the dryness from his lips, he imagined her taste, her warmth, and every part of her body that he longed to discover. Those visions consumed him as his fingers continued to work, her sounds and motions growing with each rotation of his hands.

“I—I’m going to get a tunic for you,” he said. “Your water seems to have grown cold.”

This time, she did nothing to stop him. Zeta watched him flee the room, leaning back in the tub. As much as she wanted him to stay, she didn’t want him to think of her as a whore. She desired more from him, and she’d wait until he shared her feelings.

Zeta sighed, massaging her abdomen. When her babe began to wriggle, she giggled, continuing the motion.

“Is everything all right?” Danimore asked.

“Come, give me your hand,” she said, reaching out to him. Zeta smiled, resting his hand on her abdomen. As she moved it over her stomach, the babe kicked, wiggling beneath his hand. Danimore chuckled, lowering to his knees. Soon, her nakedness faded from his mind, and only the joy of this experience remained.

“He seems an active boy,” Danimore said.

“He? Am I to have a son?” Her giggle made his smile broaden. He loved to hear her laugh, and the way her entire face lit up when she smiled.

“He just seems a boy to me. It won’t be known until it is, but he’s a strong one, that’s for sure.”

“I’d like to have a son. A strong, handsome, and kind son, just like you.”

“Let me help you from the tub,” he said, unable to mask his reddening cheeks. “The oils make things slippery, and I don’t want you to fall.”

Holding up the cloth with one hand, he gripped her arm with the other, turning his head as she rose. “There.”

The wet cloth clung to every curve and protrusion, hiding little of the beauty that lay beneath. When he took a step back, Zeta moved closer, not allowing him to leave. She drew him into her, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Will you just hold me for a moment, please, just hold me,” she pled, looking up at him.

Danimore gazed into her eyes. So beautiful…so innocent , he thought, leaning down to her. He hesitated for a moment and she reached up, pulling him down to meet her lips. That simple touch left waves of shared pleasure in its wake. He kissed her again, whimpering against her lips. No other sensation had been as prevalent, awakening parts of his heart and body that he didn’t know existed.

Zeta pushed back gently, allowing the cloth to drift to the floor. “I want to share myself with only you, Dani. Does my body displease you?”

He searched every inch of her, feeling an eruption of heat pulsating throughout his entire body. “No,” he breathed, kissing her again. “Every part of you excites me.”

Lowering to his knees, he kissed down her neck, chest, and lower. His movements were timid at first, but once he tasted her sweetness, he hungrily continued until her trembling legs and shriek caused him to stop.

“Did I hurt you?”

Zeta gazed down, trying to catch her breath. “No, no, Dani. I’ve never felt such pleasure. I didn’t want it to end.”

“It’s not ending,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “It’s only beginning.”

The warmth of the eternal fire did little to ease the chill consuming Hosdaq. He stared into the orange and yellow flares, swaying in the night wind. Each eruption was different, and yet, they were the same. He gazed into the symbolic fire, searching the recesses of his mind for answers to questions that he hadn’t even considered. Or, had he merely ignored the truths before him, clutching to a memory or ideal of what he wished was reality?

Closing his eyes, he offered a silent prayer. He needed not only guidance, but also strength. He was but a shell of what he used to be, a man pretending to live who’d died years past. At least, he felt that way. The best of what he was had been buried alongside his wife, and only remnants of the whole remained.

His heart ached when he thought about Wosen. That pain, that suffering were lingering vestiges of errors that he’d committed. Although he attempted to appear composed to the Bandarians, he’d grown weary.

Hosdaq smiled wistfully, envisioning his wife. He couldn’t help but wonder how much better their life would be had she lived.

“I miss you, Esme,” Hosdaq whispered. “Our children need you, and I need you most of all. I miss your arms around me and the strength of your love. I need you, my wife,” he said, taking a steadying breath, and moving toward his home.

As he opened the door, he paused, seeing Wosen in the middle of the room, thrusting with his sword. Sweat beaded his brow as he lunged, swiping out at his imaginary opponent. Hosdaq grimaced, observing his son’s clumsy movements while completing his practice routine. He wished that he could instruct him more on the proper use of his sword, but he dared not help further his hopeless pursuit. He continued to watch until Wosen noticed him in the room. He grabbed up a wineskin from the table, taking a long drink.

“I’ve been training,” Wosen said. “Soon I’ll be able to match Pentanimir’s prowess.”

After wiping down his sword and replacing it on the stand, he took another drink. “Mayhaps we can train together on the morrow. It’s been long since we’ve sparred.”

“Firstly, you must master the bow,” Hosdaq said. “Your eye is keen, and we have much need of that skill. I promise to increase our sparring soon.”

“No. That’s what you always say. I’m the best archer in the village and still you won’t train me. A real Chosen doesn’t use the bow. The lower guards are tasked with such weapons. How can I earn my Xtabyren if I’m never allowed to even touch it? That’s the weapon of a Chosen, not some damn bow.”

“The Xtabyren requires elite training and discipline for a man to be even considered worthy of it. It isn’t a weapon that’s given, it’s earned, just as all things of great value are. Mastery of the bow and sword are a necessary first step before such consideration. After you’ve proven your proficiency, then you’re honored with the Xtabyren. Even then, everyone who completes the challenges don’t earn one. If your skill doesn’t match your master, the weapon is awarded to another. It takes many years to reach this level, Wosen. Your discipline must match your prowess, or you’d still be rejected. You must be patient and earn that which you seek.”

“Earn? How can I earn anything when I’m stuck here? I’ll never be able to prove my worth if I can’t leave this place.”

“We’ve spoken about this numerous times, and you know the why of it. It’s not safe for you to leave the village. What if you’re discovered? Everyone here would be in jeopardy. Is that what you truly want?”

“What I want is to be like you, Father. You are of Nazil. Our people are there. Why should we rot here? The Nazilians are no threat to us, it was mother they wouldn’t accept.”

Hosdaq stood, desperately trying to remain composed. “Don’t you ever speak about your mother in such a way. She loved you more than herself. It was the Nazilians who wouldn’t accept her, or any of us, not together. If it were possible, we would’ve lived in the white city. They don’t allow such bonds: not then and certainly not now.”

“I’m not speaking ill of mother, I’m only telling the truth. Why do you speak of our people as though they’re in the wrong? Isn’t it fair for them to decide whom they’ll allow among them? It is their city, Father, our city. Why can’t we go to Nazil together? I want to see the Kadul , the citadel, and the temple, to see all our home. Why won’t you permit it?”

Hosdaq took a deep breath, sitting beside him. The ictus of his heart pulsed in his ears as he met Wosen’s eyes. He wanted to share everything with him, and it pained him that he couldn’t. He’d walk proudly through the Nazilian gates with his son at his side. But that could never be, and he didn’t know how to make Wosen understand.

“If that were possible, I would’ve done so long ago. You’re my son, Wosen, my heir, and I’m prouder of you now than when first you were born. It pains me to be unable to give you what you desire, what we both desire. But hear me when I tell you: as long as Draizeyn rules Nazil, we can’t enter the city.”

“Why not? What am I supposed to be if I’m forced to remain here? A herder. Maybe a fisherman. No, I’ll bake bread like some…some old woman. That might be what you’ve lowered to, but it’s not a life that I choose. I shouldn’t have to suffer because you’ve grown soft and don’t want to be among men.”

Hosdaq’s face darkened. His hand shot out, delivering a slap that nearly caused Wosen to topple off the stool. He careened into the table, scattering items upon the floor. Wosen’s eyes narrowed, nursing his stinging cheek.

“Father?” Malkia said, clutching her doll. “Is everything all right?”

Wosen glared over at her, all his anger boiling to the surface as he met her pale eyes, infuriated that Malkia looked fully Nazilian whereas he didn’t. That truth ate at him like a festering disease, eroding portions of his soul and hardening his heart.

“Get out of here,” he spat. “You don’t understand anything! You’re nothing but a human, just like the rest of them.”

“Wosen!” Hosdaq snapped. “Have you lost your wits? You’d better hold your tongue and temper your tone,” he said, lifting Malkia from the floor. Hosdaq forced a smile, kissing her nose. “Pay no mind to your brother, little one. He’s angry at only me, not you. You go back to bed now, and I’ll come later to tuck you in and tend the fire.”

“Father, Wosen scares me,” she whispered. “You won’t let him hurt me, will you?”

Hosdaq fought against the maelstrom of emotions assailing every part of him. He smiled again, looking into her eyes. More than ever, he noticed Esme’s features. Malkia looked Nazilian, but had her mother’s face. He couldn’t keep his voice from cracking as he spoke to her. “No one will ever hurt you while I’m here, I promise. Now, off to bed. Aren’t you supposed to help with the morning meal?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “Osmara’s gonna let me knead the dough if I wash real good.”

“Well, you need to sleep now so that you can help,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’ll even take you to the spring to ensure you’re extra clean.”

“The spring? Really?”

Her smile lifted some of the gloom besetting him. “Yes, my little one. Now, off to bed. I love you.”

Hosdaq didn’t turn until she’d disappeared around the corner. The smile he wore quickly faded as he looked over at Wosen. “What in seven hells is wrong with you? Malkia loves you and misses the closeness you used to share. What’s happened to you?”

Wosen ignored his father, turning and lifting the wineskin again. When he raised it to his lips, Hosdaq snatched it away.

“How dare you show your back to me,” he said, gripping Wosen’s arm. “If there’s a problem, I’m willing to listen. But you’ll not disrespect Malkia or me. Now sit down and speak your mind.”

Wosen yanked away, plopping down on the stool. He glared over at his father, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If you have words, you’d better speak them now.”

“It won’t make any difference,” Wosen said. “You’ll only make another excuse why you won’t take me to Nazil.”

“I’m telling you the truth, why don’t you understand that? Humans aren’t permitted to live in Nazil. The only ones that you’ll find are slaves that they’ve captured.”

“I’m NOT human! I’m blood of your blood! I’m Nazilian.”

“Speak softly,” Hosdaq warned, glancing down the corridor. “You’re not ignorant of your parentage, Wosen. You are a son of Nazil, but you’re also one of Hyorin. Your mother wasn’t Nazilian, and you resemble her. Only your eyes are like mine, and that alone could cause your capture. Do you know what they’ll do to you? They’ll—” He stopped, shaking his head.

“Wosen, I’m sorry, but Nazil won’t have you. I loathe that truth, but you need to understand that. Why do you refuse to accept it?”

“How would you know what Nazil will do? You tucked your tail and ran from there decades ago. Things change. Mayhaps you could see that if you weren’t hiding in Bandari. Pentanimir is here now and proves that their ways are different. He’s a man of honor…a true man of Nazil.”

“Is it your intent to anger me? Trust when I say: I’ve lost none of my fire. Your tongue has served you ill this night.”

“Did I lie?” Wosen said, defiantly. “Didn’t you flee Nazil to hide here?”

Hosdaq clenched his fist, struggling to stay his hand. “You’re ignorant of many things, but the fault is mine. I shielded you from too much in an effort to protect you. I wanted you to embrace your Nazilian heritage and not run from it. That was my error, and I’ll remedy that now.”

“Protect me? I don’t need your protection. I’m a man grown. I can protect myself.”

“As you say. You’ll have the truth of it. Firstly, I’ve always been proud to be Nazilian. We are, some of us, a great people. Being a Chosen was an honor that I’ll carry with me always. However, there are many things in our history that aren’t honorable. I never told you the details of Hyorin’s attack because I didn’t want you to loathe an entire race for the evils of a few. I didn’t want you to be ashamed of who you are or where you came from.”

“What do you mean? What evils?”

“Wosen, there are many things, terrible things that remain a part of Nazil. The attack on Hyorin was but one. They killed thousands of humans with no cause: slaughtering women and children asleep in their beds. We were ordered to attack the city and kill anyone in our path.” Hosdaq paused, the images of that night fresh in his mind.

“I refused to take part in it. There’s no honor in killing children. I warned your mother and helped get as many people to the escape tunnel as I could. But it was too late, and I was only able to save a few. Emet and Nzuri were among them. When we reached the foot of the mountains, I was going to return to the city, but it was too late. That’s where Huname and Vot discovered us. They’d lost two children when the Nazilians collapsed the escape tunnel. Their grief plagues me still to this day.”

Wosen scowled, leaning forward. “Are you to say that you’re a traitor as well as a deserter?”

“Guard your tongue, boy! You know nothing! For years, I remained silent as the soldiers would raid human villages and ships. They’d rape the young girls, torture and kill the men, and take many as slaves. They used both the young girls and boys for ill. Some abuses are far too vile to mention, but those images and screams will never leave me. Yes, I refused to be a participant in such depravity. I’m no murderer or rapist. This isn’t who I am, and it’s not who you are, Wosen. You are my son, and I love you. But your desire to live in Nazil is folly. They won’t have you. Bandari is your place. We have a good life and I promise to start training you more. We need well-trained guards here as well. Isn’t this enough for you?”

Wosen leered at him from toe to head, the disappointment aptly on his face. “Why should I believe that our people are such monsters? Mayhaps you’ve concocted this story to keep me here amongst the farmers and that human wretch that’s sniffing behind you. I don’t fear the Nazilians. This might be what you’ve become, but I’m willing to do what you wouldn’t for our people.”

Hosdaq slammed a hand on the table. “Our people? What about the people here? Aren’t they our people, too? They nurtured and cared for you when your mother was lost. What of them, Wosen? Have you no love for them, for me, for your sister?”

“It’s not a matter of love. It’s a matter of honor. There’s no honor in defying those you’ve sworn an oath to serve. It’s your duty to follow the Zaxson’s commands, whether you agree or no. This is honor, Father. Not what you’d have me become.”

“What about truth? Is there no honor in truth? This is what I’m offering you. I can’t believe you’d commit such atrocities. You’re my son, and incapable of these acts.”

“Aye, I’m your son, and a son of Nazil. We are of House Neufmarche. You speak of honor and truths, but Pentanimir upholds that honor and remains in Nazil. Why couldn’t you have done the same? What’s the truth of that?”

“Again, you speak about Pentanimir. Mayhaps if he told you the truth about Nazil, then you’d believe. Even with such honor, he struggled with the possibility of remaining in Bandari with us. I alone convinced him otherwise.”

“You convinced him?” Wosen sniggered. “Why would the First Chosen of Nazil heed your words? Pentanimir is yet true to his home and his heritage. Not like you.”

“Pentanimir honors my position as Elder, and that of a former Third Chosen. He offers respect as one should, unlike you. Yes, I spoke with Pentanimir and Brahanu. In the end, they did what was best for our home and his.”

“Brahanu? What does she have to do with any of this? I thought that he was only serving as her guide. Did you lie about that, too?”

Hosdaq wished that he’d framed his words differently. “You know all that you should. Brahanu returned to Cazaal and Pentanimir to Nazil. I merely reminded him of the importance of his position and pledge. We understood that he promised to deliver Brahanu safely, so we offered to lift that burden so he could return home.”

“Why would he care so much for some human? His position is of more importance than some wondering doxy. He loves and respects the white city.”

Hosdaq sighed. “If only you held your father in as high regard as you do Pentanimir. When he returns, ask him yourself. There’s nothing for you in Nazil, Wosen, no matter how much I wish it otherwise. Your life is here, and I’ll speak with Saifu soon about your promise. You and Hibret have awaited your bond, and it’ll come to pass. Once you’ve wed and we find a new home, I pray that you’ll be satisfied.”

Wosen stood, turning away from him. “My satisfaction will come when I enter the gates of Nazil. You might be afraid of returning to our home, but I’m not,” he said, stepping to the door.

“The stories you tell of the Nazilians are ones of strength. When Hyorin was destroyed, it was for Nazil’s greatness. You don’t wait for your enemies to come to you, not like we do here. You’ve told me about why captives are taken during war. Their ransoms increase Nazil’s purse. They take them not to abuse, but for the gold. Yet you’re speaking of them as monsters now, and not great warriors. What has become of your heart, Father? You, too, were once a great warrior, just like your father. ‘Honor above all,’ is it not?”

Those words stung, and the grief encompassing Hosdaq couldn’t be contained. When he reached out to Wosen, he recoiled, stepping away from him.

“Wosen, please, listen to me. I hate what some Nazilians are, but it’s the truth. My heart isn’t in question, but what remains of yours is. If I could give you what you ask, it would already be done. We can’t ever do this, Wosen, don’t you understand? I’d be proud to present you to the Zaxson if I could. But if you go to Nazil, great suffering will follow. If you’re permitted to live, it’ll be as a slave. They’ll own all of you. Do you understand what that means? Your body will be theirs to use as they see fit. Men will take you by force, you’ll be beaten, tortured, and raped repeatedly. I won’t allow that to happen to you. Please hear me, and heed my words. You’re my son, and I love you. Forget this thing you wish. Find another way to satiate your desire. Don’t go to Nazil. It’ll only lead to ruin.”

His words pierced his heart as affectively as a honed Xtabyren. Hosdaq’s words caught in his throat as if something tangible was lodged there. Before him stood a stranger, someone he didn’t know, and continued to devour the son he raised and loved. He was losing his son just as he’d lost his mother. Neither of them could he save.

“I won’t betray my blood,” Wosen said. “The Nazilians only rejected your wife, but I’m blood of their blood, and they’ll have me. Then, I’ll have honor.”

It was late in the afternoon, and he hoped that the shadow cast by the marble structure would provide enough cover to keep him hidden. His heart thumped in his chest, causing his breaths to come in short, stinging bursts as he watched the Chosen Guard surround the savage .

At least, Pentanimir thought that it had to be a savage. This man was shorter than most of the Nazilian men that he knew, although at his young age, nearly all mature men appeared very tall. The savage had a deeper complexion, but his eyes were surprisingly pale and familiar. He could scarcely see his face through the long mop of black hair covering it. He was the very picture of what every Nazilian child was taught to fear. He was too young to understand where the savage came from, but old enough to recognize this one’s strange appearance as tales and warnings from his earliest childhood crowded his memory.

Even though the savage was surrounded by the closing circle of the Chosen Guard, he still moved with a liquid grace that fascinated Pentanimir. In contrast, the Chosen moved in the stiff, rigidly choreographed pattern that their training and elite position required. In fact, to Pentanimir, the savage was the opposite, the negative, of the formal, stylized beauty of the Nazilian culture that his young mind had already learned to value. The man’s crude leathers seemed almost obscene against the pearl and gold lacquered breastplates and helms that were part of the Zaxson’s livery.

Pentanimir became aware that the man’s hands were open and empty, while each of the Chosen was brandishing their Xtabyren: the long, curved swords that could only be carried by the Chosen of Nazil.

He didn’t realize that he was witnessing something rarely seen in Nazil: the ritual killing dance of the Chosen. The high white walls of the city, coupled with the cold ferocity of the Chosen Guards, had insulated the city from the strange inhabitants of the lands. The very appearance of the intruder was enough to raise an alarm. Through years, the discipline of the highly trained Chosen coalesced into a ritual torture of the intruders culminating in death. Pentanimir could see the almost feverish cast in the guard’s eyes as they reveled in the blood lust that their wordless approach excited in them.

By now, the circle was almost drawn around the prey. Pentanimir had unconsciously held his breath—out of a mixture of fear and admiration for the heroic soldiers—for so long that he was becoming light-headed. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had started to walk from his home toward the temple in anticipation of meeting his father, who was the First Chosen, and expected to be off duty soon. He almost never ventured into the city center near the Kadul , at least not without his parents. His boyish curiosity had gotten the better of him this afternoon as he approached without seeing his father, until he found himself trapped under the outer porch. Pentanimir breathed deeply and as quietly as he could. He could smell the aromatic cedar of his cover, mixed with the stench of fear and sweat.

The ritual dance had come to a pause, right before the guards would start to torture the savage with the sharp tips of their Xtabyren. Pentanimir didn’t know it, but by this time, the victim was almost too terror-stricken to move or think, if indeed these inferior beings had the capacity for thought.

The guards were looking forward to his futile attempts to break past their circled ranks, which with every rush would result in a slash to an eye, ear, or one of his extremities. Just as they tightened their grips on their swords, the intruder suddenly rose up to his full height, which Pentanimir could see was much taller than many of the guard. With a start, he recognized the guard in front was his father, Manifir. The savage and Manifir stood less than an arm’s breadth apart, with Manifir’s Xtabyren drooping from the formal attack posture. In the motionless silence, he could see both faces. He could see an expression of peace and completion in the savage’s eyes, while his father’s visage was full of confusion that seemed capable of yielding to uncontrollable rage. Pentanimir was frightened by his father—he couldn’t understand the emotions that played across Manifir’s face.

The death dance is a silent affirmation of the natural preeminence of the Nazilians over all others in the lands. But now the unthinkable was playing out. The savage’s discipline and peace seemed to be fighting its own battle against the blood lust of the guards. Although he was outnumbered, he seemed to be winning. As Pentanimir looked on incredulously, almost all the tips of the Xtabyrens were dropping lower. Manifir appeared entranced by the peaceful expression now so clearly visible on the intruder’s face. His eyes looked over him with a familiarity.

Pentanimir had never seen him so open, so not in control. The savage lowered his hands to his sides and smiled earnestly into Manifir’s face. Slowly, he tilted his head in a gesture of respect, all the while looking into the other man’s icy eyes.

Pentanimir saw his father’s appearance change in one terrifying instant. The killing dance was forgotten, as were the ritual slashes and jabs that preceded the death strokes. Even the other guards drew back in unconscious fear from the First Chosen. His Xtabyren swept up and back down in a glint of silver that tore through the savage’s left side and shoulder. The man rocked for a moment, then fell straight backward into the patch of cedar where Pentanimir was hiding. The boy looked down into his eyes, which were still open. His mouth gaped, seeing the eyes of Nazil staring back at him. Still, he projected an expression of peace and rest, as if a purpose had been fulfilled. He looked into Pentanimir’s face, with a look of recognition and whispered, “Brother,” with his final gasp.

Pentanimir struggled to tear his eyes away from the dead face next to him. Manifir was kneeling on one knee, with his arms crossed over the other, and his face buried in his arms.

“Crissu,” Manifir said, stifling a surge of emotion. He lifted his head, looking directly at Pentanimir, who saw a mixture of anguish, confusion, and self-loathing more disturbing than anything he’d ever dreamed in his young life.

“Father, no,” Pentanimir shouted, springing up from his bed. His face was sweat-soaked as he gazed around his room, his mind clawing out of disorientation. Returning to the present, his breathing calmed, but the images remained.

He turned to a small shelf against the wall, staring at the figurines for a moment before picking one up. Running his fingertip over the etchings in the smooth, dark wood, he said, “The god of power.” His smile was wistful, replacing the figurine on the shelf and thinking of the day that his father had gifted them to Danimore and him. The same father who slew his son.

Pentanimir walked to the basin, hoping the cool water would remove the vision from his mind. “Crissu,” he said, never wanting to forget the name.

“Brother, are you all right?” Danimore asked, opening the door to his room.

Pentanimir stumbled toward his bed, burying his face in his hands. “All right? It’s been years since that could be so. No matter how much I wish it otherwise, some ghosts will forever haunt me.”

“Ghosts? Speak plainly, Pentanimir, so that I might understand.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to share my nightmares with you. If it were so, we’d both suffer the same. This burden is mine alone.”

“Pentanimir, you said that we only have each other. If that’s true, why won’t you share this with me?”

Pentanimir walked back to the basin, wanting to move past the ghosts that haunted him. As he looked into the mirror, he removed his wet tunic, grabbing his jerkin and trews. When he began pulling on his jerkin, Zeta walked into the room, gasping. For a moment, she stared wide-eyed, and then averted her eyes.

“Apol—apologies, Pentanimir. I didn’t know—that is, I came to ask what you wanted to eat.”

“The fault is mine,” he said, turning and pulling on his trews to cover his nakedness. “The door should’ve been closed. I’d like some eggs and that fried bread that you make. I can’t seem to get enough of it.”

Zeta nodded, smiling over at Danimore. “And what do you desire this morning?”

His cheeks reddened. “I’ll have the same, Zeta, thank you.”

“As you wish,” she said, smiling and leaving them alone.

Pentanimir glanced from one to the other, closing the door as she moved down the hall.

“Dani, do you have something to tell me?”

“What? Uhm…no, there’s nothing to tell.”

Pentanimir laughed aloud. “You were never able to speak false to me, Dani. Your face is as red as a cherry. Truly, you should just tell me about you and Zeta. It’s obvious that you’re hiding something.”

“Oh, Dani, it’s me. I’m not judging you, I’m merely curious. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you like this. Is it Zeta?”

“Yes,” he relented. “I—we—I—well, I did as you suggested, and she was pleased.”

“Ho ho! Tell me about it,” he said with eager eyes.

“What? I can’t talk about that. It’s enough to know that we were, well, intimate.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. How else to know if you’ve done everything you should? Making love is a delicate thing and can’t be rushed. Did you, well, you know, were you pleased, too?”

“I really don’t want to discuss it. I wasn’t seeking pleasure for myself, only for Zeta.”

“Do you mean that you still haven’t joined with her?”

“No. Does this satisfy your curiosity?”

“Dani, I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m glad that you and Zeta have become close. Even so, I understand that it’s difficult. Zeta has suffered in Nazil and she’s pregnant. Have you thought about what you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Zeta’s our attendant, and will deliver a child in less than two full moons. You know what’s done with most children of a blended heritage. Have you been considering a way to protect her and the child?”

Danimore sighed. It was easier for him not to think of what was to come. Howbeit, avoiding the situation wasn’t going to free them from the consequences. It was time to put actual thought into protecting Zeta and her child.

“I don’t know. If she were just an attendant, things could be different. But since she’s a human captive, that complicates everything. The Zaxson knows about her condition and Uncle will certainly be spying. How am I supposed to keep them safe? Bringing her here only delayed what’s to come. I lack the position and the power to protect her fully, and fear that I might fail.”

“We’ll do all that we can to keep them safe. There may yet be options, Dani. But you’ll have to consider what you’re willing to forego or risk for their safety.”

“I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep them safe.” He sighed, his troubled visage portraying both sincerity and despondency.

“I think that I’ve fallen in love with her. It wasn’t what I intended,” Danimore said, quickly. “I swear on my honor that I didn’t bring her here for pleasure. But now, it’s a strange thing, I not only care for Zeta, but also for her babe.”

He shook his head, slamming his hands down in frustration. “What’s happening to me? I’ve lost control of my feelings.”

“Dani, you needn’t swear to me. I know your heart, and you’re right to fear and to question. What you propose is a dangerous thing. The only way to keep them safe would be to leave Nazil far behind. In doing so, you’d become an enemy of the city that you love. You must be certain that Zeta is who you truly desire above anyone and anything else.”

“My desire for her is boundless. It’s not her great beauty or anything so frivolous. It’s her, who she is. I could spend a lifetime in her company and never grow tired. Still, I don’t see how we could leave. Even if we attempted to live in the human villages, I’d be seen for what I am. Mayhaps in Mahlum, Kumasi, Leahcim or even Spero we could live in peace, but eyes would always be upon us. I could never freely show my love for her.”

“Dani, tell me true: do you want Zeta because you’ve never experienced another woman?”

He was insulted by the accusation and his visage portrayed the same. “Brother, you said that you knew my heart. If that’s all I wanted, I could’ve had that from not only her, but numerous others. I didn’t join with her because I didn’t want to. Physical gratification is easy, what I’m speaking of is much greater.”

“Please, Dani, I only posed the question to have you consider the possibility. You’ve never been pleasured by a woman, and at times, we can mistake such satisfaction for love. I wasn’t questioning your heart.”

“I wanted Zeta to know the pleasure of making love,” Danimore said. “I didn’t know that while pleasing her, I’d experience it, too. It was like nothing that I’ve ever known, Brother, and I owe you much for this.”

“It was only my words. It was your willingness and desire that made it so. Now, let us join your young lady and break our fast. Uncle will arrive soon, and I’d like Zeta in her room when he does.”

“I agree. He seems intent upon degrading the both of us. Only you are immune from his scorn.”

“No, not immune. He’s using me to further his own position and prominence. Trust, he makes it known when I’ve displeased him,” Pentanimir said, continuing to the kitchen.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you,” Zeta giggled, setting plates of eggs on the table. “I was coming to fetch you soon. The eggs have just finished, and the bread is nice and warm. Do you want some honey milk?”

“I’d prefer some tea,” Pentanimir said as Danimore nodded.

“Zeta, one day you’ll have to show me how to make this bread,” Pentanimir said, stuffing a large piece in his mouth.

“Well, I can show you at any time. Though, you probably won’t do much cooking after you’ve wed.”

Pentanimir stopped chewing, dropping his spoon on his plate.

“Uhm, Zeta,” Danimore said. “It’s best not to speak about such things. Pentanimir has enough on his mind without reminders of what can’t be changed. Besides, you’ll need to be ready for when Hushar comes. Let’s finish our meal so that you can ready yourself. We’d like you in your room before our uncle arrives.” He gently squeezed her hand while glancing at Pentanimir from the corner of his eye.

Pentanimir looked up at her and exhaled heavily. “Zeta, I’m not angry with you. It’s past time that I truly accept this. I can’t show disappointment when someone mentions my pledge. You shouldn’t feel shame for what you said, I’m ashamed at my response. Please, enjoy your meal, it’s delicious, as always.”

Zeta smiled, but when she lifted her cup, a hard thumping sounded from the door. As she raised to answer it, Danimore grasped her arm.

“Dani, if it’s your uncle, he’ll expect your servant to respond. Please allow me to do my duties. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Danimore relented, but followed her. When she opened the door, Hushar was standing behind Oxilon.

Wearing his usual scowl, Oxilon removed his cloak, tossing it at Zeta. When Danimore stepped forward, Pentanimir gripped his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Greetings, Uncle,” Pentanimir said. “Would you like to join us for morning meal?”

“I broke my fast some time ago. Mayhaps if you had a competent slave, you, too, would break your fast at a proper time.”

“This time suits us. Pentanimir and I wanted to remain abed this morning and Zeta was kind to keep everything warm for us.”

“Kind? She’s supposed to do what you command. She should’ve brought your meal to you if you were too tired to leave your chamber.”

“Uncle, we don’t need to eat in our room. This is something for old men and the infirm. We are neither.” Pentanimir chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Oxilon merely glared at him, moving into the kitchen. “You allow a slave to eat at your table? You do all you can to dishonor us. If this doesn’t cease, I’ll speak to Draizeyn and have the doxy moved to my house. There, she’ll learn her place. What if one of the guards had come to deliver a message? You would’ve brought shame and dishonor upon all of us,” he said, and then gestured to Hushar. “And what of this? Why is the Zaxson’s slave visiting your home? We don’t offer care to whores or their abominations. Have you both lost all wit?”

As the tears streamed down Zeta’s cheeks, Danimore’s hands balled into fists. He moved toward his uncle, but Pentanimir nudged him toward the corridor.

“Dani, mayhaps you can show Hushar where we keep our herbs and oils. I’m certain that she’ll want to tend Zeta quickly and return to the citadel.”

Danimore’s jaw clenched, motioning down the hall. As they disappeared, Pentanimir turned to his uncle, his smile fading.

“Uncle, it isn’t for you to come and order us in our home. We respect and honor you, as did our father, but you’ll not offer insult to anyone under the protection of our roof again.”

“Do you think to tell me what I can and cannot speak to a slave?”

“I mean no disrespect, but we’re both men grown. How we choose to treat our attendants isn’t your concern. Zeta is with child and needs proper care. We can’t afford to have her here unable to work. The Zaxson agreed to allow Hushar to tend to her. He understands that an ill attendant has no value. I would think you’d understand the same.”

“I’m not daft, Nephew. I know the slaves need care. Hells, I have eight who tend my home. However, that doesn’t include taking a meal at my table. That human whore is far beneath anyone in Nazil and should be treated as such.” Oxilon turned, shaking his head. “Why your brother chose the whore of the seas to serve in this home is unfathomable. It gives him great pleasure to vex me.”

“I’m certain that Dani didn’t consider your feelings when selecting Zeta. The Zaxson had no need of her, and we did. She keeps a fine home and prepares delicious meals. Why does she raise such ire in you?”

“It’s of no matter. Once you’re wed, at least you’ll be free of such dishonor. There’s much talk in the city regarding the whore. I’ve even heard tell of her buying fine clothes at the market. She’s treated like a wife rather than a slave.”

“No, Uncle, she’s treated like a person,” Pentanimir snapped.

Oxilon glowered, taking a seat on the divan. “As you say, Pentanimir. Danimore’s taste in women is that of your father.”

“I’ll waste no more thought on the whore. We have important matters to discuss before we meet with the Zaxson. So, let us tend to business and speak of slaves no more.”

When Danimore heard their conversation shift, he rejoined Zeta and Hushar. “How do you find her?”

“She’s doing fine, Sir Benoist. But I feel her babe might come sooner than we thought.”

“Sooner? What makes you think so?”

“The last I tended her, the babe’s position was much higher. It’s moving downward now. She’s gotten a lot bigger, too. Mayhaps within a full moon she’ll be giving birth.”

“I hope it’s a boy, Dani, just as you said.” Zeta smiled.

“As do I,” he said, resting a hand on her abdomen. “Are you certain the babe’s coming so soon?”

“No one can know for sure, milord, but I believe so. I’ve birthed many babes in my time, and this one seems near ready.”

“If it’ll be that soon, I hope we can complete this duty quickly. I don’t want you here alone when you deliver. I’ll be back, I must speak with Pentanimir.”

“What’s going on?” Hushar asked, once the door closed.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Dani and his brother are very good to me. My duties are light, I’m able to come and go as I please, and they buy me beautiful things. Dani even helps me when I bathe.”

Hushar scoffed. “And how many times has he made you pleasure him?”

“Never. I know that’s what happened at the citadel, but not here.”

“You just be careful, Zeta. These Nazilians are full of deceit. I trusted one once and was betrayed for that trust. You mind my words and be careful.”

“Thank you for your concern, but Dani is quite different. You saw his reaction to his uncle; such is his heart.”

Hushar nodded, thinking about Allister d’Garrion and Perrin de Braose in that moment. Both had always treated her kindly whenever she chanced upon them. Those encounters were some of the few better memories of her time in Nazil.

Music and laughter greeted them before they reached the citadel gates. Itai gestured to the guards, driving the small cart beneath the portcullis. He glanced down at Brahanu, and held her hand after noticing her troubled expression. She managed a slight smile, taking a deep breath as the cart halted. Before Katar could help her down, throngs of villagers swarmed around them, offering welcomes and well wishes. Brahanu’s heart raced, exchanging greetings and hugs whilst struggling to stay at Itai’s side. It was for naught. She was ushered through a crowd of clasping arms and laughter. When she finally reached the doors, her family was standing there to greet her.

Amani and Ameya held on to Brahanu, crying and laughing at the same time. “We’ve missed you so, Brahanu,” Amani said.

It appeared that half the village was waiting to greet her when Hacom ushered them inside. As they entered, cups were raised, and shouts of welcome rang throughout the home. One by one, neighbors came offering more hugs, while she made her way to the dining hall. Brahanu smiled, returning their hugs while searching for Itai.

The attendants held trays of fruit, cheeses, pokerounce, honeycakes, and other delicacies for the guests to sample before the main meal. As the procession passed before her, she noticed Itai sitting near the hearth. His visage was bereft of expression as the dancers twirled in front of him, the ladies’ ruffled dresses obscuring her view from across the room.

Brahanu stepped in his direction, but she was quickly encircled by newcomers, extending well wishes.

Seeing his daughter’s expression, Hacom stood, banging two trays together to quiet the room. “Friends, I thank you all for coming to help us celebrate the return of our beautiful daughter, Brahanu.”

As their cheers began anew, Brahanu forced a smile, turning to face the crowd. When she looked across the room, she met Itai’s eyes. Never had they appeared as they did in that moment, and that image would forever be etched in her heart and mind.

“Many of you joined the patrols as we searched for Brahanu,” Hacom continued. “For this, we’re eternally grateful. It takes a special group of people to leave their homes in aid of another. However, there was one young man who was not only vigilant, but passionate as well. He refused to rest until Brahanu was back home where she belonged. He even put me, her father, to shame with the amount of energy he put into his search. And it’s only right that he joins us in the seat of honor beside me as we begin our feast. Itai Gael, please come and join us.”

Itai managed a smile as the room erupted with applause. He accepted the claps on his shoulder as he walked to the table, taking a seat beside Hacom.

“Now, friends, please find a place and enjoy your meal. Tonight, we welcome one of our own home,” Hacom said, raising his mug. “Play something soft for my daughter. She loves a sweet tune.”

The guests took their seats, as the musicians began playing a soft melody. Soon, the servers weaved in and out, carrying large trays and vessels of wine. The feasting began with stag, gosling, and loins of veal. On each table sat an enormous pie, containing deer, rabbit, a minced loin of veal, hard-boiled eggs covered with saffron and flavored with cloves. There hadn’t been a feast this grand in the village for many seasons. The guests continued to gorge themselves on roe-deer, pig, sturgeon, wine and mead.

Brahanu could barely eat a bite, watching the celebration while peering over at Itai. It wasn’t until the honeycakes and plums stewed in rose-water were brought to the tables did Amani notice her lack of appetite.

“My little dove, why aren’t you eating? Your father went to great effort and expense to ensure you’d have all the dishes that you love.”

“It isn’t the food, Mother, I’m just wearier than I thought.”

“Yes, you’ve had a long trip, but you’re home with your family now. You’ll rest in your own bed tonight. For now, honor your father and eat. Almaz prepared the honeycakes just for you.”

Brahanu smiled, taking a small bite. As she slowly chewed, her gaze rested on Itai. He didn’t appear any more interested in his food than she was, yet he managed to make it seem otherwise.

Brahanu took a drink and then leaned in toward her mother. She hoped that her announcement would lighten Itai’s mood. “Mother, Itai and I talked on our trip to Cazaal. After everything that’s happened, we don’t want to waste any more time apart. We’ve decided to wed as soon as the Nohek can arrange it.”

Amani’s smile took in her entire face. “Brahanu, there couldn’t be better news. You’ve been returned to us and now you’re going to wed. The gods are good. We dreaded when you postponed another year, now, I’m so happy, little dove. Itai loves you so.”

Amani leaned to her husband, whispering the same.

“Ho ho!” Hacom said, standing while banging his empty mug on the table. “Friends and neighbors. My lady wife has just informed me of another reason to celebrate. My daughter and Itai have announced their plan to wed. The ceremony will take place as soon as Nohek Glennon can arrange it.”

Hacom gestured to Glennon and he stood, clearing his throat. “The ceremony can take place within a fortnight. We need only to consecrate and prepare the circle.”

“There you have it, friends and neighbors,” Hacom said. “Tonight, we celebrate our daughter’s return. Next, we’ll celebrate their marriage! Raise your cups and join me in a toast to their future.”

The guests raised their cups and servers moved about the room, refilling them. Julaybeim winked at his sister while clapping Itai on the back.

The food and music continued throughout the night. Although Brahanu wanted to be alone with Itai, she endured, dancing with her father and brother as Itai did the same with her mother and sister. The wine flowed as the music slowed, and conversations continued. One by one, the guests began to offer thanks and congratulations before they returned to their homes. Others milled about, trading stories and laughter while sampling sweets and drink. As the numbers decreased, so did the speed of the music. Only soft melodic tunes played, blending with the villagers’ voices.

Brahanu was finally able to ease over to Itai. He’d been leaning up against the wall, a part of the festivities, and yet, not so. His eyes had never left his cup nor did a smile find his face.

“Itai, please tell me what’s wrong. You don’t behave like our wedding was just announced.”

“I’m thinking about many things, and can’t seem to hold the moment. Mayhaps rest in my own bed will help ease my thoughts,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

When he started to walk away, Brahanu took his hand, leading him to a bench outside.

“Please, Itai, don’t do this to me. Tell me of your heart and mind. If you’ve changed your mind about our wedding, I won’t force it. Your happiness is too important to me. I’ll make my parents understand.”

“No. Our wedding plan stands. It’s the one thing that’s brought some joy back to my heart.”

“I see no evidence of that joy, my love.”

“I don’t intend it that way. I love you more now than I did before you were lost, but all things in my heart aren’t about you. There are worries and concerns that live there as well.”

When she attempted to respond, he lifted her hand to his lips. “They aren’t about you, my love. But seeing and holding you again has begun to take them from me. Goodnight, my beautiful Brahanu.”

She watched as he disappeared into the darkness. As his image faded from her view, swirls of emotions invaded her mind. Lowering a hand to her abdomen, Brahanu contemplated their future. She couldn’t help but wonder if Itai had known of the child that grew inside of her. At that, she shook her head, not willing to accept Olam’s prophecy. She wouldn’t birth a son for Pentanimir. She’d birth a child for her future husband, for Itai.

“Brahanu? Why are you sitting out here alone?” Amani asked.

“I—I wasn’t alone, Mother. Itai just left. We wanted a moment to speak privately.”

“Oh, I understand, my little dove. You’ve barely had time alone since you returned.”

Brahanu merely nodded, lowering her gaze.

“Many good things are coming to pass, Brahanu, starting with your wedding. We’re pleased that you’ve decided to wed. Itai has always loved you, you know?” Amani said, taking her hand. “When your father accepted the promise, he angered many established men. Caretaker Estenbrook in Noraa had asked for your promise to his eldest, Janshai. But your father wouldn’t be swayed. He knew as did I, that Itai was the right choice for you. We are all one here, Brahanu, no matter what station we’re born into.”

“Now, let’s go inside and speak with your father. Our guests have departed and we’ve much to discuss.”

When they entered, Brahanu looked around as if she’d never been there before. Wherever she turned, she was reminded of Itai. Whether it was the furnishings, sconces, or her father’s overstuffed chair, Itai’s hands and skill was prevalent in their home. Why she’d never realized the comfort that brought to her, she didn’t understand.

Hacom lit his long pipe, turning as they entered. Billowing plumes of smoke wafted above him as he exhaled, gathering his thoughts.

“I know that you’re weary, little dove, but we need to talk with you,” Hacom said. “We’re overjoyed that you’ve returned safely, but would like to know how you ended up so far from home. The word from Kaleo is that the Nazilians are still ambushing ships and taking captives. Of course, the Zaxson refutes this, but we know the truth. Besides his pirates, they keep a constant watch on Depero Wood. How did you pass through without notice?”

“I don’t understand any more than you do, Father. Mayhaps it was due to the storm. I was disoriented when Ared threw me and couldn’t find my way. But I noticed smoke and a fire in the distance that led me to safety.”

“Fires? But they couldn’t have been from Cazaal. Was it the Neema Outpost?” Hacom asked.

“No, Father. It wasn’t the outpost or Cazaal.”

“Not the outpost? But you weren’t supposed to be traveling far. In fact, you should’ve returned within five turns of the glass.” He looked up, his brow knitting. “Was it one of the bands of rogues seen recently in the wood? That filth holds fealty to only the coin dropped in their pockets.”

“No, I didn’t see anyone in the wood. Isn’t that why you allowed me to go?” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I traveled the same path that I’ve shown Itai. I didn’t stray from it or travel beyond what’s known. Or, at least, I don’t remember doing so. It doesn’t make any sense, and I can’t explain why or how. I—I just remember waking up and seeing the fires. That was all that I could see through the haze of the storm. When I neared the fire, I still didn’t know. But once the guard approached me, I learned that I was near Nazil.”

Ash and embers spread across the floor as Hacom’s pipe tumbled from his hand. “Nazil? No, Brahanu. It could’ve been Dovak or…or even Yarah. I’ve known some decent men in Yarah, but not Nazil. You were confused, Brahanu, it couldn’t be.”

She shook her head, feeling her heart beat increase. “There’s no mistake. It was Nazil. When the guard first revealed himself, I fought to break free. I wasn’t going to let him take me. But…but he concealed me in a nearby cove, away from the city’s gates.”

“Forced you into some cove?” Julaybeim nearly shouted. “Why? What did that Nazilian filth do to you!”

“Speak softly,” Amani said. “You’ll frighten Ameya.”

“No,” Brahanu said. “I thought the same, but it wasn’t like that. He took me there to keep me hidden from the other guards.”

Julaybeim scoffed. “We know the hearts of these ghosts. They don’t do anything unless it benefits them or their Zaxson. They’re soulless monsters with hearts as black as night.”

“Julaybeim speaks true,” Hacom said. “When a human is taken to Nazil, they’re seldom seen again. In days past, some would be ransomed, but no longer. There’s a maleficence in Nazil that’s been festering for decades. Guards can gain great honor for delivering valuable captives. So, this guard’s motives are perplexing. Why didn’t he take you to Draizeyn?”

“I asked him the same, Father. Well, when I stopped fighting against him. He tended my wounds, brought me food, and a warm cloak and clothes. He took the greatest care of me, truly.”

Hacom and Amani exchanged a look. “You speak as though you admire this ghost,” Hacom said, warily. “Did he tell you his name?”

“Yes, his name’s Pentanimir, and he said that he was First Chosen. I didn’t know what it meant, but learned later that he held a high rank.”

“First Chosen? They’re known as Nazil’s elite, and trusted to serve the Zaxson’s impious demands.” His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition invading his thoughts. “Wait, Pentanimir? Is that what you said?”

“Yes, his name’s Pentanimir. What’s wrong, Father?”

“It’s customary for them to speak their father’s name, too. What did he say?”

“Hacom, why does this matter?” Amani asked.

“Just let her answer.”

“I’m not certain, but it’s close to his own. It sounded like Manthofir. Yes, I think that was it.”

Hacom leapt from his chair. “Manifir! Was it Manifir Benoist?”

“Yes, that was it. Manifir of House Benoist. What’s the matter?”

Hacom paced, running his hands through his thinning hair. “Manifir Benoist was also a First Chosen. He led raids, attacked ships, and was responsible for Hyorin’s destruction! He implemented that savage attack, killing more women and children than men. The captives were tortured and some were even mutilated.”

Hacom stopped abruptly, pointing a finger at Brahanu. “He raped young girls, forcing them to bear his children only to watch them die as they were pulled from their wombs. He had a son, a son...”

“Hacom, enough,” Amani said. “Don’t you see your daughter?”

“Forgive me, little dove,” he said. Ameya’s knees were tucked beneath her chin, rocking as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t be speaking about such things. It’s late, mayhaps you should go on to bed.” Hacom sighed. “Amani, please take her in to Kailen so she can ready her for bed.”

“Father, was everything you said true?” Brahanu asked after they’d left. “Was Pentanimir’s father such a monster?”

“Yes, that and more. I was there to see the carnage left in Nazil’s wake. When the bird arrived, it was far too late to be any aid during the battle, but we helped to salvage what we could.”

“How do you know about the women and babes?” Julaybeim asked.

“Ransoms were paid for far too few captives, but those who returned told about their treatment. One young girl of four and ten was returned to her father ruined. Neither knew that she was pregnant until it was too late. When the child was born, it looked just like a ghost. She couldn’t bear such a memory and leapt into the depths of the Great Sword, holding the child in her arms.”

“Why haven’t the humans joined together to defeat the Nazilians? Surely our number is equal or greater than theirs,” Julaybeim said.

“A rebellion isn’t something to consider lightly. Everyone would have to agree and trust the other. That’s not easily done. Some humans would rather remain under their rule than to reclaim these lands. With the spies reporting to Draizeyn, no one would risk such a move.”

Brahanu looked at her father with a visage displaying both pain and disbelief. “Then why would Pentanimir risk so much to help me? I asked him the same, but he never gave a proper answer.”

“What did he say?” Hacom asked.

“He said that most Nazilians weren’t like the Zaxson: they serve from fear, not allegiance. Pentanimir thought me beautiful, and only wanted to keep me safe.”

“He thought you beautiful?” Julaybeim spat the words as though they were poison. “Keep you safe? What did he demand for this safety?”

Brahanu flinched. “What—what do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. What did that damn ghost demand for your safety? Are you to bear a demon child of Nazil, too?”

“Julaybeim!” Hacom said. “Hold your tongue. You’re talking about your sister.”

Brahanu’s face burned. She was angry at Julaybeim’s assertion, but angrier still that he was right.

“I’ve told you the truth,” she said. “If not for Pentanimir, I wouldn’t be with you now. We were attacked by a pair of human hunters in the Dessalonian Wood, but Pentanimir refused to kill them. He did all that he promised and left me with Aizen’s family to bring me here.”

Julaybeim crossed his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t he just bring you back through Depero Wood? Why take you farther from your home and then return you? Was it due to his sudden affection for human women?”

“He said that it wasn’t safe due to the Nazilian patrols.”

“On that, he spoke true,” Hacom said. “The Nazilians oft do patrol the north and west wood. Still, his actions are suspect. And what about these humans? Why would they trust a Chosen of Nazil?”

“Aizen’s parents have known Pentanimir for some time. When he was with them, it was as if we were all the same. There wasn’t a separation, not there.”

“I hope that they guard themselves well. At the first opportunity, he could betray their trust. The Nazilians aren’t known for their honesty, or their honor.”

“What’re we going to do?” Julaybeim asked. “Should we try to find this…this ghost?”

Hacom shook his head, pushing up from his chair. “No, that would be foolish. Just the thought of the Nazilians taints the peace of our home and our hearts. We must focus on your sister’s coming wedding. Brahanu is safe, and we’ll think of Nazil no more.”

Perrin’s expression was forlorn, listening to the exchange. He wanted to put an end to this, but he hadn’t the standing or position. Oxilon was the Zaxson’s High Advisor. A man with such power could crush him with merely one word. That thought only caused his already dour mood to worsen, and he worried about his son.

Perrin inched forward a bit, keeping well within the shadows. His brow creased, noticing Beilzen’s continuous genuflections.

“He isn’t above you,” he whispered, feeling ignominy at the display.

He edged closer when Oxilon stepped toward the door. No doubt, he’d ordered Beilzen to spy or act as his messenger with promises of a better position. How he wished he could’ve provided more for his son.

Even though Oxilon’s days of a Chosen were long past, he still had a muscular and intimidating build. His very presence made others feel small. Beilzen was smaller still. He stood barely over three and a half cubits, with a slight frame. Perrin peered down at his own body at the thought. He’d never been a large man, but he stood much taller than his son. Beilzen inherited his mother’s build, though Perrin wished it otherwise. Not for his sake, but for that of his son. Mayhaps merely that one change would’ve allowed Beilzen to have more confidence and know his worth.

The sound of the closing door brought Perrin from his contemplations. He hurried into the room, and then paused, observing the distant look in Beilzen’s eyes. Perrin knew his son well: he was troubled.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course, Father. I’ve been selected for an important assignment.”

“Is that what Sir Benoist came to tell you?”

“Indeed. He selected me above even the first guards,” Beilzen said, feigning importance. “I told you that if I continued to assist Sir Benoist that my position and standing would improve.”

When he attempted to leave, Perrin grasped his shoulder. “Have you forgotten to whom you speak? Others might accept this man that you’ve become, but I don’t. I won’t. You don’t behave like the son that I raised. Was your position in the temple not high enough for you?”

“With all due respect, Father, you don’t know me. Counting coin for the Cha may serve you, but I desire something more. I want a fine home, clothes, servants, and a beautiful wife. I can’t have that assisting you in the temple. No one would accept a pledge from such a man. You’ve seen this.”

“No one? I held the same position when your mother accepted my pledge, or was Hasina’s family not prominent enough to matter?”

Beilzen’s head snapped up. “I didn’t mean it like that. Things were different when you and Mother wed. You did well for our family and are still held in high regard throughout the city. There’s talk about your association with the humans, but your skill and honor have never been in question.”

“Beilzen, it wasn’t long ago that you cared for the people just as I do, not only the Nazilians.”

“I was young and knew little. When I started working for Sir Benoist, I finally understood the way of things.”

“You mean, after you fell in love with Shiloh, and she was taken from you.”

This time, it was Beilzen who felt the sting of his father’s words. All the memories and emotions he felt for Shiloh erupted to the surface, creating a greater pain than he felt when first losing her. She was the only woman who’d loved him, and the only one he’d loved. It was that same love that caused her abuse and their separation.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beilzen. I know that you love her still. What happened wasn’t your fault. But the very people who committed these barbaric acts are the ones that you’re idolizing and attempting to emulate. Beilzen, your only love has been a human. Can’t you see the disparity there? What has so changed in you, my son? Please tell me how to help you regain the man that you once were.”

“That man is forever gone,” he said, turning away. “He knew nothing of the world, nothing of love. Slaves do as they’re commanded, say what they’re commanded. Shiloh said that she loved me because she had to. If she hadn’t been a slave, she would’ve rejected me just like the others have.

“You haven’t failed with me, Father. It’s time for me to be more than I am, and make my own way. If assisting Sir Benoist can help me rise to a proper position, I’ll do what he orders. No one else will offer me an opportunity,” he said, removing his cloak and holding his arms out wide. His slight frame was emphasized by the tight fit of his jerkin and trews.

“Does my stature fit that of a Chosen?” Beilzen asked. “I hear the other guards mocking me when I pass. Has anyone approached you begging for a pledge for their daughter? No one will have me as I am. Can’t you see that?”

“That isn’t true, it isn’t.” Perrin’s voice cracked with the words. “You’re my son, and worthy of any maid in all of Faélondul. You’re not less, Beilzen, you’re much more. Why can’t you see that? From the very beginning, we knew. It was your heart, always you cared, my son. Not for the material things, but for the people. You brought so much joy to your mother and me. If there’s a young maid that you desire, tell me about her. I’ll seek a pledge this very day if you wish it.”

Beilzen shook his head, replacing his cloak. “I love you more than anyone in the lands, but I must make a way for myself. I’m a guard now, and many respect this position. If I continue to serve, Oxilon will promote me to the second guard’s position. I need this, Father. Don’t you understand? It’s the only way.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve heard about your cruelties in the citadel. How can you abuse those people? Isn’t it enough that their freedom has been stolen from them? This isn’t the way.”

“They’re only human!”

“Only human?” Perrin staggered back. “What are you saying? Does being human remove some right that’s intrinsic to all of us? Was Shiloh only human?” Perrin asked, fighting the tears threatening to fall. “What about Jabrail Qureshi? He loved you as a son. Do you think of him the same?”

“I do what I must. Sir Benoist admires strength. I can’t wield a sword or a bow, not as well as the others, and my stature is more like a boy’s than a man. He’d find no strength in that. But when I deal with the slaves, this is where he sees my strength.”

“What strength does it take to abuse someone who’s already subjugated and broken? Only a coward would beat a man once he’s already found the ground. This isn’t strength; it’s cruelty beyond what you’re capable of.”

“I’m no coward. Soon, you’ll see. I’m going to rise in the city and the name de Braose will be spoken with respect. Our house will be elevated beyond what either of us could imagine. Then—then I’ll select a wife of my choosing and sire sons to continue our name.”

Perrin searched his son’s face, but couldn’t recognize the man standing before him. “This isn’t your heart, Beilzen. I fear this path and the man that you’re becoming. Already you feel a stranger to me. Please, another solution can be found. You can have what you want, it’ll just take more time.”

“When? When will such marvelous blessings come to pass? I’m not some young man anymore, I’m one and twenty. How long must I wait for what others have had for years?”

“Oxilon is corrupt and has allegiance to no one, not even those of his own blood. You don’t know him like I do. These men aren’t like us, they’ll take what they want and crush you beneath their heels.”

“No. Oxilon trusts only me with such duties. Once I prove my worth, then, you’ll be proud.”

The first orange and yellow rays of sun crested over the glistening Dessalonian peaks as the twins approached the village, waving to the fishermen as they passed. The village was coming alive as the inhabitants began their morning duties. It was good to see Bandari again.

Aizen led his horse to the water’s edge. For just a moment, he looked out across the waters and the thick line of trees. This was the only home they’d known, and the thought of leaving it was disheartening.

“Brother,” Ahni said. “We’d better get home. Mother and Father will be waiting.”

Aizen nodded, tethering his horse. When they approached the eternal fire, Wosen stepped from beside his house, smiling. He glanced at the bags draped over their shoulders, moving closer.

“You’ve been gone a while, brothers Osmont. How was your trip?”

“Aye,” Aizen said. “We did what we set out to do.”

“Ah, so the girl is safely at home?”

“That was our purpose, was it not? Now, if you’ll excuse us, our parents await.”

“A moment more couldn’t hurt. I mean, we’ve barely seen each other of late. Surely, the trip to, where was it now, Cazaal? Yes, Cazaal, couldn’t have kept you so long. You did travel the Great Sword, didn’t you?”

Aizen peered over at his brother, sliding his satchel from his shoulder. After gesturing him home, he moved closer to Wosen. “Since when have you cared about our travels? You haven’t wanted to even hunt with us for several full moons. If you were so concerned about our guest, mayhaps you should’ve offered to escort her.”

Wosen scoffed. “That wasn’t a task suited for me. I didn’t care if she returned to Cazaal or not. In fact, Pentanimir should’ve taken her to Nazil, not brought her here.”

“Is that so?” Aizen’s brow raised. “I think that the First Chosen would disagree with you.”

“Even a First Chosen of Nazil can err. Why do you even care? She’s not from here. Why should any of us endanger ourselves to keep her safe. Hells, why would he?”

“Wosen, you speak like a stranger to this village. Pentanimir was right for bringing her to us, and we were honored to escort her home. If there’s one lesson that we’ve learned by living here, it’s that we all must care for each other. Have you forgotten this, son of Hosdaq?”

“As you say, Wosen, I need to see my parents.”

“I hear the female is pregnant. Did she name the father?” Wosen called after him.

Aizen paused, turning to face him again. “The lady’s state is no concern of ours. Mayhaps that’s why Pentanimir assisted her. Either way, it’s of little matter to us. Now, excuse me.”

“What if the child is Pentanimir’s? What would that mean for this little village when the Zaxson learns about it? His First Chosen and a human,” he said, clucking his tongue. “That would be cause for concern, would it not?”

Wosen snickered, walking away with his wineskin. Aizen watched him for a moment and then shook his head, moving to his home.

“Greetings Mother, Father,” Aizen said. “Is there some tea for me, too?”

Vot smiled, pouring him a large mug. “Your brother said that Wosen stopped you.”

“He did. Wosen gets stranger with each sun’s rise. I hardly recognize him anymore.”

“Ahni said much the same,” Huname said. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to know about our trip, but he questioned Pentanimir’s decision in bringing Brahanu here. He thought that he should’ve taken her to the Zaxson.”

“Even knowing what would happen to her? Are you certain?”

“Yes, Mother. He didn’t care about her and wouldn’t even say her name. He referred to her as, ‘female.’ It’s peculiar, even for Wosen.”

“Did he say anything else of note?” Vot asked.

“He did, well he asked it really. He mentioned that Brahanu might be pregnant. Is that true?”

Vot and Huname exchanged glances. The brothers had put themselves at risk to return Brahanu to Cazaal, and they deserved the truth.

“It’s true,” Vot said.

“Well, is Pentanimir the father?” Aizen asked.

“Did Wosen tell you that?”

“Not only, he also made a threat of sorts. Mayhaps a desire more than a threat. He mentioned Draizeyn finding out and what would happen to us. He laughed after, as if he jested, but his tone was cold.”

Huname shrugged, attempting to appear unmoved. “We really don’t know. With Wosen’s recent behavior, it could mean nothing or everything. Hosdaq was supposed to speak with him, but it’s obvious more is needed. For now, tell us what you’ve found.”

“We entered the Animus Wood near the Raphar as you asked,” Ahni began. “After nearly half a glass, we discovered a path. It was narrow with creepers and bushes surrounding it, and looked untraveled for some time.” He reached into his pack, removing several black, shiny stones. “The trail was littered with these of all sizes. But as we continued, there was this…this coolness and like, well, a shadow, I guess.”

“A shadow?” Vot asked.

“Of sorts. Aizen thought it was a trick of the light, but it appeared more to me. We kept following behind it, but never grew nearer. It was as if it was guiding us where we needed to go.”

“What? Did it make any sound?” Huname asked.

“No, there wasn’t any sound,” he said, his face contorting in confusion. “In fact, there was nothing. We didn’t even hear birds. It was silent.”

“Could the tales of the wood be true, Vot?” Huname asked. “Could the Animus Wood be filled with eidolons?”

“I’d need to learn more, my wife. Aizen’s assessment could be accurate. Go on, Ahni.”

“We continued farther south and west until we reached a clearing with large stones and a statue.”

“Yes, Father. We didn’t examine it closely, but it was beautiful and old. It was made of a material darker than those stones, and shined as if it was polished.”

Aizen nodded. “The woman was beautiful, Mother. The stone was black as pitch, and smooth. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even in Noraa.”

“I’ve heard of such statues in tales and myths,” Vot said. “But now that one has been discovered, could some of the myths surrounding them also be true?”

“That’s a question that we must ask Kuhani and Nzuri. They’ve studied the scrolls and Kuhani has trekked to the wood before. Mayhaps they can help us understand more of this,” Huname said, turning her attention back to Ahni. “What else did you find?”

“After we found the statue, we turned back around. We brought back some objects we found. Some appear to be weapons or tools of some sort. There are a lot of hills, but the road is easy enough. It was almost as if we were led where we needed to go.”

“By what?” his mother asked.

Aizen shrugged. “I’m not certain, but we didn’t search in vain. The path was hidden, and yet, it wasn’t. We could easily find it again.”

“You did well, my sons,” Vot said. “The information you’ve gathered will be of great use to us. We’ll need you to travel the path once more. This time, you’ll take a horse and cart to the wood. You have no need to venture to the clearing, but we must know how long it’d take a cart to make it safely there.”

“Yes, Father. We’ll leave on the morrow,” Aizen said.

“Oh, there’s no need for such haste. You go now and wash up. We’ll meet you in the hall for the morning meal.”

“Vot, didn’t you hear what they said?” Huname asked when they were alone.

He stood, walking to the narrow window. “I heard them.”

“Could the myths be true? Could they truly exist?”

“Those were just stories the old ones told children. How could such tales be true? If such beings existed, why haven’t they come to aid us. If they truly rule the lands, why have us suffer so under the Nazilians’ tyranny?”

“Could it be that they haven’t come because we haven’t called to them?”

“Called them? Huname, if one is divine, they don’t need a messenger. They’re aware of everything and know of our suffering. If they exist, they’ve done nothing to protect the people they’ve professed to love.”

Huname wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. “Husband, be still. We don’t know the truth of any of this. Ofttimes, if we ask not, we have not. How can we treat them as mythical creatures yet expect them to aid those who don’t believe? Mayhaps the fault lies in our lack of faith, not the truth of these beings. We’ll speak to Kuhani and learn if the scrolls can provide any clarification. No one can decipher these enigmas better than the warrior priest. If anyone has seen these beings or this—this sentient shadow, the scrolls will tell of it.”

“But so many were destroyed. Most accountings from the old ones are long gone.”

“Yes, but many remain. If Aizen and Ahni found this clearing and statue, there must be more. The Nazilians will come, and when they do, our path leads us to the wood. We need to prepare for this journey in every way that we can.”

“I expect you to find a home for our new city. Long have I desired the formation of a city to the west. Besides, you’ll need a place to rule once you’ve wed Denotra,” he said, raising his goblet.

Pentanimir shifted uncomfortably, grasping for an appropriate response.

“You honor me, Zaxson. Lady Denotra is the fairest in all the lands. To be blessed with such a wife and a city to oversee is more than most could likely dream. I don’t feel worthy of such blessings.”

“You honor us both, Zaxson,” Oxilon said. “Nazil’s hands will cover the lands with this expansion. But who will rule in Spero?”

“Yes, Spero. I’ve been considering that very thing. It’s been suggested that Daracus manage the city. He’s definitely capable, but I need him here. As my Nakshij, Daracus is invaluable. Mayhaps Pentanimir could ready Spero while we build the new city. Of course, everything depends on the state of the lands at the foot of the mountains.”

“Do—don’t you need me in Nazil, Zaxson?” Pentanimir asked.

“Pentanimir, the Zaxson is considering options,” Oxilon said. “As First Chosen, it’s your duty to follow our Zaxson’s commands. If he selects you to head Spero, that’s where you’ll go.”

“Your uncle speaks true, but you do as well. This journey is the first of many tasks that’ll be assigned to you. While you survey the lands, Daracus will prepare for an inspection in Spero. We need to move swiftly before the cold season is nigh.”

“It’ll be an honor, Zaxson. How far would you have us venture into the wood?”

“Venture to its end. The new city must be vast. There are reports of creatures not only in the mountains, but Dessalonia as well. If such tales are true, we’ll need many men.” He shrugged. “Albeit great men don’t fear things of tales.”

“This is true,” Pentanimir said. “But I’ve seen many things in my travels. At times, there’s truth in myths and tales.”

“As you say,” Draizeyn said, popping an olive into his mouth. “I would have you leave with the sun’s rise. Six of our strongest horses and two carts will be prepared. You’ll mark your path as you travel. If you find the lands suitable, the builders and slaves will follow and begin harvesting trees.”

“We’ll mark our path and the wood’s borders. This will give the builders proper measure for planning the great city.”

“See that it’s done,” Draizeyn said. “The stable slaves are preparing stakes now. They’ll load them and your necessary tools before you take leave. Is there anyone else that you want to accompany you?”

“I’ll give it some thought, Zaxson. If you asked Danimore, he’d request that our new attendant come. I fear that he’s grown quite fond of her meals,” Pentanimir laughed, gauging their response.

“Well, it’s fortuitous that you’re the head and not your brother,” Oxilon sneered. “Bringing a pregnant whore is unthinkable.”

“I understand young Danimore’s desire for fine food,” Draizeyn said. “I, too, travel with the cooks of my choice, however, such a slave is an insult to Nazil. Your uncle has the right of it. She’s a whore, carrying an abomination. If not for your brother’s insistence, she and her babe would’ve been put to death long ago. Denotra is still disappointed it wasn’t so. It’s good that he’s found a use for her. The incompetence she showed here was enough to have her flayed and hanged.”

“Indeed. It seems she’s finally begun to show her worth. Our chamber pots have never shined so,” Pentanimir chuckled.

Draizeyn joined in his mirth. “Now we can add chamber pots to the small list of duties that she does well. However, her mouth, now, that can work wonders,” he said, leaning forward. “At first, she seemed a little shy, but after adequate persuasion from ten or fifteen guards, she learned well. But I’ve never seen anything like the dark slave’s cock disappearing down her throat. We all thought she would surely choke from the reach of his massive cock.” He laughed. “Daracus misses that the most.”

Pentanimir swallowed down the bile in this throat, forcing a smile.

“Well, mayhaps I missed my opportunity,” Oxilon sniggered. “It’s been long since I’ve forced a slave on their knees.”

“The girl yet lives, Oxilon, you can still use her, but if you plan to enter, do so from behind. That swollen belly would certainly interrupt your thrusts. But the arse, now that’s a hole like no other.”

“Indeed, Zaxson. I’m sure my nephews wouldn’t object to me using her. Usually, I would find such a thing repulsive, but I’m intrigued by what you mentioned about her mouth.”

“Just between us, I’ve also partaken,” Draizeyn smirked. “It’s better when they’re fresh and unspoiled. The pleasure of filling their throats with my cock is quite satisfying. One slave choked from such an encounter,” he said, motioning for more wine. “It just saved us the task of gutting her later. Your slave might be small, Pentanimir, but her orifices are large.”

Pentanimir’s jaw clenched, thinking of Zeta and her child. He wanted to leave, but he needed to ensure her safety.

“As you say, Zaxson. Would it be possible to visit with your daughter before I take leave?”

“Ah, Denotra would enjoy such a visit,” Draizeyn said, snapping his fingers. When Surma came to his side, his expression soured. “Why isn’t Jahno attending his duties?”

“Zaxson, Lord Daracus called for him some time ago and he hasn’t returned.”

“Go and fetch Lady Denotra. After you’ve done so, go and retrieve Jahno. Make haste.”

“Yes, Zaxson,” Surma said, turning to leave.

“Surma,” Draizeyn said. “Have Sarai, Symeon, and Ceron bathed, oiled, and sent to our usual chamber. When my business is complete, I desire my pleasure. Such talk raises a heat in me,” he said, pulling his tunic down over the rise in his trousers.

“Zaxson, may I ask something of importance before I take leave?” Pentanimir said.

“It’s more an inquiry of my brother’s than mine. He’s been told that Zeta might be reassigned. We’d like her to remain in our service.”

“Why would you bother the Zaxson with such trivialities?” Oxilon snapped. “Your slave is of no importance.”

“Uncle, I was speaking to the Zaxson. It’s been some time since we’ve had an attendant, and if Zeta’s going to be reassigned, we’d like to know. At this point, she’s learned our habits and serves us well. Attendants are difficult to come by of late. Wouldn’t it be prudent to know if we’d need to find another?”

“He’s right, Oxilon. We have but a few able to serve in the city. Until another shipment arrives, we must make do. I don’t see any reason why the slave would be reassigned. I have no further interest in her. The pleasures and entertainment she provided were short-lived.”

“Thank you, Zaxson. In your wisdom, I’m confident that you’d allow the babe to remain as well. This would ensure a future generation of attendants for not only our household, but also our great city.”

“You ask too much, Nephew. These abominations are an insult to Nazil! Their death is payment for crimes against our great city.”

Draizeyn nodded. “This is our way. There’s no greater insult than a child born of such a mix. Some are allowed to remain if they have no Nazilian features. My cupbearer’s sire was Nazilian, but no one can tell that by his appearance. We can’t tolerate such obscenities.”

“I agree,” Pentanimir lied. “If a Nazilian chose to breed with a human, it would be a blight upon our fair city. Both parents should be punished for such insolence.”

“Now you speak like a Chosen of Nazil, Nephew. This is the only way to dissuade such disgusting behavior.”

Pentanimir inclined his head, facing Draizeyn again. “How then are we to punish the father when so many of our guards used the girl? I was told that even the Cha used her for their purge. Who along with her shall we punish for such an offense against our great peoples and city?”

Draizeyn and Oxilon looked bemused by the question.

“Zaxson, I mean no disrespect,” Pentanimir continued. “I only hope to shine a light on the flaw in our reasoning. When we receive shipments of slaves, some are maiden as Zeta was. They become pregnant after being used by the guards. The mothers can’t choose whether to carry the babe. Unless they’re provided the maiden’s tears , the abomination is forced upon us. In Zeta’s case, you mentioned her pleasuring the slaves as well. Her child could be human.” He paused, allowing that point to penetrate. “Why not allow these young mothers to bring their babes forth? This would ensure the next generation of slaves. We wouldn’t need to capture them if they’re bred here in Nazil. They won’t know any other way to live, and they’d be grateful for their service. It’d be easier to manage a slave from birth than ones who’ve been captured as an adult.”

“Your words aren’t void of reason,” Draizeyn said. “Daracus and I spoke about the same not long ago. In the time of my father’s father, we bred many slaves. However, never with those of Nazil. They served well until their passing. Until we perfected the maiden’s tears , too many became sterile or died. That would no longer be an issue. Mayhaps this plan has merit. I’ll think on it further before I make a final decision. Until then, you may consider the fate of your slave’s babe favorable. Ceron was permitted to keep her son until a buyer was found for him. But if others counsel me against this, I might alter my decision accordingly.”

“Of course, Zaxson. It should be no other way,” Pentanimir said as the doors opened. When Denotra entered, he stood, taking her hand.

“My Lady, your beauty, and presence brightens this room and my heart.”

“Thank you, Pentanimir,” she blushed, sitting beside her father.

Pentanimir winced, seeing them side by side. She had the look and build of Draizeyn, and that unpleasant truth caused his stomach to sour.

“Denotra, Pentanimir leaves on the morrow to do duty for Nazil. He asked to see you before he takes leave.”

“I’m pleased.” She smiled. “Pentanimir, would you walk with me?”

“It would be an honor,” Pentanimir said, extending out his elbow. “If it pleases you, Zaxson, I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes, Pentanimir. I’ll see you on the morrow.”

“Zaxson, Uncle.”

Denotra dismissed her guard, drawing Pentanimir closer.

“How do you fare, my lady?”

“That depends on you. A little bird sang a sweet song in my ear during your absence. If the bird’s song is false, everything is fine.”

“My lady, I don’t know of any little birds who know a song about me. Perhaps if you’d sing a measure or two, I could ease your mind.”

“Oh, the little bird sang of the Chosen of Nazil fleeing our great city. Surely, his song was confused with another.”

“Does it look like I’ve fled the city? Your little bird desires much, I think. He’d do better to learn a different song. My place is in Nazil.” Pentanimir smiled. “And soon, my place will be at your side.”

“Well, at hearing that, I’m quite well indeed.” She squeezed his arm, turning toward her chambers.

“My lady, I’m supposed to—”

“Call me Denotra. It would warm my heart to hear my name from your lips.”

“As you wish. Denotra, I need to prepare the men for the morrow. I shouldn’t linger or keep you from your studies.”

“Oh, I sent Cha Reaglen away as soon as I heard that you were here. My father puts great faith in him, but as a magister, he’s quite a bore. All the begats and begots, this name and that, it holds little interest for me. Besides, soon you’ll be my husband. That’s what holds my interest. We’ve had so little time of late. Not like when we were children, and you’d visit the citadel with your honorable father.”

“Many things change as we grow and accept responsibility, Denotra. Childhood is only for a season.”

She smiled, opening her doors and shooing Leanta out.

“You speak true. And we’re no longer children, are we?” Denotra said, pushing him against the door and kissing him. Her hands explored his body, ending between his thighs.

“My—my lady, please,” he said on the verge of panic. “It’s not proper for me to be alone in your chamber. I fear that your father would have my head if he learned about this.”

“Well, at least I’d know where to find it,” she said, glancing down.

“It’s not your touch, it’s my guilt. I’m the First Chosen of Nazil, and I’ll not dishonor the Zaxson’s daughter.”

“Honor? I seek only pleasure. I’ve heard the servants whisper about your size and your skill as a lover. Did you think the whores in the pleasure houses wouldn’t brag about being bedded by the First Chosen of Nazil?”

“My lady, I meant no dishonor to you. It’s been four seasons since I’ve frequented such places. When my uncle spoke of this pledge, I no longer sought the pleasure of such women. It’s only you that I’ve dreamt of pleasuring.”

“If that’s so, secure the door and come to me.”

“My lady, I can’t—”

“You will. Well, unless you’d have me scream for my guard.”

“Does this please you?”

“The sight of you is always pleasing,” he said, reaching out to caress her.

“If you were in a pleasure house, what would you do if I were your whore?”

“My whore? I have none, and would never think of you that way.”

“Pentanimir, I’m directing you to touch me as you would them. I want to feel you grow at the thought of me.”

“As you bid.” Pentanimir pulled the bodice lower, leaning down to taste her. His mind returned to Brahanu then. Lowering a hand, his fingers began to explore as the motion of his tongue increased. Denotra’s back arched, covering her mouth to muffle her moans.

With Brahanu’s face in his mind, his arousal grew, causing Denotra to whimper. As her pleasure peaked, she grasped his back, trying to pull him closer. Pentanimir offered a final caress when she yelled out, twitching beneath him.

After wiping his hand on the blanket, he wordlessly walked over to the divan against the wall.

“Pentanimir, why have you left me?” she asked, breathlessly.

“You’ve overwhelmed me, my lady. Didn’t I please you?”

“You did. I can’t wait to feel all of you.”

“I desire it, but I won’t dishonor your father. He trusts me with you, Denotra.” He pulled up his tunic, revealing his excitement. “If I were able, I’d please you without end.”

“Gods, the whispers are true. I can’t wait until I can have you.”

“I feel the same,” he said, standing and unlatching the door. “For now, my duty awaits, my lady. Thank you for allowing me to pleasure you. Thoughts of your beauty will warm me during my travels.” When she attempted to rise, he backed out of the door, avoiding the guard’s eyes. After he turned into the main corridor, Oxilon was approaching.

“Pentanimir, I thought you’d left some time ago.”

“We have much to discuss,” Oxilon said, exiting beside him.

“What needs to be discussed, Uncle? Did the Zaxson mention something in my absence?”

“You know of what I speak,” he whispered, grabbing his shoulder. “We need to speak about that whore and her babe.”

“We don’t need to discuss something that the Zaxson has already decided. Now, if you’d excuse me, I need to prepare for my duty.”

Itai sighed, tossing and turning in his bed. He was fatigued, yet sleep was elusive. His father was abed upon his return, and that frustrated him. He’d wanted to tell Tioch about Brahanu and their plans to wed. At least with that, his father’s mind would be at ease. It hadn’t been easy for either of them continuing to wait for their marriage. Now that it was happening, his joy was greater than the pain of her confession.

A wistful smile found his face, experiencing both the joy and pain of his musings. “Soon you’ll be my wife, and our lives will truly begin.”

A loud clanking from the corridor brought him from his contemplation. He sat up, pulling on a tunic as the noise became louder. Quickly wrenching the door open, the loud clank of pots and pans hitting the floor echoed down the corridor.

“Ahhh curses!” she spat, resting her hands on her hips.

“Naji? What’re you doing?” Itai asked, picking up the mess.

“What does it look like I’m do’n, boy? Takin’ my pots back ta the kitchen.”

“Ask yer old pa why,” she said, continuing down the corridor. “He takes my stuff and puts it all over the place. Found these out in that work area holdin’ up some sorta board. Don’t know how he ‘spects me ta do my cookin’ when he keeps takin’ my pots.”

Itai clumsily fumbled with the pots, trailing behind her. “I’m sure that he would’ve returned them. Could be you should’ve left them where they were.”

“Humph! How can I start the stew if’n I don’t have my biggest cookin’ pot? As tough as this meat is, I need ta simmer it all morn ta make it soft ‘nough for evenin’ meal. Or would ya ruther I lose the few remainin’ teeth I got tryin’ ta eat?”

“No, Naji. I just meant—”

“I know what ‘cha meant, boy. Now put them pots over on that table. I needs be getting’ mornin’ meal made, and fetch water for the stew.” Naji turned, looking at him with sad, wrinkled eyes. “When ya get here anyways? Thought ya was out gettin’ that girl of yers.”

“I did, but I returned late. I wanted to talk to Papa, but he was already abed.”

“He was abed alright. Got in ta that wineskin early and nearly missed his meal. I made sure he woke up long ‘nough ta eat it. Elsewise, I’d have ta hear it from him for the next ten suns. Why I put up with that pa of yers I just don’t know. Might find me some nice house in need of some good cookin’ and leave this place.”

Itai laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You won’t leave us, Naji. What would you do without Papa to argue with? I think you two live to aggravate each other.”

“Well, maybe so. At least I got ya here ta keep me off ‘em. You’ve always been a good boy, Itai. Now, hand me that sac a oats.”

Naji had been more of a mother to Itai than a helper in their home. When first she came, it was only to be his wet nurse and aid his mother. But as the years passed, she remained to help care for him after his mother died. When Itai thought back over his childhood, it was old Naji’s face that he remembered most.

“I should wash and dress, Naji. Do you need anything else?”

“Yer all thumbs, boy. Well, in the kitchen, anyways. Go on and get yerself dressed. Wake up that old grouch while yer at it. If ya can’t rouse him, a cold pail of water’ll do the trick,” she cackled, stirring her pot.

Itai chuckled, moving down the corridor. When he reached his chamber, he pulled on a pair of trousers and his leather boots. As he washed in his basin, noises from outside drew his attention. He dried his face before allowing in the morning air. Movement in the village had begun early. He watched his neighbors pushing their carts and hustling along the streets. Soon, I’ll no longer wake alone, he thought, walking to his father’s chamber.

He could still hear Naji clanking pots and spoons in the kitchen, knowing she only did it to disturb his father. He was glad that they’d have each other after he’d wed Brahanu.

He knocked lightly on his father’s door, but when no answer came, he knocked louder and longer.

“Get away from my door, old woman.” Tioch yelled before something crashed against the door.

Itai knocked again, entering cautiously. As soon as his shadow shone on the wall, a boot whizzed past his head.

“Papa! It’s me.”

“Oh, well, announce yerself ‘afore comin’ into a man’s room.”

“Who did you think would come to your room at this hour?”

“All hells, who knows. Thought it was that old woman come to bother me again. I swear: she does things just to get at me.” Tioch went to his chamber pot, emptying his bladder. “Well, what ya come here so early for? Did Naji put ya up to it? Always robbin’ a man of his rest, she is.”

“Papa,” Itai said, handing him a tunic. “Naji didn’t send me, well, she does want you to come for morning meal, but she’s not the reason.”

“Ha! I knew she was after me.”

“Papa, please, listen.”

“All right, Itai. Have ya news of the girl?”

“Yes, Brahanu is home and more beautiful than when last I saw her.”

“Of course, she is, son. More beautiful, more precious, more, more, more. Yet, no closer to fulfillin’ her promise. If I was ya, I would—”

“You’re not me. A lot has happened, and I’m glad to have her home.”

“Well, that’s true ‘nough. But ya can’t blame a pa for carin’ for the treatment of his son. Sometimes I feel they think we just ain’t good ‘nough to join with ‘em.” Tioch waved a hand to silence any coming retort. “Now, I know Hacom’s a pretty good fella. He don’t act all high falutin like some. Still, to let a young girl decide her promised time just ain’t right. Hells, yer papa ain’t getting’ no younger, Itai. I’m six and forty. It’d be good to see ya wed and have a lil one or two while I yet breathe,” Tioch said, draining the cup at his bedside.

“If you’d allow me to finish, I’ll tell you what we decided.”

“What’s been decided now? She need ‘nother two years to learn a new trade?”

“No, Brahanu wants to wed as soon as the Nohek can arrange it.”

“Ya gonna wed soon?”

“Yes and Brahanu asked about it, not me. She wants us to be together now, not later.”

“Forgive an old man, Itai. I meant no disrespect toward yer promised. I just worry ‘bout ya and want ya happy. Yer mum and I had to wait too long to marry. Her pa didn’t think me fittin’ for his daughter, but no other fella came ‘round askin’. After he passed, her mum let us get married. By then, that fever made yer mum ill. Four babes was lost ‘afore we was blessed with ya. Ya was so small and frail in the beginnin’; yer mum cried most of the time, fearin’ the gods would take ya, too. I didn’t want the same for ya and Brahanu.”

“I know, Papa, but don’t worry. We’ll marry soon, and fill our home with children.”

Tioch stood, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Papa, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

“I’m pleased by yer news, but I’m thinkin’ ‘bout other things.”

“Like what? I’m marrying soon, and you’ll have a new babe bearing the Gael name before three seasons have past.”

“Son, I need to ask somethin’, and I want only truth.”

“Of course, Papa.”

“Have ya ever laid with a woman?”

Itai stood, turning toward the door. “Why’re you asking that?”

“Ain’t no need to answer, yer tone told me what I wanted. I’m not tryin’ to embarrass ya. Ya done loved one woman since ya was a child. Hells, yer twenty now, and with the trips to Noraa and Kaleo, I was sure ya took a whore or two abed.”

“I don’t want a whore, I only want to share myself with my wife, with Brahanu.”

“Ain’t no shame in that, but ya talkin’ ‘bout babes and beddin’. If’n ya ain’t ever been with a woman, how ya gonna know how to please one?”

“I’ll manage. It’s a simple thing to become one with her.”

“I think we should go down to break our fast. If we don’t, Naji’s liable to feed our food to the pigs.”

Tioch snickered. “Ya ain’t lyin’. Wouldn’t be the first time she tossed my food to the pigs. That don’t change what I’m sayin’ though. Ya don’t know nothin’ ‘bout pleasin’ a woman. Some say it don’t matter none, but they’s wrong.”

“Papa, please, I really don’t—”

“Look, I know ya rather talk with Aschelon or Manto ‘bout such things, but they ain’t never been in love with a woman, not like ya are. They never had anyone in their lives that meant more to them than life itself. I know I’m not the best pa a man could have, but I love my son. Let me help ya. If ya love Brahanu half as much as I loved yer mum, ya’d want her happy. Will ya let me help ya, son?”

Itai’s faced flushed. “You’ve always been a wonderful Papa, far more than you know. All right, I’ll listen.”

Tioch smiled, clapping him on the back. “Well, good. First, we best get to the kitchen. That old woman’s mean as a snake if her meal sits cold.”

She slipped from the bed, testing the water in her basin. She smiled, splashing the warm water on her face. After pulling on her robe, she leaned down, kissing Ameya.

“I love you,” she whispered.

As soon as she exited her room, the excited voices claimed her attention. She quickened her pace, hearing her mother speaking about the ceremony with their attendants. Almaz and Malia hurried off when she entered the kitchen.

“Brahanu, we thought you’d still be abed,” Amani said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I slept well, Mother. I’d almost forgotten the comfort of my room. It was nice sleeping without the room growing cold during the night.”

“Almaz tended your hearth and fetched hot water for your basin,” Amani said, pouring her a cup of tea. “She knows how much you love having your room toasty, and waking to warm water without having to visit the common room.”

“I’ve missed that,” Brahanu said. “Will Father meet Nohek Glennon this morning?”

“Oh, Brahanu, your father left with the rise of the sun. He’s eager to begin preparations for your ceremony. Malia and Almaz are readying the bath for you now. We must meet with Nesrine regarding your gown. Your brother’s readying to meet with Chef Ludel as well.”

“Is the entire house so eager to be rid of me?”

“No, little dove, we’re pleased that you’ve decided to wed. After thinking we’d lost you—” Amani stopped, shaking her head. “It’s a blessing to have you back home with us, and past time that you begin your life with Itai. I hope that you know how much he loves you.”

For a moment, Pentanimir entered her mind. A pang twisted in her gut, forcing the image away.

“I love Itai endlessly,” she said. “When I was lost, thoughts of home and Itai are what helped me endure. I had to be with all of you again,” Brahanu said, walking to the fire. She hadn’t lied, but she wasn’t completely honest, either. Pentanimir had a place in her heart, too. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remove him from it.

“That’s why I asked Itai about our wedding. He was gracious to allow me another year to train with Briac. In his place, I don’t know if I would’ve agreed to another delay. Itai means much more to me than studying with the lakaar , and I want to begin our life together.”

“Don’t worry, Brahanu,” Amani said, embracing her. “You’re home with us now, and your life will truly begin.”

“Well, it seems you’re celebrating without hearing my good news,” Hacom said, entering the kitchen. “Have you something of worth to share with me?”

Brahanu ran over to him, enfolding him into her arms. “We’re only celebrating being together again, Father. I missed you terribly.”

“There, there, little dove. I missed you, too,” he said, looking over at his wife. “Amani, you both should sit. I have news from the Nohek Karab.”

“Don’t just stand there, Hacom, tell us.”

“Nohek Glennon assured me that the ceremony can be performed in five suns.”

“So soon, Hacom? How?”

“Don’t worry about the hows and whys of it. Know that it’s a blessing and accept it as such. However, this depends on having your gown made ready, Brahanu. You need to dress and meet with Nesrine. I’m sending Irani over to fetch Itai. You both need to be measured so they can begin the appropriate garments. Amani, you and Ameya should attend as well. I’m sure you want new gowns made for the both of you and have those fancy braids put in your hair. Hells, the braids alone will take near a sun.”

“What about you, Hacom? Won’t you and Julaybeim need a new suit of clothes and armor?”

“Psssttt. We don’t need any such thing. How often do we don such attire?”

“Oh, Father! Thank you. You’ve made me the happiest woman in all the lands.”

“Oh, little dove, I’d move mountains for you. Now, you scoot and ready yourself. You, too, Amani, and have Malia ready your sister. There’s much to do, and we have little time.”

Pentanimir sat up in bed, combing his fingers through his hair. His thoughts were on Brahanu and his obligation to Denotra. At that moment, he wished that he could leave Nazil behind, but that wasn’t possible, not for him. He was the First Chosen, and that meant a different life and a difficult path.

He tossed the blanket away, sitting on the side of the bed. The air in the room seemed cool, yet sweat beaded on his brow. Though his rest was short, he decided to prepare for his duty. He thought about Brahanu and their son again, aching to be near them.

He sighed, heading down to the kitchen for some mulled wine. He usually preferred tea with his morning meal…not this day.

“Pentanimir, I—I—didn’t mean to wake you,” Zeta said.

“You didn’t. My thoughts betrayed my sleep. I was coming for some mulled wine and that fried bread of yours.”

Zeta strained to stand, and began preparing his meal, but when he noticed her wince, he moved to her side.

“Why don’t you rest, Zeta. I can get what I need.”

“The least I can do is fill your belly. You and your brother have done so much for me. Besides, you have a long trip ahead of you.”

He gently nudged her to a chair. “Please, sit. I see your discomfort. Is this what disturbed your rest?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “It should pass soon.”

“What did Hushar tell you?”

“She said that everything is fine, and the babe is growing large. Hushar believes it’ll come before the next full moon. That could be all it is. I’ll be all right.”

“I don’t like you being here alone when you’re ailing. I think I’ll ask if Yannick would allow one of his attendants to look in on you. There’s a young lady named Gali that’s good with herbs. He might allow it.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it, Pentanimir. It’ll pass.”

“I do worry, Zeta, not only about your condition, but also about you being alone. Too many know that you’re here and that we’ll be away. I’d feel better knowing that someone is with you. Yannick has been like my brother for years, or at least he was before Oxilon and he became so close. He shouldn’t’ have an issue with permitting Gali to come. Well, if you agree, that is.”

“All right, milord. Now, can I fix your meal?”

He returned her smile, gesturing toward the hearth. “If it pleases you.”

“While you tend to that, I’ll fetch more water. Dani will bring in the second barrel and fill it before we leave. This way, you should have enough to last until our return. You know he doesn’t want you to fill them yourself.”

“Yes, and I’ve finally listened.”

“You push yourself too hard, Zeta. Try and take care and rest when you need to.”

As Pentanimir rounded the corner, he nearly collided with Danimore. He yawned, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Pardon, Brother,” Pentanimir said, steading Danimore’s stance. “I thought you were still abed.”

“My rest wouldn’t come. I was going to have some honey milk.”

“It appears that none of us could find sleep this night.”

“None? Is Zeta awake?”

He nodded. “She’s preparing some mulled wine now. I’m going to fetch water for the barrel. Join her, she’d like the company.”

When he arrived, Zeta was warming bread on a flat piece of iron above the flames. He kissed her cheek and took a seat at the table, draining the mug.

“That was for your brother.”

“He can pour another. Besides, this would’ve grown cold before he’s finished his task.”

“These are for your brother as well, but I doubt if he’d miss one or two. Are you hungry?”

“No, but help yourself. My stomach won’t welcome food.”

“Are you all right, Dani?”

“It’s this journey. It feels wrong to me, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be all right, and promise to rest.”

He gazed into her eyes, attempting to keep the angst from his. It was for naught: his grief and concern were evident, as if it were a corporeal being, perched directly in front of him. “If I could refuse this assignment, I would.”

“But you can’t,” Zeta said, finding a place on his lap. “This is an important assignment and Pentanimir needs you. There was much talk of the new city in the market.”

“And what did they say?” Pentanimir asked as he entered.

“Many were talking about new leaders and builders. Some even mentioned the dangers of the mountains. But most were eager to learn what was beyond the forest and hills.”

“And what do you think lies beyond the forest, Zeta?” Danimore asked.

She shrugged, pouring mugs of mulled wine. “I don’t know. Mountains, rivers, animals, and more trees,” she giggled. “You’ll discover the secret of the wood. I’m sure of it.”

As she reached up for the honey, she cried out, stumbling against the counter.

“Zeta!” Danimore rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? Is it the babe?”

“Dani, take her to her chamber. I’m going to get Gali.”

He scooped her up in his arms, rushing down the corridor. “No, Brother. We need Hushar, she’ll know what to do.”

“Dani, use your mind. We can’t call for the Zaxson’s servant again, especially at this hour. Yannick always speaks highly of Gali, and I know that she can help us.”

“All right, just please hurry,” Danimore said.

“I’ll be back before half a glass. Help Zeta undress and use the oils. I’ll return with haste.”

After removing her clothes, Danimore rubbed the oils over her stomach and then propped the cushions behind her. “This is why you slept in your own room. You didn’t want me to know.”

“I’m sorry, Dani. I just didn’t want you or Pentanimir to worry. It’ll pass.”

“You shouldn’t have kept this from us. You’re pregnant and need to take care. I know you think it’s a bother, but it’s not, never could it be,” he said, ending his massage with a kiss. He pulled her blankets up and went to tend the hearth.

“Are you warm enough?”

She nodded, reaching out for his hand.

“If I could stay and look after you, I would. This assignment has come at the worst of times.”

“It’s necessary, and you’re doing this not only for Nazil, but also for me.”

“Yes. I don’t want to return to the citadel. Pentanimir ensured my placement for now, but if you anger the Zaxson, he could change his mind. If I was forced away from you, I wouldn’t last, Dani…neither would my child.”

“I wouldn’t allow it. I promised to keep you safe and I’ll hold to that.”

When she began to answer, Pentanimir entered the room with Gali. As Danimore motioned her over to the bed, he stepped away, allowing her room to work.

“When did you first start having pain?” Gali asked.

“It’s been about three or four suns.”

“Zeta, why didn’t you say anything?” Danimore said.

“I thought that it would pass, truly.”

“I’ll need to check inside for the position of the babe,” Gali said, turning to Pentanimir and Danimore. “Pardon, milords, I’ll need some privacy if you’d allow.”

“No, please, Gali, it’s all right.”

“If you wish.” Zeta focused on Danimore as Gali pulled the blankets back, sliding an oiled hand inside of her. When she winced, Danimore stepped forward, but Pentanimir stopped him.

“May I have a clean cloth?” Gali asked, removing her fingers.

After cleansing in the basin, she dried her hands, sitting beside Zeta again.

“Sirs, do you have oils of aloe, olive, and kuzbarah?” Gali asked.

“We’ve had no need, but there’s kuzbarah,” Pentanimir said.

“She’s fine now, but her babe’s coming soon. You’ll need to have the oils and a few other things before that time.”

“What do we need?” Pentanimir asked.

Gali looked bemused for a moment, not understanding their concern. “You’ll need sheets of wool, olive oil, a pillow or soft place to lay the babe, bladders to fill with warm oils and water, and herbs for pain and soreness. If you don’t have sewing needles and thread, you’ll need those, too.”

“We must visit the market soon,” Danimore said. “I can get some this morning; the others will have to wait.”

“Yes, milord,” Gali said, covering Zeta again. “I’ll need to make some warm broth for her. Dream wine would serve best, but the herbs must do. She needs rest more than anything now. Will you please direct me to your kitchen?”

“Come with me,” Pentanimir said. “Dani, you remain here with Zeta. I’ll assist Gali in the kitchen.”

Pentanimir pulled some herbs from the shelf, leading Gali from the room. As they entered the kitchen, she immediately began mixing the herbs in a shallow pan and set it over the fire.

“Gali, will Sir Merrimont allow you to tend Zeta daily?”

“Mayhaps if you request it, Sir Benoist. It would be my pleasure to do so.”

“How long have you been with Sir Merrimont? I recall him mentioning you often, but I’ve only seen you a few times.”

“Twelve, no, sixteen seasons, milord.”

“Four years?” Pentanimir shook his head, recalling how often Yannick had spoken of Gali. She was near Zeta’s age when he’d purchased her, and Yannick never tired of her pleasures. In fact, he’d bragged about them often…too often.

That thought caused his mood to sour. Gali was a lovely young woman and intelligent as well. Yannick spoke of her fondly, and he couldn’t help but wonder about the life that was stolen from her.

“Gali, Sir Merrimont has mentioned that you were a healer before arriving in Nazil.”

“Yes, milord, for many years,” she said, adding honey to the steaming liquid.

“Have you ever delivered any babes?”

Pentanimir flinched. He wanted to ask if she knew Brahanu’s family, but thought better of it. “Do you think Zeta will be all right until we return?” He asked instead.

Gali smiled up at him, her large, ebony eyes glistering in the fire’s light. “It’s good that you care for them. If she rests, everything will be fine. The babe could arrive sooner if she doesn’t stay abed. With you and Sir Danimore departing, mayhaps her duties will be light enough to allow it.”

“I hope so. We do worry about her. When I see you home, I’ll ask Sir Merrimont if he’ll permit you to visit. We’d rest easier knowing that she was under your care.”

Gali nodded, handing him the mug. “It’ll be an honor, my lord. This broth is ready. She’ll need to drink all of it and warm the rest later. It’ll ease her soreness and allow her to rest.”

“Thank you. I’ll give this to Dani and be back in a moment.”

After delivering the broth, he escorted Gali out, helping her into the cart. He was still curious about her ties to Cazaal, and considered how to ask about it.

“Gali, you mentioned Kaleo and Cazaal. Was one of them your home?”

“Yes. I was born in Hyorin, but my family moved to Kaleo after the troubles there. I was merely a babe at that time. It was difficult in the beginning, with so many relocating to start a new life. It was better for my parents, though, since my father was a lakaar . I learned all I know about healing from my parents. I was training to replace my father in a few years, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Tell me: how did you come to Nazil?”

“Milord?” Gali peered over at him, the trepidation seeping into every part of her.

“I asked how you came to Nazil.”

“Uhm—Sir, I was brought here along with one other. There were three, but one was lost in the depths.”

“Brought here? Was your ship ambushed?”

“My—my master treats me well, and my duties are light. I’m honored to serve such a fine house,” she muttered, looking away from him.

The twinge in his gut worsened. “What about your friend who was brought here with you?”

“It wasn’t my friend. It was my father.”

“Your father? Is he one of Sir Merrimont’s attendants?”

“No, milord,” Gali said, finding the courage to raise her eyes to his. “He was killed during our first season.”

Pentanimir winced. He wanted to offer some words of comfort, but there were none to be had. After what Gali had suffered, there was nothing to soothe such an ache or erase those painful memories.

He was relieved when they approached Yannick’s home. They didn’t speak as she entered, leaving him in the solar while fetching Yannick. Although the home was quiet, the eruption of thoughts and regrets inside of him weren’t. They screamed at every part of him, and he didn’t think they’d ever quiet again.

“Pentanimir,” Yannick said warmly, tying his robe.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, old friend. I wanted to thank you for allowing Gali to tend Zeta.”

Yannick motioned for him to sit. “Whenever you have a need, my friend. You’ve done much for my family and me.”

Gali returned, carrying a tray of refreshments. After serving them, she went to the corner, awaiting instruction.

“It’s good wine, Yannick. A sweet blend.”

“It’s one of Sidra’s favorites. I try to keep an ample supply for guests. But you know how she is with wine, and even more so with food.” Both men laughed at the private jest regarding Yannick’s full-figured wife.

“How fares Bastian?” Pentanimir asked. “It’s been too long since we found the practice yard.”

“He trains hard in hopes of joining the Chosen Guard. Birthing Bastian was the one thing Sidra did well. For now, he’s visiting Xonath Karrhig in Yarah. He misses the lessons of his godfather, though.”

“I miss it as well. Bastian has always been like a son to me, as you are my brother.”

“And you are mine, First Chosen. I owe you much.”

“Yannick, your offer of assistance is well received,” he said, bringing the conversation back to its purpose. “I came to ask if Gali could tend to Zeta in our absence. It would only be necessary once daily if you’d allow.”

“Of course, but why such concern for your slave? If she’s unable to tend to her duties, why not rid yourself of her and acquire another? That would surely please your uncle.”

“It’s not as simple as that. Zeta’s duties aren’t the issue, her condition is. If she doesn’t receive proper care, her condition could worsen. In that case, we’d have to acquire another. It’s simpler to provide the care she needs than replace her.”

“As you say. I’ll send Gali over after evening meal. She’s experienced with herbs and healing and I’m certain that she’ll serve you well. If that isn’t so—” Yannick threw a glance in her direction. “It’ll be a disappointment that she’ll not soon forget.”

“There’s no need for concern, Yannick,” Pentanimir offered, quickly, noticing Gali’s expression. “Gali is extremely knowledgeable and provided great care. It’s a blessing to have such an attendant for your home.”

“Ah, yes. She is indeed, in many ways.” Yannick licked his lips. “Would you like to sample what she has to offer before your journey? It’s been long since we visited the pleasure houses, old friend. Gali’s skill rivals that of the most seasoned whore, and I’m selective about who I allow to partake. Recently, I’ve refused everyone who asked, no matter the gold they offered, but you’re my brother. Gali can lessen your stress and satisfy you like none you’ve ever had,” Yannick said, gesturing Gali to his side. He raised her tunic, exposing wisps of curly black hair.

She pulled her tunic over her head, allowing it to drop to the floor. Yannick smiled, reaching up, caressing her smooth, chestnut-colored skin. He rested her hand over his groin, while one of his found its way between her thighs. Gali grimaced as his movements increased, still stimulating him. When he removed his hand, his fingers glistened.

“You see, she’s always ready to be pleasured. No matter how many times I take her, it remains tight.” He sniffed his fingers euphorically, licking the wetness from them. As his excitement grew, he gripped her arse while caressing one of her breasts.

“Have you ever seen nipples this dark and round? At first, I found them unsightly, but I learned that they bring me great pleasure,” he smiled, stroking one with the tip of his finger. “See how large they grow at the slightest touch?”

Pentanimir was sickened, unable to believe that Yannick was capable of such depravity. Since his interactions with Oxilon, he’d become vile and almost sadistic. Though Yannick was nearly ten years his senior, he’d always been respectful.

“If you choose not to enter her, I’ll permit her to please you with her mouth,” Yannick continued. “It took some time, but she’s the best I’ve had. This, she does for only me.” He smiled. “My Gali always knows how to please me, don’t you, my Sweetling,” he said, drawing her down for a kiss. He moaned, fondling her breast again, and then kissing down to them, while pushing his robe aside. “Oh…Sweetling,” Yannick said, positioning her on his lap and becoming part of her.

“No, thank you, Yannick. I haven’t the time for such activities, but Gali is quite beautiful.” Pentanimir turned away.

“Oh, she’s that and more,” he said, straining through his completion. “Gods…Gali,” Yannick called out, enjoying her ample chest. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Pentanimir. She’s the only one who can satisfy me so quickly.” Yannick pulled her in for a kiss, before moving her from his lap. Gali grabbed up her tunic, rushing back over to the corner to cover herself.

“Thank you for your hospitality and allowing Gali to assist us, Yannick. I’ll repay you in kind,” Pentanimir said, standing to leave.

Yannick fastened his robe, taking a long drink. “There’s no need. It’s always an honor to assist your house. If not for you, I wouldn’t hold my current position. I owe you and your father much.”

“Sir Manifir thought highly of you, just as I do. I’ll inform Zeta of Gali’s visits. If you’ll excuse me,” Pentanimir said, inclining his head.

As Gali opened the door for him, he noticed the tears lining her eyes. Pentanimir rested a hand on hers, but could do or say nothing more.

“Make haste, Gali, I need to taste your sweetness,” Yannick called out from behind her. Her eyes lowered, closing the door.

As Pentanimir rode back to his home, Gali wouldn’t leave his mind. It wasn’t merely her servitude, it was the way Yannick had taken her right there in front of him. Not even in the pleasure houses had he ever done such a thing.

Although he was raised around servants, his attention never rested on their treatment. Manifir, his father, was always kind to those who served their home. To him, they were workers providing a service. Since discovering the Bandari village, his thoughts couldn’t turn from them. Before being forced here, they, too, had families they loved. They’re people, just as we. What perplexed and disappointed him was the fact that he’d never contemplated those deeper truths before.

After stowing his horse, he paused, lowering a hand to his pommel.

“Nephew.” Oxilon’s tone was surprisingly pleasant as he came into view.

“Uncle? What brings you here at such an hour? Could you not find rest?”

“I rise before the sun as did your father, and you’d be wise to do the same. Much can be learned from observing the city in both darkness and light.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Pentanimir said, entering his home with Oxilon following close behind.

Pentanimir nearly rolled his eyes, going to the kitchen.

“What did Yannick say about Gali?” Danimore asked, rushing down the corridor.

“Gali? Is that the dark slave that I saw you with?”

Danimore’s mouth gaped. “Un—Uncle, welcome. I—I didn’t know you were here. Come to see us off?”

“You haven’t answered my question. What were you doing with the Merrimont’s slave?”

Danimore sighed. “She came to tend Zeta, nothing more.”

“Again, with this? Must the entire city know of your care for this whore? Your father would be infuriated by such behavior. He wouldn’t allow it.”

“Uncle, please,” Pentanimir interrupted. “Father knew that providing good care for our attendants was an investment worth making. Mithu was with us for years, and when she ailed, Father had her tended well. It was that care that kept her in our service. No, Father wouldn’t be infuriated. It’s his lessons, values, and guidance that have shaped us into who we are. You place your values upon his shoulders, but we remember well the teachings of our father and hold to them.”

“You hold this whore up to Mithu as though they’re equal? Mithu was Nazilian, and only her station caused her to serve. This whore you treat as a wife is diseased human filth. There’s no parity between the two.”

Danimore’s face darkened. “Yes, Mithu was Nazilian and still served. I find no difference between them. Well, as I think of it, there is a distinct difference, Uncle. Because Mithu resembled us, she didn’t have to suffer rape and torture. Her maidenhead wasn’t brutally taken from her by hordes of Nazilian reprobates. No, she wasn’t taken captive and forced to perform obscenities at the whim of sick and twisted animals touting, honor above all while claiming to be men. She wasn’t ripped, torn, beaten, and forced to carry a child she never wanted. We save such treatment for those who don’t look like us. We make them what they are because we loathe who we are. I wonder if you’d think the same if Zeta were a Nazilian woman stolen by humans.”

Before Pentanimir could intervene, Oxilon reared back, punching Danimore in the face. He staggered backward, crashing into the wall.

“How dare you speak to me that way, you cockhold bastard! I could have you scourged and flayed for your insolence!” Oxilon shouted, raising his fist again.

“Uncle, enough!” Pentanimir said, moving between them. “Dani meant no disrespect to you or Nazil. In his heart, he knows that the humans are beneath us. He didn’t mean to imply they were equal. The stress of this journey and lack of rest plague us both. Please, he knows better than what he speaks,” he said, glaring at Danimore. “Do I have the right of it, Brother?”

“Yes,” Danimore muttered through clenched teeth.

“Uncle, please, sit,” Pentanimir said. “We’ll be leaving for the citadel soon. Are you going to accompany us?”

“I had thoughts to do so, but I need to speak with Cha Reaglen. Tell me: where’s your slave?”

“We told you that she was ill,” Pentanimir said. “She’s abed.”

“So, you prepare your own meal with a slave serving your home?”

“No, Zeta prepared our morning meal, Uncle.”

“Well, that’s something,” Oxilon said, turning on his heels. “I need to leave, but I’ll return later to check on your little slave.”

“Gratitude, Uncle, but that isn’t necessary,” Danimore said too quickly. “We couldn’t bother you with such a task. Gali will be looking in on her for us.”

Oxilon smirked. “Very well. I’ll leave everything in your capable hands. Have a successful journey, and I’ll meet you upon your return.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” they said in tandem.

“Have you lost all wit?” Pentanimir asked when the door closed. “Why do you antagonize him so? Do you really want his wrath to fall upon us?”

“Why should we fear him? You are the one who’ll have a greater position. I won’t allow him to rule over me as if he’s Zaxson!”

“Use your mind, Dani. If not for him, I wouldn’t have this honor, and it hasn’t come to pass yet. He’s our father’s brother. His respect doesn’t need to be earned, his position within our family demands it.”

“He shows no respect for us.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Pentanimir admitted, dabbing blood from Danimore’s lip. “Even so, we’re leaving Nazil soon. Do you truly want to anger him while Zeta is unattended? Hold your tongue when speaking to Uncle. He’s not like Father, and is viler than even the Vereuxs.”

Danimore sighed. “You’re right. I’ve suffered his rebuke for far too long, and I’ve grown weary. Now, this. Never has he laid a hand on me.”

“Dani, what happened? I heard raised voices. Oh gods, your face?”

“But your face—”

“Will heal in time. You should be abed.”

“Yes, Zeta. Gali told you to rest. Sir Merrimont has agreed to have her tend you in our absence. She’ll arrive daily after evening meal. Expect her visits and say nothing about Dani or me. You can’t trust anyone in the city.”

“Good. Dani, help Zeta back to bed and I’ll fetch the barrel and supplies from the market. We must make haste and meet the others at the stables.”

Danimore lifted Zeta from the floor, carrying her down the hall.

“Pentanimir speaks true, Zeta. If anyone learns how I feel about you, we’d be in great danger.”

“How you feel about me?” she asked, as he laid her on the bed.

“Yes. We can’t—”

“You’ve never told me how you feel about me, Dani.”

“Zeta, I’m serious. You’ve suffered at the citadel, but not at my uncle’s hands. His methods of torture are what caused his rapid rise within the citadel. He alone was able to extract information from captives that Draizeyn and Naughton before him desired. We must be careful.”

“All right, Dani, I promise.” She paused, gripping his hand. “But you still haven’t told me how you feel about me.”

His face flushed, meeting her emerald eyes. “I—I love you, Zeta.”

He motioned for them to sit, pulling scrolls from the shelf. “It’s my pleasure. What you conveyed about the Animus Wood was intriguing,” he said, unrolling a scroll on the desk, and setting stones at the ends to keep it flat.

“It took some time, but with Kuhani’s assistance, I found several entries of interest.”

“Will Kuhani be joining us?” Huname asked.

“What is it, what have you found?”

“Realm of the divine,” she repeated. “Does it mention where or what this is?”

“It doesn’t give a direct location or if it’s a tangible place. It only mentions clandestine images and words that have lost meaning. There’s no indication if it’s a physical place, only that it exists. But there’s more.” Nzuri flipped his long, silvery-white hair over his shoulder, unrolling another scroll atop the first.

“This image is of great interest. Some parts of it have faded, but most is intact.” There were seven figures depicted: six encircling one that hovered above the others. All their heads were raised, with their arms extended. As they looked closer, it seemed as if the six were emitting light with a ray contacting the seventh.

“What does this mean, Nzuri?” Huname asked.

He shook his head, pointing to another place on the scroll. “The writing is unclear. There’s mention of a merging, divine light, and Guardians, but most of the text is illegible. However, there’s some indication that these beings were to walk among us. Look here,” Nzuri said. “There’s a name inscribed, but part of the scroll has been damaged. All we could clearly discern is Af and rea . I’m not certain if it speaks of the divine or mayhaps those who encircle them. What is certain is that these beings were believed to be rulers or protectors of these lands. They were once worshiped and were among the populace. Several entries pertain to the one they call a messenger. Somehow, he’d move among the people without revealing himself. He’d lead them toward their purpose or steer them from harm. There are chants and prayers written, and tales of how they lent aid and blessed those who followed them.”

“Were their names or deeds mentioned that we would recognize?” Vot asked.

“We’ve only just begun, Elder. There are many scrolls left to decipher. Much is written only in the old tongue, and my knowledge of the language isn’t as it should be. With Kuhani’s aid, I’ve been able to manage. If what we’ve found thus far bares truth, there’s much we need to do.”

“If divine beings such as this did exist, that could explain the force which was able to drive the Dessalonians to the mountains.”

“Elder Huname! You’ve brought something back to my remembrance.” Nzuri hurried to the shelf again, sorting through the scrolls. “Here,” he said, returning to the table. “When you mentioned Dessalonians, it brought this image back to my remembrance. You see these beings? Now, look here.”

Vot shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Look closer,” Nzuri said, indicating a place on the scroll. “Here again are seven beings, and the one in the center is larger than the other six. Although badly damaged, you can see this is meant to portray light or some sort of radiance. Now, further over here, beyond these trees are much larger beings with sticks, or weapons mayhaps. And right here and here, these beasts.” Nzuri’s eyes darted back and forth. “Look at the beings described as divine. Look at their stance and the way their hands have been portrayed.”

“Yes, yes, I see what you mean,” Huname said.

“The beings’ hands are extended as if they’re pushing the larger ones away,” Nzuri said. “And here, behind them, are also trees or forest. They’re standing in a clearing as they force the others away from them.”

“Aizen and Ahni spoke about a clearing,” Vot said. “They said they felt drawn to it.”

Huname nodded. “They also mentioned a great statue there as well.”

Nzuri glanced at them curiously. “Your sons saw a clearing and a statue?”

“Yes, Nzuri,” Vot said. “They said there was a path within the wood which led to it.”

“Husband, don’t forget the shadow. The shadow that remained at their lead as they traversed the path.”

“Elders, there’s more we need to do to discover the answers. Being led by a shadow...or...or a messenger.” Nzuri’s eyes widened. “If they’ve seen what’s described, mayhaps parts of this holds truth.”

“We can’t dismiss it any longer,” Vot said, turning toward his wife. “We have always considered the story of the Dessalonians a myth, but what’s pictured here could be the Dessalonians themselves being banished from the wood by the beings who dwell there.”

“Elders, let us not think too much on what we’ve seen. We believe in the One god. Can we so easily cast this aside?”

“Nzuri, this isn’t our intent,” Vot assured. “We’ve no choice but to venture into these woods. We must learn all we can, even if it’s myth and conjecture.”

“But how do we know that the one we worship and these beings aren’t one and the same?” Huname asked.

Nzuri’s brow creased. “I don’t understand, Elder. How can these beings and our god be the same?”

“Look at the drawings. Always there’s one larger or above the others. Only one. Couldn’t it be a depiction of the one we serve? Mayhaps the others are only elements of the great one.”

Nzuri nodded, scrutinizing the scroll. “Your point does hold merit. Kuhani has spoken of multiple elements of the One god in reference to the Seven. We’ll continue to search the scrolls for a better understanding.”

“Thank you, Nzuri. You and Kuhani have always been a blessing to this village.”

“It’s an honor to serve, Elders. If not for you, none of us would’ve ever experienced the peace of Bandari. It’s you who’ve blessed us.”

Huname smiled, offering him an embrace. “Your parents would be proud of you, Nzuri. Your father forewent a much different life to ensure your happiness.”

“He did, and I’m thankful. When next we travel, I’ll send a message to grandfather as well. Emet hasn’t visited Noraa in some time.”

“You’ll need to remedy that soon. Now, we’ll return home and continue our preparations. If you have any news, please send for us immediately.”

As they exited the temple, Vot draped an arm over her shoulder, looking out over the village. “Do you truly believe the tales of such beings a possibility, Huname?”

“We can’t dismiss such findings because we choose not to believe. How much has been lost due to such ignorance? If the tales are true, it’s our own inaction that has separated us from the divine. Gods seek the prayers of their children, Vot. Could it be that we’ve fallen to such a state for lack of belief and prayer?” Huname sighed. “Even in the most elaborate tales, there’s always a hint of truth. The Nohek Karab had these scrolls salvaged for a purpose. He gave his life in order for these to be saved. The information contained within must be valuable. Mayhaps he wanted us to discover the truth in our own time.”

“It’s our onus to ascertain those truths,” Vot said. “Whether it be through the scrolls or through our journey, we’ll know soon enough.”

As they continued, they noticed Hosdaq and Osmara seated near the eternal fire. She held on to his hand, leaning in to him. Hosdaq looked disheveled, continuously shaking his head. When Osmara stood to leave, Vot paused, but saw Kuhani approaching. He continued, leaving them to speak.

“Sir Neufmarche,” Kuhani said, in a deep and commanding tone. Even after more than a score of years in Faélondul, his K’ohshulian accent remained. He flipped his long braid over his shoulder, clasping his hands behind his back. “Twice you’ve missed our meeting. Are you not well?”

“I haven’t been well for some time, Drah’kuu Kuhani.”

“Indeed. Are you to join Osmara then?”

“No, she asked, but I’ve no mind for such things.”

“She desires to be there for you, Elder, as do we all. Don’t dismiss her so quickly. Osmara might possess some of what you seek,” he said, sitting beside him. “We always spar every third sun. Is there cause as to why you’ve made no move to honor our arrangement?”

“Forgive me. It wasn’t my plan to do so. Time appears to have passed too soon, and now draws at an end.”

“At an end? Explain your meaning, and mayhaps together we can find a resolution to such constraints.”

“The concerns I have couldn’t be resolved if there were many attempting the solution. My son is lost, Kuhani. He’s lost, and the fault is mine.”

“Hosdaq, don’t place blame on yourself for circumstances of which you have no control. This does nothing to alleviate the condition. It only prolongs your feeling of helplessness. You need to focus on a resolution and how to continue from this point.”

“Don’t you understand? There is no resolution. Wosen is determined to defy me, to defy us all.”

Hosdaq stood, pacing in front of him. Kuhani had never seen him this unsettled, and he was worried about his friend.

“Tell me everything that happened.”

“I had eyes yet did not see. Everyone warned me of my mistake, even you, but I wouldn’t heed their words. I allowed my pride to impede my good sense. Now, we all might have to suffer for an old man’s transgressions. Forgive me, Kuhani. For nearly twenty years, we’ve lived in peace. We cleared the land and built homes, a temple, stables, and all the things we needed to live. And we did live, Kuhani. We had a wonderful life.” Hosdaq smiled wistfully, sitting down again. “Do you recall how happy Esme was when we completed our home? She didn’t think it’d be finished before Wosen was born.”

“I do. Huname could barely keep her still during those times. Your wife loved you more than anyone in these lands, my friend.”

“I loved her, too, more than I could ever express. I still love her. How could Wosen defile her memory this way? He’s grown to hate everything human about himself. In my effort to make him proud of his Nazilian heritage, I’ve caused him to deny his humanity.”

“There’s no blame for instilling pride in who we are. Many men of Nazil have great honor, my friend. It’s the corrupt within the white city that plague these lands. I’m proud of my people, just as you are. It’s when that pride subjugates another where the difficulties begin.”

“But knowing this and knowing why we came here, how can he want to join them?”

“Wosen is young and doesn’t fully appreciate the enormity of his decision. Mayhaps his acquaintance with Pentanimir has given him a false reality. He sees all of Nazil in its First Chosen.”

“Do you think if Pentanimir spoke with him that he’d understand?” Hosdaq asked.

“Nothing is impossible, but the time for this was long ago. Not even Pentanimir may sway him now. Where’s he gone?”

“I don’t know. We had a disagreement and he left some time ago.”

Kuhani stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Come with me, Elder. Yonas will prepare some mulled wine, and we’ll speak of coming plans. This air is chill, and I fear you’ve been exposed far too long. Come.”

The two of them walked the short distance to the priest’s quarters. As the door closed, Wosen appeared from the wood. He crept forward, ensuring he wasn’t seen. His slender body slid against the side of the building, and he peered inside the small window. His father stood near the table as Yonas reached out to embrace him.

Wosen shook his head, moving toward his home. His feet dragged the ground as he kicked at small rocks along the way. When he opened the door, splashing water caught his attention. He stared at his sister, washing plates in the tub. Malkia’s long, white hair brushed the floor as she knelt elbow deep in the water. The longer Wosen stood and observed her, the angrier he became.

He crept to his father’s chamber, staring at the wooden door. His fingers traced the patterns in the wood, picturing Hosdaq being consoled by the priest. His jaw tightened then, pushing through the door.

The room was modest and well kept, with adornments on the wall from Hosdaq’s youth and Nazil, a life his son sorely desired.

Wosen’s eyes rested on a large wooden chest against the wall. He stepped forward, licking the dryness from his lips. His father had forbidden him from going into his chest, but he no longer cared. Running his fingers over the carving across the top, he lifted the light film that rested there. He blew away the rest and said, “Sir Neufmarche,” tracing the letters as he did so.

“Yes, Father, I, too, will be a Chosen of Nazil.”

He slowly opened the chest as if expecting something to leap from inside. His pale eyes widened, peering down at the exquisite items within.

“The Xtabyren,” he breathed, pulling the weapon from its sheath. “The weapon of a true warrior.”

Wosen stood, swiping and slashing with the curved sword. Before he knew it, he was charging and laughing aloud. The light glinted off the blade, and he stopped, running his fingers over the etched lettering. “Honor Above All.”

He laid the Xtabyren aside, removing the armor, belt, and cloak. “These must be cleaned and oiled. Surely, there’s a whetstone somewhere here,” he said, rummaging through the chest. When he didn’t find what he wanted, he allowed the lid to fall, and then flinched at the loud noise that followed. Grabbing up the items, he turned, only to see Malkia standing in the doorway.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Wosen. I thought Father was in here.” Her face scrunched, looking at what he carried. “Are those Father’s?”

“They’re mine,” Wosen said, pushing her aside.

“Wosen, what’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

He turned, glaring at his sister. “Don’t worry about me, Malkia. Go back to your scrubbing and leave me be.”

“But Wosen, what did—”

She cried out, falling back as the door slammed in her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she labored to her feet. Confusion and heartache consumed her young mind, not understanding her brother’s recent behavior or why he’d become so distant.

When the front door opened, her tears increased, rushing to Hosdaq and Osmara.

“Little one, oh, my Malkia, what’s wrong? Don’t cry, little one,” Hosdaq said, kneeling to hug her.

She gripped him with all her might, crying into his shoulder.

Hosdaq glanced up at Osmara, and then cupped Malkia’s face in his hands, kissing her forehead and nose. “Please, my little one. Don’t cry. Tell me what happened. I promise to make it better.”

“F—Father. Wosen, ha—hates me. I saw him in your room and—and he yelled at me and—and hit me with the door.”

“He hates me.” Her hiccupping cries grew louder as he drew her back into his chest.

Hosdaq caressed her back, kissing her again. “Don’t cry, little one. Wosen hasn’t been himself of late. He’s angry with only me, never you. You must forgive him, all right? He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.”

He stood, lifting her to his hip. “Osmara, thank you for preparing the meal, but I need to speak with Wosen. If you wish, we can sup together on the morrow. I’ll even prepare some fish,” he said, trying to mask the anger welling inside of him.

“I’d like that. If you want, I can take Malkia with me. I bet Sahma would braid her hair, and we haven’t put out any scraps for the jaenitu . I could certainly use her help. She’s the best at finding just the right spot.”