Chapter 3: The Priorities of Riv Bitter-Greens

 

The mysterious prince slept, but he was so fixated on finding “Riv” that in fevered dream he relived the moment he had first heard of the Captain of the Royal Guard of Perach.

“Bitter-greens or Malabar or something. His first name is Riv. Tall, and broad, and hair of bronze that sticks out in every direction, past his shoulders,” the traveling merchant was saying. “He keeps his face inside a mask -- they say it hides a horrible scar.”

“From fighting a dragon? Didn’t I hear something about a dragon?” asked my older brother, the Crown Prince. He seemed glad that they’d stopped talking about the cancellation of his arranged marriage. He hadn’t been in love with her, but it embarrassed him to hear so many graphic details of his former future father-in-law’s exposure in the brothel. My father already disapproved of whores, and it would have been unacceptable for the city’s future queen to have a father who visited them so voraciously.

“No, the dragon...” Here, the merchant snickered lewdly. “The dragon is his lover.”

“I’ve heard that too,” said my father, the King. “Some wizard or sorcerer or what have you. I think it’s nonsense. Everything I’ve heard about this Riv person has been one triumph after another -- he caught the ring of blackmailers, he rescued a temple full of celibates, he wins competitions. Men who see each other as lovers aren’t capable of that. It’s a sign of weakness and lack of focus. Lack of priorities.”

My heart sank. The lamb on my fork became dry and unchewable; the rest remained on my plate untouched for the rest of the meal. It had been delicious.

“Maybe in this kingdom,” remarked the merchant, “but over there I tell you that’s the way it is. No question. They don’t even make much of a secret of it.”

“He disgraces his queen, then,” was my father’s response. “Has he no respect for her reputation?”

“He’s probably more concerned with protecting her life and her people,” pointed out my fiancée, Azar. “If I were queen, I wouldn’t care if my bodyguards were sleeping with sheep. What matters is how good he is with a sword, and how loyal he is. That’s what I have to say about priorities.” Her dark eyes flashed as she dared to defy the king, even though her tone was demure and quiet. She grew more beautiful to me in this moment, as she defended Riv -- and as she defended me too, without realizing it.

“I wouldn’t have Riv as my captain, at any rate,” said my father. “And you, Azar, are not going to be queen anyway, only wife to my youngest. So maybe you’d better keep your mouth shut.”

She said nothing more, but gave him a look full of defiance.

Later, in the moonlight on the balcony, I thanked her. I took her by the hand and gazed into those big glistening eyes of hers and told her how much I loved her, and how brave she was to challenge my father, and she told me that she was glad she was marrying me and that she liked me best of the three princes, even if it meant she wouldn’t be queen.

And then I was foolish enough to be honest.

“I loved you even more in that moment,” I said. “I despaired when he said that men who looked at other men that way were weak. I know that I’m not weak, and I--” Azar’s face alarmed me, and I stopped talking. “What?”

“Why do you speak of yourself that way?” She drew back slightly.

I kept holding her hand. “I’ve looked upon both men and women with love. But you’re the queen of my heart, and I hope that you’ll be the only--”

“What?” She pulled away entirely now, and looked at me as if my face had sprouted pustules. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

“You can’t be serious. I love you!”

“And I love you too,” I protested. “I don’t understand -- you said--”

There was more, but “You’re broken,” were the last words I heard from her before she ran from the balcony, back into the palace.

Into my brother’s arms, apparently. Now, she will be queen, someday, after all. And she won’t have to marry a man she thinks is broken.

But I knew I couldn’t be broken, because Riv -- Captain Riv -- wasn’t broken.

Somehow, the prince could tell that Riv was sitting at his bedside before he opened his eyes.

 

***

 

For several silent moments, they beheld each other, Rivka’s gray-blue eyes tenderly gazing down on his dark ones.

“I’m here,” the captain said at last, and took his hands in hers.

“Captain Riv,” said the prince, with great effort. “Please... please help us.”

“I hope I can,” said Rivka.

“I love him.”

“All right,” said Rivka, nodding. Someone handed her a fresh wet cloth, and she replaced the one on his forehead with this newer, cooler one.

“My father... the prison... he’s... he wants to kill...” The prince disappeared into himself a little bit.

“Who does he want to kill?” Rivka prompted him.

“We’re like you,” said the prince slowly and deliberately. “Like you. You’re our only chance.”

“Like me,” Rivka repeated, and then the light turned on. “Like us. Like Isaac and me.”

“Isaac...?”

Rivka cocked her head backward slightly, and from the other side of the room the wizard approached. “This one. The one who puts up with me.”

The prince smiled slightly. “Save him...” Then he started to faint again.

Rivka grabbed him by both shoulders. “Wake up,” she demanded. His eyes rolled open, but she wasn’t sure if he was there. “Do you love him?”

“Yes. More... more than life.”

Rivka tightened her grip on him and stared into his eyes. “You have to love life as much as you love him, do you hear me? Because if you don’t live to tell me where he is, or how I can rescue him, he’ll die. So try harder.”

Slowly, the prince nodded.

 

***

 

Shulamit was in her library reading correspondence when she heard Rivka come in. “Did he tell you anything?”

Rivka nodded. “His name is Prince Kaveh.”

“Oh! That’s the youngest son of Jahandar from the City of the Red Clay.”

“So he tells me. He also said he’s in love with another man--”

“He’s like me!” Shulamit’s eyes widened.

“--and his father, he just threw his lover in prison. He’s supposed to be killed at the end of some sacred month they celebrate where they can’t execute prisoners. Kaveh rode all the way here, and why? To beg help from me, of all people.”

“Why you? Oh my God, those poor men,” she added at half-volume.

“Think about the way everyone else sees Captain Riv and Isaac,” Rivka pointed out.

Shulamit smirked and nodded. “Two big, strong, heroic men who love each other.” As a genuine lover of her own sex, but one who often felt frail and vulnerable thanks to her small stature and overactive mind, it comforted her to think of the image of strength they projected to those from whom she wanted respect. “Why was he falling apart when he showed up -- bleeding and barely alive?”

“I’m getting there. King Jahandar hired an engineer named Farzin to design a series of public works projects for the city: a new bridge, repairs to the roads, fershtay? During the project, Farzin and this Kaveh got pretty close -- they’d been friends since boyhood. Then at the end of the whole thing, the king decides he’s only going to pay everyone half wages. In his mind, that should be enough -- everyone should work to improve the city ‘out of patriotism’ or else they aren’t true Citizens of the Red Clay.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’d never do that.”

“We know. Anyway, between Farzin -- and Kaveh -- working hard to oppose him and support the people, and him finding out that Farzin had, uh, debauched his son... I’m sorry... Please don’t make that face... Oh, Shula.”

Rivka had to tell the rest of the story from one side of a tight hug, for the young queen took all such insults to heart very deeply. “Farzin’s in prison, and Jahandar wants him dead. Kaveh, he went to the prison to tell him he would ask me for help, but some of the guards didn’t recognize him and on the way out -- zoom! With the arrows. He didn’t want to stop to get treatment because he knew he had to get to me and convince me in time. He figured it was more important just to ride all the way here. Only, now he might not live. Isaac said he’s full of infection. He might have to use magic to cure him. He says he’ll try his best, but...”

“Poor man,” said Shulamit, hugging the stuffing out of Rivka. Her late father hadn’t been a big fan of the direction of her attentions, but the idea of anyone trying to have Aviva killed... Things like this made her glad she had a sword-slinging loudmouth and a dragon-man on her side.

Whereas it sounded like Kaveh had only the persistence of his own determination.

Well, maybe now he had Rivka. And Isaac. And herself.

“So Isaac is going to work on him now?”

“No, he has to wait for some of the prince’s strength to come back. He hasn’t had enough fluids or eaten enough yet. But he will -- tonight.”

Shulamit nodded. “Keep me posted. Sorry about your day off.”

“My what?” Rivka quipped wryly.

 

***

 

On her way out into the central courtyard, Rivka crossed paths with her mother, who was exploring the cultivated flowers. “Oh, hi, Mammeh.” It was novel to be speaking her own language within Shulamit’s walls with someone other than her husband after three years. Her Perachi was fluent but heavily accented, as was Isaac’s.

“Nice of you to notice me,” said Mitzi crossly. “Why did you invite me all the way here if you didn’t even have time to get me settled in and show me around?”

“I--” Rivka was caught sideways. “Now that I’ve got a job, I wanted to give you a place to live where you’d be treated with respect.” Because nobody here knows that you got knocked up by a vegetable gardener when you were a teenager, she added silently. Except the queen, and she doesn’t care about things like that.

“I didn’t mind,” said Mitzi. “I had learned to live with it. It was no more than I deserved. I was happy up there!”

“Then why did you come? You didn’t have to.” But by looking at her face, Rivka knew she’d made a mistake.

“Yes, I did.” Mitzi looked away. “Your uncle got ahold of the letter and decided it was a good idea for me to come down and live with you. And now he doesn’t have to be responsible for me anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I--”

Then both women looked over sharply, because they realized they weren’t alone anymore. A gentle-faced woman about Mitzi’s age, with long hair held back with a scarf that had been folded into a headband, had limped over to them with a pretty little cane. “Are you Riv’s mother? So nice to meet you, finally. I’m Leah -- Aviva’s mother. You must be so proud of Riv. And you have such beautiful hair! I’ve never seen a woman with golden hair before.”

Mitzi blinked a few times. Rivka knew her mother wasn’t used to random castle-inhabitants treating her so kindly. “Please call me Mitzi.”

“May I show you around the palace? I only just moved in a few years ago, just after Riv came.”

“I’d like that.”

“We love Riv here,” said Leah. “You really did raise him right.”

As far as Rivka knew, it was the first time Mitzi had heard anything like that in her entire life. Her mother’s face made it clear she was soaking it up like dry soil in a rainstorm. “See you at dinner, Mammeh,” Rivka called out to them as they walked away.

Isaac was at her side. “Leah to the rescue?”

“She could charm the stone out of a peach,” said Rivka.

“Now you sound like Aviva.”

“’Vivaleh would have said something even weirder. Something about peaches with wings, and a flute in there someplace. Or maybe snails.”

“Come on, Captain. We still have a few minutes of ‘day off’ before sundown.” He could say so much with just his eyes, and with that subtly smirking mouth.

Rivka followed him inside their room, their little ‘dragon cave.’

The door panel was barely shut before his powerful arms snaked around her, pulling her into the cushion of his belly. She caramelized into his heat like a ripe plantain, sizzling at the feeling of his hungry lips all over her face and neck as he pushed her down onto their bed. “I wanted you so badly out there in the brush when we were sparring,” she told him huskily, “and then when Hersch and what’s-his-name showed up swinging swords I just couldn’t believe...” She began to remove the leather armor that both protected her and kept her breasts -- and therefore her womanhood -- secret. “Need to feel your skin on mine.”

He seized her wrist. “Not in the palace. Put it back.”

“Don’t wanna! Your tongue... everywhere...”

“Not here. Someone might see. And you know I can’t do that here, either.”

Her growl sounded like a charging bear.

Propping himself up on his right elbow, he untied the laces between her legs with well-practiced fingers and purred into her ear. “I promise, Mighty One, I promise I’ll make it so good you won’t mind so much.”

“Aaaahh,” Rivka moaned.

“And then, on another day off, I’ll take you back into the woods and you can have as much dragon’s tongue as you want.”

Her legs were wrapped around him now as she rubbed herself eagerly against his bulging trousers, trapping his left hand between them. “Waited... all... day...”

“For this?”

Rivka threw her head back and let out a deep groan of abandon as she was filled. He began to thrust, and she overflowed with pleasure at the feeling of his bulky torso bearing down on her, his fingers working at her, himself inside of her stretching her and colliding with the parts of herself she couldn’t see that buzzed and shuddered. True, they were separated by layers of heavy clothing that preserved her status and reputation and sometimes her ribs ached, but it was still so very good.

She seized up and came, her fingers grabbing his back hard enough to leave marks.

“Would it be so terrible if they found out? If the world finally learned to cheer a lady warrior?” Isaac’s head rested on her shoulder as he idly stroked her thighs.

“If they don’t learn, I’ll lose everything.” Rivka feared practically nothing; for years she had gone into battle with a strong heart and a ready temperament. But a childhood near her bullying, misogynist uncle had given her one thing of which to be scared: that even after they’d seen her succeed, if the rest of the world found out she was female, her great reputation would shatter into unbelievable lies, and she’d have to start anew.

“You wouldn’t lose me,” Isaac reminded her. “But I’ll help you protect your secret.”

“I know you will. Keeping secrets is kind of your specialty.”

He grinned. “Not from you, Mighty One. Never again from you.”

And she knew he meant it.