Lady of the Star Wind (30 page)

“There
is
no rightful king, as you put it, left.” Rothan sounded as if he were explaining something to a small child. He reached in front of Tia to snag a tidbit of cheese. “Hutenen was the last of his line. There’s no other.”

Mark sighed. The answer was obvious to him. “There’s you.”
 

The Nakhtiaar in the hut were silent. He got the impression his proposal stunned the audience, except for Sallea, who nodded as if the idea made sense to her.

Sandy also agreed with Mark’s point, turning in her seat to stare at Rothan. “You told us your mother was in the direct line, a sister of the last true king.”

“And besides those facts,” Mark continued with what he felt to be irrefutable logic, “your wife is Hutenen’s only sibling, right?”

“Yes,” said Rothan and Tia in unison.

“So who better to sit the throne than the two of you?” Mark challenged them.

“My father wasn’t of the royal blood,” Rothan said in protest. “I’m only half royal, and inheritance of the throne doesn’t pass through the female line.”

“Time to change a few rules.” Sandy dipped the crust of her bread into the broth on her plate.
 

“Alter the rules, restart the game.” Mark sat on the edge of his chair, pointing a finger at Sallea. “Your father swore allegiance to Rothan, right? Not Hutenen.”

Finishing her wine, the Mikkonite nodded. “By ancient treaty we owe loyalty to whoever rightfully holds the crown. The unseen forces guarding the lost city allowed Rothan to take the crown. Therefore, my father judged him to be king.” She grinned. “Of course, he has to seize his kingdom.”
 

Mark smiled at her excellent point. “I’m getting to that. Nakhtiaar has good allies in the Empty Lands.” He stabbed his spoon in the air, aimed at Rothan. “You and Hutenen had the same upbringing, you told me, the same training in warfare and statecraft, the same experiences on your two-year expedition. Who pursued the Crown of Khunarum? And who found it, against all odds? Hutenen may have been a great person, but he didn’t think on the grand scale of what would be best for the country. You did. If he was alive, I wouldn’t argue against your sworn allegiance to the man. But he’s dead. And we’re still here, left to deal with the realities of the situation. Who has more right to sit on the throne, to rule? You or Farahna? Who has the best interests of these people at heart? You? Or that murderous bitch who can’t wait to hand the country over to her Maiskhan allies?”

“The Warrior of the Star Wind speaks truth,” Djed agreed vehemently. “You must listen to him, sir.”

“Indeed,” Lieutenant Khefer chimed in. “These are words of deep wisdom. It shouldn’t require outsiders to make us see the situation so clearly.”

Sandy spoke again. “The responsibility for an entire nation can be a crushing burden. But I think Mark’s point is valid. Who else can be king? If you can name one other legitimate candidate, then we’ll take the Crown of Khunarum to him or her, and leave you to find what peace you can achieve in exile with Tia.”

Rothan stared from one to the next, the comments coming too thick and fast for him to get a word in edgewise until Sandy stopped speaking. He slammed his fist on the table. “Never did I seek to gain the throne. I swear to you, my loyalty, my concern was all for Hutenen.”

“We know the truth well, my lord,” Djed said. “But the situation is altered.”

“Is there anyone else to lead the fight against Farahna? Any other potential leader of a rebellion?” Mark asked the company at large. “Anywhere in Nakhtiaar?”

There was silence. Khefer and Djed shook their heads. The cousin and his chief wife stayed quiet. Mark gazed at Rothan. “There you have it. Either you step up to the challenge, or your country falls into the hands of Farahna’s Maiskhan allies while you learn to ride horses in the Empty Lands and your child is born in permanent exile. What’s it to be?”

“The crown itself will tell us.” Tia, usually so quiet, surprised them all with her fervent declaration. “Give me the case, if you please.”

Mark, who’d kept the box close-by during their escape from the valley, placed it into her outstretched hands.
 

Sandy moved aside the plates and serving dishes on the rough table where their dinner had been set. Tia put the chest down. Taking a deep breath, she slid the hawk-shaped catch open, raising the lid, wincing at the creak of protest from the ancient hinges.

The golden crown was lustrous, whole and restored to its former glory, its large gemstones blinking in the light from the oil lamps.
 

Somehow, Mark didn’t feel any surprise. Not much was going to amaze him after his encounter with Hutenen’s ghost and the otherworldly beings in the tomb. Lajollae had sent Sandy and him to a world where strange powers held sway and unimaginable things were possible. He could go with the program.

Tia fell back a step. Even though unboxing the crown had been her idea, she appeared frightened to find the diadem intact. Sandy had no hesitation. She took the Crown of Khunarum from the box. Balancing it on her palms, she pivoted to face Rothan. “Do you take this crown and all the responsibilities it brings? Will you swear to protect and defend the people of this land?”

Rothan’s face was set and grim, lines of strain around his eyes. He swallowed. “I will.” He moved a step toward her, took the crown in both hands, and placed it on his own head, where the diadem sat as if made for him alone.

“Honor to the king!” Djed went to his knees on the dirt floor of the hut. “Long life and blessings to the new king.”

All the Nakhtiaar in the room except Tia knelt and echoed the archer’s salutations. Sallea saluted, fist over her heart. “Well done,” she said. “This is the time to abandon old traditions of succession and pursue the better alternative.”

Rothan laughed, breaking the tension. “Has any king ever had such an odd coronation?” His expression softened. “But with such good and loyal courtiers?” He took off the crown. “Rise, my friends. You do me honor, but it’s early days yet for courtly ceremony. We have to get away from here, or else the reign of Rothan the First will be short and inglorious.”

“How long to get to your grandfather’s holdings?” Mark asked again.

“Two to three weeks’ march on foot, as we are.” Rothan glanced at Tia. “You shouldn’t walk so far in your condition.”

“If Your Majesty permits,” said Lieutenant Khefer. “I took the liberty of stealing a team of four oxen and a cart. The conveyance and team are out in the stable. I wished for a chariot, of course—”

“Of course.” The exchange sounded like an old joke between the two men.

“But I couldn’t attract too much attention.” Khefer’s brown eyes gleamed with amusement, and the dimples in his cheeks deepened. “So oxen it was. At least Lady Tia won’t have to walk.”

“Excellent. We can take on the guise of spice merchants going to the mountain lands to trade.” Rothan rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“It’s the time of year for merchants to travel, peddling their wares,” Djed agreed. “No one will suspect, although we’re a large group for traders.”

“What about the three archers hiding on the
Lady Dawn
?” Leaving anyone behind went against Mark’s code as a soldier.

“Demari planned to let them go in a hidden harbor he knows on the coast, since he didn’t betray them to the Maiskhan the other night,” Sallea said. “I would have taken them with me, but we feared I’d draw too much attention. One nomad warrior traveling alone isn’t unknown, Demari told me when I’d argued him to a standstill, especially garbed in concealing robes as I was. Escorted by Nakhtiaar archers? Unwise. Better for us all to go separately.”

 
Rothan said, “Our men will make for the sanctuary of my grandfather’s lands. What of the soldiers who followed us from home originally? Hutenen’s personal guard?”

Khefer laughed, a bitter edge to his mirth. “Chaos reigned in the palace on the day the concubine came screaming into the throne room. She was hysterical. We all ran to Hutenen’s rooms to find him frothing at the mouth, in convulsions on the floor. Farahna and Gaddaf, the Maiskhan commander, were exchanging satisfied—no, gleeful—glances and whispers as the physicians strove in vain to save him. I didn’t need to be tapped on the shoulder by the gods to see which way the winds blew. I called our men together in the barracks and spent an hour writing them official leave papers. I sent them off in ones and twos. By now they’ll be home. I believed your grandfather could use any and all reinforcements, and our prince had no further need for loyal guards. We’d not been allowed near him for weeks.”

Rothan said, “True, which was one reason Tia and I decided we had to go search for the crown. There was nothing else to be done.”

“The prince died two days after you left.” Lieutenant Khefer’s face, usually so cheerful, reflected his grief. “He’d been so ill—”

“But you, what did you do?” Tia asked Khefer. “After you sent our soldiers on their way?”
 

“There’s honor and brotherhood remaining in the Nakhtiaar army, my lady. There were those officers willing to help me, one in particular who took great risk—” Khefer broke off in midsentence. “We can speak of those events later. Tonight isn’t for the naming of names. I hid in the ranks, one anonymous soldier among the many, watching for your return. I hoped I could get to you, Captain—I mean, Your Majesty.”

Rothan waved off concerns over his proper title. “Captain will do for now.”
 

“I hoped I could somehow warn you before you confronted Farahna. I’ve those in the city who were my eyes and ears, who were to let me know if you were sighted.”

“Spies? You have a network of spies?” The possibilities immediately appealed to Mark. He appreciated the way this warrior strategized.

“Yes.” Khefer stood straighter, chest out with pride. “Never did it occur to me to watch for you by sea. I hadn’t anticipated such an eventuality, my lord. I planned to wait till the festival began, for if you’d not come by then, I knew you wouldn’t be returning. The gods would have denied your quest. Then I too was going home.”

“A good plan and one which we’ll carry out, beginning before first light today,” Rothan said. “You’ve done well, Captain Khefer.” He laid extra stress on the elevated rank. “There’ll be recognition, medals for your service at my earliest opportunity.”

“It was my honor, Your Majesty. And I’m grateful for the favor you show this night, promoting this unworthy one to captain.” Khefer bowed low before continuing his story. “When I ran into Djed, met Sallea, in the crowd at the palace this morning, I realized things had gone awry.”

“So the three of us left the city and came here in search of my cousin,” the archer finished. “And you know the rest, my lord.”

“We’ll need disguises for the trip south,” Mark said. “Sandy and I are too noticeable, being so fair-skinned. Everyone outside this room believes we’re dead and buried in that tomb. And Sallea with her blue hair stands out as well. The mistaken belief about our deaths is our biggest advantage.”

“If not for you, old friend, we’d be dead by now,” Rothan said, clapping Djed on the shoulder.

“And the help of my cousin.” The archer refused to take all the credit. “And Sallea and Lieutenant—I mean, Captain Khefer.”

Rothan spoke to the cousin with gratitude. “I can’t reward you adequately now, but I give you my word, you’ll be generously rewarded for your assistance at my earliest opportunity in the future.”

“To have the king in one’s debt is unheard of for a man like me, and beyond price. My honor to be of service.” The older man bowed as his wives curtsied. “But you must be well away from here as soon as possible, if I’m to survive and collect my debts.”

“My cousin speaks the truth. If we’re to be traders, we can’t be seen leaving this village, for no trader would ever deign to set foot here,” Djed said.
 

Now that the plan was established, everyone set to work. The grave robber’s chief wife brought out a quantity of clothing for them to select from, telling Tia the entire village had donated their wardrobes to outfit the fugitives if necessary. The party wrapped themselves in robes and hooded cloaks, and Sandy took a veil to shield her pale face from close scrutiny if the need arose. Khefer and Djed went to the stable to yoke the quartet of oxen. After some spirited discussion, Sallea accompanied them, pointing out her expertise with animals of all species. The trio brought the cart to the hut’s entry.

Rothan guffawed as he caught site of the top-heavy vehicle laden with sacks and jars. “Khefer, my faithful one, you’ve also stolen a spice merchant’s entire inventory for us. Our disguise will be complete. We may even make a profit.”

“Yeah, but is someone going to miss all this?” Mark wasn’t as happy about the quantity of cargo as he circled the wooden conveyance, staying well out of range of the oxen’s horns and hooves. The animals seemed placid enough, but he wasn’t familiar with their habits. “Report it stolen? We don’t need the authorities searching for a trader’s cart and some overattentive guard observing us on the road. There might be awkward questions.”

Khefer was all innocence. Showing a guileless face appeared to be a particular talent of the young officer’s. “It seems, my lords and ladies, a grievous fire broke out in the trade warehouses by the harbor today. Much was lost in the way of trade goods, and the terrified horses and oxen scattered to the four winds as the stables burned.”