The Belromanticum

Chapter 48

A wedding is a joyous occasion, but it usually does not mark a great victory. Yet Kharsoom so often bucked convention. It was, for all its manifold faults, a stark land of heroes, and a wedding in the Red Wastes must therefore require a heroic invocation of will..

The scroll arrived at Azureview one peaceful morning while my household breakfasted upon the balcony. Makgrumman had prepared the meal, altering each of our portions to taste. While in most cases this was minor, making Tanyth and Sarakiel's spicier, Lysethe and the kids' blander, Maireili's dietary needs required special effort. As Mairelli needed rotten meat, Makgrumman had a seasoning box in the pantry where he could store cuts until they spoiled enough for my ghoul bride to enjoy them. Such things needed minor enchantments to keep from spoiling the rest of our stores.

Makgrumman handed Tanyth the scrollcase with a simple bow. "Delivery, madam."

Tanyth turned it over in her crimson hands. The case was fashioned in iron and onyx, and the seal was a scorpion pressed into purple wax. Tanyth's belly was great with the life inside her, and I couldn't imagine she could get much bigger. She had swelled so much she had even removed the jeweled scorpion she wore in her navel. Her eyes widened as she recognized the scorpion sigil in the wax, a twin of that keepsake, the sigil of Clan Abibaal. She opened the case and unfurled the scroll, her eyes widening as she read the Kharish words. We fell silent as she read, desperately curious.

"Mama?" asked Malycent. "What's on the paper?"

Tanyth looked at the little girl in surprise, then at the rest of us, realizing we were all staring.

"A letter from my father," she said, wonder in her violet eyes. "He is getting married."

"Married? I thought that he would never do that," I said. In fact, her father was unusual for a Kharsoomian. Not only had he never remarried after Tanyth's mother died, but he had no concubines and only a single bedslave he never lay with.

Tanyth shook her head in amazement. "I believed so too. There is not much here. Her name is Rubati of Clan Adonyah."

"Is Clan Adonyah allied with Clan Abibaal?" asked Zhahllaia.

"No," Tanyth said. "They are not enemies either. Their lands are not especially close."

"Then this Rubati is an odd choice." I knew the expression on the djinn's lovely face. She had sniffed out intrigue, something she knew well from her time as an advisor in the Qammuzi court.

"You're suspicious," Tanyth said.

Zhallaia's reply came slowly as she mulled over the implications of the letter. "I amconcerned. We will see if I have cause for suspicion."

We made arrangements to be away, leaving Azureview in the care of Makgrumman. Of the family, only Belazei chose to stay behind, having no wish to return to the arid wasteland of Kharsoom. We gathered up the rest of us, hitched the wagon to the team of qobads and set out from Castellandria one bright morning.

Shaluvia, Ujaala, and Tanyth's handmaids were most excited about the prospect of returning to Kharsoom. To them, even the two who weren't Kharsoomian by birth, the Red Wastes were home. Castellandria might be more pleasant, but it lacked the stark beauty of the decadent wasteland.

We took the same pathway we had used on the way home. We traveled by way of standing stones to Sacasia, where we found a ship willing to bear us hence to Kharsoom. Travel was relatively swift with the winds in our favor and before long we were riding into Clan Abibaal's seat of Eirashtar, the ruined city that gave me my title.

Eirashtar squatted on the edge of a dry lakebed, and despite its former glory had only a few trickling streams to provide barely enough water to the diminished residents. Even for a Kharsoomian city, Eirashtar was depopulated. Its peasants had departed as Clan Abibaal's fortunes declined. We approached along the edge of the famed Forest Issatesh, a land where the death of the gods had turned the trees to black stone. It was in many ways the perfect symbol of the wastes, a pantomime of life transformed into a sigil of death itself.

Our approaching party flew two banners. The first was the scorpion on purple of Clan Abibaal, and the second was my own banner, the feathered serpent on a field of blue. Tanyth had commissioned a finer one, refining the design that had flown over our wedding and this now flapped overhead. The original now hung upon the wall of Azureview, a treasured memento. The guards saw the scorpion and saluted us. Cheers followed as they recognized their beloved princess Tanyth, and as we traveled through the city our caravan acquired an impromptu escort of unofficial honor guards.

We followed the main street that led to the bluff where Abibaal's ancestral castle waited. After so long living in the incomparably vibrant metropolis of Castellandra, Kharsoom appeared hopelessly corrupt and provincial. Her people existed in ruins well over a thousand years old, clinging to a grandeur that wasn't even a memory. Streets in Castellandria teemed with life. Eirashtar was populated mostly by ghosts.

"You lived here?" Sarakiel asked.

"For a time, I lived there," I said, gesturing to the castle.

"This is Eirashtar," Lysethe said.

"You are Lord of Eirashtar," Maireili said. She crouched behind Sarakiel in the wagon, the hood of her Widow's Cloak over her head.

"I am indeed."

"It was the title my clan had to give," Tanyth said, awkwardly sitting in the wagon. Her belly was unwieldy before we left, and it had only grown during our travels. "He needed an appropriate title if he was to wed a princess."

We made our way up the bluff, followed by a populace rejoicing over Tanyth's return. The gateway to the castle was closed. "Who goes?" shouted a guard standing on the ramparts.

"Your princess!" Tanyth called back.

The guard peered over the walls, first at Tanyth, then at the scorpion banner, then again at Tanyth. "Your Highness?" he exclaimed, a smile exploding over his face. "Open the gates! Princess Tanyth is returned to us!"

The gates opened and guards filled the courtyard, disbelieving smiles stretching over their faces. I was accustomed to her charisma. I had watched her win the favor of her adopted city in a dark time. Yet this display still humbled me. These men, every one of them, loved her. They loved her as mother, sister, wife, and daughter. Any one of them would have happily died to earn her favor.

"Forgive me for not rising," she called to them. "My lord has seen fit to plant his seed, and it's growing rather greater than I expected." We did not yet know that she was carrying twins, though we had begun to suspect.

"An heir! Clan Abibaal has an heir!" the guards exulted.

Prince Hadirseen, Tanyth's father, came out to meet us. He was nearly a decade older than we had last seen him. The ensuing years had cost him more hair, and what was left was now entirely gray. His limbs were skinny as ever, and his belly had gained more roundness. His skin was as crimson as his daughter's, and in the custom of the land he wore only a leather harness with two blades hanging at his narrow hips. He wore the scorpion crown of Clan Abibaal, the twin to the one on my wife's brow.

"Light of my soul!" he said, a smile of pure joy on his face.

"Father!" she exclaimed. She struggled to get up. I dismounted my qobad to assist her, but Lysethe and Maireili took pity on her and helped her first rise and then get off the wagon. She waddled to him and they embraced.

"Look at you! Great with child! You will bear this little one soon."

"In Kharsoom," she said.

"As it should be. Oh, I look forward to meeting them. I will summon the midwife from Eirashtar. She will stay with us until you give birth." He turned to me. "Belromanazar, my son!"

"Your Highness," I said, offering a short bow.

"Father," he corrected, embracing me. "It is good to see you. Neither you nor she have aged a day."

"It's a kind of magic."

"Your serpent has grown," he said, eyeing Quiyahui warily as she slithered through the air. I had not noticed, as I saw her every day, but of course he was right. The coatl continued to grow, and she would grow a great deal larger. "Please, introduce me to your household."

"This is Zhahllaia, Sarakiel, Lysethe, and Maireili, Belromanazar's concubines," Tanyth said.

The prince greeted each in turn, surprised when he couldn't touch Zhahllaia. His gaze lingered on Lysethe. "Every one of you is exquisite," he said. The others understood his words, as Tanyth insisted they all learn Kharish.

"And these are the children. Arkohnus, Faustan, Malycent, and that is little Sabrael." Sabrael, my daughter with Sarakiel, had been born a few months earlier. A fat healthy little thing, she peacefully slept in her mother's arms.

Hadirseen knelt and addressed Arkohnus. "You are the eldest, are you not?"

"Yes," Arkohnus said, then turned. "Mama Tanyth? What is the title?"

"Your Highness, dear."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"You are a fine lad, I can tell. You will watch over your brothers and sisters, and convey to them any messages from me," Hadirseen said in the tone of a man used to authority. The prince rose. "Where is his blade?"

"Father, he only recently turned seven years old."

"Precisely. He should have a blade by now."

"Madam Shaluvia is teaching me fencing," Arkohnus said gravely.

"As she should. We will find a proper blade for you, young man."

"Father," sighed Tanyth. "He is not a Kharsoomian."

"He is in Kharsoom, and he is an honored member of a princess's household."

"My son should not have a blade," hissed Sarakiel.

"Don't worry," Tanyth murmured. "My father will be too distracted to see it done."

"Zidon," the prince addressed his majordomo, standing nearby. "Please show this party to their quarters."

"Right away, Your Highness." He came to Tanyth and bowed low. "It is good to have you home, Your Highness."

"I've missed you, Zidon," Tanyth said.

"Refresh yourselves," said Hadirseen. "Tonight, we will feast and you can meet my intended."

"Where is she? Did she not want to greet us?"

"She is nervous about meeting you, I think," Hadirseen said quietly. "She knows you are beloved and wants to make a good impression."

Tanyth chuckled. "I will be kind."

"Thank you, my daughter. Now go with Zidon."

We were given Tanyth's old chambers, spreading beyond her rooms to provide space for Ujaala and the children. Myself, my wives, and our children gathered into Tanyth's old room before supper. Had I loved them less, the environs would be cramped. Instead I considered them cozy.

We rested and prepared ourselves for dinner. I removed my robes and donned my loincloth and boots, the same that I had worn in my travels through the Red Wastes. Tanyth shocked all when she emerged wearing nothing but her old harness, her jewelry and crown, and a half-skirt that billowed out behind her. It drew all eyes to her gravid belly, so gloriously round and full.

"Is nudity required?" Sarakiel asked.

"No," I said. "We are known to be barbarians. We are not expected to adhere fully to their customs."

"You should allow your beauty to be seen, Sarakiel," Tanyth said.

"I will abide by local customs," Lysethe said, stripping out of her clothing without hesitation.

"Lysethe?" Sarakiel asked.

"It is not that much less than I wore as a witchthrall of the Heacharid Empire." She stood before us wearing nothing more than her slave collar, a golden feathered serpent with its tail in its jaws. Her skymander perched on her shoulder. We were all momentarily stunned, as she was socially the most timid. It was easy to forget that she was a blooded warrior, and nudity was no fear of hers.

"You look lovely," I said.

More debate followed and eventually Sarakiel assented to a small loincloth and a cover for her breasts, while Maireili remained in her tight costume and cloak. I was surprised at her modesty, as her people have a culturally lax attitude toward nudity. She explained later that she didn't mind when she was with those she trusted, but she was not yet comfortable around Prince Hadirseen's court. Over time, she would wear less as the realities of the Kharsoomian climate became plain.

We joined Prince Hadirseen at his feasting table where I saw his intended for the first time. She looked perhaps a year or two older than Tanyth, which thanks to the age-arresting powers of my love meant she was several years younger. Such a vast difference in age between bride and groom did not surprise me coming from an arranged marriage between nobles. I could only assume that Clan Abibaal's position had grown more tenuous and he had been forced to accept a mate.

Yet that was not what I saw in the way they looked at one another. Stolen glances, fleeting touches. All perfectly chaste, as befit a relationship that had not yet been sanctified. I saw in their eyes what I saw in Tanyth's when she looked at me, and what I felt in my heart when I looked at her. This was not arranged. This was a love match.

Rubati was lovely. Kharsoomian women, I have said many times, were the most beautiful on Thür. Her skin was a bright scarlet and her eyes were a deep azure. She was tall and slender, with a youthful roundness to her features. Her hair was long and black, and her adornment modest.

"Welcome to my table," said Hadirseen. "Tonight I have the honor of presenting my intended, Lady Rubati of Clan Adonyah."

"Princess Tanyth," said Lady Rubati, her smile turning nervous. "I am honored to meet you. And this must be your lord husband, the famous boldisar."

"The honor is mine," Tanyth said, flashing her teeth. She introduced all of us, and I watched Rubati's lips move with each name as she memorized them. I had some sympathy for her with the sheer number of us.

"Tell me," Tanyth said, partway into our meal, "how did the two of you meet? Clan Adonyah's lands are far away."

Rubati smiled shyly. "I am from a minor line in my clan. My family was not overly concerned with my match, so I was free to travel without a need to wed quickly. I wanted to see the Forest Issatesh, so I came hither, and I met your father."

Hadirseen chuckled. "She thought I was a doddering old man."

"I did not!" protested Rubati. Then she shrugged. "I thought you were old. Never doddering."

"She came to me as a noble, and asked for hospitality. Honor demanded I grant her what she asked, though I would have been her faithful servant had she been a slave."

"I found that I enjoyed speaking with Hadirseen. He was comfortable and warm to me. I felt safe in this place, more at home than anywhere I had been in my travels."

"I felt myself falling in love. I could not deny it, no matter how much I wanted to. I knew she would leave me soon, for I am old and she is still in the bloom of youth. When she did it would hurt, but I no longer would be faced with this temptation to wed."

"When it came time to depart, I found that I couldn't. I went to him and I asked for his hand. Impertinent, I know, but I am adventurous."

"She asked and I could only say yes." Hadirseen looked to her, a softness coming into his eyes. "I still cannot believe it."

"Your happiness fills my heart," Tanyth said. "You will need a proper wedding, of course. Clan Abibaal still has its honored bloodline, and we will need to call upon our allies to bear witness."

"Yes, light of my soul," Hadirseen said, gazing at Rubati with love-addled eyes.

Later, as my wives and I were in our room and preparing for bed, Tanyth's expression was troubled.

"You are concerned now," Zhahllaia said.

"I am. Rubati is too young."

"And her arrival here too serendipitous," said the djinn.

I sighed, lying back in bed. "I suppose I was a fool to think we could be off our guard for the span of a single wedding."

"A wedding in Kharsoom," Tanyth said. "Kharsoom complicates everything."

***

***

Tanyth set about organizing the wedding. She would need wedding clothing for us, which in Kharsoom meant harnesses worked with our clan symbol. She would need to acquire enough food for the feast, which was always a challenge in the wasteland. And most importantly, she would need to hire additional guards.

In Kharsoom, as with any civilized land, one was responsible for the safety of one's guests. Unlike most other lands, this meant noble weddings were attractive targets, and more than one war in Kharsoom had begun during a wedding. It was a minor miracle Tanyth and my wedding wasn't attacked. Whenever two nobles married, boldisars appeared like flies on a corpse. Some would be hired and make themselves useful to the wedding, but the rest would merely make trouble, drink, and fight duels as boldisars were wont to do. Drunken boldisars wouldn't make things less dangerous.

Because our wedding happened only after we'd offended nearly every ally of Clan Abibaal, this one would have to bring the clans back into the fold. Tanyth saw this as an opportunity to repair Clan Abibaal's reputation and secure a path to its future. She sent messengers to Clans Bazaya, Laqip, Jebel, Basha, Nikkel, and Ahinadab, asking for the honor of their presence. Tanyth had offended them when she chose me, a barbarian boldisar, and now she had to soothe hurt egos.

We had learned when the midwife from Eirashtar examined Tanyth that we were expecting twins. Tanyth smiled ruefully at that. She of course could not travel, and so had to attempt to deploy her vaunted charisma in the written word. Tanyth slaved over her writing, only reluctantly sending the missives when she had no more time to revise.

"I need you to take this one," Tanyth said one morning, pressing a scroll into my hands, sealed with the purple scorpion. "It goes to Clan Bazaya."

"The clan of your first suitor?" I asked, remembering the callow young man.

"The same. I believe that my words alone won't draw them here. They will require a more obvious show of respect. Thus, I send my husband the brave boldisar to personally petition for their presence. Clan Bazaya are traditional allies, but our marriage hurt our relationship. My father's position depends on friendship with them."

"I will leave at once."

"Take Ujaala and Lysethe."

"I understand the need for Ujaala, but Lysethe?"

"A concubine will give you status, and her wearing a collar will be understandable to Bazaya."

"Do you not wish she were here?"

"We're safe in the castle of my father, Bel. I have Shaluvia in the next chamber, and I sleep beside Maireili. I will be fine. You will be crossing the wastes and could use your most fearsome wife."

"You are my most fearsome wife," I said, kissing her gently.

"Flatterer," she said, smiling. "Now go."

Within the hour, I rode from the gates on the back of my old qobad, Ksenaëe. Lysethe and Ujaala flanked me on qobads of their own, with Quiyahui swimming through the air above us.

***

***

I had grown used to traveling via standing stones. The ride across the wastes brought back a harsher time in my life, and it called to me with seductive memories, telling me I could be the savage boldisar of Kharsoom once again. By day we traveled over the wasteland. By night we wrapped ourselves in furs and rutted like beasts.

One thing troubled me. Lysethe, with her stark white flesh, never burned. I asked her about it, and she said without concern, "The sun would never harm its favored daughter." Those words brought a surge of love into my heart for her.

We encountered only a single gang of bandits on our way, and two wizards working in concert were far more dangerous prey than they had bargained for. We sent them fleeing with bolts of lightning and the finger of the sun. Magic was almost unknown in Kharsoom in those days, and I did not even need to bring Ur-Anu from the aether.