The Belromanticum

Chapter 57

The war changed shape once again. The siege was broken and I was faced with a terrible reality: I could no longer fight the Heacharids from behind my walls. Ironmotte had kept us safe for so long, but now we had to go beyond it and win battles in the field. No longer would one of my soldiers count for ten, twenty, a hundred of theirs. In victory, I had thrown the door open to defeat.

Here Tagarai, my newly-minted Master of Wolves, showed his true value. He ably commanded the strange force I had raised, with our few but blooded wizards, elite corps of Black Rose knights, Zuunese regulars, dwarven engineers, and of course Belzuun-Hegal. He divided them into armies, each led by a wizard and a general, and sent them west, to face Heacharid armies and lay siege to Heacharid fortresses. Our main advantage was that the Heacharids had not fortified their eastern border, and other than their walled cities, were vulnerable.

As we ventured forth from the Arkohum Gate, we encountered the Jaggurghar nation. It took me some time to realize these were the descendants of the bandit clans I had treated with a century before. The war had forged them into a kingdom, settling on the far side of the Zuunkhor foothills on the northern reaches of the tundra. I immediately sought an alliance, binding their kingdom to ours with a marriage of one of my grandsons to a Jaggur princess. I was surprised when they chose a prince of Sarakiel's line, but the prestige of the darkling people had begun to bleed out beyond the Zuunkhor Mountains.

Shura-Hegal had taken over the workshop as the rest of the Hegalites returned to the Red Wastes. Deimara now lived there with her when they were not campaigning in the war. Their happiness warmed my heart and though I fretted that Deimara had not yet chosen a second mate of flesh and blood.

Dioscoro's household continued to expand as he fathered a veritable horde of children. Even into the Sixth Strata, the human population in the area is known for a shocking preponderance of Rhandonian green eyes. One of his children, one born with Lysethe's white hair and red eyes, had the gift and he insisted on training her. More fool was I when I assented. Diotai would be a cruel and petty tyrant in her thankfully short time.

More of my children died, leaving behind families of their own. Miloz, my first child by Maireili, had finished his great work, transforming the ghoul community beneath Tagariaganuur into a true undercity. A small ghaunt population existed, the results of intermarriage between ghoul and human and serving as a sign that the Zuunese had begun to embrace their ghoulish neighbors. Maireili brought me two wizards from them, and Lysethe and I trained them both for the war.

While our modest population was hale enough to fight a siege, it was not equal to the task of pursuing the Heacharids over the Golden Wastes. The population was already rebounding, thanks to both the increase in trade and the lack of constant death on the walls, it was not growing swiftly enough to equal even sluggish Heacharid growth.

I sought a solution, but I could not see one. Even with our new populations of dwarves and ghouls we could not compete with Heacharid fecundity. The answer flitted out of my grasp, but I did not despair for a single reason. My wives.

I have surrounded myself with brilliant women. I do not have to solve every problem, for my wives are more than capable. Every account mentions their beauty but far too few delve into the unique contours of their individual genius. Sarakiel's ravenous academic brilliance, Tanyth's clever political skill, Lysethe's devious military mind, Maireili's razor cunning, Jerrika's logistical knowledge, and Zhahllaia's vast experience and incisive reasoning, were gifts beyond price. If I could not find a solution, they could.

I began to notice they were plotting something. Conversations that ended as I entered rooms, mischievous glints in eyes, and unexplained absences was the reality of my life for almost half a year before they finally revealed their grand design. They waited for the onset of winter, for that was always when our campaigning season stopped. We retreated into our warm homes while the Heacharids pulled back inside their walled towns. Belzuun-Hegal returned to her lair in Ironmotte and my armies sheltered behind the Arkohnum Gate. I was ready for a winter of rest and recuperation, but my wives had other plans.

One night as the first snow fell in Tagariaganuur, I entered our bedchamber looking forward to warmth in bed or perhaps a bout of love. As one, my wives looked to me and their lovely faces twisted into amused smirks. The expression was a normal one on Tanyth, but sat strangely on Maireili's innocent features.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"We have found a solution to our problem," Sarakiel said, setting aside her book.

"But it requires something of you," Tanyth said, her busy hands mending one of Lysethe's tabards. The former witchthrall sat nearby, absently kneading the Kharsoomian's dainty feet.

"What?" I asked, no less warily.

"It is something you should enjoy," Maireili teased. She was perched on the windowsill, her spyglass on her lap. Now that her fear of the sky had gone, she was endlessly fascinated with it. The glass was a gift from Kushan-Hegal.

"The old goat," said Jerrika, leaning against the wall and folding her arms. Jerrika's Abbih was good, though her Mairese accent lingered.

"Out with it," I demanded.

"A marriage," Tanyth said.

"To one of you? I would be pleased."

"Not that sort of marriage, Master Wizard," Zhahllaia said, teasing me with the old title she used so many years ago. "We will be marrying you to a queen."

"You think to add to our army with a marriage," I said.

"She has already pledged us an army and has an order of knights at her command," Sarakiel said. "Though I believe her kingdom is far more valuable for its steel."

"Why would we not wed her to Tarsus?" I asked, naming my youngest darkling son. "Or Dioscoro?"

"Tarsus is married," Tanyth said gently. "And a woman would not be to his taste."

"Oh, yes. Of course."

"And Dioscoro has not the temperament for such an alliance," Zhahllaia said.

"Then one of the grandchildren? Great-grandchildren?"

Tanyth laughed. "She would only agree to you, my love."

"Of course, the Tyrant or no one. I merely..."

"What is your objection?" Sarakiel asked.

"If I marry this woman, I will make of her an immortal. The lot of us will have to live with her for all time!"

"We have met her," Zhahllaia said. "We think she will make an excellent addition to the household."

"You have met her? When?"

"Deimara and I took us in small groups," Lysethe said.

"We had to negotiate the terms of the marriage," Tanyth said.

"All of you are united in this?" I asked.

"We are," Zhahllaia said. The others could not hide their smirks.

"There is something happening here. Something I do not see."

"You will have to trust us," Sarakiel said.

I sighed. "You know that I can never refuse that request."

"It is one of the reasons we love you," Tanyth said. "Enough teasing. Come here and get your relief."

***

We set out in the third week of winter and my mood was that of a man on his way to the headman's block. I trusted my Council to be in charge in my absence, which speaks to the loyalty and efficacy of my government. They were able administrators all, and I saw no daggers brandished in the dark. Strombella Stoneborn wished she could accompany us to my marriage as the idea seemed to amuse her, but she was needed in the capital.

I traveled with my family, including my wives, those children still alive and residing in Zuunkhorun along with their mates and children. It was a huge group that journeyed through the Hinterlands. I was not allowed to cast the spells that would take us through the standing stones for fear I would know where we traveled, though when we emerged after our first long day's journey, I recognized the southern coast of Chassudor. Then we were in the mountains. I suspected, and would later prove correct, that the jagged orange-hued range to be the lower part of the Infernium Peaks.

I was unfamiliar with this part of Chassudor. Of course, later I would live there for many years but at the time, I knew only tales. In the middle of the continent stretching from the coast of the Turquoise, nearly cutting Chassudor in half, the Infernium Peaks were a stark and forbidding marker. It was easy to think of them as little more than jagged teeth, like a split jawbone of a colossal creature, but they possessed a varied and labyrinthine geography. They were dotted with caves and spires, secret valleys and stark plateaus. Entire forests, invisible to those beyond the mountains, lived in perpetual shadow. Idyllic gardens existed high in the sky with plants and animals that thrived nowhere else. It was home to monsters and wonder.

Dragons were rare in the Fifth Strata. I believe them to be extinct now, though I have heard tales and hope that my friend has somehow escaped the fate of her brethren. During the waning years of this strata, their time was coming to an end. Bashamerax, who was said to lair in the peaks, had not been seen in centuries.

I would grow to love the Infernia. The craggy tips reminded me of the Red Wastes, though the wooded areas were as lush as any part of the Nachtwood. Though the chill was cruel, I found I craved it. I would spend a century exploring the Peaks and I believe I only scratched the barest surface of them. Had I not founded Stormspoint where I had, in the only place it could have been really, it's likely I would have stayed there.

Tanyth huddled miserably in her furred cloak as we emerged on our first day above the clouds. "It is freezing."

"You didn't notice when you traveled hither before?" I asked with some amusement.

"We didn't negotiate in the winter," she said through chattering teeth.

On our final day of travel, we emerged on a windswept peak somewhere in the middle of the range, clouds below us. Waiting for us, just outside of the boundary of the stones, was a column of knights in brightly-enameled armor. Their leader was a woman of stunning beauty and commanding height. She had a lovely face, with alabaster skin, dark brown hair cut short, and wide eyes of impossible deep ocean blue. She wore a tabard depicting a dragon rampant and held a shield with the same device, carried a longsword on her hip, a sculpted dragon snarling on the pommel. The dragon device was repeated on shield and banner of the knights behind her.

"Hail, Your Majesty. I am Melisant, Knight Champion of the Order of Bashamerax. Welcome to Bashamailon." The lead knight spoke Eomet with a musical accent that owed a debt both to Mondragon and the western reaches of Esmia.

"Hail, Melisant," I said, "You have me at something of a disadvantage."

"Lady Zhahllaia has informed me. I am afraid I am honor-bound to speak no more on your destination." She nodded behind me and turned, receiving my first look at the place that would eventually be my home.

Built on a great peak amongst the clouds was the castle that I would come to know as the Dragon's Roost. A narrow stair wound about the peak, leading up to the castle's gates. It was a staggering achievement, a collection of towers and spires, deceptively delicate structures that offered a commanding view for leagues when the skies were clear.

The knights formed an honor guard as they took us down the plateau. The road traced the side of the peak, finding an idyllic valley still high in the mountains and covered in recently-fallen snow. I would soon learn that Bashamailon was a network of these valleys, connected with roads that spanned peaks, busy rivers, and even caverns. The knights spoke of the kingdom's diversity. Most were human, but I spied more than one dwarf, several who appeared to have hobgoblin heritage, and even a gnome.

We passed through the town at the base of the peak, Kaibéliard, where the bulk of the knights left us in favor of their great hall. Melisant and three others handed off their horses and led us to the stair. With five wizards between us, we were able to conjure a spell to bear the lot of us to the castle above.

As we rose on a bed of cloud and sunlight, I watched Quiyahui dancing happily through the sky. She was comfortable here the way she had not been in Zuunkhorun. My own feelings echoed hers. I loved my adopted kingdom, in a way, but it had become a trap. A trap that I could see the method of escape, but still frustratingly out of reach.

We reached the castle itself and the younger grandchildren wanted another ride. Melisant led us quickly past the entry hall, to the tower of the castle set aside for us. "Her Majesty has ordered a feast tonight," Melisant said, "Where she looks forward to welcoming her bridegroom."

"I will meet her then?" I asked.

Melisant smiled. "That is how she wishes it."

My wives were positively giddy. After our journey, I thought they would want to rest, but they could not. Servants brought us baths and we washed and groomed ourselves. Sarakiel donned a gown of deep red, Tanyth wore a furred dress of iridescent white, Lysethe a tunic and trousers in reds, whites, and browns, and Maireili had been persuaded to wear a dress of midnight black. Each wore jewelry that enhanced her beauty, from Tanyth's scorpion diadem to Maireili's onyx choker.

Jerrika looked from woman to woman. "I am being outshone," she said with amusement. Her clothing melted into slime, reforming itself to a gown that clung to her curves. Since she had joined my household, her figure had somewhat thickened, though she was not yet back to her living form.

"You look lovely, Captain," Tanyth said with the attempt of a salute.

Jerrika smiled and I swear the touch of green in her complexion was a blush. Melisant, now wearing a fine tunic, waistcoat, and breeches, fetched us and we made our way down the tower, picking up more members of the family as we went. Deimara wore her black robes and Shura-Hegal had somehow been persuaded to wear a dress for the evening. Dioscoro's costume was black and red, and the two concubines who had joined him, one wore red and the other black. Faustan brought with him both of his wives and his new husband, a charming darkling fellow.

We entered the feasting hall where a long table ran the length of the room and the ceiling dripped with banners. Melisant directed us to one end, where the hearth blazed with a great fire.

Tanyth sighed happily. "I shall have to remember to thank our host."

"You'll have ample opportunity," teased Sarakiel.

We took our places and servants filled our goblets with fine Mairese wine. It had been a long time since I'd attended a feast that wasn't lubricated with watered oghul. I sipped, savoring the flavors, and finding I missed my home. Despite over a century there, Zuunkhorun was not that. If it was not now, it would never be.

As I was lost in thought, a page entered and announced the arrival of nobles. This was a modest gathering, but it seemed that some of the local aristocracy had been chosen to attend. I smiled and nodded as politely as I could but my insides roiled. Every time the page raised his small voice to say a name, a queasy fist seized my heart.

Finally, the page entered and in his high voice announced, "Her Majesty, Queen of Bashamailon."

The dread closed in. I had been fighting a war for nearly a century. I'd stood many times in an iron rain of Heacharid arrows and spears. I had been nearly overwhelmed a dozen times and been absolutely certain my days were at an end. It was nothing compared to the fear I felt in that moment, that I would see this woman and know for certain that she was unworthy of the gift of eternity.

"Allegeth ur-Udraeg!" finished the page.

I stared in disbelief as the Queen of Bashamailon entered. It was Allegeth, the woman I still in idle thoughts calledmyAllegeth. She wore a long and elegant purple gown, her body dripping with bright topazes. Her black hair, which I remembered hanging about her shoulders in a wild mane, had been corralled into a complex maze of braids and buns. Her skin was covered in burgundy scales, and though I could not see them, I knew of the patterns of yellow, orange, and black on her arms, legs, and her body. She watched me with vertically-slitted eyes the color of fire and as recognition bloomed over my features, she smiled, displaying her sharp teeth.

"Allegeth?" I murmured. I could not hear her over the blood in my ears, but I saw her mouth my name.

I moved to go to her, and Zhahllaia said, "You forget yourself, Master Wizard."

"It would not do to touch your bride before the wedding," said Maireili.

"Etiquette demands that you stand fast," Tanyth said with a smirk. "So I'm told. This is not Kharsoom."

"You don't underst...I know Allegeth," I said lamely.

"We know," Zhahllaia said mildly. "Why do you think we arranged the wedding?"

"I love you."

"We know. Now sit down and enjoy your engagement feast. You may speak with your bride-to-be anon."

The various nobles toasted our wedding, and out of respect for my party, spoke Eomet. Bards sang for us, and the bulk of these songs were in the local tongue. One of the few songs in Eomet was about the Redmarks, Allegeth's old adventuring party. It even mentioned the Mythseekers, though it left out that wonderful afternoon as we enjoyed one another. I could not imagine such a song would be appropriate for royal modesty.

Conversation with Allegeth was not feasible. Our eyes stayed upon one another and slowly, everyone else faded away. It was like we were at a small, intimate table, not opposite ends of a massive banquet. I could feel her warmth, smell the cinnamon scent of her body, hear the lovely contralto of her voice. I watched every forkful of food to her scaled lips, every flash of her sharp teeth, every subtle glance. Soon, that was not enough and I could feel the warm dryness of her scales and taste the cinnamon milk of her sex.

I shifted in my chair, finding myself uncomfortably hard. Her eyes met mine and I knew she was wet. Something in the way she watched me, moving her thighs. She wanted me and I needed her.

The feast lasted forever. I barely heard my wives as they spoke to one another and to those nobles seated near us. When the last course was finished and we were finally allowed by etiquette to rise and enjoy a curious Mairese port was I finally able to speak to Allegeth. I went for her, Sarakiel and Zhahllaia by my side.

"Allegeth, how..." I trailed off, gesturing to the castle all about us.

"When we met, I told you I was of the bloodline of Bashamerax," she said.

"You did not say you were the heiress to a kingdom."

"Would things have changed between us had you known I was a princess?"

"I might have called you 'my lady.' How did this wedding come about?"

"I returned here after the Redmarks disbanded. I wanted time away and it was easy to lose myself in the peace here. Zhahllaia found me and I had not realized so much time had passed."

"I remembered that she was how you learned to please me," said the djinn.

Allegeth blushed. "I am pleased you have found use for those skills."

"You've heard about Cull?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Rose as well, and your Xeiliope and Alia."

"It is the curse of our kind to outlast our friends. Why did you not seek me out?"

"I did. I heard you went to war and that your ship was lost. I thought you were dead."

I wanted to touch her. Her cinnamon scent caressed my senses. "At the time, it seemed like my exile was forever, but against the time I have spent in Zuunkhorun, it was but a moment."

"I have missed you, Belromanazar."

I reached for her, but Sarakiel stopped me. "No," she said. "There are rules."