Storiesonline.net
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                          The Tales of Tanitsar
                                by Argon

Copyright© 2012 by Argon


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Description: This is the story of Macro, Prince and heir to the throne of Tanitsar, and how he ended slavery in his homeland. It is also the story of Thesia, a slave girl who becomes the linchpin for the unfolding events, of Alana, a lonely, unhappy princess who has to hide her disfigured face, of Anais, a freed slave and tactical genius, and of Pilar, Thesia's sister and rival, who is desperate to show her mettle. My first attempt at Fantasy.

Codes: MF FF cons rom fant harem 1st oral
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Chapter 1: The Happy Return


"Well, Macro, what do you think? Happy to be home again?"

Over the ship's prows, Macro could make out the silhouette of his hometown Tanitsar. The abandoned Great Temple still dominated the city but the New Palace rivalled it both for size and for beauty.

The house in which he lived with his mother and brother was just underneath the Palace, a stone's throw away so to speak, which was convenient since his mother was the First Royal Concubine and spent her days running the Royal Household. She had risen from pleasure slave, through favourite plaything of the King, to being the de facto chief administrator of the palace. Although King Odar had his full contingent of four wives, Javila, Macro's mother, ruled supreme in his heart.

Macro and his brother Lamas had been sired by the King and were his acknowledged natural sons. This fact explained why the young man, at only 24 years of age, already commanded the Royal Archers.

His companion and equal in rank, Ronan, was over forty years old by contrast and in command of the Lancers. Yet they had grown to be friends during the arduous campaign that lay behind them. They respected each other as Macro recognised his friend's superior experience and stout courage while Ronan respected the diligence and valour of the young man who could lead an easy life in luxury, but who put duty above comfort.

It was true that Macro had reasons for being ambitious. Not one of the King's wives had as yet born a male heir, and there was very little hope that they would. The King's younger brother had perished on the seas leaving Macro as one possible successor. As against that, he was a slave's son and the nobles would not easily accept him. Especially since King Odar himself had not succeeded to the throne by inheritance but by overturning his inept predecessor. Military fame would not hurt Macro's ambitions.

He turned to Ronan, finally ready to answer the question. "It's been almost a year. I'm not sure how I will fit into civilian life now."

Ronan nodded. "That's always difficult, but I'm looking forward to seeing my family. Why don't you come by one of the next evenings, so you'll get to know them?"

"I thought you said that you were unmarried?"

"Uh ... yes, I am. I have a concubine though to whom I'm close, and a daughter from her. I was never wealthy enough to find a real wife, and to be honest, I am fond of Teichi and Anais."

"I'd love to come but only if you promise to return the compliment."

"I will, but frankly, your mother intimidates me greatly. They say she has the King's ear, even more so than any of the Queens."

Macro smiled. It was true that Javila was one of the few people to whom the King turned for advice, but in the end he usually followed his own counsel.

"People make more of it than there is," he answered casually. "She speaks her mind, true, but the King is not swayed easily in his decisions, not by anybody."

As the ships drew closer to the harbour, Macro and Ronan could see the black tunics of the Royal Guard lining the street close to the quay. This was tradition. Whenever troops landed in the capital, the Guard was there and made sure they moved on to their garrisons outside of the city, even more so if the troops returned victorious from a war.

In a difficult campaign, Macro and Ronan had vanquished a large force of freebooters in their stronghold on Tabar, the third-largest island under King Odar's rule. Two expedition forces before them had failed, for the freebooters were fearless fighters and well organised. In the end, the tenacity of Ronan and the tactical genius of young Macro had prevailed, and they brought along almost two-hundred surviving pirates as proof of their success, the pirate chief among them.

They transported over one hundred slaves in their holds. Some of these were stolen from their rightful owners, while others had been turned into slaves by the pirates. The latter ones would be reunited with their families. This would not always be a joyous affair, for the women and girls – and the younger boys too – had been used for pleasure by the freebooters.

Tanitsar still relied heavily on slaves for its economy. King Odar, loathing the entire concept of slavery, had taken cautious steps away from this barbaric practice but he had to tread lightly, for the merchants and mine owners were staunch defenders of the old ways. He had, however, banished the enslavement of free citizens of Tanitsar.

This would not change the fate of the captive pirates. They would be accepted with joy by the slave traders. The proceeds from their sale would make the returning soldiers wealthy. The two commanding officers alone would share in three-eighths of the earnings, a quarter was reserved for the subaltern officers, one-eighth would go to the non-commissioned leaders, and one quarter would be distributed among the common soldiery.

Added to this loot would be the finders' fees for the returned slaves, and the expected gratuities from the families of those returned from captivity. Macro expected at least twenty-thousand Tanitsar Guilders, a veritable fortune.

Now the ship approached the quay. Looking aft, Macro saw the other six ships in line and ready to come alongside as well. With a screech and a bump, the ship made contact with the wooden landing. Seconds later, lines secured the ship fore and aft and a gangway was lowered.

The two commanders crossed the narrow strip of water. Behind them, officers and soldiers assembled on the decks of the ships, ready to disembark. Macro and Ronan walked forward to meet the Commander of the Guards. They saluted the man, Gareth by name, who was in charge of the King's safety.

"Commanders Ronan and Macro of the Royal Lancers and the Royal Archers. Permission to land our men?"

"Permission granted," Gareth answered formally before his face broke into a friendly smile. "Welcome, you two! The King awaits you."

"Right away?" Macro asked.

"Right away! I'll see to it that your men are shown to their temporary quarters outside the walls. I shall post guards on the ships to keep watch over your prisoners."

"Thank you, Commander Gareth," Macro answered. "Let us go, Ronan!"

It took just ten minutes of brisk walking to reach the New Palace. The Herald knew Macro, of course, and Macro introduced Ronan.

"Commanders Ronan and Macro, Your Majesty," the man announced as he ushered them into the small audience chamber. King Odar was not a whale for ceremony. He had been a military field commander before he unseated the mad King Lorsa twenty-five years ago. He still had no use for the elaborate court ceremonies which had been the hallmark of the former royal house of Clonal. Macro found his father sitting at a wooden desk that was filled with scrolls and bound books.

"Step closer, Commanders!" he bid them in his usual gruff voice that still conveyed his respect and sympathy. "I've just been over your report again. It does you credit, both of you.

"Commander Ronan, I understand that you want some leisure after your long service for me?"

"My King, I'm not getting younger. I want to spend some time with my family. I mean, I have a daughter by my concubine."

"Tell me about it!" the King grumbled, but he grinned at Macro with affection. "So be it, my friend. But I will not let you go completely. I want you to take over the Academy. Work those boys and girls hard, teach them how to survive and win honour. Will you do that?"

"I am most grateful, Your Majesty!" Ronan beamed.

The post at the academy would allow him to have a normal life near the capital, and yet he would draw a substantial pay.

"Ah, Cup Bearer! Where have you been? Bring some of that wine we got in last week from Hanilei! And glasses!"

The man shuffled hurriedly from the room.

"Macro, I have an appointment for you as well. It will be here in Tanitsar. Your mother would skin me alive if I sent you out again. You have proven yourself and I want you in a position where I can rely on your loyal service. Lamas will take over Gareth's post as Commander of the Guards next month, but I want you as my new Vice-regent of Tanitsar."

Macro was speechless for a second. The Vice-regent of Tanitsar ruled the capital and the main island. He answered only to the King. The Guard would be exempt from his command but the guard would be commanded by his own brother. It was a high compliment, a huge responsibility, and a solid promise of future favour.

"I am overwhelmed, my Father and King. I shall enforce your laws and will as best I can."

"I know you will, Son," the King sighed. "Come and join me for dinner tonight. The Queens will be there, as will your mother of course."

He chuckled with that last addition. In over twenty years, King Odar had rarely eaten a meal without Javila. Odar did not fear enemies, nor disease or death. He feared one thing only – that Javila would die before him.

"I shall be there, my Father and King!" Macro answered, bowing to show his respect.

"You too, Ronan! Be there! And bring your family!"

"My King, my ... companion is but a slave, a concubine, and my daughter is not yet free, either."

"Bring them anyway, Ronan. This way, you will get an even fiercer welcome from them." He guffawed. "It will be a private dinner, only families. And you know my stance on the slavery issue."

"Yes, my King. We shall attend. My most humble thanks."

"Humbug! I shall want to see more of you. I want that Academy reformed thoroughly, and you are the man to do it."

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On their way out they were intercepted by a regal looking woman. She was not overly tall but her bearing made her a dominating presence. Javila, First Royal Concubine, was used to being respected. She wore a slave ring around her neck but she wore it like a crown. It was more valuable than most crowns for that matter.

Over the years, King Odar had shown his affection to the love of his life the only way he could. Slaves were not allowed by law to wear jewellery. They were required to wear the collar. Thus, Javila's collars became more precious with the years. The current one was made of solid gold and studded with large sapphires, sapphires that complimented the wonderful blue eyes of the woman who wore it.

Macro knew that the Queens each had a tiara of the same design. The Queens, all four of them, had joined the King in the years after Javila had risen in his favour. There had been some jealousy early on, but over the years all five women became friends to varying degrees. Perhaps the feelings between the women were stronger than between the King and some of his his wives. All those marriages had been arranged for political gain, to pacify provinces and islands in three cases, and once to cement the friendship with a neighbouring Kingdom.

Javila gave Ronan a friendly nod before she hugged her son tightly.

"I am so proud of you, Macro, and so is the King. Did he tell you?"

"Yes Mother. I hope I can fill those shoes."

"Oh, you will. With Lamas commanding the Guards, and your friend here leading the Academy, Tanitsar is secured for the King."

King Odar was approaching sixty years, and with the lack of a "proper" heir apparent, some nobles grew restive and tried to jockey for power to lay claim on a crown that may become vacant soon.

Ronan noticed that mother and son had things to talk about. He bade his farewell, claiming that the women in his household needed fair warning. Javila clapped her hands sharply and a servant appeared.

"Bring the seamstresses, quickly!" she ordered. Then she turned to Ronan. "I shall send a few helpers with you who will assist your women to dress properly. No need to alarm and distress them."

Ronan protested that his women had proper clothes but Javila lifted her hand.

"I am sure you take good care of them and their needs. But they will not think anything good enough for this dinner. Somebody needs to assure them, and they will not believe you. I wouldn't," she added with an understanding smile.

Within minutes, two seamstresses of the Royal Household were ready to accompany Ronan, and he left thanking Javila for her help.

"Poor Ada is very sick," Javila said once Ronan had left. "You will notice it yourself at dinner tonight. It's a wasting illness, and the healers have given her up. I don't think the King has realised it yet but we shall lose her soon."

Ada, that was Queen Ada, Second Wife, and Macro's least favourite "aunt". Nevertheless, he managed a few words of regret.

"That means King Odar may marry again," Javila continued. "He may yet sire a prince. Don't be bitter when that happens. I know that Odar thinks the world of you and he will provide for you."

"I don't have such a driving ambition. An heir born to the King will be my half-brother, and I shall serve him and the realm as best I can. But how will you feel, with a new, young Queen at the court?"

Javila allowed herself a smile. "I saw him marry four already, and his love for me never waned. Don't worry about me."

°°°

The house was worthy of the King's First Concubine. The former Palace of the Princes was built in the old style. An atrium was surrounded by three wings, and on the open side a terrace faced South, offering a spectacular view of the harbour and the ocean beyond. The centre wing housed the Great Hall, with vast kitchens and storage rooms underneath and with the servants' quarters atop. The East wing was Javila's, while her two sons shared in the use of the West wing.

Lamas was at home when Macro arrived and greeted his older brother with obvious joy and pride. For over an hour, they filled each other in on their life during the past year.

By that time, the servants had heated enough water for a bath, and Macro left his brother alone to enjoy the luxury of the bath chamber. It was not just the relaxing warmth of the scented water but he was waited on by his two personal handmaidens. Tamar and Ella had been given to him for his eighteenth birthday, and they had shared his bed and bath ever since until he left for Tabar. They were eager to give him the welcome due to a victorious commander.

It was most regrettable that he did not have the time and leisure to reacquaint himself fully with the two young women. From their looks, he could see that they had missed him too. Of course, with Macro gone they had been relegated to normal household chores. and that had not sat well with them. Plus, both were used to getting their ashes hauled quite regularly and with some skill Macro thought lewdly. With him gone, they too had had a long dry spell.

Unfortunately, he had to prepare himself for the evening. There would be more discussions at dinner, of that he was sure. He needed information about what had gone on in the city in the past year. New laws and royal orders would have an impact on his duties as Vice-regent. He could not just spend the afternoon cavorting with the girls.

They helped him dry off and he dressed quickly. A short walk brought him to the house of the Chief Justice, the Magister Procopius. Macro hoped to find either the man himself or his daughter Jolia. Several years ago, Macro and his brother had spent many hours at that house to receive basic tutoring in the laws of Tanitsar, and Jolia had been schooled with the two boys. She had inherited her father's interest and she was like a walking library. Macro had been fond of her, and he was looking forward to seeing her again.

Edited by SpikeCO



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Chapter 2: New Tasks


A servant announced Macro, and he was received by Magister Procopius himself in his large study.

"Ah, the conquering hero," Procopius greeted him. The friendly smile let Macro know that the old man was only teasing him. "And you visit me on your first day back?"

"Yes, Magister. I need to know of all new laws and Royal edicts of the past year. The King has tasked me with an important position, and I need to be prepared."

"Yes, as vice-regent you will have need of such knowledge. There have been quite a few changes as a matter of fact. Most of them affect slavery and the slave trade. Unfortunately, I need to speak at the Academy in two hours. Perhaps Jolia could fill you in?"

"That would suit me fine, Magister. I remember her zeal quite well."

A servant was sent, and after a few minutes a young woman of twenty-two years appeared. Macro gave her a friendly smile, a smile that was returned shyly. Jolia always behaved shyly, he mused. It just was her way.

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that she considered herself unattractive. Of medium height, not slender and graceful, she was not fat either. It was hard to tell what she was as her unbecoming clothes hid most of her figure. To Macro, her most beautiful feature were her dark brown eyes. They were large, expressive and restless, reflecting her restless, brilliant mind.

"Jolia, my dear. The commander has asked me for a run-down of the new edicts and laws. Unfortunately, I am short of time. Could you give him the information? As you know, he will be the new Vice-regent of Tanitsar. He needs and deserves our support."

"Of course, father. Is the Noble Macro content with me?"

"I wouldn't know about the Noble Macro, but Macro, Javila's son, will be more than happy with your tutoring, Jolia."

She blushed. "If you will follow me to my study, No ... err Macro?" she offered.

She led the way when he nodded. Her study was adjacent to her father's, and her desk was even more cluttered with books. She sat behind it while Macro cleared another chair of a few scrolls and sat himself. Smiling at her with affection, he pulled a parcel from the bag he carried.

"First of all, I brought a present for you."

"Oh..." she blushed again and he had to nudge her with the parcel. With unsteady fingers, she opened the wrappings, and then her face began to glow with excitement.

"The new Civil Code of Hanilei!" she almost shouted. "Where did you find that?"

"A scripture trader on Tabar sold it to me. I had been looking for something to bring for you. I knew you'd like books better than anything else."

"I shall read it tonight. It is the first I have seen so far. May I show it to Father?"

"It is yours, Jolia," Macro answered smiling and delighting in her enthusiasm.

Jolia took a deep breath. "Now, for the new laws and edicts. First of all, the King has established a special court of law to deal with all matters concerning slaves. The court has exclusive jurisdiction, and a slave owner is no longer allowed to mete out any punishment beyond a simple caning. The penalties for transgressions are rather severe, but at least they were devised to fit the deeds."

"And the planters and mine owners, did they not protest?"

"A few, the predictable ones, did indeed. Most of them seem to be relieved to hand over such matters to court officers, especially if it's a capital punishment or a severe flogging. There is also another side to this. The wanton killing or maiming of a slave is now a punishable crime as is torturing. The King has called the new law the "Slave Act". Oh, and yes, the branding of slaves falls under the torture provision. Only tattoos are allowed, and only by a licensed tattoo artist."

"What are the penalties?"

"Flogging for lesser infractions, penal servitude in the mines for killing, maiming, and torture," Jolia grinned. "The latter was my idea, and I sold it to my father. It's almost a form of poetic justice. Oh yes, all the slaves of a man found guilty are forfeit to the crown."

Macro whistled softly and Jolia continued.

"The King is planning an edict banning the enslavement of free citizens and subjects of all neighbouring nations that are at peace with us. The Eldermen of Hanilei have already threatened us with a complete trade embargo if slavers from Tanitsar continue the trading of Hanilei citizens."

Macro whistled again. "That could be quite a blow to us. I will have to set up controls of all incoming slaves."

"It is time that somebody enforced those laws. Father complains that the overseers of the harbour and the market should do more. Most likely they are bribed by the slave traders."

Macro nodded to that making a mental note to oversee the overseers.

"There is a new set of tariffs in place. I'm not too familiar with these issues; you'll have to ask the Treasurer."

Macro nodded. Taxes and tariffs were the Treasurer's domain, but as Vice-regent he might be required to offer assistance.

"Oh, and a number of new laws are under discussion in the Council. One is of particular impact as it provides that children born to slaves are free of their bond with the passing of their eighteenth year."

Macro understood the impact immediately. There were a number of slave breeders on the islands who kept female slaves for just one purpose: to breed new slaves. But what... ?

"What if they sell them or swap them to foreign traders before they turn eighteen?"

"Yes, your mother saw this immediately. No slave child may be traded at all, nor leave Tanitsar."

"How does the Council think about this?"

"Let's see. There is the Duke of Beyreth. He is a soldier foremost, like yourself. Freed male slaves mean more volunteers for his troops. He'll be all for it."

That was true. Plus, the Duke was a brother-in-arms of the King; he had received the Dukedom as a reward for his loyalty.

"My father is a given, and so is Queen Regula. The Chief Envoy, Petras, is all in favour of abolishing slavery in its entirety. He's spent too much time in Hanilei to accept it anymore. The Treasurer is undecided yet. He is weighing the slave tax against the taxes paid directly and indirectly by the freed slaves. He'll come around. Then, there is the Steward of Tabar, who is in a weak position given his dismal performance against the pirates. He'll side with the winner I'm sure. Of course, the Vice-regent of Tanitsar has not declared himself," she ended with an impish grin.

"We may have to face a revolt by the slave owners. Our economy is built on slavery. Even my mother is against an immediate abolition."

"So true. That's why we'll have another edict. Craftsmen from other countries who settle in Tanitsar and who apprentice young men and women from Tanitsar will be exempt from earnings taxes for five years. The King wants to have more crafts and manufacturing in Tanitsar. The ore found in the mines is shipped to Hanilei for small money, and we import the goods made from it back from Hanilei for a high price. Only the Hani profit when you look at it."

Macro looked at the young woman with admiration. She was so smart and knowledgeable! Her mind was a treasure. Some thoughts must have shown on his face, because Jolia blushed deeply.

"Jolia, I must thank you for the insight you have given to me. You know how much I value you?"

"I'm just a bookworm, and I..."

"You are far more, Jolia. Would you agree to counsel me in my new position? I need you desperately to help me find my way through all the laws and edicts which you store and retrieve with such ease in your formidable brain. Please consider! I must be on my way now. Ask your father and think it over."

"I feel honoured, and I will think about it."

"Thank you, Jolia."

When he hugged her to give her the customary kiss of friendship on the cheek, he felt her tremble in his hands. Nevertheless, she kissed his cheek back.

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Javila was at home when he arrived, and he quickly explained the purpose of his visit to Procopius and Jolia. That earned him an approving kiss from his mother.

He dressed carefully in the black tunic, trousers, and boots of a Royal Archer. A silver crescent moon and three stars on his chest showed his rank. The unadorned leather belt around his waist held his two swords. His dark brown hair was tied back with a black leather thong. The soldiers of Tanitsar's Royal Army did not wear splendid uniforms, much in contrast to those from neighbouring nations.

Lamas was clad almost identically, except for a small breast plate that hung from his neck and identified him as an officer of the Royal Guards. To compensate for her sons' lack of resplendence, Javila wore a blue silk dress, a belt made of gold plates with small sapphires, and of course, her gold and sapphire slave ring. Her mane of blonde hair was tied back and braided as befitted a slave. Her posture, however, belied that. She was the most powerful woman in all of Tanitsar, and her gait showed that she knew it.

The six guardsmen who accompanied them underscored her importance, but also hinted that not everyone in Tanitsar was happy with the former pleasure slave in charge of the Royal Court. Javila was cautious and never left her house or the palace without her Guard detail.

In the private dinner hall, Javila was greeted by the four queens. Macro noticed immediately that the Queen Ada was in fearful shape. She was haggard and deathly pale, and she walked as if she were in pain. She had always been the least friendly of the four, but Macro felt sad when he saw her.

Queen Regula, the First Wife, was another matter. Tall and slender, she looked almost untouched by her years. Her regal bearing changed as soon as she saw Macro. The look she cast at him was warm hearted, even motherly. All through his childhood, Regula had been a second mother to him and to Lamas. Regula and Javila's sisterly friendship were the glue that kept the Royal Household intact.

Regula's wide-spread arms left no room for interpretation, and Macro rushed into a heartfelt hug.

"Look at you, Macro! All grown up now, and a real hero too! We are so proud of you!"

The greetings by Queen Elveen and Queen Drina were less enthusiastic, but friendly. There was and always would be a residue of resentment over their own childless state, and they had never been able to get over that completely.

Ronan arrived next. At his side, but a half step behind him, walked a very beautiful slave, with raven-black hair and unusual features. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, and her black eyes were almond shaped. She was small, almost tiny, especially beside the huge Ronan.

The girl who walked behind them almost made Macro gasp. She was young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, and tall. Most of her height came from almost endless legs. Her hair was raven black too. Yet, her features, while resembling her mother's, were less foreign and softer. Like her mother, the girl wore the customary slave collar made of brass. Neither of them bore slave tattoos let alone branding marks. Haltingly, Ronan introduced them.

"Noble Queens, most honoured Mistress, this is my handmaid Teichi."

The older woman bowed deeply.

"And this is my offspring, Anais."

The girl stepped forward and bowed gracefully.

"How lovely they are, Commander," Queen Regula smiled. "I trust that this precious girl will be freed upon her passing?"

"M-most certainly, my Queen," Ronan blurted, and the girl Anais blushed.

Queen Regula gave a satisfied nod. Macro knew that the Queen abhorred the fate of pretty slave girls who, more often than not, were sold to brothels. She looked around at the available men and grinned smugly.

"Macro, my dear, may I trouble you to escort Anais to the table and wait upon her?"

Macro laughed. "That is no trouble but a distinction," he answered and bowed to the girl offering her his arm. "It pleases me to meet the offspring of my friend and brother-in-arms. Will you honour me with your company?"

She nodded wordlessly, her face showing a faint blush, but she accepted his arm as he led her towards the hall. She was barely smaller than Macro himself and he thought she'd be an even six feet tall

They had hardly sat down at the table when a side door opened and the King entered unceremoniously. They all stood save for the Queens, and Odar made it a point to walk around the table and greet all his guests. When he was seated, Macro helped Anais to her chair and sat down himself.

Conversation was light around the table. Macro and Ronan told the others about the campaign on Tabar. The King began to tell about the new laws only to learn that Macro already knew about them.

Macro had little opportunity to talk to his table partner until after the main course. Even then, he learned little more than that Anais aspired to be a cadet at the Royal Academy of Warcraft, a hope that had just received a boost when she learned that her father would be the academy's new commander. Come the dessert, King Odar threw a parchment scroll to Macro who caught it with dexterity. Opening the tie he unrolled what proved to be his patent as Vice-regent of Tanitsar.

"I shall keep your appointment secret for a few days. This should allow you to catch a few of those rascals in the Magistrate with their hands in the biscuit box. Best start with the slave market. The Master of the Market does not enforce the new laws, damn his eyes! Clearing this cesspool is your most urgent task as I fear that there are still mutilations going on. This must stop. You'll have free rein dealing with those black sheep."

Macro could not help but feel the turmoil in young Anais, and without thinking, he cupped her hand. She looked up, obviously startled by his boldness. He gave her a friendly smile.

"Things are changing in Tanitsar. This will be a civilised country before long."

"Ha, did you hear your son, Javila?" Odar laughed. "A civilised country! Damn right! A toast here! To the new Vice-regent, and may he bring civilisation to Tanitsar so that I can leave a legacy to be proud of!"

The glasses clinked as they all drank the toast. Lamas was the youngest male at the table, and by tradition he had to answer the toast.

"My brother is the new broom that will sweep the dirt off Tanitsar's streets. Let us toast the man who holds the handle of the broom and directs it. Odar, King of Tanitsar, my Sire, I salute you! May your reign continue in glory, and may future generations remember you not only as Odar the Brave of the younger years, but as Odar the Great who led Tanitsar into a bright future!"

After the toast was drunk, the people around the table had more opportunity to talk. Looking at the girl at his side, Macro saw that she was staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Will you really enforce those new laws and stop the barbaric practices in the slave market?" she asked softly.

"I shall uphold those laws and edicts to the letter," he answered, grimly looking deeply into her dark eyes. "I have not and will never forget my own origins."

After the dessert, the whole party moved into the gardens. Macro steered Anais away from the others.

"May I call upon your father to see more of you, Anais?" he asked her, quite surprised at how smitten he was with the girl.

She looked at him with a pained expression. "Vice-regent Macro, I would ask you not to call upon me. Nothing can come out of such a meeting. We are worlds apart. Even if my father emancipates me, I shall still be but a freed slave and you are the King's Vice-regent. If I were destined to remain a slave, I should like nothing better than to serve you. But I crave to be free!"

The last sentence was spoken with such strong feelings, such passion, that Macro took one step back. His eyes lit up in appreciation of the girl.

"Anais, you are a worthy daughter of my friend. You are right too. I shall not pursue you. Let me instead offer my friendship to you."

He rooted in a pouch on his sword belt. Then he took Anais' hand and pressed a brass medal into it and closed her fingers around it.

"This is my token, Anais. Preserve it well. Every soldier in Tanitsar will recognise it. If ever you find yourself in danger, show this to a soldier. He will give you protection and assistance."

Anais looked at him in wonder. "I have heard of these tokens, Vice-regent Macro. Do you really want me to have one?"

Macro nodded. The girl suddenly stepped forward and kissed his cheek. Stepping back, she kept hold of his hand.

"I accept your token with deep gratitude, and I accept your friendship," she said softly.

Then she stepped back and rejoined her father and mother, leaving Macro alone in the shadows.

"A remarkable girl, isn't she?" his mother's voice came out of the darkness. "Don't start any foolishness with her, you hear! The time is not ripe for you and her."

Macro turned. "What do you mean by that, Mother? She just rebuked me. She is not interested in me."

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Javila asked, her exasperation clearly audible in her words. "She just wants her freedom more badly than she wants you. It is good that you offered her your friendship; she may need it."

Editing by SpikeCO



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Chapter 3: Thesia


It had been a month since Macro's return to Tanitsar. The time had been filled with hard work as he had to organise the staff for his high office. That Jolia had agreed to be his legal adviser was a stroke of pure luck. That the Archers were still in the vicinity of Tanitsar was another. He had been able to recruit three dozen of those trusted men to form the nucleus of a new City Guard.

Of course, he could draw on the help of the Royal Guard, but he did not know them well enough yet. Recruiting them would seem like an affront to their commander and would make things more difficult for his brother Lamas. On the other hand, Macro's appointment to Vice-regent of Tanitsar had ruffled quite a few feathers among the nobility and he thought it wise not to wander the streets alone.

Thus, when he entered the slave market this early morning, eschewing even a breakfast, he was followed by his trusted Corporal Bordo and six men. They were all dressed in the black uniforms of the army. The market was clearly just awakening, and preparations were made for a busy day.

His first stop was for private business. The slave trader Elias had taken the captured pirates in commission. Elias was the son of the trader who had once presented young Javila as a gift to the new King Odar. According to Javila, the old man had been considerate to his human stock, had not molested the girls (or boys), and had refused to sell young girls to the brothels. His son followed that lead and was considered sympathetic to the reforms of slavery that had taken place over the last decade.

Most of the captured pirates, save for two crippled men, had found buyers. Macro arranged for the payment to be forwarded to Ronan who would see to the distribution among the officers and soldiers.

"I suppose I cannot interest you in one or two of our recent additions?" Elias asked, only half in earnest.

Just then, a terrible scream could be heard. It was a woman or girl, and it was a scream of pure terror. Signalling his men to follow, Macro strode away to where the scream had sounded. He was rounding a booth in quick strides when something barrelled into him at full speed.

He stumbled briefly under the impact, and he grabbed for the person instinctively. The person struggled desperately in his hold screaming in terror. Stunned, Macro realised that he was holding a young girl. Her upper body was naked and covered with cold sweat.

Then three men came around the corner. Two of them carried the staffs of slave handlers, but one man, more richly clothed than those bruisers, held a glowing branding iron in his hand. They came to a full stop when they saw the soldiers. Macro could smell burnt flesh in the fresh morning air. In a flash, the situation became clear. The girl was a slave to be sold today, and the trader wanted to brand her to save the money for the tattoo. Cold fury grabbed him and he turned to his entourage.

"Seize these men and secure the branding iron!" he rapped.

The two overseers brandished their staffs, but the soldiers drew their swords in return. The sight of the wicked long scimitars intimidated the slavers enough for them to drop their weapons. They were quickly bound.

The girl had ceased her futile struggle in Macro's hands and stared open-mouthed at her bound would-be tormentors. Would-be, because Macro's cursory visual inspection suggested that she had torn herself free before the iron could touch her. With a quick one-handed motion, Macro took off his short cloak and wrapped the bare-chested girl in it.

"What is your name, girl?" he asked her with a gentleness that belied the fury he still felt.

"Thesia, my Lord," she whispered hoarsely. She had obviously expended her voice with those terrified screams.

"Thesia, will you promise me not to run away? I shall not hurt you, by my honour."

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Fine. Keep close to me. Where is the holding pen whence you escaped? Can you guide us?"

Fear showed in her eyes, but she swallowed and nodded. Macro snapped his fingers and the bound men were roughly lifted to their feet. Their leader finally mustered enough courage to speak up.

"What is all this? What business do you have with this bitch? I'll complain with the Master of the Market, I will! Who the fuck are ... Ow!"

The last utterance came in the wake of a vicious backhanded slap which Bordo delivered with his heavily gloved right hand. The slaver's head snapped back with the force of the blow.

"Watch yore manners, scum!" Bordo growled. "'Tis the Vice-regent of Tanitsar you're talking to."

"Vice-regent, what vice-regent?" the man blubbered through torn lips.

"Corporal, send for some reinforcements, will you! And have my scribe come here as well!" Macro ordered. After all, he was in the centre of the slave market arresting a slave trader. Things might turn dicey.

"Thesia, show us the way and never fear."

The girl limped forward and Macro noticed bruises on her calves. Three of his men had been freed slaves before they joined the Archers and, noticing the bruises on the girl, shoved the captives forward none too gently.

The building was low, just one storey, and it was built like a jail. The front room was an office of sorts, and behind it there was another room that was lined with holding cells. A fire was burning and another branding iron was in the hot coals glowing bright red. The stench of burnt flesh still permeated the room making Macro and his men both nauseous and angry at the same time.

"There's one, freshly branded," one of the soldiers exclaimed, pointing at a young boy who writhed in agony in a narrow holding cell.

Macro considered. They were just seven, so he could not afford to send one of his men for a wound healer just now. On the other hand, the branded slave was the final piece of evidence. He turned to the slaver who was still bleeding from his mouth.

"The practice of branding was outlawed in Tanitsar. I find you in violation of the King's decrees. What do you have to say in your defence?"

"Who can afford tattoos for all of them?" the trader answered, still belligerently. "Nobody gives a shit – they're just slaves!"

"Nevertheless, you are breaking the law. It'll be the Cat for you, an even hundred lashes I fancy; and if we'll ever catch you at it again, it'll be the copper mines."

"You can't flog me! I'm a freeman and trader. My guild will stand up for me!"

"The guild is under the King's rule, and I'll see you dance under the Cat's claws."

Just then the synchronised step of two dozen boots could be heard and a moment later, Sergeant Emoran of the Archers stuck his head into the door.

"Ah, Sergeant! Bring these prisoners to the gaol. Also, have all slaves brought to the Vice-regent's Palace and secure them in the holding room. See to it that they receive bread and water, and have a wound healer look after burns and other injuries. And yes, secure those branding irons and close up the place after you leave. Bring everything of value too. This man's possessions are forfeit."

The sergeant grinned at the last words. This was just like their old commander to earn them gold within the first weeks in office.

Macro turned to the girl. "Thesia? Can you walk?"

The girl looked up studying his face for a second and then nodded. For the first time, he had a good look at her. Her hair, matted and tangled, looked like reddish brown. Under the dirt he could now see a pretty, heart shaped face. From the brief moment when he had held her in his arms, he knew that her body, in spite of her apparent youth and small size, was lacking nought in female attributes. He had to clear his throat.

"Ha-hm, fine. Follow me, then!"

Turning abruptly, he walked from the slave holding, the girl and his guardsmen following him. In less than fifteen minutes they reached his mother's house. Of course, Javila was out tending the King's affairs, but a number of household servants were present. He summoned his personal maids, Tamar and Ella.

Thesia gaped when the two slaves hugged the Vice-regent in greeting.

"We missed you this morning," Tamar purred.

"Yes, you can't just leave your business unfinished," Ella added, rubbing her sparsely clad upper body against his midsection.

"Another time, girls," Macro laughed good-naturedly. "We found this girl in the market. Her name is Thesia and she barely escaped a trader who tried to have her branded. She may be hurt however, and she is dirty for sure. You two make sure that she takes a bath and gets something to wear. If she is hurting, send for my mother!"

"Oh, the poor lamb!" Tamar gushed, her sympathy awakened instantly. "Branded? How barbaric! And you escaped? What a brave girl! Quick, Ella, have Ursula ready the bath! Come with me, Thesia! Nobody will hurt you here..."

The three young women were already disappearing towards the bath chambers, and Macro sighed with relief. He left the house and walked the short way to Magister Procopius' house. He found that worthy in his study and quickly relayed the morning's events to him.

The justice made a grim face. "We'll settle this quickly. Bring those men before me an hour after noon. I'll hear the evidence and their defence."

Satisfied that justice would be meted out quickly, Macro directed his steps to the Palace of the Vice-regent near the harbour.

-------

The hot, soapy water was scented with pine needles, and it felt heavenly on Thesia's bruised limbs. Gods! How good it felt to be clean again! For four weeks, Thesia had been kept in holdings, with barely enough water for drinking. For those four weeks, she had sat and slept on wooden planks or stone floors, surrounded by her own refuse.

She had travelled to visit her uncle on one of the outer islands of the Hanilei archipelago when the small ship had been surprised by Southern pirates. Thesia was only a gold smith's daughter, and her father could not find the money to ransom her. The pirates therefore sold her to a wholesale slave trader.

Since she was a virgin, a fact that was ascertained repeatedly during her captivity, she was a valuable commodity and was spared the outright rape her fellow slaves suffered. This did not mean she was spared abuse; far from it! Her mouth and her anus were fair game for her captors, and although they had been mostly considerate enough to grease her anus with lard to avoid too much tearing, the pain and the feeling of violation had been horrible.

When she was landed the day before in the harbour of Tanitsar, she was in for another humiliation at the hands of the slave trader. While he choked her with his member deep in her throat, he told her with a leer how they would brand her, how she would squeal like a stuck pig when the iron would burn into her arm.

All night she had lain awake in fear, fretting over the horror to come. The boy in the neighbouring holding, Raneet, had been first, and his screams had driven her over the edge of her already fragile sanity. When her own holding cell was opened, she tore into the handler like a rabid fox, scratching, biting, and screaming like a person possessed. The handler was completely surprised by the ferocity with which the small girl attacked him, and he let go of her to protect his eyes and bollocks against her teeth and nails. Miraculously, there had been a clear path for the door, and she had run like never before in her young life until she crashed full tilt into her saviour.

With gratitude, she remembered how the Vice-regent had covered her with his own cloak. With grim satisfaction, she had seen how her tormentors were thrown to the ground, beaten and bound. Perhaps there was a chance for her now. With the Vice-regent's help she might end the nightmare she had been in. Perhaps she could return to Hanilei?

The reality crashed down on her, and her brief elation evaporated. She had been defiled beyond measure by her captors. What did it matter that her maidenhood was still intact? She'd had over a dozen filthy, stinking, squirting male members stuck into her mouth. They had used her backside in unspeakable ways. She was unclean; she could never be a bride. She was condemned to live the life of a spinster; pitied, but secretly scorned.

"How are you feeling now, little one?" Ella's voice broke through her misery.

Thesia forced a smile on her face. "Much better, thank you."

"We have prepared a room for you. You can rest until the noon meal. I've sent for Mistress Javila to come and tend to your wounds. She'll be here shortly."

"Who is Mistress Javila, please? Is she the Vice-regent's wife?"

Tamar's bright laughter filled the bath chamber.

"Javila, First Royal Concubine, is Master Macro's mother, my dear. This is her house."

"Oh, and you belong to her?"

Both girls wore collars identifying them as slaves, although they were made from silver and looked more like adornments.

"No, we are Macro's personal handmaids," Tamar answered proudly. "The King himself bought us and gave us to Macro for his pleasures when he turned eighteen."

Slowly, Thesia made the connection. The mistress of the house was the mother of Macro and the First Concubine. That would mean that Macro was...

"Is ... he ... a prince, then?"

"He is the King's acknowledged offspring, but Mistress Javila is not the King's wife. So he cannot be a prince, but he is high in the King's favour."

Ella's voice conveyed her pride in her master. Or was it more?

"How is he, with slaves, I mean. Does he ... demand service from ... all the girls?"

"You wish!" Ella answered. "We'll keep him busy enough without your help!"

Tamar giggled. "Don't worry, little one, you'll be safe. Even if Macro wanted, and he won't, the Mistress would never allow anyone to hurt you. Wait until you meet her!"

The young women helped Thesia out of the bath and dried her body carefully, avoiding the numerous bruises. Kneeling while drying Thesia's lower back and legs, Ella inhaled sharply when she saw the bruised anal region.

"Oh, gods! What they did to you, you poor girl! I'll let Macro know! Those bastards! The cat o' nine tails is too good for them! Let me get some salve for you!"

Within a minute, Ella returned with an earthen bowl filled with scented deer tallow. Without hesitation, she dipped her fingers into the soft tallow and applied the salve to Thesia's battered behind.

At the first touch Thesia flinched; too recent had been the violent penetrations. But Ella's touch was gentle, and the salve was soothing. Soon, Thesia relaxed. Meanwhile, Tamar produced a fresh linen shift and pulled it over Thesia's head. Then the two young women led the exhausted girl into a small sleeping chamber and helped her lay down on a bed.

Heaven! Resting on a soft, horsehair-filled mattress under clean linen sheets was as close to paradise as Thesia could imagine. Gratefully, she pressed both women's hands and within minutes, she fell asleep.

Dusk was already settling when Thesia woke up. She squealed in surprise when she saw an unknown woman bent over her bed.

"You are awake, little one?" the woman asked.

Thesia could only stare. The woman was of medium height, slender, and of exquisite beauty in spite of her advanced years. Blue eyes under dark blonde brows looked at Thesia with compassion. The woman wore her glorious blonde hair in a thick braid that reached down to the small of her back. Around her neck she wore a slave collar, but unlike any collar Thesia had ever seen. It was made of solid gold and studded with large sapphires. The daughter of a gold smith, Thesia could appreciate the material value – it was stupendous.

Thesia tried to raise to show her respect, but her muscles protested with jolts of pain.

"Ssh, little one, stay! I know what you had to endure. You must rest to get well again. Just one question: when you visit the latrine, do you notice bleeding? If yes, we need a healer to look after you. These injuries must not be taken lightly."

Thesia shook her head and blushed. "No, no bleeding, just bruises. Did I sleep all day?"

"Almost. We decided it best to let you rest. You are safe with us, do you know that?"

Somehow Thesia wanted to believe that. She had a question though.

"Mistress Javila? Is the Vice-regent already back? I did not thank him yet for saving me this morning."

"Oh, pooh! You'll see him around. A pretty girl like you, and he'll find you soon enough." Then she saw Thesia's look. "Oh, no! That's not what I meant. He'll never force you or hurt you. Not my son! I only meant that he would show up and pay you compliments."

"Oh!" was the only answer Thesia could think of.

"You'll be satisfied to hear that the Justice Procopius convicted the trader of torturing a slave. Six dozen lashes with a cat of nine tails! You must have slept soundly or you would have heard his screams even here. His helpers received two dozen lashes each. His possessions are forfeit, and the slaves fell to the crown. I'll see to it that they find proper use for them at court. Oh, and you, my little one, were granted to the Vice-regent as a compensation for his troubles."

"I'm his slave now?" Thesia gasped.

Javila winked. "Only as long as it takes to free you, little one. How old are you?"

"Seventeen and a half, Mistress."

"He can't free you before you complete your eighteenth year. We cannot let you leave either before that. It's the law. I will suggest to Macro that you'll work for me until that time. He asked me already to take you under my wings and to teach you."

"Do I have to serve the King then?" Thesia asked timidly.

Javila raised her eyebrows at first, but then she understood and laughed. "Oh dear! You mean because I am the King's concubine? There is far more to my position at the palace than warming the King's bed, believe me! When I said you'll work for me, I meant in the running of the palace. The King's bed is a bit too crowded for you to fit in, small though you may be."

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It was another two days before Thesia saw the Vice-regent again. Javila had roundly refused to let Thesia work for her until she healed completely. Thesia had nothing to do but laze in bed and wander about the house. That is, until she discovered the library. Books and scripture rolls abounded on the shelves that lined the walls.

Careful not to damage any of the precious leather bound books, she pulled them off the shelf one at a time. She saw books on astronomy, on alchemy, but also codes of law from different countries and times.

This morning, one book intrigued her in particular. It was a history book, written in the Old Language, and covering the early years of Tanitsar and the neighbouring nations, before the Hani people came to Hanilei and supplanted the Old People, their culture and their language. Thesia immersed herself in the writing, forgetting time and place. The voice, gentle as is was, scared her, and she jumped to her feet.

"You can read the Old Language?"

It was the Vice-regent who had quietly entered the library. Thesia quickly knelt before him.

"Oh, get up already!" he said lightly. "Get up, I said!"

Thesia stood, her head bowed.

"Thesia, if you don't look up at me, how can I speak with you?"

Reluctantly, she looked up.

"My Lord, may I thank you for saving me?" she asked.

"Oh yes, but enough of that already. I asked whether you can read the Old Language, Thesia."

"Yes, my Lord. My mother taught me."

"You are from Hanilei, aren't you?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"So you were born free?"

Thesia nodded.

"How did you end up in a slave pen, then?"

"I took a boat to a neighbouring island, my Lord, to visit my uncle. The boat was taken by pirates. They offered to ransom us, but I was ... am a virgin, and the ransom they asked was very high. My father could not pay that much on short notice. He offered himself, but they laughed at him."

"And they sold you instead?"

Thesia nodded. The memories of the last weeks threatened to overcome her, and her eyes flinched.

"Poor girl! You do know that you are with friends now, don't you? I have obtained your papers, but on completion of your eighteenth year, I shall set you free. You have nothing to fear in my mother's house. Perhaps, if you want to write a letter to your family telling them where you are and that you are safe now, I can have it sent to Hanilei with a trading ship."

Thesia's face showed a mix of emotions. On one hand, she wanted her poor parents to know about her whereabouts. On the other hand, the shame over what she had been forced to endure weighed heavily.

"Sleep over this, Thesia," the Vice-regent said gently. "But to return to my original question, are you able to translate those old books into Hani?"

Hani, the language of Hanilei, was spoken universally all over the islands. She thought about it briefly. Burying herself in this library was tempting. Reading and translating those old writings would distract her, would shut out the ugly outside world.

"I believe I can, my Lord."

"Excellent! All I know of the book you were reading is that it tells the history of our islands from before the first Hani rulers, right?"

"Yes, my Lord. It tells about the Old People and their rulers."

"We should really have it translated into Hani. Will you give it a try, Thesia? Just translate the first few pages and write down the translation. Show it to me tonight."

Thesia bowed. "I shall not disappoint you, my Lord."

Suddenly, there was a finger under her chin forcing it up until her eyes looked into the Vice-regent's.

"When we are alone, call me Macro like everybody else in this house does."

Thesia blushed. His blue eyes were very much like his mother's she thought. She could lose herself in those eyes ... She snapped back.

"I will, my ... Macro."

"See, that wasn't difficult. I shall go now. I'll send someone with paper and ink."

-------

Damn! From where did all the beautiful girls come all of a sudden? Macro hurried along the hallway trying to shake off the spell of those green eyes. Why hadn't he noticed it before when she crashed into him? He had only seen a skinny, half-naked waif, terrified and bruised, with tangled hair and a smudged face.

What had Ella and Tamar done with her? They were supposed to wash her and make her look human again, not to turn her into the gorgeous creature he had just left. She was his guest, she was under his protection, and yet he wanted nothing more than to grab her and carry her off to his bedroom! Damn! First it was Ronan's daughter Anais, and now Thesia. Sweet, beautiful, and unattainable.

After giving orders to bring writing materials into the library, Macro rushed from the house. His guard had to run to catch up with him and the corporal cast him an accusing look. Macro did not care.

The remodelling of the Vice-regent's residence was in progress as Macro could see when he entered the two-story building. The former Vice-regent had used the building both as an office and as private residence. Macro had decided, after consulting Javila's opinion, to stay in his rooms in her house.

The upstairs rooms of the Vice-regent's residence, which had been the lavishly furnished private quarters of his predecessor, were being converted into functional offices. Macro wanted all his staff close by and not spread over the city.

On the ground floor, in place of the old slaves' quarters, he established the quarters for the City Guard. He had proposed a force of fifty, and the King had approved. The Guard would police the streets of Tanitsar, the markets, and the harbour. They also had holding cells for the miscreants in the basement.

Also on the ground floor, in the former audience hall, there was to be a small claims court which would deal quickly with all the petty quarrels involving property disputes and petty theft. This court was overseen by Jolia, as part of her duties as legal counsel to the Vice-regent.

On a whim, Macro gave orders to convert one of the unclaimed rooms on the upstairs floor into a writing study for Thesia. He justified this to himself by claiming that he was interested in the progress she made. Having her close would allow him to interact with her during the daytime. Of course, that was not the full truth. As he grudgingly acknowledged to himself, he looked forward to seeing the girl.

Edited by SpikeCO



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Chapter 4: Changes


Macro shifted uncomfortably in his pew seat. He had to be careful not to fidget too much since a lot of eyes were directed at him and at the other high dignitaries, and the occasion was a most solemn one. It was still new to Macro – to sit with the King, the Queens, and the ministers in the seats reserved for the ruling class of Tanitsar. As Vice-regent of Tanitsar, he ranked just behind the five Royal Ministers, normally ahead even of the Duke of Beyreth, and the Steward of Tabar. However, since the Duke was also the High Constable of Tanitsar, meaning the supreme commander of all armed forces, Macro found himself sitting in the third pew, between the Duke and his family and the Steward whom he knew well from the campaign against the pirates.

Before them on the dais stood the ornate sarcophagus of Queen Ada. She had finally succumbed to the wasting illness a week ago, and Tanitsar was in a state of mourning. The King seemed deep in thought but composed. Macro knew from his mother that Ada had been his least favourite wife. She had chafed under her childless state, and had sometimes vented her frustration on her sister-wives and even the King himself. Most of all, especially in their younger years, she had taken out her frustration on Javila and her sons.

Javila was not in attendance. Although she was the King's favourite, she was a slave when all was told and she had no place at a royal burial. Macro assumed that she was watching the ceremony anyway from one of the walkways in the ceiling of the Temple.

The Deacon was pulling out all the stops. It had been fifteen years since the last ceremony of similar importance had been conducted, and it was the first under his tenure. He read no fewer than three long sermons, had four different dignitaries speak eulogies, and then went through the most elaborate consecration ceremony for the sarcophagus.

"Twenty guilders say the King will sack him before this week's over," the Duke whispered to Macro.

"Father!" his young daughter hissed from underneath her veil.

"No takers," Macros whispered back. "He's already tapping his foot."

That was true. King Odar was showing impatience. Even the Deacon noticed – fortunately – and he rather rushed through the rest of the ceremony to the relief of the assembled dignitaries.

Only the King, the Queens, and the pall bearers followed the Deacon into the crypt where the sarcophagus would be entombed. The rest of the officers, nobles, and wealthy citizens sat through almost a half hour of complete silence before the King and his wives stepped out of the crypt and marched along the centre aisle towards the huge doors.

Pew after pew, in strict order of rank, the dignitaries followed their ruler to form a column of black-clad mourners. Outside the Temple, the lesser citizens, the freemen and their wives stood bowing before their King and offering their sympathies in murmured words.

The dignitaries followed the Royal family to the New Palace. Once the door of the palace closed behind them, Macro had a duty to perform. On a podium to the left of the main gate of the palace, a herald was ready and a trumpeter blew a signal whilst Macro walked up the stairs.

"Hear ye, hear ye, People of Tanitsar! Hear the Vice-regent of Tanitsar!"

Macro stood before the crowd that filled the large square in front of the palace. He unrolled the script and began to read with a carrying voice.

"By orders of our King, Odar the Brave, and in memory of our revered Queen Ada, I herewith proclaim a state of mourning over all of Tanitsar. No wine or spirited drink shall be quaffed, no music shall be played, no cards shall be dealt, and no dice cast in all of Tanitsar for a full moon, with the exception of a child's birth which shall be celebrated as a joyous occasion, for the wonder of birth is higher than the mystery of death. So speaks our King!"

He stepped from the podium to the grumbles of merchants and publicans alike. The King had already told Macro in private not to enforce that edict too strictly. What people did in the privacy of their homes would not bother the King and it certainly could not bother the dead Ada.

Having thus performed his duty, Macro signalled for his guard to follow him and walked the short distance home. His mind was busy with the various tasks he had to perform in the aftermath of the burial. An additional worry had come up three days before when a caravel came to port and reported a gruesome find.

They had come across an abandoned ship on the high sea, a slaver. They found only one dead body on the decks, but the log book told the whole story. A deadly disease had broken out shortly after the ship left Tanitsar, and for days, the survivors threw the dead and dying over board until only one man, the Master Navis, remained. He too caught the sickness, and in his last written words, he blamed their own wickedness for their fate.

Looking into the matter, Macro had discovered that it was the same ship and crew that had brought Thesia ashore, and the same men who had violated her. Sometimes the old Gods reared their heads, Macro mused – it was a fitting end to the slavers' wicked lives. Yet, he had felt dread over the possibility that Thesia might have caught the same sickness. Only the careful study of the log book had given him relief, as all the men had died within four or five days as the Master Navis had duly recorded. If Thesia had caught that plague, she would have shown the signs weeks ago.

On the other hand, this could mean that the slavers had caught the disease in Tanitsar. Reports had come in of dead rats showing signs of the plague, and Macro had ordered a thorough fumigation of all the sewers in Tanitsar. So far, the measures had prevented any spread of the plague into the human population.

Lamas was on duty organising the security at the Palace. Javila, however, was at home and she looked up when Macro entered the large atrium. With her was Thesia, and they were sitting in the low resting chairs talking in low voices.

Thesia had shown an astounding development over the last two months. Working with Macro or his mother on an almost daily basis, she had lost all shyness around them. The fear that had lurked in her eyes was almost gone, as were the bruises. The pewter slave collar had been replaced by a silver necklace that could pass for a collar only on a very liberal interpretation. Her wonderful reddish hair was now bound in a long braid much like Javila's, and the dresses she wore barely qualified as those of a slave.

Working with her had made Macro more relaxed around her and he no longer feared to lose his control and violate her trust. However, seeing her now sitting at ease and talking with his mother, gave rise to even more far-reaching ideas.

No longer was he just attracted by her physical beauty; the work she had done for him had inspired new feelings of appreciation and even admiration. When she was not busy translating old books, he had her compose the official announcements and decrees that left his office. Within weeks, she had become his private secretary, nullifying earlier plans for Thesia to work for his mother.

Now she looked up, and the smile that formed on her face made his longing even stronger. He quickly joined the two women, remembering in time to give his mother a kiss before acknowledging Thesia with a friendly greeting.

"How was the ceremony?" Javila asked.

For a moment, Macro thought she was teasing him. But then he realised that she really had not watched the proceedings from a hiding place as he had thought. Javila read him easily.

"The King and I decided not to run the risk that I might be discovered. That would seriously jeopardise some of our plans. I've been serving my King and Master faithfully for twenty and five years, and a scandal now would make the next steps difficult."

"Really?!" Macro almost shouted, catching the implication immediately. Thesia looked at both of them.

"Should I explain, Mother?" he asked, and Javila nodded.

"We have an old law, a privilege so to speak. When a female slave has served her master faithfully for twenty-five years, meaning she had been his concubine for that length of time, he can break the collar and hand her the pieces. By this she will become his rightful wife, and any offspring — Mother, really?"

"Yes, Macro. Any offspring resulting from their time together become the master's body-heirs. Jolia could explain it better. She researched this old privilege once more to make sure we had it right. When a man could not have rightful heirs from his married wives, this would allow him to continue his line with offspring from his concubines. The privilege has even been claimed by a King before. Lothas, King of Tanitsar, was the son of Ediris, a concubine of his father Elgar. That means there is a precedent. With poor Ada gone, there is even an opening."

Thesia's eyes grew big at first with the realisation that her master Macro would one day become King of Tanitsar. But then her face fell and her eyes misted over. Excusing herself, she almost ran from the atrium.

Macro was surprised and worried. "What's with Thesia?" he asked his mother.

"You really don't know? Men!" she exclaimed with exasperation. "Macro, the girl is madly in love with you. She has worked tirelessly for you in the vain hope that you will appreciate her enough to consider her as your wife once she is free. But if you become a prince she sees no hope."

"Are you sure, Mother? I mean, I can understand gratitude. But love? What's so special about me that a wonderful, smart, and gorgeous girl can set her eyes on me?"

"Well, my son, that already answers my next question. To answer yours, you are not put together too badly, even if I say so myself. On top of that you have some qualities that women appreciate: you are attentive, courteous, and reliable. And if Ella and Tamar's cries indicate anything, you are no slouch under the sheets either."

Macro blushed at his mother's bold remark.

"What was that question that I already answered?"

"I was going to ask you if you love her too; that wonderful, smart, and gorgeous girl! You gave me your answer. Now listen to it yourself and then speak with her."

"But the King... ?"

"I believe he may have one marriage lined up for you."

"Oh, he has, hasn't he?" Macro stated weakly.

"He'll tell you when the time is right. If you follow his wish with that, he'll let you fill the three remaining beds at will."

"Who then?" Macro almost whined.

"Tsk, tsk, I can't tell you that. Trust me, he has your best interest in mind. Now go and give poor Thesia some assurance."

Macro had never been in the female slaves' quarter before, and he was self-conscious. Fortunately, he saw Ella but she gave him a dirty look.

"Macro, you know how I feel about you, and I never thought I'd have to be angry with you. Why did you have to crush her feelings so badly?"

"Whose feelings?"

"Thesia's. We know that her dreams are not realistic, but couldn't you let her down easily?"

"What did I do? She just ran from the atrium. I didn't even know she was ... is ... Anyway, where is her room? I need to speak to her."

"Better leave her..."

Macro wasn't even aware of the change in his facial expression, but Ella blanched and knelt.

"Third door to the left! Forgive my insolence, Master!"

Macro caught himself. "Ella, Ella, I did not mean to frighten you. I did not mean to hurt Thesia. Be at ease. Let us cuddle tonight and forgive each other, shall we?"

The young woman nodded and smiled with relief. "Forgiveness will be fine, Macro, but let us wait with the cuddling." She looked pointedly at Thesia's door.

Macro smiled, and gave her a kiss on her cheek before turning and then walked along the hallway. For a second, he considered knocking, but he knew that she would tell him to go away. He softly opened the door.

When he saw Thesia's slumped body, face down on her bed, her shoulders jerking in violent sobs, he was at her side in a flash. Kneeling beside the bed, he gently stroked her back.

"There, there," he cooed. "What did I do to make you so sad? Did I say something? Tell me please, Thesia. I cannot stand seeing you so miserable."

He felt her stiffen under his touch and then relax again.

Her face still buried in her mattress, she shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's just me and my stupid, stupid ideas."

"My mother says that you care for me, Thesia. Is that true?"

For an answer, she buried her face even deeper and groaned in desperation.

"Thesia, I care for you too. Ever since you ran into me. At first, I was ashamed for my desire after all you had been through. Then I realised you were not only beautiful, but smart and loyal and ... and loveable. Thesia, if you care for me we can find a way."

She rolled on her back. Damn, even with her eyes red and swollen, with her hair dishevelled and her mouth trembling, she was beautiful. He bent over her and kissed her gently. Thesia lay perfectly still and held her breath. Her green eyes stared up at him in wonder when he released her mouth.

"I love you," she said softly. "I was but a runaway slave, and yet you wrapped me in your cloak to cover my nakedness. You took me to your home and treated me like a person. For that, I should already love you. But it's more! Whenever I look at you, I find new reasons to love you. If you will have me, I can be your concubine. I've seen your mother and the King together and they have more than most married people have."

"Thesia, love, I promised to set you free!"

"You did, but I'd be a freed slave, not a free woman. You know your laws. I could not marry a Prince. As your slave I can be near you. I can even have your children."

"There must be a better way. Let me ask Jolia for advice for she knows all those old, forgotten laws. Perhaps there is a way to revoke your enslavement, some precedent we can claim. Let's not rush things. For now I am content knowing that you feel for me too."

Her face fell. "You don't want me?"

"Not as a slave if I can help it! Didn't I just say that I love you? I love you too much to rush things. I want you for the rest of my life, not just for the rest of this year. I want what's best for us. Let me make the inquiries. In the meantime, we'll see each other every day. There is no hurry."

"Will you kiss me sometimes?"

Macro had to smile. "Lots of times, my love."

"Now?"

He laughed. "I would, but you have to blow your nose first!"

"Oh you!" She hit him hard with her fist. Realising what she had done she froze.

"Ow! What?" Macro asked, when he saw her fearful expression.

"I hit you," she said in a small voice.

"But not very hard," he grinned. "Easy, Thesia. You're not my slave, although I might spank you later for your transgression."

Her face relaxed. "I did not mean it," she said contritely.

"Will you blow your nose now, or do I have to kiss you with all that snot?"

"I have no handkerchief."

Macro pulled his own handkerchief and made a show of wiping Thesia's nose, repeatedly inspecting the nose from all sides until Thesia began to giggle. Only then did he take her delicate face in both hands. His kiss lasted for minutes, and Macro tried to put all his feelings into it. He must have succeeded, for Thesia's eyes were hooded, and when he finished her breath was short.

Her own small hands took hold of his head, and she ruffled his hair and beard. Then she crawled on his lap and snuggled against his chest, hugging him with surprising strength.

With one arm wrapped around her shoulders, his left hand dropped on her legs and he inhaled sharply. Her dress had ridden up on her thighs, and his hand came to rest on her naked skin, just a hand's breadth away from her womanly treasures. Her legs opened without hesitation, and he let his hand wander over the inside of her thighs. When he moved his hand up, he encountered moisture – her thin loincloth was soaked when he touched the fabric, and she moaned into his shoulder when his thumb brushed over her wetness. With an effort, Macro cleared his head. If they continued along this path there would be no stopping.

"Thesia, we need to be strong. I want you, but I want to do it right. Will you come back to the atrium? You, my mother and I can talk then."

With a visible effort, the girl came out of her daze. "What will your mother say?"

"Thesia, she told me to go and talk to you. She knows how we feel. Don't you know how much she likes you?"

"She is the most wonderful woman!" Thesia gushed. "Will she really be a Queen now?"

"She and King Odar are very close. She'll have to move into the palace, though."

"And you?"

"I suppose Lamas and I have to start our own households," Macro laughed.

Indeed, he mused, his life would change in more than one way. With some coaxing, he was able to get Thesia to wash her face and accompany him back to the atrium. Javila was still waiting for them, and she stood up and hugged Thesia.

"Are you feeling better now, little one?" she asked the young redhead.

"Yes, Mistress Javila. We have talked."

"I must speak to Jolia, Mother. We need to find a way for Thesia to become a free woman again."

"Macro, Thesia, you have to realise that we cannot rush things too much. Thesia, Macro will have to marry more than one woman, likely four as is the custom for Royalty. You cannot hope to be his first wife. I shall make a case for you to be his second wife. It will be the best if the King were to meet you, and I think I have an idea."

Thesia nodded to that, not caring one whit whether she'd be first or fourth.

"I shall be Macro's, whatever my status will be, even if it's as his concubine" she said simply.

Edited by SpikeCO



-------

Chapter 5: Revelations


It was a month later. Macro, with Lamas, Javila, and a very nervous Thesia, walked the short distance to the New Palace. Ten soldiers of the Royal Guards escorted them, as befitted the First Concubine and the Commander of the Guards. The clinking of the guards' armour filled the quiet evening.

They could hear music from the taverns as they walked. The moon of mourning for Queen Ada was over, and the citizens of Tanitsar were eager to resume their normal life. Even in the Palace things were returning to normal. This evening's dinner reception was the official signal.

When they arrived, the old chamberlain announced them.

"Macro, Vice-regent of Tanitsar; Lamas, Commander of the Royal Guard; Javila, First Concubine, and the Maid Thesia of the Vice-regent's household."

The hall was already filled with people. The chamberlain guided Macro and Lamas to the head of the table, just to where the dais ended. Javila and Thesia, by contrast, were seated at the foot end. Thesia's fearful look cut through Macro's heart, but there was little he could do. A slave, even a favourite one, did not sit with the high officers of the realm.

Macro and Lamas sat side by side, in the plain black of soldiers. Around them, a number of dignitaries were seated, mostly noblemen of the old order, and they wore resplendent, ornate clothes to show their wealth and power to the world.

The looks directed at the brothers were mixed. A good number of the nobles had given friendly greetings. Macro's military exploits had garnered him respect, and his handling of the office of Vice-regent had increased that. Within a few months, the widespread corruption within the city's administration had been suppressed. Lamas, as Commander of the Guard, was also treated with respect. He was the sword arm of the King and received respectful greetings, for the Guard had far reaching powers in Tanitsar.

There were others, men and women who looked with contempt at the sons of a pleasure slave, and resented the high offices held by the brothers. Those nobles were mostly linked to Botho of Clonal, a cousin of the late King Lorsa. Botho, at almost sixty years of age, was the focal point of all those who wanted to restore the House of Clonal to power.

The object of their devotion was Elbar, the son of Lorsa, and in their view the true pretender to the crown. He was a small man, invariably polite, and obviously quite content with his life as it was. He was known to be a learned man, and he enjoyed the theatre and music. His main interest, as everybody knew, was the study of history. He sat across from Macro and Lamas and had nodded a friendly greeting. Macro liked the man and his unassuming demeanour.

His musings were cut short when a herald announced the King, who entered with his three remaining wives to take their seats on the dais. An old man in plain but expensive clothes walked in the King's wake. He was tall and skinny, and his sole sign of rank was a heavy gold chain around his waist. A Hanilei Elderman!

Macro remembered hearing that an important personage from Hanilei had landed that morning, but he had not thought it would be one of the five men who ruled Hanilei. Something big must be brewing.

The Elderman was seated on the dais, but a few seats away from the King. Two seats were left free. That was a curious arrangement, but the guest did not seem to mind. Another seat, Queen Ada's was also left empty.

As soon as the King and his guest were seated, the first course of fish was served. No wine or spirits had been served to the waiting guests, but now, servants filled the heavy pewter cups with a light white wine that complimented the sea fish. As was his custom, Macro drank sparingly. Lamas did not drink wine at all; his watchful gaze wandered through the hall incessantly. This was the first royal reception under Lamas' protection, and he took his duty seriously.

After the first course, the King stood and his guests dutifully followed suit.

"My noble Lords and Ladies, honoured officers of the realm, my dear guests," the King began. "As is our custom, the mourning for Ada, Queen of Tanitsar, ends today. Let us from this day forth remember only her life and cherish the memory of it."

He paused giving his wives and his guests a chance to reflect on the deceased.

"Next, let me welcome my guest, the Elderman Brukar of Hanilei." The austere looking man bowed politely. "It is not often that we are honoured by such high-ranking visitors, and I greet you, Brukar!"

When the polite applause died down, the King took a sip of wine before he continued.

"As is our custom, I have to select a new wife to fill the void in my court."

The nobles listened up. This would be interesting. A new wife could mean that a body heir to the King may be born. Macro became tense as did Lamas. Macro saw his brother's hand on the hilt of the short sword, ready to react to any threat.

"I have mulled the options. No noble widow of proper family is unwed in Tanitsar. The daughters of the noble families are young and deserving of a better fate than to wait upon an ageing king."

Here the King nodded towards Elbar of Clonal, who, strangely, nodded in smiling agreement. He had a daughter of marriage age, the Noble Alana, and many had pegged her as future Queen.

"As my age advances," the King continued, "I become set in my ways, and change loses its appeal for me. For over twenty years, my wives have stood beside me, in good times and in bad. I do not wish to unsettle them by adding a fresh face to my court.

"For this reason I shall invoke my Master's Privilege. Javila, daughter of Heran, step forward!"

A murmur arose as the assembled dignitaries began to understand. Javila had stood from her chair, and she walked along the long table until she reached the dais. Bowing deeply she waited.

"Step up, Javila," the King spoke.

Javila took the two steps up to the dais and stood before the King. With both hands, the King reached for her collar, and with a mighty twist of his still powerful hands, Odar broke the collar in two. Macro suppressed a smile realising how a gold smith must have weakened the collar in preparation for this ceremony. Javila knelt and received the broken halves of her collar.

"Javila, daughter of Heran, you having served me bodily for twenty and five years, I break your bondage and take you for my wife as our law allows. Rise, my Queen Javila!"

The tension in the room was thick. The noblemen as one looked at Botho of Clonal for guidance. Of course, they all knew this law. But to use it to raise a slave to queen? Before the old man could vent his wrath in proper words however, Elbar of Clonal stood up.

"Long live the Queen Javila," he spoke with his usual soft voice. "And long live King Odar, for the Glory of Tanitsar!"

Then he sat down again smiling shyly. Old Botho turned purple. He took a deep breath and looked around. His followers were as surprised as he was, both at the scandalous announcement and at the unexpected reaction from their pretender.

"I thank the Noble Elbar for his gracious words," the King spoke, and his voice made clear that he did not encourage further discussions of his announcement.

Javila had quickly taken the free seat on the King's left side. The King took her hand and kissed it briefly before he continued.

"This will also settle the long-standing question of succession. My new wife has born me two sons who already added honour to my crown. Stand, Prince Macro! Stand, Prince Lamas! Stand, and take up your rightful positions at my side!"

It was only then that Macro realised why those seats had been left empty. Blushing in spite of themselves, the two brothers stood and ascended to the dais. One after the other, they were given a formal hug by the King and then stood behind the empty chairs to the King's left.

"Now that my family matters have been resolved, I ask you, my Nobles and Freemen, to raise your glasses in honour of Queen Javila and of my sons, Macro and Lamas!"

"Long live the Queen! Long live the Princes!" the chamberlain intoned.

The answering voices were mixed in their response. Some were cheerful, some were reluctant, and some were downright hostile. The King raised his glass once more.

"Now, at last, I ask you to enjoy yourself and to be merry on this joyful occasion!"

The serving of the second course, a marinated beef roast, quelled most of the heated exchanges at the lower table. The King bent over to his sons.

"Take good note of who is your friend and who is your foe. Tonight, their emotions are on the surface."

Macro nodded to that. He had already noted the expressions of many of the noble guests. The second course was eaten almost in silence. This helped Macro to regain his equanimity.

Then, from Lamas' left, the Elderman spoke. "I shall need your assistance to complete my mission, Prince Macro. Your father, the King said this was your jurisdiction as Vice-regent of Tanitsar."

Macro looked to the right. The King gave him a nod in affirmation.

"I shall be happy to be of service, worthy Elderman. What is your pleasure?"

"I was charged to ransom the Hanilei citizens presently in a state of slavery in Tanitsar. Your father assured me that your office has records of all the slaves."

"That is indeed so," Macro nodded. "I can direct one of my scribes to prepare a listing of all slaves whose origin is Hanilei."

Suddenly, Macro realised the implication. Thesia! She was from Hanilei. The thought of losing her made him sick. He had to find a way!

"According to our laws, you would have to buy them in order to set them free, worthy Elderman."

The Elderman turned pale. "And by Hanilei law, I would end on the gallows if I bought a slave, even for the purpose of freeing him or her," he stated.

Macro had an idea. It would solve his own problem, and it would solve the Elderman's problem. "Worthy Elderman, is this to be a one-time initiative or would you rather have all of your citizens freed as soon as they are landed in Tanitsar?"

"The latter would be quite agreeable. How would that come about, my Prince?"

"The People of Hanilei and the realm of Tanitsar could enter into a treaty whereby any enslaved citizen of Hanilei, once landed in Tanitsar, will have his or her enslavement revoked entirely. In return, we must offer a head money to compensate the traders and owners, or they will ship their Hani slaves to other islands."

"And this would work?"

"I will have to clear this with the Chief Justice. I'm a soldier, not a scholar of the law."

"I see. I am most thankful for your helpful suggestion, Prince Macro. Am I right to assume that your own views on slavery are not favourable?"

Macro held the old man's gaze when he answered. "Slavery has to go over the next decades, perhaps only years. But we must be careful not to do this too fast. The next series of laws in the Slave Code will ease yet another set of hardships. I am sure you have heard about that. But if we end slavery here and now, the freed slaves will have to find work to support themselves. That is fine for the young and strong. But what about the old and sick? Nobody will hire them, and nobody will take care of them. As slaves, their masters must not abandon them at old age. As freed slaves, they are also free to starve."

The old man smiled. "You propose evolution instead of the revolution we had?"

Twenty-one years before, the yeomen of Hanilei and the slaves had revolted against the Don of Hanilei, their monarch. Within a few days, almost the entire nobility and the priesthood were killed by angry mobs. It took more than a year for order to be restored. Knowledge and many innocent lives were lost along with the oppressing rulers.

Under the Council of Eldermen, trade and crafts soon flourished again. But Macro had heard that money had replaced noble pedigree as a ticket to power. The merchants ruled just as the aristocrats had, and the former slaves were now cheap labour suffering hunger once they were too old to work.

"I would like to preserve the good while ending the bad," he answered.

They were torn from their discourse when the Herald banged his staff on the stone floor. Javila stood and addressed the guests.

"Noble and worthy guests, we shall have a reading now for your entertainment and enlightenment. The House of the Princes has a library, a very old library that holds books and scrolls from days long gone."

Elbar of Clonal started visibly.

"The oldest parchments and scrolls are written in the Old Language, and nobody was able to decipher them. Then, a few months ago, a young woman, a girl, joined our household. To our surprise, we found that she can read and understand the Old Language. We have given her the task of perusing the old books and scrolls. She is to write them down in Hani, so that we may all delight in the knowledge of the Old People. Tonight, the girl, Thesia by name, will read from the first book she translated, called the Tales of Tanitsar."

A shy and reluctant Thesia re-entered the room, a stack of paper sheets in her arm. She stood at a small lectern to the side of the table and laid down the sheets. Macro felt her nervousness and he crossed his fingers under the table.

"Brave King Odar, Princes and Queens, Nobles, Mistresses, and Masters: this is the tale of the Tanitsar of old.

"Empty was this island Tanitsar, and barren. Neither man nor beast roamed the land. Far to the North, however, lived the people of Grundar, under their King Effir. He was a strong ruler, fierce in battle, but cruel and selfish. He saw Amanar, the daughter of the mighty wizard Aman, and he inflamed in passion for her. Not heeding her protests nor Aman's threats, he took her for his wife by force.

"Black clouds formed over Grundar when the furious Aman summoned his powers. Rain and hail destroyed the crop, killing sickness took the livestock, and the Black Plague felled the people, nobles and commoners alike. Day after day, people died. They asked Aman for mercy, but the mighty wizard laughed at them, even when his own poor daughter died of the plague, side by side with the cruel king.

"It was then that Effir's firstborn son, Hundis, manned his strong ship, with twelve of his truest followers and their virgin sisters, and off they sailed, leaving behind the plagued land of their fathers.

"On Tanitsar's shores they landed weary of sailing, and here they found land that no farmer had ever ploughed. Hundis was strong and just, his friends were strong and good, and their sisters were strong and healthy. Each man picked a wife from among his friends' sisters, and the Gods were merciful and did not punish them for Effir's deeds. Thus, they formed the Twelve Families. Only Hundis, feeling the curse of his father's deeds, abstained from marriage, and his line died with him. The Twelve Families, however, flourished and multiplied."

Thesia had begun haltingly, but after the first minute, she immersed herself in the tale. Her voice gained strength and expression, and she stood as tall as her small frame permitted. When she finished her reading a half hour later, the Royal Family and the guests had listened with rapt attention. Javila smiled like a proud mother when Thesia bowed modestly.

"You did well, Thesia," she told her.

"Most ably done, my dear girl," the King spoke, and for once, nobody in the hall disagreed.

"How can she read the Old Language?" the Elderman from Hanilei asked, visibly shaken. "That knowledge died twenty years ago with the priests. Who is this girl?"

"She is Thesia, daughter of Lutar, a goldsmith in Hanilei. She is one of those you came to ransom, worthy Elderman," Macro said.

He could see excitement in the old man's face, but another man jumped up.

"A king's ransom would be too cheap for this girl!" The exclamation came from Elbar. He stood, a bit shaky and clearly agitated. "Thirty years of my life I devoted to the old scrolls. Sometimes we thought we were close, sometimes we despaired. Tell us, young Thesia, how you learned the language of the Old People."

Thesia was flustered by all the attention. "My mother taught us, my sister and me, when we grew up. She had us read from two old books, and I liked the stories in them."

"Your mother, does she live in Hanilei?" the Elderman asked sharply.

Slowly, Thesia nodded.

"Is she a priestess?"

Thesia shook her head. "She is my mother, and she keeps my father's house."

"Does she have hair like yours, Thesia?"

"No, Elderman. I come after my father with my red hair. My mother's hair is fair, almost silvery."

"Eloa! The Priestess Eloa! Those rumours were true. She escaped the slaughter at the temple. Oh, what a happy day! We may yet rebuild the Hanilei Temple!"

The old man fairly jumped up and down in excitement.

The Royal Family and their guests had watched the exchanges with astonishment. The revelation of Thesia's identity had taken them by surprise. Macro felt a stab of fear. Would Thesia leave him now to return to her family? Elbar spoke urgently.

"My King Odar," he began, and his uncle drew a sharp breath, "the girl must be freed from enslavement if indeed she is the Priestess' daughter! But she must teach us to read the Old Language. There are so many scrolls and books, so much knowledge lost until now! The girl must stay in Tanitsar!"

Many voices started into a heated discussion. The King held back. Macro saw that he conferred with Javila. Macro felt that the discussion was going too far and too wild.

"My King, my Nobles," he cried. "This is no decision that should be made after food and wine. Let us meet again in two days' time to discuss this issue soberly."

"A voice of reason," Odar spoke. "Worthy Elderman, I understand your excitement, but I agree with the Noble Elbar. The girl Thesia's place should be here in Tanitsar. We preserved the old writings. In Hanilei, they were burnt by a misguided mob when the temple was destroyed. Her talent would be wasted in Hanilei. But we shall share the old knowledge with all our neighbours. That I can promise.

"I also agree that the enslavement of the girl Thesia must be revoked. We are fortunate that the Vice-regent, Prince Macro, saved her in time. This being said, I herewith decree that the Maid Thesia from Hanilei was wrongfully enslaved. I revoke her enslavement. As she is not of age and a maiden, I shall make her my ward and I entrust her to my son's household for protection and care where she may continue with her learned efforts."

The Elderman looked none too happy, but then he gave a nod and a thin smile. He obviously reckoned that if he found the Priestess Eloa, Thesia's mother, he would still hold the grand prize.

Elbar approached Macro when the guests began to leave. "My Prince, would you grant me the favour of allowing my daughter Alana to visit and speak to your father's ward? Alana has worked hard to help me in my quest, and recently, she has made progress. It would mean a lot to her."

"I shall consider it an honour were the Noble Alana to grace my home with her presence," Macro answered politely.

"Thank you. You must know that I too have a collection of old scriptures in my home. Learning how to read them would give us immense pleasure and satisfaction."

Secretly, Macro was intrigued. Nobody had seen Alana of Clonal without a veil in almost a decade. Rumour had it that she had suffered terrible burns when she was fourteen. Those burns had marred her face forever it was said. So bad was her reputed disfigurement that nobody had ever courted her, even though she was the granddaughter of the former king. Now she would visit the Palace of the Princes. He would have to make inquiries to find out her likes and dislikes.

Edited by SpikeCO



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Chapter 6: Alana


"No! Don't touch those scrolls, imbecile!"

The old servant stopped in mid-movement at the sharp command. How often did she have to remind this annoying person to keep her hands off that desk?

"Dekra, haven't I told you time and again to leave my desk be? Those are brittle parchments, hundreds of years old. If I ever catch you again messing with my desk, it'll be the laundry room for you!"

The stupid person was not even contrite!

"I served your grandfather, may he rest in peace, and he was always content with me!" she said in that whining tone that annoyed Alana so much.

"Then go and clean his tomb!" Alana exploded. "I want you out of here, you hear! I've had it. Out, and never dare to enter this room again!"

The look of real fear on Dekra's stupid face was only half satisfying. The stupid cow! Of course, King Lorsa had been content with her. Thirty years ago, Dekra must have been a pretty thing, and if she had been as stupid as she was now, Lorsa had certainly fucked her with pleasure.

Pretty! How she hated that word! It was the opposite of what Alana was. Alana was ugly. Alana was disfigured. Alana was the Scarface. Alana had to cover her ugly face lest she scared away visitors.

It was early morning, but her day had gone to the underworld already. She looked accusingly into the highly polished pewter plate that served as mirror. Even the imperfect image showed the scars on her left cheek where the hot coals had forever destroyed her beauty. And beautiful she had been! At fourteen, the young nobles had already vied for her favour.

Everything had changed on that fateful evening. And she had nobody to blame but herself. She was so full of herself, so arrogant! When the maid had not ironed the dress she wanted to wear to her liking, she had grabbed the iron to hurl it at the young girl. The iron had opened, and the hot coals had dropped on her, igniting the wax paper collar which had been a fashionable accessory at the time.

The burning collar left her cheek covered with scar tissue. The scars were not bright red anymore, but they were all Alana could see when she gazed into the mirror plate. She turned away and covered her head with a veil. Time for breaking the fast. Her father had been invited to the Palace the night before, and Alana was eager to hear the news and gossip.

When she entered the study room where she usually had breakfast with her father, she saw him bent over a manuscript. Looking up, she saw his excitement already.

"There you are, my little one," he smiled. "I have exciting news. Sit, and I'll tell you."

Obediently, Alana sat. She loved her father. He was the only one who still treated her like before, who still showed his affection. And she shared his passion, his driving ambition to unravel the Old Language.

"Oh, before I forget, King Odar has broken Javila's collar and she has taken Queen Ada's place. Her sons, Macro and Lamas are princes now. Uncle Botho is enraged, of course. He'll never give up. Personally, I think Macro will make a good successor. The way he runs Tanitsar as Vice-regent already shows his qualities.

"But you would not believe what happened. After the meal and all the announcements and toasts, a young slave girl from Javila's household stepped up and read from the ancient Tales of Tanitsar, translated into Hani!"

The cup dropped from Alana's hands, breaking in two and splattering the table with tea.

"The ancient tales, in the Old Language?"

"The very! She's from Hanilei, of all places. A visiting Elderman from Hanilei – he was as baffled as the rest of us – asked her where she learned the Old Language. Imagine, she's the daughter of the lone surviving priestess of the Hanilei Temple. The priestess married in the aftermath of the sack of her temple to hide from the mobs, but she taught her daughters to read the Old Language. The Elderman demands the girl is returned to Hanilei of course, but what for? Tanitsar is where we kept the old books and scrolls. In Hanilei, they burnt them! What is she to do there?"

"But father, aren't you disappointed?"

"Disappointed? No, of course not! With her help, we can now read all those old writings. I don't want to decipher a language. I want to read the books and scrolls. You can meet her tomorrow at the Vice-regent's residence. Bring your own work too for comparison."

"Father, I can't! There are people, and..."

"Alana, it's the only way. Who knows how the King will decide? Elderman Brukar carries weight. Perhaps the girl will have to leave. You have to learn from her as quickly as possible."

-------

"The Noble Alana, to see the Vice-regent," the major domus announced.

"Don't let her wait outside, show her in!"

Macro did not want to offend Elbar's daughter. The woman who was shown into the atrium was tall and well built, yet she moved hesitantly, and she unconsciously controlled the seat of her veil every few moments. Her voice was cultivated and pleasant though.

"I thank you for receiving me on such short notice, my Prince," she said nicely.

"Receiving the visit of Alana, Elbar's daughter, is an honour for me and my household. Would you care for refreshments? We have fresh grape juice, unfermented, if you like it."

He had informed himself, and he knew it was her favourite. She tilted her head slightly and nodded.

"That would be nice, thank you."

Macro looked at the major domus, and the man nodded and disappeared. A few moments later, Thesia appeared in the atrium carrying scripture rolls under her arm.

"Noble Alana, this is Thesia, daughter of the Priestess Eloa of Hanilei. Thesia, this is Alana, daughter of the Noble Elbar."

Thesia curtseyed and was surprised that the veiled noblewoman also bent her knee.

"My father told me that you speak and read the Old Language, revered Priestess."

"Oh, but I am no priestess! My father is but a goldsmith, and my mother keeps his house. They say she was a priestess of the Temple, but I am only her daughter."

"Be that as it may, it seems right to me to address you with the respect due to your descent," Alana answered. "Would you be willing to help me understand the Old Language? Like my father, I devoted years to the effort of understanding the old tales, but with nobody alive to teach us, it was all in vain."

"I feel honoured by your request, Noble Alana," Thesia replied.

"I hope you will not find me rude, but I need to attend to my office," Macro interjected. "Feel free to command over my staff for your convenience."

Alana nodded. "Of course, Prince! You have the King and Tanitsar to serve."

Macro bowed again and gave Thesia a wink to which the girl responded with a happy smile. Then he left in a brisk step, for he was late already for an appointment with Jolia.

-------

When Macro had left, Alana studied Thesia from under the cover of her veil. The delicate beauty of the girl was nothing short of breathtaking she thought. With a jolt, she realised that she felt no envy, no resentment. Perhaps, it was because Thesia did not show any vanity at all. Her dress, while of good quality, was modest, and she wore her glorious reddish hair tied back into a braid like a slave.

"How shall we do this, Noble Alana?" Thesia asked, interrupting Alana's musing.

Alana thought briefly, but then she decided to get the formality out of the way.

"First of all, could you simply call me Alana? I am here as your pupil, to learn from you."

"If you so wish, Alana," Thesia answered. "I thought, I could show you the letters and their pronunciation, first."

"Yes, why don't we start with that," Alana agreed.

-------

When Macro returned home from the Vice-regent's Palace, he found that Alana's carriage was still waiting in front of the Prince's Palace, as it was called again. He found Thesia and Alana in animated discussion and bent over a scripture roll. Too late, he realised that Alana veil was flipped back over her head, and when he entered, she looked up in surprise.

Of course, Macro had heard that Alana had been disfigured by an accident, and the rumours said she was unbearable to look at. That was nonsense, he decided. Her left cheek was marred by fine, criss-crossing scars, and the skin there was slightly reddish. But the rest of her face, the right side especially, was unblemished, and Macro saw how beautiful Alana must have been. He corrected himself. She still was.

With a terrified shriek, Alana realised that her face was on display. Fumbling for her veil, she noticed that Macro's face showed no revulsion at all, but then tears of shame and embarrassment clouded her view. Somehow, the seams of her veil had got stuck in her hair needles. She bent her head sobbing helplessly.

In a flash, Thesia was at her side. "What is it, Alana? What did we do? You did not mind me seeing you, did you? Why Macro?"

"He's a man and a soldier. There will be new stories now about my ugly face!" Alana blurted.

Macro knelt before the women. With his index finger under Alana's chin, he lifted her face against her resistance.

"It is true: I can see burn marks on your left cheek, but who could ever call you ugly? Don't you agree, Thesia?"

Thesia appraised her, and for a moment, Alana held her breath. She somehow knew that Thesia would speak her mind.

"Macro is right. You have beautiful eyes, a well formed nose, and a wonderful mouth. Your left cheek is marred, true, and on first look it detracts from your beauty. When I look at you longer, though, I see the beauty again. It is a pity that my mother wasn't around when you were burnt. She has this salve that she applies to burns. Look at my arm! I was scalded by boiling water once. There is only a faint scarring left of it."

Alana saw the faint traces. But for her foolish grandfather who had banned the priests from Tanitsar for opposing his claim to deity, a skilled healer could have done wonders with her face. She gave Thesia a smile.

"You are very kind. I thank you too, Prince, for your kind words. I would like to believe you, but the pewter plate tells me the ugly truth."

"Ah, but when you look at your image, you do it to see the scars. I tell you this, Noble Alana, and please believe me: Thesia and I have declared for each other; she will be my wife. If I were free, though, and looking for a wife to share my life and hopes, I would ask your father for permission to court you."

Alana had to smile in spite of herself. "My father would agree, no doubt, but my uncle would rather kill me. He's looking for a suitable noble left and right, and I harbour little doubt that somebody will take me for a wife, if only for reasons of politics. I hope we will never be pitted against each other, Prince Macro. I like you and your future wife."

-------

Over the next months, Alana became a frequent visitor, both at the Princes' Palace and in the Vice-regent's Residence where Thesia did most of her translation work. The two women even became friends. That was mostly owed to the fact that Thesia was the first woman Alana ever met who matched Alana's keen intellect. For Thesia's knowledge was not restricted to old scriptures, she was also a herbalist, and she knew more than the basics of healing.

In turn, Thesia grew to like and respect the young noblewoman. She was possessed of the same hunger for knowledge that Thesia felt herself.

Then, one morning, Alana did not arrive at the time she was expected. Instead, a servant of the House of Clonal delivered a letter. It was brusquely written, informing the Vice-regent that the Noble Alana, granddaughter of the last rightful King of Tanitsar and daughter of the rightful pretender would not consort with slaves and their offspring anymore. The letter was signed by Botho of Clonal.

Thesia was very saddened over the loss of her companion and she was worried of the future. It seemed as if Botho of Clonal had no fear of antagonising the Royal Family. Macro took the letter to the Palace and showed it to the King. They had a long discussion about the need to guard themselves against Botho and his followers.

Edited by SpikeCO



-------

Chapter 7: The Uprising


It was five months after Javila had been raised to Queen and Macro had become Prince Royal. His work had not become less because of this. In addition to his duties as Vice-regent of Tanitsar, he had to fill in for the ageing King frequently, in particular when the duty involved dealings with the public or long travel.

Odar wanted his son and successor to bond with the citizens and the common soldiery of the realm. Macro would never be welcomed by the nobility. His power base had to be the yeomen, the merchants, the army, and – although this was not discussed openly – the freed slaves of whom there were thousands already.

Thus, Macro spent many days touring the garrisons. He inspected the living quarters of the common soldiers, he joined them on exercises, slept with them under the open skies, and he listened to their complaints.

He saw to it that the Royal Archers, his old troop, were fitted with new cross-bows instead of the old longbows. They had long complained that their arrows were no match for the heavy body armour worn by knights. There was also the issue of ailments associated with the long-term use of the longbow which required brute strength from its archers. Macro also saw to it that their garrison was moved closer to the Capital.

The Lancers too received frequent inspections from the Prince. He resolved one of their long-standing complaints, this time about their foot wear. Sandals were the norm for soldiers, being light and giving good aeration to the feet on long marches. The Lancers, though, planted the butt end of their lances against their feet when awaiting a charge, and this often caused foot injury. Therefore, closed shoes with reinforced insides were fashioned for their use.

He spent time at the army academy which was led by his old brother-in-arms, Ronan. He mingled with the cadets, sparred with them, and participated in the teaching. He talked Ronan into forming a regular troop out of the cadets, with subaltern officers selected from their own ranks. Many of the young cadets were the sons and daughters of slave women, sired by their masters and freed upon their coming of age. These youngsters saw Macro as embodiment of their own dreams.

Anais, Ronan's daughter, was also a cadet now. In the span of a year the gangly girl had matured into a tall, sinewy young woman who was fiercely devoted to the hard training. She was Ronan's pride and she had been elected as a troop leader by her peers.

When she turned eighteen, Ronan emancipated her in a short ceremony. Macro took the time to ride out to the academy to attend Anais' birthday, and he presented the blushing young woman with a special sword. It had been crafted in Nipom, her mother's land of birth, and it was forged from folded steel. Anais had tears in her eyes when she accepted the precious weapon.

Then there were the Guards, led by his brother Lamas. He met them frequently for they were now responsible for the safety of his own person and household. Since he shared the house with Lamas he often dined with the officers of the Guard. Lamas had also done his part bonding with the guardsmen, and the two Princes enjoyed great popularity with them.

This morning, Macro was sitting in his office at the Vice-regent's Palace and going over the last night's report of the City Guard. The recent weeks had been eerily quiet in Tanitsar. The frequent clashes between the soldiers of the King and the armed followers of the noblemen had ceased completely. It seemed as if those followers did not come to town anymore. Macro had an uneasy feeling about it. It was common that noblemen left the city with their entourage to live at their country homes or to visit kin. But it seemed like they were all gone. That would bear some attention he decided.

While he was mulling this issue, a visitor was announced. "Elias, the trader, to see you, Vice-regent!" one of the scribes reported.

Curiously, Macro bade him enter. Elias the slave trader was not a frequent visitor. While the other slavers had frequent business at the Vice-regent's palace to register slaves, Elias seemed to fade out of that business. With the pirates as prime supplier gone, the slave market in Tanitsar was drying up and the demand for free labourers was increasing. Elias, it seemed, had found it worthwhile to find work for labourers and labourers for craftsmen, charging a fee from both for that service. Now he entered but his face showed that he was upset.

"Elias, what a rare pleasure!" Macro greeted him. "Do sit! Can I order refreshments?"

"No, my Prince, but I thank you. I come with a grievance. It seems that my fellow traders have received shipments of war captives, rather large shipments it seems. Why would my house be excluded from receiving those captives for trading?"

"War captives?" Macro asked, nonplussed. "We are not at war and I have learned nothing of any shipments. What makes you think that they are war captives?"

"They are young, strong men. They still wear their boots and their tunics are all in the same style."

"How many of them, old friend?"

"Likely more than two-hundred. That's why I think there should have been an open bidding."

"Elias, I shall get to the bottom of this. If these new slaves are indeed war captives I shall see to it that you will receive your fair share. For now it should be best if you did not speak about this matter."

After Elias had left, Macro paced his office for a few minutes. Two-hundred soldiers were in Tanitsar, captive or not. Did the Guard know? He rang his bell and a young servant appeared.

"My compliments to Prince Lamas, Commander of the Guard, and will he join me for the noon-meal. Run!"

Lamas came within the hour, clearly alarmed at the urgent summoning. Over an improvised meal Macro filled him in on what Elias had said. Lamas was instantly worried.

"This sounds fishy, Brother. The traders should have alerted the Guards that a trained soldiery of two-hundred is in town. What do you make of it?"

Macro made a face. He had been thinking about this since he learned of Elias' grievance.

"Could be greedy traders. But it could be a plot too. Think of it, Lamas. Two-hundred men. Arms can be hidden anywhere in the market. Now you have two-hundred armed men. Not enough to storm the Palace, especially at night when the gates are closed. But enough to overpower the guards at the city gates."

"Damn it! You're right, Macro. But who's behind this? The only one I can think of is Elbar. But this is not like him."

"I agree. But what about his crazy old uncle Botho? He'd do it and confront his nephew with the results. He favours slavery and the traders may easily be in liege with him."

"Yes, that fits. But what are we to do? I'll rouse the Guard, of course. But if the Nobles support this plot they can have more than three-thousand people marching on Tanitsar. Plus, they still form the Noble Horsemen."

Lamas was referring to the heavy cavalry formed by the sons of the nobility. Those knights would stand against them, and a formidable foe they would be.

"We need reinforcements. I'll alert the Academy. Ronan and his cadets can man the gates and the walls together with the Royal Guard. You should take a company and move into the market. While you seize those foreign soldiers I shall ride out and mobilise more troops."

"Shouldn't we alert the King first?"

Macro shook his head. "There are too many ears in the Palace. Move now with your Guards and eliminate the enemy within. I shall ride to alert Ronan. If you find soldiers in the slave holdings, inform the King and move our household to the Palace."

Lamas nodded and stood. Patting the hilt of his sword he looked at his brother.

"Better go home and arm yourself, Macro."

He left before Macro could reply. Rethinking his plan, Macro wrote a few lines of information and called for Thesia.

"Thesia, do not be alarmed, but there is treachery afoot. Lamas and I must act on it. Bring this letter to my mother. Don't leave the Palace after that. Stay with my mother, you hear!"

Thesia turned pale but she nodded bravely. Macro called for his personal guard. Five men were to accompany Thesia to the Palace. The rest, six men, followed him to his house. Arriving there he quickly put on his body armour and armed himself with both his swords and a short lance. By the time he was ready, his horse was waiting and already prancing nervously.

Off he galloped, out of the old city and into the hills. At this hour there was scarcely anyone on the roads. Macro therefore felt instant distrust when he saw five men loitering on the side of the road. They jumped up and tried to block the road but Macro was moving fast and he was ready. His long sword killed the first man before he could lift the javelin he carried. The second man was run over by Macro's charger while a third attacker's feeble defence proved ineffective and his head rolled into the dust. Then Macro was past the ambush.

Ten minutes later saw him already approaching the Academy. The former summer residence of the Princes sat in the centre of a park, and Macro could see the cadets as they executed various column developments. Ronan could be seen supervising the training, and Macro directed his horse to where his old friend stood.

Ronan looked up, surprised and alarmed.

"Friend Ronan," Macro panted, still winded from the ride and the short fight, "there's treachery afoot and the King needs his loyal followers. Assemble the cadets, arm them, and march on Tanitsar. Guard the gates and the walls. I'll ride on to bring in the Lancers and Archers as reinforcements. Be careful on the way. The foe is already surrounding the city. March in force and on full alert, with vanguard and rear guard!"

"The Nobles?" Ronan asked with flashing eyes.

"The Nobles and the slavers seem to be behind this. You take orders from no-one but the King or my brother Lamas!"

Macro wheeled his horse and even as he spurred his charger he heard Ronan's stentorian voice bellow the orders to file in before him. The cadets rushed to obey and Macro caught a fleeting glimpse of Anais who was leading a troop. Then he galloped down the road to the North.

-------

Prince Lamas inspected the Guard as they formed file in the courtyard of the Palace. The two column leaders reported their columns ready, and Lamas thought quickly about the orders he had to give.

"Guard, at attention!" he ordered, and the men stiffened, realising the urgency in their commander's voice. "The First Column will close off the Palace until further orders. Gates will be closed and the walls will be manned. Be ready to repel attackers!

"Second Column, you will follow me to the slave market. Be ready for a fight. We have reports of two-hundred soldiers masquerading as slaves and hiding in the slave holdings. We'll surround the market and move in. Any resistance will be broken, d'ye hear?"

"Aye, Prince!" the guardsmen shouted, banging on their shields, many of them with great eagerness. The Guard had felt left out in the recent war with the pirates and they were anxious to prove their mettle, but also to win loot.

"Column Leader Ceres, I entrust the Palace to your vigilance. Dismiss!"

The First Column rushed to their posts.

"Second Column, on the double, march!"

It took them only a few minutes to reach the sprawling market. Merchants and customers looked aghast at the sight of the quick-marching guards who held their wicked halberds at the ready. It was an uncommon sight in the normally peaceful Tanitsar.

Fortunately, the necessity to keep slaves from running had forced the slave traders to build a market within the market with a high wall surrounding it and with only two gates. Taking the gates into their possession was but a minute's effort for the guards. Leaving a strong detail at each gate, Lamas took the rest of his men into the slave market.

The slaver Arras stood at the door of his slave holdings. Seeing the Guards marching down the narrow alley his face showed alarm and he turned as if to flee. Lamas smiled grimly.

"Greetings Arras," he said coldly. "You would not have a few captured soldiers here, would you?"

"C-captured soldiers, my Prince?"

"Oh, you know, tall men in army boots, well fed, and ready for fighting?"

Arras obviously thought it best to say nothing. Lamas fought down his impulse to rush into the holding. Instead, he ordered a full score of men in. The leader came out again after just a minute, looking grim.

"There's nigh on six dozen men in there. They're not armed but the holdings are open and there's plenty of food and drink. If those are slaves I want to be one myself."

Lamas' hand fell on the trader's shoulder. His voice was almost friendly now.

"Smuggling foreign soldiers into town, Arras? You know that this is high treason. You'll be quartered for that, imagine that."

Arras quickly became unglued. "N-nobody said anything about high treason, no-one indeed, my Prince. I was just to give them shelter for a few days I was told."

"Who else shelters soldiers?" Lamas asked, still friendly in tone.

"Erbas and Luthrin, my Prince, and his brother Traco also has a few."

Lamas needed just a short nod, and three of his sergeants led their men away. He looked at the sergeant who had searched Arras' shop.

"Have their waistbands cut and march them out!"

A man whose waistband is cut cannot run or fight lest his pants fall down and he stumbles. After a short while the prisoners walked out into the alley, their hands in their pockets, and flanked by the guardsmen who had their halberds felled and ready.

"My Prince, we found a weapons hoard in one of the underground holding cells. Swords and short pikes!"

Arras turned ashen at these words, just as Lamas' face became a mask.

"A rope and a noose," Lamas ordered with a cold voice. "String the traitor up in his own doorway!"

The rough hands of the guardsmen subdued the feeble resistance of the slave trader, and within a few minutes' time his feet stopped twitching as he dangled from the archway of his own house.

Lamas turned to the captured soldiers. "Who is your leader?" he asked, and a tall fellow stepped forward.

"I am Thrakis, these men answer to me."

"Very well, Thrakis. Where do you hail from?"

"We're free companions."

Lamas nodded. That fit. The Nobles had hired mercenaries to pose as slaves since their own men might be recognised.

"Thrakis, we'll take you prisoner. When the traitors are subdued, I shall have you transported to whichever land will take you. You'll not be starved unless you start being a nuisance. Right now I have no quarrel with you or your men. Keep it that way and you will get out of this alive."

The tall mercenary nodded. "'Tis only fair, Prince. You caught us unprepared. Another twelve hours, and we would have done our work."

The mercenary nodded significantly and Lamas nodded back. Thrakis had given him valuable information in return for the promise of good treatment. Lamas turned to the Captain.

"March those prisoners to the citadel. Have them secured in the upper level dungeons. Give orders to feed them regularly and to treat them well. Give me two scores to return to the Palace."

The Captain saluted stiffly. While the prisoners were marched out from the slave market, guarded by over one-hundred guardsmen, Lamas and his two score men marched back to the Palace. As soon as he arrived, he ordered the sergeants to let their men rest and to await orders.

Outside the throne hall Lamas was met by Javila.

"Did you secure those soldiers?" she asked, before Lamas could utter one word.

He stared at her and she smiled. "Macro sent Thesia with a letter. Come now, Odar awaits you!"

When Lamas stepped into the throne hall he saw his father wearing full armour, the State Sword at his side and surrounded by the most important ministers.

"A glass of water for my son!" Odar ordered and he waited for Lamas to quench his thirst. "Fill us in, my son!"

Quickly, Lamas reported about the arrest of the mercenaries and his promise of lenience for them.

The King nodded. "What about the traitorous slavers?"

"They are swinging from the archways of their houses, my King," Lamas answered grimly. "We found weapons for the mercenaries in their slave holdings. They were part of the conspiracy."

"Shouldn't we have tried to question them?" Queen Elveen asked.

Lamas shrugged. "I doubt they knew much about the plot. I learned from the free companions that the Nobles plan to attack tonight."

Just then, a chamberlain announced, "The Commander Ronan asks for admittance!"

"Macro alerted the Academy. The cadets can guard the gates and the walls until the other troops arrive," Lamas explained.

Odar nodded. "Let him in!" he ordered.

When Ronan stepped in, the King stood.

"Welcome, trusted Ronan! You brought the cadets? I shall speak to them right away to light the fire of valour under their armour."

"No need, my King," Ronan laughed. "I had to keep them from rushing here too fast. But we found three slain men on the road, Clonal's men. I know the marks that Macro's sword leaves. They tried to stop him and he rode them down. The enemy has not surrounded the city yet but they may know that we came to the relief."

"Clonal's men attacked my son? I'll show them! Send a caravel to Beyreth and rouse the Duke! I want him here with his best troops. We'll smash those rascals once and for all. Elbar left the city?"

"Yes, my liege," one of the ministers said. "Neighbours say that Elbar argued loudly with his uncle, but he was rushed into a carriage with his daughter."

"No doubt, they're with the other rebels," the King grumbled.

"My father, Macro and I don't believe that Elbar is behind this. We think it is crazy old Botho."

"You are probably right, Lamas. Still, Elbar has Patris, and Patris is nigh on impregnable. The Old People built that place to withstand years of siege. Yes?"

The latter question was directed at Thesia who, standing behind Javila, had shyly raised her hand.

"Forgive me for interrupting, my King, but I think I read about the building of this place Patris in one of the oldest scrolls. Should I study it in more detail?"

"You know which scroll?" Javila asked and Thesia nodded.

"Lamas, escort the girl to your house to collect the scroll. Wait, take a dozen men and transfer all the books and scrolls to the palace. No need to risk that treasure."

Lamas nodded and beckoned Thesia to follow. Outside the throne hall Thesia pulled his sleeve.

"Do you think Macro is safe?" she whispered urgently.

Lamas saw the worry in her eyes, and he felt protective of the girl. "Don't worry too much. He's likely the best fighter in all of Tanitsar. He'll be back. Now, let's rush!"

Outside, Lamas commandeered a score of the Guards and a covered wagon. In a few minutes they arrived at the princes' residence, and Thesia oversaw the transfer of the precious contents of the libraries to the covered wagon. With twenty guardsmen attending to the task, it took only an hour, and they were on their way back to the Palace. On Javila's orders a room was cleared for Thesia and the young girl set to the task of learning more about their enemy's stronghold.

-------

Macro studied the terrain before him with great care. The ambush on the road to the academy had been a warning. Now that he was approaching the garrison of the Royal Archers another ambush was likely. Here on the open road he could not come upon any foe unexpectedly. The ford over the small river ahead was the most likely place where the enemy would try to intercept a messenger. There were enough bushes and underbrush to hide, and the ford was deep and stony, making the crossing slow.

Macro studied the river upstream of the ford. There was a place, just around a minor bend, where the river bed was wide enough to indicate shallow water. He spurred his charger into that direction.

When he approached the river he could see movement in the bushes at the ford. He smiled grimly and urged his horse on. At the river bank he slowed down, allowing his precious mount enough time to navigate the steep decline and another few seconds to drink. Hearing the sound of feet on the gravel of the river bed around the bend, he spurred his horse again. They splashed through the waist-high water and reached the other bank just when the first man came running around the bend, a crossbow at the ready. Macro heard the "Twang" of the crossbow, but he was already up the bank and hidden by the bushes lining the river.

Once clear of the river bank, he urged his mount on again for the final two miles. A few times he looked over his shoulder, but there was no pursuit. By the position of the sun Macro reckoned it to be late afternoon when he reached the gate of the garrison.

On his orders, a small troop of horsemen was sent to alert the Lancers, three miles to the West. While they waited for the Lancers to respond, Macro filled in the officers and gave a short speech to the men. As he had hoped, the men cheered him and rushed to make ready for the campaign.

The Lancers arrived only two hours later. Dusk was setting in, but the moon would soon rise and the two bodies of soldiers began their quick march through the night.

Edited by SpikeCO



-------

Chapter 8: King and Cadet


The afternoon had been busy for Lamas. Distributing the available soldiers, cadets and guardsmen to cover the most vulnerable parts of their defences had taken him hours. Fortunately, Ronan with his vast experience had helped, and the King had taken command of the main gate in person.

Now Lamas tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes. He had heard the clinking of steel on steel repeatedly and shadowy figures had run along the walls of Tanitsar. The traitors, if they were out there, were careful not to show any lights. Neither did the defenders give away their positions. The twenty guardsmen and twelve cadets that manned the Northern gate sat huddled together, trying to keep warm without the benefit of a fire.

At the Main Gate, King Odar kept his vigil. Although he began to feel his age at fifty-eight, he was still a strong and active man, and he looked impressive in the gleaming steel armour. He saw the awe-struck looks from the thirty cadets who reinforced the half-column of guardsmen under his command. Among them were two girls, young women really, one of them Ronan's own daughter.

Odar watched her idly in the weak light. She had grown up for sure since that evening when Ronan had brought her to the Palace. He seemed to remember that Macro had told him about her passing ritual, when Ronan had declared her his offspring and he hoped fervently that she, like the other young cadets, would live through this night.

It was getting close to dawn when a whistle sounded from below the gate, urgent and demanding, followed by a curse.

"Damn those mercenaries! We have to chance it. Move, you men, bring the ladders!"

Odar looked around. The guardsmen and the cadets rose slowly and silently and took position at the wall. A lantern was opened to shine a light to the street below. Another light answered. The second half-column of the Guards was alerted. Satisfied that all he could do now was fight, Odar silently picked up his unsheathed sword. He was ready. Already, things were turning to their advantage. The rebels had wasted hours waiting for the traitors and the mercenaries to open the gates from within, and Odar expected Macro with his re-enforcements any minute now.

Scraping noises from outside told the defenders that ladders were lain against the walls. In fact, Odar could see the tops of four or five ladders against the dark sky behind the battlements. The tops swayed as men were climbing up. Then the first head appeared above the battlements. As soon as the man gained a foothold on the wall, Odar cleaved his helmet with a mighty blow of his sword. He yanked the blade free and kicked the man back over the battlement. Another two men appeared and were quickly dispatched by the guardsmen.

"We're discovered!" somebody yelled outside.

Above the ensuing tumult, Odar heard the stentorian voice of old Botho of Clonal.

"Scale the wall, scale the wall! Up there! It's only three or four guards on those gates."

More men appeared over the battlements, and the engagement grew heated. On Odar's orders, the defenders kept a distance from the wall. There was the temptation to tilt the ladders, but that would expose them to the enemy archers who would doubtlessly scan the walls from below for the silhouettes of defenders.

With just seven or eight ladders, no more than eight men could scale at a time, not enough to pose a danger to the guardsmen and cadets; the latter just watching the struggle.

Suddenly, from their left, a group of over twenty attackers came running out of the darkness to attack their flank. They must have scaled the walls at another point. Two guardsmen were caught unaware and struck down before the defenders could confront the new attackers. Odar was in the front, wielding his razor-sharp sword with all the dexterity of a born fighter. More men came running from the left. Subconsciously, he became aware of a high-pitched voice giving commands.

It was hard work, but slowly the defenders gained the upper hand. The cadets had joined into the fray and helped to push the attackers back. More than half of the attackers were already down and Odar had just engaged his next enemy when, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement to his right. A huge old man wielding a battle axe rushed him, his mouth wide open.

"Die, Usurper!"

It was old Botho. Odar saw him but he was unable to turn to defend himself against the charge because the other enemy was still pressing him. Suddenly, young Anais stood between him and the rushing Botho, brandishing her javelin.

"Whelp of a foreign bitch, take this!" Botho screamed, his axe arching down at the girl's head.

The slender girl was too fast for the old warrior. With catlike agility, she glided to the left and evaded the axe, and when Botho was pulled forward by the momentum of his own blow, Anais dropped her javelin. In one fluid movement, as she had practised untold times, she unsheathed her sword, Macro's gift, and struck at the man's neck with all her speed. Momentum and the quality of the fine Nipom blade won over Botho's armour, and the sword severed his spine.

At the same time, Odar finished his opponent and he could take a look around. Firebrands had been lit. In their flicker he saw that a group of guardsmen were fighting off the last scalers and apart from that, there was no immediate danger. Three of his guards lay dead, two were wounded, but well over thirty attackers were dead too.

Odar inspected his old adversary Botho. There was no question as to his fate. Anais' sword had all but severed Botho's head from his neck. Odar looked up at the girl.

"A fine blow, Cadet, by the Gods! And right in time to save my own neck! Anais, daughter of Ronan, your service will not be forgotten. Did you lead the cadets into the fight?"

The girl nodded. "I beg your pardon, my King. It was not my station to do so."

"But it was the right thing to do! You have added honour to your father's name tonight. Now rest, all of you, and let us wait what the enemy is up to. With their leader dead I suppose there will be some confusion," he ended with a grim chuckle.

Odar watched Anais as she joined the ranks of the cadets again. What a cool-headed and brave girl! Odar was torn from his reverie by a messenger.

"My King! Compliments from the Prince Lamas. There was an attempt to scale the Northern Gate, but it was repelled with no loss of men on our side."

"Excellent! Tell the Prince we had to repel the enemy too. Tell him that the traitor Botho, Noble of Clonal, met his fate at the hand of Anais, Ronan's daughter."

The messenger ran off again. Odar sat on a stone bench to rest. He withstood the temptation to take off his helmet but he quaffed two large cups of water. There was another hour to dawn he guessed. He was curious how the insurgents would react to the death of their de facto leader, Botho. The nominal pretender, Elbar, had no military credentials.

For the next hour, Odar engaged in the difficult art of resting without getting sleepy. His old body ached for the comfort of a bed, but there was no way he would turn in with the insurgents literally before the gates.

Dawn was already breaking when Ronan made his appearance. He came under the guise of making his report in person, but his eyes searched anxiously for his daughter. The news that the young cadet had slain Botho of Clonal in hand-to-hand combat must have spread over the town already, and Ronan was suitably proud of his offspring. Odar excused him after just a few words after praising the girl once more. Ronan spent only a few moments speaking to his daughter, but obviously a lot was conveyed.

When the grey of dawn replaced the solid black of the moonless night, Odar stood and glanced quickly over the battlements, wary of showing himself for more than a few scant moments. The insurgents were still in place and there was bustling activity in what constituted a hastily erected camp. With grim satisfaction, Odar saw that they had not brought any siege equipment other than the handful of ladders that had proven so ineffective in the night. They must have relied on the mercenaries to open the gates from within.

Odar wondered if and when Macro could arrive with the reinforcements. It would be neat to catch the Nobles with the fortifications in their back. If Macro could bring the Lancers and the Archers, those two-thousand men would tilt the balance. Odar's only worry was the lack of a regular cavalry. That was his own mistake. He had allowed the Nobles to form the cavalry of Tanitsar, and now that cavalry was part of the rebellion.

The sounds of men getting to their feet made Odar look down from the wall and into the street. Two carts had appeared, and Odar recognised some of his own household servants. They had brought food. The question who had thought of that was answered when Odar saw Regula and Javila among the guardsmen, handing out bread and hot tea. He smiled at the sight.

The two queens appeared on the rampart over the gate a few minutes later, three servants with baskets in tow. Regula gasped when she saw Botho's almost headless body, perched against a battlement. She was related to him, a few times removed. Javila put her hand on Regula's shoulder.

"Better fallen in battle than hanged as a traitor," she said calmly.

Regula nodded. "He was a brave man, but he could not accept the change of times." She turned to Odar. "May I have him prepared for burial, Odar?"

Odar nodded. Botho had been a pain in the neck, but he had been an upright and brave opponent. No need to exact petty revenge beyond death.

Regula regarded Anais who was putting away a meat-filled bread loaf like a half-starved wolf.

"The irony! He always ridiculed the girls at the Academy. Now he died by a girl's hand."

"He was arrogant. He did not acknowledge her as opponent, and he paid the price," Odar smiled. "Having four wives taught me to regard women as worthy opponents."

Javila laughed brightly. "Look at him. One night on the ramparts, and he gets as cocky as a young troop leader."

"Watch out!" one of the sentries cried. "Archers!"

With his deeply ingrained presence of mind, Odar wrapped his big arms around his two wives and pressed them down, covering them both with his bulk. The swarm of arrows that came flying over the battlements found no upright targets. Most arrows bounced harmlessly against the walls of the houses next to the ramparts.

The guardsmen of the Queens' detail came running to bring their charges to safety before the next shower of arrows came flying.

"Keep a good lookout!" Odar yelled. "They may try something while we hunker down."

But nothing further of note happened, and after the fourth volley, the enemy archers stopped their ineffective attack. Then the lookout saw something else.

"My King! New troops arrive behind the traitors!"

In a flash, Odar was up. He thanked fate that his eyes were still good for seeing at a distance. Two large bodies of men were approaching. A grin spread over Odar's face. He could make out a forest of lances with the left body of men. Macro had succeeded to bring experienced field troops to the relief, and the rebels were caught between those fresh units and the walls of Tanitsar.

The enemy must have noticed the approaching loyal soldiers, for Odar could see the Noble Horsemen mounting their chargers. With their gayly coloured mantles and plumes, they looked like the fabled knights of old. From the rampart, Odar could hear their hooray as they galloped off towards the slowly approaching foot soldiers.

Odar shook his head. Whoever commanded the cavalry was a fool and knew nothing of tactics. With barely two-hundred horsemen against a thousand trained lancers, there could be no question about the outcome. As the riders charged uphill against Macro's troops, Odar saw how the Lancers formed three staggered lines and planted their lances. Behind them, the Archers positioned themselves in four lines.

When the riders were a mere three-hundred feet from Macro's lines, the Archers let go the first volley of bolts from their crossbows. Odar could see the black cloud of projectiles impact on horses and riders. Four or five riders fell, and then the second row of Archers shot their bolts, taking down another half dozen riders. When the third and fourth volley had been shot at diminishing distances, roughly one sixth of the riders had already fallen.

By now the horsemen were upon the lines of lances. Odar could see the terrible impact. Horses reared, riders fell, and the charge came to a violent halt. Then, the Lancers moved forward to surround the remaining horsemen. Odar could see a small group of perhaps eight or ten riders turning their horses in time to escape, but for all purposes of the rebellion, the Noble Horsemen ceased to exist under the thrusting lances.

Even from the great distance, Odar heard the cries of pain and desperation. The ensuing silence was even more unsettling. Odar asked himself who of the men who had dined in his hall just weeks ago were among the dead. The toll on Tanitsar's nobility was terrible already, and many families would be extinguished in their male lines after this day. Odar sighed heavily.

Now, the Lancers and Archers formed files again. Odar could see his son in his black tunic and black armour, sitting astride his black charger and directing the advance of his men. Below the ramparts the rebels formed a makeshift battle line. Elbar's tent was hastily disassembled and the pretender was hustled onto a horse. The remaining Noble Horsemen formed his escort, and then they rode off leaving the lesser nobles and their troops in the path of Macro's advancing soldiers.

Just out of arrow shot, Macro's men stopped and formed their lines again. Odar knew what would happen now.

"Hunker down, all of you!" he ordered, seeking cover behind a battlement. It would be the ultimate irony if he was wounded or killed by his own archers.

The thousand-fold 'twang' of the crossbows was followed seconds later by multiple cries of pain from under the rampart. Looking over the wall, Odar saw dozens of men down, some writhing in pain and some still. The sound of a thousand ratchets winding up the crossbows could be heard. But the second volley did not come. Macro stood in his stirrups and formed a speaking trumpet with his hands.

"Yield now!" he yelled. "Yield, or suffer death!"

One of the leaders of the rebels sprang to his feet.

"Never!" he yelled in defiance, but he was torn from his feet by the men near to him.

One of those men waved his arms and then threw away his sword.

"We yield! We entrust ourselves to your mercy!"

Odar felt great relief. A massacre of the hapless rebels was not what he wanted. He stood tall on the rampart over the Main Gate. The rebels cringed when his strong voice sounded.

"Those who yield, give up their arms and swear fealty to my house, their lives will be spared, and their families will be protected. But those who betray my mercy and raise their hands in rebellion again after to-day, their fate will be death, and their families will suffer in servitude forever!"

"Caught betwixt the King and the Black Prince as they are, they're getting off awfully cheap," one of the sergeants of the Guard grumbled.

'The Black Prince, ' Odar chuckled inwardly. 'A most impressive by-name.'

"They shall pay a price, Sergeant, never fear!" he addressed the guardsman. Then he shouted at the rebels again. "What say you, traitors?"

"We yield, and we swear fealty, Great King," the speaker shouted, kneeling instantly.

By far, the majority of the remaining rebels followed suit, but a small group, perhaps thirty men, stood in defiance. Odar recognised several of them. They were distant relatives of Botho and Elbar of Clonal. Odar sighed. He would have to find a solution to deal with these men.

°°°

It took over seven hours, until the early afternoon, to process the rebels. Odar had each of their leaders deliver his arms and swear fealty, and each oath was recorded by the scribes and then countersigned and sealed by the captive rebel.

Then, they were each sent on their way and ordered to remain in their homes until the state of war Odar had declared was over. The remaining defiant rebels were taken prisoner and confined to the citadel covering the harbour.

A very tired King, his wives, sons, and closest advisers met in the Council Hall of the Palace for a belated meal and for a discussion of the next steps. Out of consideration for his oldest son, Odar included the girl Thesia among those invited. To show his personal gratitude he also asked Cadet Anais to accompany her father.

The discussion at the table opened with a review of the events. When Odar related how Anais had felled Botho of Clonal, Macro could not help but give the girl an admiring smile to which Thesia creased her brow.

After the review, the discussion turned to the next steps to be taken. There was no question that Elbar had escaped to his stronghold Patris in the mountains to the West. It would be difficult in the extreme to apprehend him there. Patris had been built by the Old People four or five centuries ago, and not once had it been taken. If Elbar was in Patris, he was safe.

It was Macro who took a positive view.

"Elbar has never been the leader of the Nobles. He is a reluctant figurehead at best. Botho was a leader, but he's dead. I cannot see Elbar as a threat by himself. The problem we have to face are the people who were behind the rebellion. The slave traders were part of the conspiracy. Did anything come out of the interrogation of their men?"

Lamas nodded. He had spent the afternoon trying to extract information from two of the captured slave handlers. Under the threat of the noose they had named the conspirators that they knew of.

"It seems the mine owners provided the gold to buy weapons and the service of those mercenaries. That's what the slave handlers have confessed. It makes sense too. Many provisions in the Slave Act have hurt their power."

"Ungrateful churls!" Odar growled. "That will be dealt with presently. Their lease of the mines will be revoked."

"They still have a lot of wealth," Macro said judiciously. "Lithris for instance owns over three-hundred slaves. He can make a fine living just selling off his slaves, scarce as labour is on Tanitsar these days."

"What are you aiming at, Son?" Odar asked, tilting his head.

Macro took a deep breath. "You tried to balance the interests of those who live off the slaves' work and of those who abhor the cruelty of slavery. Yet, this appeasement did not work – the slave owners turned against you. On the other hand the merchants and craftsmen can't find enough workers and apprentices. Most can't afford slaves but they could pay a worker. I say, free the slaves now. Ban all slave trading. The only people you will hurt with this are your enemies already."

"I concur with the Prince," Petras, the Chief Envoy, said in his grave voice. "It is time to end this practise that alienates us from our neighbours. The revolt has been about slave owners' rights. Freeing the slaves now will put you in a favourable light with our neighbours, namely with Hanilei."

"Free the slaves, Odar," Regula said. "You can hurt your enemies and you can attain your noblest goal. If I know Macro he'll free them as soon as he succeeds you. But today is better. The weight of your wisdom and the proven might of Macro's sword will combine. Who can be against you today? The Nobles are beaten, the slave traders are dead or prisoners, and now the mine owners who are behind the rebellion must lose their wealth and their power."

Odar looked at Javila. She nodded. "Odar, you know my stance. But I will love you regardless of how you decide."

Odar thought it over for a moment, and his counsellors remained silent out of respect. In the end Odar sighed.

"So be it! Magister Procopius, have your daughter write up a Royal Decree. Henceforth, no man, woman, or child shall be owned by another person. Those who will trade in slaves shall suffer the gallows from this day on!" Odar smiled at Macro and Thesia. "All laws that exclude former slaves from any of the privileges that freemen enjoy, including the restrictions on marriage, are henceforth null and void."

There was silence in the council chamber as each of those present thought about the ramifications of that edict. But Odar was not finished.

"Another decree, Procopius. From this day hence, the rights of the Nobles to maintain armed followers of their own are revoked. There shall be only one army, the Royal Army, and noblemen and commoners can compete for leadership in my troops."

"What about the Duke, my Father?" Lamas asked. The Duke of Beyreth had a large body of men under his flag.

"His men are my troops as he is my High Constable," Odar responded. "Now, my sons and advisers, how shall we go about to make sure that my edicts are obeyed?"

The next two hours went by with discussions how to enforce the edicts. They decided that Macro would take his Archers to the mines, to take possession and to free the slaves. The Treasurer suggested to continue ore mining for the Crown and to hire the former slaves as miners for pay.

Macro demanded to make exceptions for those who had been enslaved for their crimes, notably the pirates. Lamas suggested to transport those together with the captured mercenaries, to get rid of them. Their power was broken anyway.

They discussed a variety of issues until deep into the night. At one point, Macro put his arm around a yawning Thesia who leaned into him gratefully. Looking up, Thesia saw Anais look at them with an expression of deep sadness. Thesia disengaged from Macro and approached the girl.

"I didn't have a chance yet to greet you, Anais. I heard of your valour, though, and Prince Macro speaks highly of you."

Anais blushed. "You are very kind, learned Thesia. I too have heard of you."

Thesia could see that tears were lurking in Anais' eyes. She took the hand of the tall young woman and steered her out of the hall, up a staircase and into her own makeshift study.

"You hurt, Anais. Is it because of me?" she asked softly.

Anais took a deep breath. She saw nothing but honest concern in Thesia's eyes.

"No, it just hurts when you realise that childish dreams cannot come true."

"I know that feeling, Anais. When I learned that Macro would become a Prince, my world crashed. Before that I thought that he might consider me as third or fourth wife. But a freed slave and a Prince? Never. Macro tried to comfort me, but I saw no way. That all changed when they learned of my mother's identity."

"You are meaning to say?" Anais asked haltingly.

"What we witnessed just two hours ago will change everything in Tanitsar. What seemed impossible this morning can happen after tonight. Take heart, Anais! Macro is a Prince and he will be expected to wed more than one wife."

Anais stared at Thesia. "Do my ears deceive me? Do you suggest that a Prince can take an interest in a freed slave?"

Thesia stepped close to the tall young woman. She had to look up at her face but she did not feel intimidated in her presence.

"I would not mind, Anais. I'm but a goldsmith's daughter when all is told. A noblewoman as co-wife would scare me to death," she confessed.

Anais swallowed heavily. She looked down into the green eyes of the small redhead. She saw friendliness in them and generosity. Finally, she smiled. "Not that I would have much say in it, but I would like to be your sister-wife."

Edited by SpikeCO



-------

Chapter 9: The Black Prince Strikes Back


It took a week for the Duke of Beyreth to arrive at the head of a strong force. Owing to the fact that they came over the sea in a small flotilla of ships they had no cavalry either, but the Duke's foot soldiers were famous for their steadfastness. Like the Royal Archers, his archers were also equipped with crossbows. In total, he brought almost three-thousand men.

Without further ado, he let his men march towards Patris, the ancient mountain stronghold in the very centre of Tanitsar Island. It had been built on top of a steep and rocky hill, two-hundred feet above the surrounding land, and it was thought to be impregnable. The Duke, prudent leader that he was, surrounded the stronghold to cut off its supply lines. Hunger is the most efficient ally in the siege of a fortress.

Thesia had found numerous references to Patris in the old scrolls, and they knew the layout of most of the fortifications. However, she had not found any hint at possible entry points.

The civil strife had been costly so far, with over four-hundred dead on the battle field around Tanitsar. In the North, things were also bad. News filtered through that local nobles had risen and committed massacres among the freed slaves in that district, enslaving the survivors and laying siege to three remaining loyal garrisons. There was no alternative but to send troops to suppress the uprising.

Macro took his loyal Archers and Lancers and marched north. Fifteen cadets from the Academy who had distinguished themselves during the defence of Tanitsar, Anais among them, filled the depleted ranks of the Lancers who had suffered some casualties in the reckless attack of the Noble Horsemen. By order of King Odar, Anais was carrying the colours of the second column of the Lancers, and she was very proud of the distinction. Macro saw her often, as she marched behind the column leader, with the black and yellow colours hanging from her lance.

It took almost a week to reach the Northern Territory. Of course, the rebels were warned of their arrival and they withdrew, lifting the siege on two of the garrisons. Macro was able to add the small garrisons to his army. He had informers too. From the freed slaves who had survived the massacres, he learned that the rebels had taken up a defensive position at a small river.

Together with a few of his officers, Macro reconnoitred the enemy's position. They had chosen to camp on the bank of the fast slowing River Terga, probably in the hope that the swift waters would preclude any attack from the rear. Macro noted the other side of the river was elevated, rocky terrain, and he saw his chance immediately. Three columns of the Archers were ordered to move upstream and find a ford to cross to the other side.

With the rest of his force, Macro closed in on the rebels. They had thrown up a breastwork with palisades to protect themselves against a frontal attack, but their rear, seemingly protected by the river, was not fortified. Therefore, when the Royal Archers who had crossed the river upstream had taken position in the rocky terrain on the other bank, their cross bow bolts began to rain upon the hapless rebels.

Macro could see the rebel soldiers try to find cover, but from their elevated position, the Archers still found their marks. He could see hectic preparations around the tents of the Nobles, and he knew what to expect. On his orders the Lancers formed a double battle line. Behind them, the remaining Archers positioned themselves. It was a tried tactic and the veteran soldiers of both troops had come to trust and rely on each other.

Under the constant barrage of crossbow bolts, the rebels hastily assembled under their colours and poured out of their protected camp. They could not, however, form regular lines while under the incessant hail of bolts, and they charged the lines of the Lancers without much order.

Even for a well-disciplined force of foot soldiers, lancers are hard to overcome, with the range advantage of their eight foot lances. The mob of charging soldiers, each arriving in their own time and without co-ordination, stood no chance. Before they even reached the line of lance points, their numbers were decimated by the volleys of crossbow bolts from the remaining Archers, and the surviving attackers could not even penetrate the first line of the loyal troops.

Suddenly, Macro saw movement on the left flank. A smaller force of the rebels had managed to outflank the Lancers there and attacked the Archers who were encumbered by their crossbows. Macro spurred his horse, and followed by his small detachment of Horse Guards, raced to aid his troops.

From the left centre of the Lancers, the rear line suddenly withdrew and formed a column, rushing to the left. Before Macro and his riders arrived, the half-column of Lancers had engaged the enemy and were driving them back. Macro could see that a number of his soldiers were down, and he rushed into the fray with abandon.

Fleetingly, he saw Anais in a fierce hand-to-hand combat with a Noble, but he was too busy to defend himself to render her aid. As soon as they saw him, the rebels concentrated their attack on him. That was a bad tactical decision, as it allowed the archers to regroup and fire volleys against the melting number of rebels.

For nearly ten minutes Macro was in the thick of action, striking, wheeling his horse, and striking again with his sword. The Horse Guards tried their best to shield their Prince but it was hot work for Macro nonetheless. Finally, the adversaries shrank back, leaving their dead and wounded, and tried to escape. They had no such luck. They were faced by another half-column of Lancers. Caught between the Horse Guards and the long lances, the rebels dropped their weapons.

The rest of the battlefield was quiet by now and Macro finally had the leisure to look after Anais. To his immense relief, he saw that the young woman was obviously unharmed. She was thoroughly exhausted, kneeling and rendering aid to a wounded Lancer. He rode up to her and dismounted.

"Are you harmed, Anais?" he asked.

It took the young woman a few moments to digest his words, and she shook her head.

"No, my Prince, just tired," she answered, a wry smile on her face.

"Did you lead your Lancers to the left flank?"

"Yes, my Prince."

She rose and bowed her head. In the heat of the battle, she had seen the commotion to the left. Noticing that the front line of her Lancer column easily withstood the charging enemy, she had her half-column turn and rush into the fray on the left flank. She was well aware, though, that she had acted against her orders and she expected a rebuke at the least.

Macro gave her a friendly smile, though. "I have to think what I will do with you. You disobeyed your orders, yet you did the right thing. Bring your wounded to the healers and rejoin your column. We'll talk later."

The victory was complete. The remainder of the rebels had yielded and they were disarmed and herded back into their camp. Four of the ringleaders had lost their lives in the fight, but two had survived. Macro had them bound against their protests. They would stand trial in Tanitsar for the massacres they had committed.

The lesser leaders and the common soldiers were given into the care of the garrison commanders who would find out who of them had committed murder or rape.

With his remaining troops, Macro marched to relieve the siege of the third garrison. When he arrived, the rebels had flown already and Macro was forced to follow them to a small fortress which was owned by one Eorl of Lonis, a distant cousin of Elbar of Clonal.

Macro was forced to lay siege to the fortress, but not for long. After three days, two men were brought before him who claimed they were escaped slaves of Eorl. They showed Macro a hidden sally port in the eastern rampart that was used by the soldiers to sneak out of the fortress.

For three nights Macro's men lay in wait until, shortly before dawn, the iron-clad door opened and a group of ten armed men tried to make an escape. A hail of crossbow bolts felled them and the sally port was rushed by a small group of Lancers, led by Anais who had volunteered for the task.

Once they owned the sally port, Macro's men poured into the fortress and most of the defenders were caught in their sleep. Eorl himself roused himself to fight but he died, his chest pierced by Anais' lance.

This ended the campaign in the North, and Macro left small garrisons behind to control the region and to enforce the new decrees. Macro's aide-de-camp, Edris, was appointed commander of the fortress of Eorl, and Macro appointed Anais to the vacant position at his side for the repeated bravery she had shown. He saw a great future for the young woman. She possessed an uncanny sense for tactics, and he wanted to take her further schooling into his own hands.

Thus it came that Anais was riding at his side when he led his troops South again, to join the siege army around Patris. Here, he found the Duke still besieging the ancient fortress. The Duke's men had surrounded the rebels for more than two months, and from what they had heard from two servants who made their escape early in the siege, Patris was running short of food already. The rebels had been so certain of their success that they had not stocked Patris for a long siege.

The Duke with his immense experience was in favour of starving the rebels until they surrendered. Too high were the ramparts of Patris; too strong the gates for any form of frontal assault. Patris sat on a hill, with steep, rocky flanks, and even the longest storm ladders did not reach up to the battlements.

Macro and his men joined the force led by the Duke, and Macro submitted himself to the command of his father's trusted High Constable. Not that there was much to do. Macro kept his men busy by securing the supply lines from Tanitsar to Patris.

Anais was around Macro all the time. As his aide-de-camp, she was present when Macro conferred with the Duke and the other officers. She heeded the old adage to keep her eyes open and her mouth shut. She saw to it that Macro's orders were recorded and passed on to the officers under his command. She also took care of his well-being, making sure he ate regularly. In short, she made Macro's life easier and he expressed his appreciation repeatedly.

It was seven weeks after Macro's return from the North when the arrival of soldiers from Tanitsar was announced. It was a detachment of Royal Guards and in their centre rode a small figure in an oversized Guard's cloak. Her reddish hair shimmered in the sunlight, and Macro could not suppress a happy grin.

He helped Thesia from the horse in person. In front of the grinning guards, he hugged and kissed the laughing young woman before her set her on the ground. Anais watched them with a crooked smile, but she brightened up when Thesia freed herself from Macro's grip and hugged the tall young cadet.

When the hubbub died, Macro tried to lead Thesia to his tent, but she refused.

"Macro, I need to pass on the information I brought. Would you show me to the Duke, please?"

"Of course. What information?"

"I may know how you can enter Patris!"

-------

It was a dismal supper and in every respect. Alana sat in the Great Hall of Patris, veiled as usual and surrounded by her followers.

'Followers, right!' she thought scornfully. They were more like her warders and she was at their mercy. Her father, Elbar of Clonal was not there anymore to protect her against the people who pretended to act in her interest. After the disastrous attack on Tanitsar which had all but wiped out the entire younger generation of nobles, the surviving Noble Horsemen had rushed Elbar to Patris. Elbar had never been much of a horseman and years of studying had left him in bad shape. The exertion, the cold, and the wet clothes all conspired to make Elbar sick, and he developed a hacking cough.

Three weeks later, and a week after the Duke of Beyreth surrounded Patris, Elbar of Clonal, the unwilling pretender to the throne, died. He was buried under the floor of the small temple and his deathbed wish to negotiate a surrender was roundly ignored.

The new strong man after Botho's death was Erin of Eglas, also a cousin of Botho and the former King Lorsa. He ruled over the fortress with an iron hand. Not that there were many to rule over. Twenty-two Noble Horsemen, fifteen elderly nobles, and a force of two-hundred soldiers was all of which he could boast. Yet he scorned any suggestion to enter into negotiations with the Duke.

Alana knew that her father's death had been a terrible blow to Erin. It robbed the Nobles of a legitimate pretender, but he soon dreamt up a new figurehead – Alana. She was the last scion of the House of Clonal and she would be Queen of Tanitsar, preferably with Erin's son Piso as husband and regent.

So far, Alana had been able to block any such advances, claiming that she was in mourning over her father. However, the month of mourning was over and Erin was beginning to exert pressure on her. They needed a new pretender and only Alana could justify Piso's claim to the throne by marrying him.

Piso himself was secretly fighting his father's ideas too. He was betrothed to a young noblewoman from Beyreth whom he loved dearly. Repeatedly stating that he would only marry a willing Alana he gave her some breathing space. Yet, Erin kept up the pressure.

That was not the only reason for the uneasy mood at the supper table. The fifteen people shared in four baked doves that had been shot inside the fortress. They had no food stores anymore, and the meal consisted of the birds, a few grains collected from the ramparts, and boiled nettles.

Everybody in Patris had gone hungry for over two months now, and Alana could not remember ever feeling this miserable and cold. Her dresses hung loosely around her shoulders, and she found it increasingly difficult to climb the narrow stairs to her sleeping chamber.

She pitied the servants who had to climb over two-hundred steps down into the rock foundation where they scooped fresh water from an underground water vein. It was the least favourable work in the fortress, for the lore of the place said that men and women had been taken away into the darkness by the fast-flowing water, never to be seen again.

She excused herself from the table and she could see that old Erin had trouble getting up, weak as he was. With an effort, Alana climbed the winding staircase from the Great Hall to the sleeping chambers above. Her bed was musty and smelly, for they were short of firewood and the old building was damp even in summer.

With the help of a servant Alana undressed. Her night dress was clean if damp, and she covered herself with her heavy cloak. Her starved body was constantly cold and she was grateful for the warmth of the garment.

She shook her head. For what was Erin waiting? Once Winter came, they would freeze to death if they did not starve first. His few men could not hope to make a successful sortie against the well fed troops of the Duke of Beyreth who outnumbered them by more than ten to one.

Two months ago, the numbers of the King's soldier had increased even more when the Black Prince arrived after smashing the followers of Clonal in the North. Alana had seen him repeatedly as he inspected his troops, always followed by that tall, black-haired woman in soldier's armour. That had to be Anais, Ronan's daughter, who had slain Uncle Botho on the walls of Tanitsar.

Three days ago another troop of soldiers joined the siege. To her surprise Alana had seen Thesia with them. What filled her with worry was the fact that Thesia was led to the Duke's tent immediately. She obviously had not come to visit Macro, there had to be another reason. Alana respected, even liked the small young woman. In a different, a better world, Thesia would have been her friend.

Macro too was one of the people she would have liked as her friend. He had been so nice to her, had even complimented her, and she had lain in bed many a night thinking of him. The hunger kept her awake for a long time, but around midnight she finally fell into a troubled sleep.

At first, Alana thought she was still dreaming. Shouts and shrieks could be heard from the Hall and from the hallways. She sat up. Was the fortress under attack?

With a terrible crash the door to Alana's bedchamber burst open. Three soldiers in black armour stood in the door. One of them held a burning torch and Alana recognised the feared Anais. Alana rose slowly and faced the intruders. How had they scaled the walls of Patris? How had they broken the gates? A small voice inside her head welcomed the soldiers. They would kill her and end the whole misery of her friendless and joyless life. There was a fear too for Alana knew what victorious soldiers did to female captives.

"Are you the Noble Alana?" Anais asked, slightly out of breath. Alana could see blood splattered over her armour.

"Yes, I am, daughter of Ronan. I will not beg for my life, but as a woman to a woman, I ask you to spare me the rape and to let me die pure."

Anais looked puzzled for a moment but then her face cleared. Under the face plate of her helmet Alana could see Anais' mouth smiling.

"Fear not, Noble Alana. Prince Macro himself charged me with your safety and well-being."

"Kill me right here, Anais, and spare me the humiliation of the servitude that awaits me."

"Trust me, Noble Alana. You will be treated with all the dignity you deserve. Come now!"

Anais stepped forward and Alana saw no choice than to let the Amazon lead her away by the arm. Outside the chamber more soldiers waited to escort them downstairs. Alana saw slain men in the hallways and more of them in the courtyard when they stepped from the building. There was Macro too.

"Noble Alana, I am overjoyed to see you alive and unharmed. We haven't found your father yet and we worry. Do you know where he might be?"

"Elbar of Clonal died three months ago. The flight to Patris killed him."

Macro shook his head. "The King will be saddened. Your father was a good man and he will be missed." He turned to Anais. "Bring her out to my tent and let Thesia look after her. She'll know what to do."

Anais nodded. "Follow me!" she said curtly, leading the way.

Alana tried her best to follow but her legs could hardly keep her up on the downward slope. Once or twice she stumbled and almost fell before Anais noticed.

"Have you problems?"

"My legs cramp," Alana replied. "I haven't eaten properly in two months."

Anais was contrite. "Forgive me, Noble Alana. I didn't know that it was so bad. Here, lean on me. I'll help you down."

With Anais' help, Alana was able to navigate the remainder of the descent. There was a large camp at the foot of the hill and a sentry challenged them.

"Aide-de-camp Anais, with the Noble Alana."

"The ugly one?" the soldier chortled.

"Mind your manners or you'll answer to the Prince tomorrow!" Anais snapped hotly.

Leading Alana along a row of tents, she murmured angrily under her breath. They stopped at a large domed tent that was guarded by three soldiers of the Royal Guard.

Anais nodded at the sentries, and they nodded back. Alana realised that this young woman must be well connected if she was known on sight by the Royal Guards. Then the light of several oil lamps pierced her eyes and she blinked.

When her eyes worked again, she looked into the worried face of Thesia. A second later Alana found herself in the young woman's comforting embrace. How good that felt! With Anais' help, Thesia steered the tottering Alana to a comfortable, fur-covered recliner. Alana felt dizzy and closed her eyes. The dizziness increased until the tent spun around her and her vision went black.

She awoke to a heavenly smell. A bowl of rich, spicy chicken soup was held under her nose. The aroma almost made her faint again but a strong hand lifted her head up and she felt the bowl at her lips. The soup was warm, but not hot, and Alana drank the rich fluid with long, thirsty gulps. Strength flowed through her limbs immediately and she looked up in surprise.

"My mother taught me a little of her healing magic," Thesia smiled. "It's a simple strengthening potion which I stirred into the soup. Do you think you can sit at the table?"

Alana nodded wordlessly but her look at Thesia conveyed her gratitude. Anais was gone it seemed. Thesia read her look.

"Anais had to return to Macro's side. I'll take care of you until we'll return to Tanitsar."

Alana was morose again. "What will happen to me? Please, they will not march me through the streets as a prisoner, naked and bound?"

Thesia was appalled. "How can you think that? Nobody will touch a hair on your head, I swear it! The King himself ordered to bring you safely to the palace. We know already that you were taken away against your will. King Odar also ordered that your father should not be hurt, by peril of death."

"How did his troops get into Patris?" Alana inquired, suddenly remembering the unthinkable feat.

Thesia blushed. "That was my doing," she admitted. "There is that tale, in the old writings, that servants who went down into the mountain for water were taken away and never returned."

Alana nodded. "That's what the servants are told, to be careful in the swift water of the underground river."

"Yes, but there is one tale of a slave girl, Lovana by name, who was swept away by the river. She was from the Thousand Islands, a pearl diver. She wanted to escape and she let herself be taken by the river. She swam with the current and after just a few moments she surfaced in a domed cave, and from there the river took her out of the hill and into a beautiful meadow. Here, she came upon a priestess of the Tanitsar Temple. They tied the knot and Luvana joined the Temple."

"Tied the knot?"

"The Priestesses of the Tanitsar Temple were not allowed to give themselves to men, but they were not denied the pleasures of the flesh either."

"Oh!" Alana said blushing hotly. "So, you found the exit of the underground river?"

"Yes, three days ago. The water was low in the cave because of the dryness, and it was less than a forty feet dive from the domed cave to the cave under Patris. One hundred soldiers under Anais' command penetrated the fortress and made their way to the gates to open them. You know the rest."

"Anais seems to be so young. How did she advance so fast in the army?"

"She was a cadet in the Academy, but she ... played a crucial role in the defence against your uncle's forces."

"She was the one who killed him. I know that already."

"Yes, but I heard she had no choice. He was coming for her with a battle-axe. Anyway, after that she joined the Lancers for the campaign in the North. Again, she proved herself repeatedly and Macro made her his aide-de-camp."

Alana shook her head and shuddered. "Knowing who she was, I thought she came to kill me to extinguish the House of Clonal."

Thesia shook her head. "I don't think she'd be able to kill a defenceless person. Ah, here is your breakfast."

Indeed, a servant came with a tray of food. Oatmeal and dried fruits had been cooked in milk. Alana looked at it with suspicion.

"Trust me," Thesia told her. "You need special food. You starved for too long to eat normal food yet. This is only a small helping. Your stomach has to learn to digest food again. You'll get more in an hour or two."

Alana tried the strange mixture. It was sweet and fruity and didn't taste bad at all. She felt better after eating it. A cup of tea was also placed before her and she sipped the hot drink with relish, feeling the warmth flow through her body. Suddenly, she remembered something.

"What will happen to the men and women in Patris?"

Thesia looked at her. "Those who were caught alive will be brought into Tanitsar to stand trial. Your so-called followers committed atrocities in the first days of their uprising and King Odar is still very angry." Alana hung her head hearing this. Thesia kept talking. "You should know the changes, Alana. Royal Decrees were issued in the wake of the attack on Tanitsar. One outlaws slavery in its entirety and removed all restrictions formerly imposed on slaves or emancipated slaves. The other revoked the privileges of the nobility – their armed guards must be disbanded."

"There isn't much left of them, anyway," Alana sighed.

Just then, steps could be heard outside and a moment later Macro strode through the entrance of the tent, Anais right behind him.

"Patris is secure," he announced. Turning to Alana, he continued. "You will be relieved to hear that we took the fortress with only a small loss of lives on either side. The defenders were too weak to offer much of a fight."

Alana nodded and collected her courage. "My Prince, Piso, the son of Erin, was only there at Patris on orders from his father. He was not part of the uprising until after the fight at Tanitsar. May I beg you for mercy for him? He has a bride on Beyreth and he never wanted to marry me."

"I know Piso from the Academy," Macro said. "He is a good man. It is his father's attitude that we need to correct. Trust me, Alana. I am as sick of this bloodshed as anybody. Now, how do you feel? Did Thesia's magic work on you?

"Her potion filled me with strength again."

"Good. We need to return to Tanitsar. I know, it will take weeks for you to recuperate. Unfortunately, time is pressing. Do you think you can keep the saddle for a few hours?"

"It's too early for her, my Prince!"

Alana looked up in surprise. It was Anais who had spoken up in her defence.

"I know, Anais. I need to return though and I will not run the risk of leaving her behind. Will you try, Alana? We'll stop when you'll feel tired. Thesia's carriage is waiting in Lemno, just across the mountains. We could be there by early afternoon. You can stay in the carriage for the rest of the journey and Thesia can pamper you to her heart's content."

Alana sat up and straightened her back. She was of royal blood, and she should not wallow in her weakness.

"I shall give it my best try." She smirked involuntarily. "I don't think I can ride a trot, though."

"No, that would be too hard on you," Macro said. "We can set out at a comfortable pace, and we'll rest frequently."

"Umh, Prince Macro, all I'm wearing is a nightshirt and my cloak."

Macro looked at her perplexed, but then a smile broke out on his face.

"Of course, you need to dress for travelling. Forgive me. Anais, did you bring the clothes for Alana?"

"Of course. I'm sorry, Noble Alana. I forgot to tell you. We collected your belongings from your chamber. I'll have them brought in."

"And I'll leave you alone so that you may dress in private. When you are finished, we shall have a breakfast and then we will be on our way. Thesia, do you think she could have a little of your potion again?"

"Only when the first dose wears off," Thesia responded. "Too much will mask her exhaustion. I'll carry it along and I will look after her."

"Thank you, my dearest! Now, if you'll excuse me, I will go and speak to the Duke while you Ladies will dress."

Edited by SpikeCO



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Chapter 10: A Council


The new Council Hall in the Royal Palace was much better suited for discussions, Macro found. King Odar had re-dedicated one of the rarely used audience rooms. There was no throne, just a large horseshoe-shaped table that could easily seat thirty people. King Odar sat in an upholstered chair at the apex, and his closest advisers had seats to his left and right.

The Queens, starting with Regula, flanked him to the left side, whilst the Princes sat to his right. The Royal Ministers sat next to the Princes and a few select people sat next to the Queens. Most of those were military commanders and other officials.

The King spoke up without much ado. He remained seated, and he spoke in a matter-of-fact way.

"My loyal friends, I have convened you today to discuss with you the process of rebuilding Tanitsar after the ravages of the last months. Before we begin with plans for the future, we have to deal with the recent past.

"In the recent fighting a large number of people on both sides perished. Among the dead I mourn the loss of Elbar of Clonal. Regardless of what most of his followers saw in him, I considered him a friend. His death leaves us the poorer.

"Botho of Clonal was my adversary for most of thirty years. Yet, he was open in his beliefs and I respected him as an adversary. So were others who rose against me and died for their beliefs. All those who perished I mourn, especially those I had to fell with my own hand.

"Many loyal soldiers and servants deserve the gratitude of my house. I name my old comrade, the Duke. I name Commander Ronan and I name the soldiers of my Guard. I also want to express the pride I feel for the young cadets of the Academy who joined our ranks so bravely and cheerfully. Their steadfastness and good discipline are a wonderful promise for our future. Among those cadets, one stood out. During the entire campaign against the rebels she proved herself time and again. Cup Bearer, show in Anais, Daughter of Ronan!"

Ronan was beaming with pride while the cup bearer led in Anais, back in her cadet uniform. She walked into the centre of the horseshoe table and stood with her head bowed.

"Anais, Daughter of Ronan, I find you worthy of distinction for your bravery and dedication to your duties. There will be no final exam at the Academy this year. You all had your final exam on the battle field and you passed with the highest honours. For your outstanding service, you, Anais, will join the Second Column of the Guards as Column Vice-Leader. Lamas!"

Lamas stood and presented Anais with a black bundle.

"Take this uniform from me, Anais. As Commander of the Royal Guard, I welcome you!"

Anais bravely fought the tears of pride and she swallowed a few times before she was able to respond in the prescribed form.

"I thank you, my King, for this high honour. I am ready to give my life for you and your family!"

Odar smiled benevolently. He picked up a large, heavy pouch and placed it on the table before him. It sounded distinctly like gold coins.

"Take this, Anais, and distribute it among all the cadets who fought at my side on Tanitsar's walls!"

Anais bowed. "I thank you, my King!"

The cup bearer then led her from the room whilst the men and women of the council congratulated Ronan. Next, the King cleared his throat and his council fell silent.

"Let us talk about the future now. We need to settle the issue of rivalling pretenders. There is but one scion of Clonal left, the Noble Alana. Whoever will marry her may claim the throne for himself and his children, and there are still many followers, secret and open, who will hold Alana for the rightful heir to the throne.

"I already said that I considered Elbar a friend. We had discussed this problem in private, and in private we had reached a conclusion that would have satisfied both sides. Unfortunately, old Botho did not see the wisdom behind our agreement and this set off the uprising.

"A resolution can still be reached, though. Macro, my son, I ask you to accept the Noble Alana as your wife in marriage, to merge the Houses of Odar and Clonal and to bring peace to the lands."

Before Macro could respond, Regula spoke up. "Macro is promised to Thesia, whom we have all come to respect and admire, and who has worked tirelessly to support us."

Odar nodded. "It would seem unfair to Thesia to be Second Wife behind Alana who, at least in name, was part of the rebellion. Yet, I can already hear the outcry of Clonal's followers if the daughter of Elbar had to cede the distinction of First Wife to a 'slave girl', as they would call Thesia."

Lamas raised his hand. "Before the rebellion there would have been no question that Alana could claim the primacy over Thesia. But the rebellion happened and we cannot give the impression that we reward the House of Clonal. After all, Eorl was a cousin of Elbar, and he murdered almost a hundred freed slaves in his rampage in the North."

"Macro, my son, what do you say?" the King asked.

"What Queen Regula and my brother said all has merit. I am promised to Thesia. I believe firmly that she would accept to be my Second Wife because she is intelligent enough to see the benefits for the realm. I also state freely that I feel respect for the Noble Alana. I believe that I can grow to care for her with time. There are two points, however that I want to raise. The first one is in keeping with what my brother Lamas said. Alana was a figurehead of the rebellion, even if unwillingly. My First Wife will be the one I trust the most and I already trust Thesia completely. I cannot know yet whether I will ever trust Alana that much. But the second point is more important. Thesia is the one I love. Before I shall make her yield to another woman I shall renounce my claim of succession and serve my brother Lamas faithfully for the rest of my life."

There was complete silence in the Council Hall. King Odar smiled at his son. "What about the angry outcry of Clonal's followers?"

"I don't care about them. I can accept Alana as my Second Wife and I shall honour her with words and deeds. We must make it known however that things in Tanitsar have changed. The old privileges of the nobility are void and what better a way to make that point than to place Thesia before the scion of Clonal?"

"This is the path you choose, my son?" Odar asked.

"Yes, my Father and King. Mind you though that you have another son who is no less deserving of your heritage."

Lamas stood again. "I fully support my brother's choice. I cannot accept Alana as my First Wife either for I have already found a bride who will rule supreme in my heart."

"What? Won't any of my sons ask me before they pick their First Wives?" Odar expostulated. "Whom did you choose then, Lamas?"

Lamas bowed to Procopius. "If it please the Magister Procopius, I speak for his daughter, Jolia."

For the first time in recent memory Procopius was unable to answer in the measured sentences they were accustomed to. He sputtered, unable to find the words he wanted to say.

"Magister," Macro laughed, "just say, 'I consent'! I say that neither of them can find a better spouse and I shall be happy to call Jolia my sister."

Finally, Procopius found his voice. "Have you spoken to her?" he asked Lamas.

"Yes, I have," Lamas answered calmly. "I am to tell you that, should you refuse, she will petition the King for emancipation from her father. She says there is a precedent from the time of King Albar."

"Alboar," Procopius corrected absentmindedly. "You have my blessing, Prince Lamas. I curse you though – may your house be filled with books of law!"

The room exploded with good-natured laughter while Macro and Lamas hugged.

"With the Princes in collusion over this matter, I am forced to accept Prince Macro's decision," Odar finally said when the laughter had died down. "Thesia and Alana will appear before me later and I will announce the decision.

"The next point we need to settle urgently is the question of the former slaves from Hanilei. The agreement with the Elderman stipulated that they would be returned to Hanilei against a compensation for their owners. This no longer applies because we abolished slavery. As a sign of goodwill I want them conveyed back to Hanilei. I also want them accompanied by a representative of my house, to open talks with the Eldermen of Hanilei about a number of issues. We need to reorganise the ore trade since the mines are no longer operated by the traitorous mine owners. This is a weighty issue and I want my son Macro to make the journey. After his weddings, of course. I think his wives will appreciate the experience."

Macro smiled. This would be nice, especially for Thesia. She could see her family again. He was not too sure about Alana but that could not be helped.

"I shall perform this service gladly," he said to an amused chuckle from the King.

After that the discussion turned to other issues. The Royal Army needed reform and reorganisation in the wake of the civil strife. A cavalry had to be formed from loyal soldiers to replace the Noble Horsemen.

Javila suggested the founding of a Civil Academy to complement the Military Academy, for the education of future civil servants, engineers, healers, and merchants. That led to an animated discussion of the goals of education in a new Tanitsar.

Other suggestions were discussed and it was already late afternoon when Odar called a stop to the deliberations, claiming hunger and fatigue. While most of the advisers left the palace for their homes, Odar's family repaired to the private dinner room of the King. Thesia and Alana were summoned too. It was the first time that Alana faced King Odar after the fighting and she was wearing her veil again.

"You are in my private rooms, Alana," Odar said in a friendly voice. "Take off your veil!"

Alana was cowed enough to follow that order. Silently she sat while Odar studied her face.

"What's that nonsense about your face being disfigured?" he said gruffly and Alana flinched. "From now on you will show your face. It's just a few scratches on your cheek. Disfigurement is different."

"As it pleases you, my King," Alana answered, her head bowed and her voice barely audible.

"It pleases me to see a pretty girl!" Odar replied. "I have news for both of you. We have discussed the options for you, Alana. We do not want you to be used for the ambition of others again. Therefore my son Macro has agreed to accept you as his Second Wife. The wedding will be held in three days, right after Macro's wedding with Thesia."

"My King!" Thesia exclaimed. "Surely the Noble Alana..."

"The Crown Council debated the options and it was decided that Thesia, Lutar's daughter, will be First Wife to Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar," Odar said with finality. He looked at Alana. "Do you object, Alana?"

With the deep blush, the criss-cross of fine scars on Alana's cheek was evident. "I have no objections. I thank the Prince for his consideration. I shall be a good wife to him and a sister to Thesia. If the Prince feels uncomfortable with me though, I offer to go into exile or to confine myself to whatever accommodation you see fit."

"The accommodation I see fit for you, Alana, are my private rooms," Macro said, looking at Alana. "Now sit and eat! We cannot have people say that I starve my wife!"

"Will we be married on the same day?" Thesia asked.

"Within the same hour," Odar confirmed. "The joint wedding will symbolise the new Tanitsar where the daughter of a craftsman and the offspring of kings can be sisters. You will both prepare for travel too. You will accompany Prince Macro on a visit to Hanilei."

Impulsively Thesia jumped up and wrapped her arms around Macro's neck. Their kiss lasted for a minute or more. Then she let go of Macro and approached the King.

"Will you allow me to hug you, King Odar?" she asked.

It was funny how the mighty ruler cast a glance at his wives. Only when Regula and Javila gave him a smile did he open his arms for his future daughter in law. He was quite flustered when Thesia kissed him, and all four queens giggled audibly.

Edited by Erik



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Chapter 11: A Royal Wedding


"Do you, Macro, of the House of Odar, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, take the here present Thesia, daughter of Lutar, as your First Wife? Will you honour her with words and deeds, will you protect her with your body, and will you accept her children as yours?"

"I do and I shall!" Macro answered with a clear voice.

He felt Thesia's hand on his arm. She trembled.

The Master of Ceremonies continued. "Do you, Thesia, daughter of Lutar, join Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, in marriage out of your free will? Will you honour him with words and deeds, will you care for his needs and comfort him in times of illness and hurt?"

"I do and I shall!" Thesia blurted, eager to formalise the joining.

"May fate smile on you and your union. May illness and death shy away from your house, and may your union bear multiple fruit for the glory of Tanitsar!"

This ended the ceremony and Thesia threw herself into Macro's arms. He felt her tremble all over, yet her green eyes shone like the most beautiful emeralds as she looked up at him. The kiss lasted far longer than was customary and the bride had to hold on to Macro's arm when he released her.

'Tonight!' she mouthed her promise, and a chuckle broke out among the guests, causing Thesia to both blush and grin.

"Ha-hrm!" the Master of Ceremonies uttered and the newlyweds returned to the present. "Alana, daughter of Elbar, step forward!"

Macro and Thesia parted hands, and when Alana joined them each of them took one of Alana's hands. They were cold and Alana fidgeted, aware that all eyes in the Wedding Hall were looking at her unveiled face.

"Ha-hrm! Do you, Macro, of the House of Odar, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, take the here present Alana, daughter of Elbar of Clonal, as your Second Wife? Will you honour her with words and deeds, will you protect her with your body, and will you accept her children as yours?"

"I do and I shall!" Macro answered, with no less conviction than he had displayed before.

"Do you, Thesia, First Wife of Prince Macro, accept Alana, daughter of Elbar, as Second Wife in your house? Will you respect her, accept her as your sister-wife, will you care for her in illness, and will you accept her children as your own?"

"I do and I shall," Thesia replied pressing Alana's hand.

"Do you, Alana, daughter of Elbar, from the House of Clonal, join Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, in marriage out of your free will? Will you honour him with words and deeds, will you care for his needs and comfort him in time of illness and hurt?"

"I do and I shall." Alana answered shyly.

"Will you respect Thesia, First Wife of Prince Macro, and accept her as your sister-wife, will you care for her in illness, and will you treat her children as your own?"

"I shall!" This time, Alana's voice was stronger.

"May fate smile on you and your union. May illness and death shy away from your house, and may your union bear multiple fruit for the glory of Tanitsar!"

Alana was very apprehensive when Macro closed his arms around her. Her lips were trembling when he kissed her but after a second or two a shudder ran through her body, and her lips became soft and yielding. She was bright pink when the kiss ended.

Now Thesia gave her a hug and here Alana had no hesitation. She hugged her sister-wife with feeling, and they shared a kiss.

King Odar stepped to the front and held out both hands. Thesia and Alana took the proffered hands, standing to either side of him.

"I welcome you, my daughters! May it be known in all of Tanitsar that Princess Thesia and Princess Alana are henceforth to be treated as members of my House and that their children will be of my line." He grinned at the guests. "I say that my son is a lucky man!"

After the joining ceremony, the extended family and their closest friends with a number of high officers of the state came together for a celebratory meal in the Great Hall of the Palace. Here they received good wishes and gifts.

Around mid-afternoon, the traditional break of craftsmen and merchants, Macro and his wives, shielded by a half-column of the Guards, showed themselves in the market place. This was almost torture for Alana. However, Javila and Regula had done a remarkable job on her cheek, using the best make-up available, and her scars were not visible to anybody farther away than three feet.

Free wine was offered to the people in the market place and the chorus of toasts to the Prince and his new wives was almost deafening. If the reaction from the people of Tanitsar was any indication, Macro enjoyed considerable popularity among the citizenry.

When they made their way back to the palace, shielded again by the Guards, they could overhear loud comments from the crowd.

"What's that nonsense about her being disfigured? She's a beauty, damn it!"

"Damn right! Why did her father hide her away under veils?"

Alana blushed pink hearing this, but she smiled shyly and Macro felt her hand press into his arm, holding him close. He smiled inwardly. He had hired those two men, actors from a small troupe from abroad, and the remarks indeed seemed to bolster Alana's confidence as they walked home to the Princes' Palace.

Here they were received by the staff. The former household slaves were all free now, but their majority had elected to remain in the Princes' service. Tamar and Ella, Macro's former handmaids, had consented to perform a last servive for Macro. Thesia had not forgotten how the two young women had mothered her in the first days after Macro brought her to his home, and she gave them hugs.

They settled into the wing that had been used by Javila. Now that Macro was married, the brothers had divided up the house and Lamas had kept his and Macro's old rooms.

Alana's possessions had been brought from Elbar's palace, allowing her full use of her wardrobe. She was surprised and flustered when she noticed that she had no bedroom of her own, just a dressing room without a bed.

"Where do you want me to sleep?" she asked timidly, fully expecting to be relegated to some upstairs servant quarters.

"In the bedroom," Macro answered. "Where else?"

"But you and Thesia ... don't you want to be alone?"

"It's a big bedroom," Macro said dismissively.

Together with Thesia he steered Alana into a truly huge bedroom. Alana saw a bed that could easily sleep five or six persons, and there were two smaller beds to the side. A panel door in a corner was open and Alana thought she saw traces of steam emanating from the opening.

"Aah! I think the bath is ready!" Macro exclaimed. "Let us relax and get clean."

With quick, precise movements, Macro took off his black tunic and his black trousers. He was almost naked when he looked at the two young women.

"What are you waiting for? Get undressed!"

Hesitantly, Thesia obeyed and opened the buttons along the shoulder of her dress. The heavy silk dress flowed down her body and formed a soft, sea green puddle around her feet. Alana stared at the small woman who was naked but for a loin cloth.

"Do you need help, Alana?" Macro asked, waking Alana from her daze.

"N ... no! I don't ... I don't think I should, should I?"

"Should what?"

"Join you in a bath. I know how much Thesia was looking forward to this day and she needs time alone with you. I am sure the time will come for you to claim me, and I will patiently wait my turn."

"Your turn is tonight," Macro answered. "Now get out of this dress and come with us!"

Faced with a direct order, Alana complied. Blushing again, she opened the shoulder buttons of her own silk dress and let it drop at her feet. Like Thesia, she wore nothing but a loin cloth. Macro took first Thesia's and then Alana's hand and led them to the panel door.

A wooden spiral staircase led into the basement underneath the bedroom. A large basin had been built above the stone floor, and it could be heated from below. The steam from the hot water smelled of pine needles and mint.

Ella and Tamar were waiting for them. While Ella helped Thesia out of her loin cloth and into the hot bath, Tamar was doing the honours for Alana. Macro was already waiting in the heated basin when his wives cautiously stepped into the almost hot water. Of course, Thesia was no stranger to the hot baths. Javila had been generous, allowing the women and girls of the household to partake of the bath chamber. She was flustered, however, over being naked in front of Macro.

For Alana, the situation was even more uncomfortable. Never had she been naked in front of other adults. Even in her youth she was always attended by slave girls her own age. To be naked in front of Thesia flustered her, but to be naked in front of Macro terrified her. With one arm over her breasts and the other hand covering her pubes, she tried to climb into the basin. The tiles at the bottom were slippery, though, and Alana reached out to avoid a fall, thus exposing herself to Macro's eyes.

Macro quickly stood and held her hand, helping her to sit in the basin. Alana blushed beet red. Not only was she naked, but Macro was naked as well, his manhood jutting out proudly from a dense growth of dark blonde hair. Alana could not take her eyes off him once she had seen her first penis ever.

Likewise, Thesia stared at Macro's exposed member. Unlike Alana, she felt desire wash over her. She would feel this penis tonight. Macro would break her maidenhood with this formidable appendage.

Then Macro was sitting in the basin between Thesia and Alana, his arms draped over each of his wives' shoulders. Thesia moved closer, allowing the arm to close around her until the hand caressed the side of her right breast. She gasped at the feel of his hand and moved even closer.

Alana sat stiffly by contrast, not daring to move away or to move closer. She was deeply conflicted. She knew it was her duty as Macro's wife to submit to his desires, yet she did not want to come between him and Thesia. Thesia was her friend, probably her only friend alive. Truth be told, she was Alana's first friend ever.

The youth of the pretender's daughter had been spent with slave servants and relatives who never tired to tell her of her importance and her future role. She was never allowed to play with other children. Instead she had to learn, had to help her father with his efforts to unravel the Old Language. The accident that left her burnt had further aggravated her solitude. The hours she had spent with Thesia prior to the rebellion had been Alana's first exposure to another young woman of any consequence, and she had cherished those hours. Alana was determined not to intrude on Thesia's position lest her only friend would turn against her in jealousy.

However, Macro's arm around her shoulder felt reassuring too. Neither with word or gesture had he given the impression that the marriage with Alana was a political move. His kiss during the wedding had conveyed tenderness and desire, and it had left poor, innocent Alana breathless.

A low moan let Alana look to her right. Macro and Thesia were kissing. Alana saw how Thesia had draped herself against Macro's body, and she saw his sunburnt hand on the skin of Thesia's milky-white breast. Alana wanted to look away, but her eyes were glued to Thesia's breasts. They were not overly big, but formed as perfect half-globes, tipped by small, pink nipples.

Alana squealed in surprise when she felt hands on her naked legs. Tamar was sitting at her feet, stroking Alana's calves. She looked her question at the young servant.

"Relax, my Princess. It is a massage, only a massage," Tamar soothed her.

Indeed, the stroking of her calves and feet was feeling heavenly, especially when Tamar began to knead the soles of Alana's feet. In the relaxation she felt, Alana leant back against Macro. She heard Thesia giggle softly and whisper something into Macro's ear, but she was too lazy to care. Then she was able to overhear the whisper.

"Kiss her, kiss Alana!"

Before she could protest, Alana felt Macro's hand on her chin, lifting her mouth to his lips. He began the kiss softly, just tasting and nibbling her lips. In her relaxed state Alana welcomed the intimacy, and after a few moments of hesitation she kissed him back. As soon as her lips opened, she felt Macro's tongue slipping into her mouth, finding her tongue and wrestling with it. She felt heady, yet more alive than ever as the invasion of her mouth went on.

When his left hand, which had been behind her back, reached around her torso and cupped her left breast she gasped into his mouth. Somewhere in her head her worries and apprehensions melted away like butter in the sun. She felt right, with her mouth locked with Macro's and his hand gently playing with her tit.

She barely registered it when her right tit was touched by a small hand. She opened her eyes lazily and found her suspicion confirmed. It was Thesia who played with Alana's breast, her head on Macro's chest and watching the kiss between Macro and Alana. On Thesia's other side, Ella was pressed against the redhead's back, fondling her small-tipped breasts from behind.

Then Macro released Alana's mouth and turned right to kiss Thesia. Tamar, who had been kneading Alana's feet all the time, glided up behind her and cupped both of Alana's cone-shaped breasts. Alana sighed deeply with the sensation of the naked girl against her back.

She watched in wonder as Macro and Thesia melted against each other. She saw Macro's hand as it stroked Thesia's thighs, and she saw the undulating movement of her sister-wife's hips. Alana felt a yearning to be touched between her thighs, too, just as Macro caressed those cream-skinned legs of Thesia.

Tamar withdrew one of her hands from Alana's breast and for a moment Alana felt disappointment. The hand moved down over her abdomen, though, travelling downward to the downy-haired triangle between Alana's thighs as Alana held her breath.

"It's not for me to touch you there," Tamar whispered.

Instead, the hand moved over her hip and onto Alana's left butt cheek. The other hand followed and Alana moaned as Tamar's hands applied the most delicious massage to her buttocks. It was inevitable that Tamar's thumbs strayed close to Alana's nether lips now and then, always eliciting excited gasps.

Under Tamar's ministrations Alana moved closer to Macro. In fact, she was fairly plastered against him, straddling his left leg and humping it as Tamar's fingers prodded her behind. Looking up she saw that Macro and Thesia were watching her. With both arms, Macro hugged his wives to him.

"I think it is time for us to go to the bedroom," he said.

Alana felt a knot in her stomach. "Do you want me too? Ouch!"

Macro had pinched her backside. "Of course, we want you too!" he grinned. "Don't we, Thesia?"

Thesia held out her hand. "Come, Alana, let us dry ourselves."

Assisted by Tamar and Ella, Thesia and Alana got up and stepped from the basin. After the hot water, the cool air felt good on their skin. They dried themselves, using soft cloth towels, and then Macro led them upstairs into the bedroom.

Both Thesia and Alana were self-conscious, walking up the stairs naked, but Macro gave them no choice in the matter, leading them by their hands. Once in the bedroom Tamar and Ella pulled the drapes of the huge bed open for them, and Macro made his wives lie down on the cool sheets. He turned to the equally naked servants.

"Would you bring us some wine and fruit?" He kissed both young women on their cheeks. "Thank you, my dears!"

Macro joined his wives on the bed, lying down between them. He kissed first Thesia and then Alana.

"I have two beautiful wives," he stated. He turned to Alana. "I shall make Thesia my wife first, but I ask you to stay with us. Your turn will come as soon as I shall have recuperated."

Alana's mouth was dry, and she nodded wordlessly, a mixture of fear and excitement in her eyes. Macro started to kiss Thesia's throat, causing the young redhead to squeal with pleasure. Next, he moved his attention to Thesia's pert breasts, fondling, kissing, and nipping them until Thesia's small body writhed under his ministrations. That was Macro's signal to head down to where her creamy-white thighs joined and where the thatch of wispy, red hair accentuated rather than hid Thesia's treasures.

He planted kisses on her thighs and on her stomach, and while Thesia writhed under his touches, he slid to the foot end of the bed, his body now between her spread legs. He continued his light kisses of her lower body, carefully skirting her pubes at first. He planted his hands on the inside of her thighs, using his thumbs to part the lips of her sex. He spent a few moments admiring the view before he pursed his lips to blow against her tender flesh.

"Unnngh!" Thesia moaned.

Still with pursed lips, he rained small kisses on her labia, all the way along her opening and down to her puckered anus. After kissing his way up again, he let his tongue flit over the rosy petals of her sex, still maintaining the feathery quality of his caresses. Thesia squirmed under those light touches, and her hips tried to press her sex against his mouth. In the middle of another such attempt, he suddenly captured the upper junction of her labia with his lips and sucked hard.

Thesia's scream sounded through the bedroom, and her hips bucked violently against his mouth. He released the suction until she relaxed again, letting her buttocks rest on the bed again. Again, he closed his lips over her most sensitive flesh, and now he let his tongue stab at her opening. Thesia tensed and screamed again.

Macro looked up at Alana who watched them with a burning face and wide eyes.

"Kiss her breasts!" he instructed her, briefly lifting his mouth from Thesia's sex.

Nodding numbly, Alana bent down and tentatively touched Thesia's left nipple with her lips. Thesia would have none of that. Deftly, she buried her left hand in Alana's hair and pressed her co-wife's mouth against her breast, moaning loudly. Chuckling inwardly, Macro returned his attention to Thesia's palace of pleasures. Alternately sucking on the little nubbin at the top of her slit and flicking it with his tongue, he soon had Thesia in convulsive movements. Her moaning and little cries filled the room, and her musky aroma wafted into his nostrils. He sensed that she was close to her release and closed his mouth over her erect pleasure button. He sucked it in and released it, sucked it in again. That last effort sufficed to drive Thesia into a blinding, thrashing release. Both Macro and Alana had a hard time holding on as her body convulsed in a wave of lust.

Before Thesia was able to regain a modicum of awareness, Macro was up between her legs, his stiff member aligned with Thesia's dripping sex. He pushed hard, once, and felt the skin barrier give way. A weak whimper was all Thesia mustered as response to his first penetration. With four, five more gentle pushes, he was already seated deep in her slippery but tight channel. He rested, waiting for the young woman to adapt to the penetration.

With wide-open eyes, she looked up at Macro, flinching only slightly when he began to move inside her. Only slowly coming to the realisation of what had happened, her eyes closed briefly and she exhaled.

"I'm yours now, my husband," she said, almost in awe.

"That you are, my sweet Thesia," Macro answered gently. "Ready for more?"

Taking a deep breath, Thesia nodded, and Macro began gentle in-and-out movements. In spite of her copious lubrication, she was extremely tight around his member, and he moved with great care. Gradually her love canal relaxed, allowing him to move with greater ease and less friction. At the same time, Thesia's hips began to respond to his penetrating member, meeting his thrusts, and her legs closed around his thighs, pulling him closer.

He could not last long, and he knew it. The physical sensations and the emotional charge were too strong. He lost his last remnants of control when Thesia lifted her head from the silk pillow, her arms around his neck, and locked her lips on his, exploring his mouth with her tongue. It was too much, and he began to pump into Thesia with abandon. From deep within the surge rose, and the ejaculation was almost painful in its intensity. For a moment, his vision blackened while his hips kept pumping, and then he lay on top of Thesia who clung to him with all her power.

A cool, wet cloth, wiping over their faces brought them back to the here and now. It was Alana who washed the sweat from their brows and eyes, with gentle care. Macro opened his eyes and looked down into Thesia's dear face. Her eyelids fluttered open too and she stared up at him conveying her deep feelings.

"I love you, Thesia," he said hoarsely.

"I love you, and I am forever yours," Thesia answered, and a wide smile spread over her face, lighting up her eyes. "I never dreamt it would be this wonderful."

Her hand reached out for Alana's. "Never be afraid, Alana! It is wonderful!"

Macro looked to his right where Alana sat on the bed, still naked. Gently he pulled her head close to him and kissed her lips. Then he turned her head slightly and rained small kisses on her scarred cheek.

"I bless those scars, sweet Alana. Without them you would have been married long ago to somebody who would have only seen your outward beauty. There is so much more to you than just your face and body, and I am happy that Thesia and I shall partake in the treasure that's hidden inside you."

Alana stared at him with wide eyes.

"My Prince and husband, I have yet problems to accept what my senses tell me. It would seem to me that you care for me, and my heart feels joy. Yet my head tells me I am but a pawn in the struggle for power over Tanitsar."

"I shall not lie to you, Alana. My father charged me with marrying you, mostly to protect you against the schemes of others, but also to seal the peace. I accepted willingly, because I had come to respect you in those weeks when you studied with Thesia. I regret the loneliness you had to endure, the scorn and the ridicule. If you let us, though, we will give you the love that eluded you so far. I cannot honestly say that I feel love for you. I want to try, though. Will you open up for me?"

Alana looked at him for quite a few breaths.

"I too cannot claim to feel love for you, my Prince. Yet of all the men I ever met, you are the one I want to love, because you are good. From the moment we met, you gave me respect and friendship. Even when I was your prisoner, you never let me feel vanquished. When I lay in my bed on Patris, cold, hungry and miserable, your face was in my dreams sometimes, and I slept peacefully."

"Let me make you my wife then, Alana," Macro said softly. "Let our bodies melt together and let me show you that you incite my desire."

Alana nodded, never letting her gaze waver from Macro's face. He felt her need to watch his eyes, and so he lay at her side, kissing her mouth softly and using his hands instead to caress the flawless skin of her neck and shoulders. Alana's eyes shot open suddenly when new sensations flooded her senses. Thesia had scooted closer and she used her lips and hand to caress Alana's breasts. With smiling lips, Macro continued to kiss his shy second wife.

With Thesia busy on Alana's breasts, Macro let his hands travel down to the flat tummy and those perfectly formed hips. His hands strayed to her thighs and then up along her sides while he kept his lips on Alana's. Then, while he softly kissed her eyes, forcing them closed, his hand cupped the downy-haired mound, and Alana let out a sobbing moan. Her hips began to undulate under his touch, and Macro was content to let his hand rest on her pubes while she rubbed her lips against his fingers.

When Macro kissed Alana's mouth again, her lips opened hungrily and her tongue met his, forcing its way into Macro's mouth. A deep purr emanated from her throat, ending in a long drawn moan when Thesia sucked hard on a nipple. Alana's hand found Thesia's head, and buried in the red tresses, pressed her co-wife's mouth against her chest.

Deciding to take things further, Macro let his middle finger slip between the soft lips of Alana's sex, where it met with heat and moisture. With his finger at her opening, Alana's hips moved faster and her moans became stronger. It was time.

Macro positioned himself between Alana's legs while Thesia moved out of the way. Thesia's hand took hold of Macro's once-again engorged member and placed it at Alana's opening. All he had to do was to bear down, and when he did, Alana's hips shot up from the mattress to meet his thrust. The penetration and the tearing of her hymen forced a cry of pain from her mouth, and Macro lay still, half embedded in her sex. Alana's eyes were wide open and she stared at Macro.

"Are you inside?" she panted. He moved slightly, causing a sharp intake of breath. "Yes, you are. I am yours now," she said in tone of wonder.

"Are you hurting, sweet Alana?" Macro asked with genuine care in his voice.

Alana nodded. "It hurt at first, it still does when you move, but it's getting less." She breathed deeply. "Can you try to get in deeper?"

Silently, but watching her face intently, Macro pressed deeper, gaining two or three finger widths. Alana gasped, and he paused again.

"It's ... It's not so bad anymore," she panted. "Deeper?"

Again he pushed further down. Alana's slender arms wrapped around his neck, and suddenly her pelvis jerked upwards and he was buried to the root. Her eyes almost bugged out at the sensation of fullness.

"Gods! Is it all in?"

"Yes, that's all I have," Macro could not help but chuckle. His hips began a small up-and-down undulation, and he was rewarded by a throaty moan from Alana.

"Oh my dear ... Oh Gods..." she babbled, but her hips were moving in concert with Macro's.

He also felt her loosening up, and he endeavoured to increase the length of his strokes. Alana responded in kind, her hips meeting each of his strokes. Macro looked sideways for a moment, and he saw Thesia kneeling next to them, looking on in awe. On their other side, Ella and Tamar watched them with longing in their eyes. Alana had seen his gaze wander and followed it. She saw the arousal and awe in the other women's eyes and she looked back up at her husband with a smouldering look.

"Let ... them ... all ... watch ... us!" she panted between strokes. "Ugly ... Alana ... gets ... fucked!"

Macro stopped and withdrew almost completely. Hovering over her and gazing down at her, he growled.

"There is no Ugly Alana!" He sunk down and buried himself to the root, forcing a cry from Alana's throat. Again, he pulled out. "You are my beautiful wife!" Alana cried out, as he speared her again. "No ... Ugly ... Alana ... only ... Beautiful ... Alana!"

Each word was accompanied by a powerful thrust, and each thrust was accompanied by a wailing "Aah!" from Alana. He felt her sex contract around him and he saw her eyes roll backwards in her head.

"Beauti-... -ful ... Alana!" he panted, pounding into her, and then he felt the surge in his loins. "Beauti-... -ful ... Alana!" he almost sobbed as his member erupted in his wife's sex, spurting seed deep into her womb.

He regained his thinking and registered with surprise that Thesia was kissing him fervently.

"That was so beautiful!" she moaned. "I had another peak of my own just from watching you!"

Alana's eyelids began to flutter as she came to, and at once, Thesia kissed her sister-wife with passion.

"Macro is right, Alana. There is no Ugly Alana, there never was. I have never seen anything as beautiful as you two together."

Alana had a dazed look on her face, but she smiled at Thesia and kissed her in return. "That's only because there is no mirror in here. You are beautiful, my sister!"

Ella and Tamar were standing at the bedside now, slightly flustered and self-conscious, and definitely subdued. This was their last service for Macro. Even when he would ascend to the throne, there would be no position of Royal Concubine anymore. Macro had offered them a choice of staying with the household in another capacity or leaving his employ with a sizable severance pay.

They had scented, wet towels and began to clean the bodies of the women first. Alana purred with pleasure under the soft and caring touches, but Thesia watched the two former slaves. When they were finished, Thesia stood from the bed and hugged both young women.

"Thank you both. From my first day in this house, you have made my life better. My husband, the Prince, does not need the services of pleasure servants anymore. Will you be my confidential servants instead?"

"Could we?" Tamar blurted, while Ella nodded fervently.

Thesia cast a glance at her husband who nodded, too. She looked at Alana next. Ignoring her own naked state, Alana rose from the bed and took Tamar's hand.

"May I borrow Tamar's services sometimes?" she asked coyly. "My behind has never felt better than today."

Tamar's mouth twitched as she debated with herself whether to say what was on her mind. Shrugging, she gave Alana a cheeky grin.

"If I may say so, no behind has ever felt better to me."

Alana blushed deeply, but she felt a tingle of pride and pleasure at the words, while Thesia deftly gripped one of Alana's aforementioned cheeks.

"I have to agree with Tamar," she announced grinning at Macro. "What does our Prince and husband say?"

Alana swatted Thesia's hand away with a mock pout. Macro shook his head, chuckling at the thought that things had truly changed.

"I will give this question my undivided attention if you two will join me in bed," he offered.

Edited by Erik Thread



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Chapter 12: The Journey to Hanilei


The long column of people moved slowly, as each person carefully walked up the narrow gangplanks onto the decks of the waiting ships. The seven good-sized caravelles seemed almost too small to take the stream of people who wanted to board them.

There were two hundred former slaves who claimed that they had been Hanilei citizens, with almost again as many companions accompanying them. Many of the former slaves had children whom they took with them, and not a few of them had spouses. There were fellow-slaves to whom they had been married right after their emancipation, but there were also eighteen women who travelled with their former masters. Quite a few former slave owners had taken the opportunity to marry their favourites now that they were eligible for a formal union.

There were also two women, wealthy widows, who had married former male slaves from their households. Tanitsar's society was changing. A number of the former slaves planned to visit their relatives in Hanilei but to return to Tanitsar with Macro. Those were not only the married ones, but also quite a few who saw a chance to start a trade in Tanitsar with the compensation King Odar had given them.

"It seems to take forever for them to board," Thesia complained to Macro.

They were standing with Alana at the stern of the Royal Caravelle, watching the embarkation. They were closely surrounded by no fewer than eight Guards. In the harbour, in the centre of Tanitsar, there was still the possibility that a fanatical follower of the old order would try his luck with a crossbow. However remote the chance, Anais was taking no risks. She was in charge of the half-column of guards detailed to protect Macro and his wives on the voyage. This was on top of the regular complement of Marine soldiers.

Each of the other caravelles shipped a score of marine soldiers. There were still a few pirates roaming the sea between Tanitsar and Hanilei, although those would be well advised to leave this convoy in peace.

Finally, the last group of passengers had embarked and the gangplanks were pulled in. The lines were cast off, the sails filled, and one by one the flotilla rounded the jetty protecting the harbour to the sounds of 19 gongs that honoured a Prince Royal when he left the harbour.

Thesia shuddered slightly when the first swell of the sea lifted the bows. She had been a captive, subject to unspeakable abuse, when she had last sailed in a ship. Macro held her comfortingly, sensing her discomfort, and she looked up at her husband gratefully. The Master Nauticus approached them.

"The wind is fair for Hanilei, my Prince. I expect a quick crossing. Are you satisfied with your quarters?"

"Yes, Nauticus. Did you find room for my Guard detachment?"

"Indeed, my Prince. We cleared a room amidships for them. It's just hammocks, but it'll do for a few days."

Suddenly Macro remembered Anais. "We'll need a separate room for the column leader."

The Master Nauticus looked flabbergasted for a second. "Forgive me, Prince, but I did not expect ... Nobody told me, really..."

"It is all the same, my Prince," Anais stated. "I do not ask for special treatment."

"No, it is not all right," Alana said with conviction. "Soldier or not, a woman must not sleep in a room with a full column of men."

"Alana is right, Macro," Thesia agreed. "Let's put a cot in the small chamber where we keep our trunks."

"No, it's all right. I wouldn't intrude on..."

Macro smiled at her. She was terribly flustered. "Anais, we shall need special protection. I shall want you to stay close to us, even at night. The chamber to starboard seems just right."

"But, my Prince!"

"Column Leader Anais, cannot you follow a simple order?"

Anais took a deep breath. "As you wish, my Prince!" came the resigned answer.

-------

The wind held through the day, and the flotilla was already past Beyreth when the sun set. As courtesy dictated, Macro entertained the Master Nauticus and his officers in the state cabin. Anais hardly ate a thing Macro noticed.

By necessity, the dinner did not last long, and soon the ship's officers left. Anais left too to give orders for the night. She returned, perhaps a quarter hour later. Her knock on the door of the cabin was light, and Macro suspected that she wanted it to be missed to have an excuse to sleep somewhere else.

"You may come in," he called, for Thesia and Alana were already in bed. Macro still wore his tunic.

Anais came in, looking around with apprehension. Macro decided to get to the bottom of her behaviour.

"A word, Anais. Have a seat at the table."

Obediently, Anais sat.

"What is all this, Anais? You were in my tent all the time during the siege of Patris. Why are you acting like this?"

Anais blushed. Before she could say a word they heard a rustle from the bed and Thesia got up to join them at the table. She sat next to Anais and took her hand.

"Macro, it is not because of you. It's because of Alana and me. Anais is afraid that we, you, Alana, and me, will make love. It will make her miserable to hear us. Am I right, Anais?"

The tall, black-haired girl hung her head, but she nodded.

"Why would... ?" Macro began, but then he understood.

This was a delicate situation. Anais was a trusted subordinate, a promising officer, and to Macro, almost like younger sister. He could relate to her ambition, to her desire to excel. Could it be that she felt more than loyalty for him?

He remembered the evening when he had first met her — in the Palace. She had rebuked his tentative advances, citing the impossibility of a romance between a son of the King and a slave girl. So many things had changed since then, and when all was said, he was now married to a former slave girl. He remembered what his mother's had said then, that the time had not been right.

Was it right now? He already had two wives. Of course, he was expected to have four wives, but the King, according to his mother, had picked one woman for him already. But then he remembered what King Odar had said about finding agreement with Elbar. Alana was the one woman his father required him to marry. That meant he would be free to choose his other wives.

"Anais," he began softly. "Almost two years ago, I asked if I could call upon you. You said that nothing could come from that, seeing who and what we were. Since then, the old order of things has been overthrown. Would you still answer the same?"

Anais' eyes were brimming over as she shook her head. Suddenly, Macro felt certain. He looked at Thesia. With a smile, she nodded, cupping Anais' hand with hers. Macro then looked at Alana. It would be harder for her, seeing that Anais had killed her uncle.

"Alana, can you find it in your heart to accept this brave young woman as your co-wife?"

Anais looked at him with her mouth open. Alana sat up in bed, and Macro saw that she considered what he had said. Once, twice, Alana started to speak, but she stopped both times. Then she tried a third time.

"Things have changed. Months ago, I would have felt hurt at your suggestion. I was the Noble Alana, and I would have regarded Anais as inferior." She held up her hand to quell any protest. "As I said, that was months ago. I have gone through many experiences since then, bad ones, good ones, and very good ones." Here, Alana smiled and blushed. "I'm not the same woman anymore. A few months ago, I would have hated Anais for her beauty, because I felt so ugly. Now you, Macro, and you, Thesia, give me the feeling that I may not be so ugly. I no longer feel envy seeing Anais and her beauty. I feel love now for you, my husband, and my love is fulfilled every day. If Anais loves you the way I do, it would be cruel to reject her. If she can accept me, I am ready to accept her."

Macro lifted Anais' chin with his finger.

"Anais, should I speak to your father when we return?"

Anais looked at him. He could see hope in her eyes. "If you will have this girl, my Prince, I shall be your loyal wife, and a loyal sister to the Princess Thesia and the Princess Alana."

With a squeal, Thesia hugged Anais. Alana got up from the bed to join in the hug, and then all three women pressed themselves against Macro. Thesia was the first to disengage herself from the group.

"Anais, take off your armour. You will sleep in the bed with us."

Macro started to protest. "Do you think it's wise to... ?"

Thesia cut Macro short. "Not at your side. She will not be your concubine. She will join us as a virgin after we return. She can sleep with us though. If she sees with what Alana and I have to put up she may reconsider."

Alana giggled and Macro did a double take. Alana giggling? The world was becoming a very strange place. She was pulling Macro to the bed already and he landed on top of her.

"Shameless!" Thesia huffed. "The way she flaunts her body you'd never guess her to be of royal blood. Now, Anais, get undressed before 'Lana gets too much of a head start!"

Wearing her tunic only Anais joined them on Thesia's side, or rather against her back, for Thesia claimed Macro's left side for herself. Alana had plastered herself to his right side, sighing contentedly. Thesia looked over her shoulder.

"Sorry, my dear Anais, you may watch and listen but not more, at least not with Macro."

Anais took a deep breath and put her left arm around Thesia's torso, snuggling up to the petite redhead.

"That's nice," Thesia purred. "Being the First Wife has its perks – ouch! What was that for?"

Macro had pinched her backside. "Being a little full of yourself," he answered.

-------

When Macro woke up to the swaying motion of the ship, he found that there were worse fates than having two wives. It was not the first time that he had to acknowledge this fact. It was hard to believe how fast Alana had become almost as close to him as Thesia. Once she had thawed, once she had shed her shyness and complexes, she was a joy to have around.

Of course, such was Thesia. He loved her with all his heart even whilst – or perhaps because – he became closer to Alana. It was unbelievable how this tiny ... Tiny? Macro was wide awake now and he turned left. The crop of hair under his nose was raven-black, and the legs that straddled his thigh were at least as long as his own. Behind the black hair, he could see the tousled, reddish hair of Thesia. She must have switched places with Anais. The young woman in his arms must have sensed that he was awake. She looked up sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed.

For an answer, Macro held her close. She sighed contentedly and relaxed briefly. But not for long.

"I need to check on my column," she mouthed, and Macro nodded, smiling at her.

Anais contrived to leave the bed without waking either Thesia or Alana. She disappeared into the small chamber allocated to her and returned a few minutes later already dressed in her black uniform. Waving shyly at Macro she opened the cabin door. Macro heard the Guard sentries outside come to attention, but then Anais obviously went for the Guards' quarters.

Thesia and Alana woke a little while later, and at first they seemed to be of a mind to make use of Anais's absence. However, with the Guard sentries standing at the cabin door, they did not have the necessary privacy. They decided to cuddle and talk to each other instead.

"How do you feel about last night?" Macro tried to sound his wives out.

"I have known about Anais's feelings for you for a while," Thesia admitted. "Since the evening after the fighting at the gates of Tanitsar. I told her then that I would not object to her joining us. I really like her."

Macro looked at Alana. "We're alone, Alana. What are your true feelings?"

She did not answer right away, as if she had to explore her mind first. Her brows creased slightly, as always when she pondered a problem. But then her features cleared and she gave Macro a smile.

"When she burst into my chamber at Patris, I was terrified of her. All I knew was that she had killed my uncles, and I thought that she had come to extinguish my family entirely. She was very kind though; she even helped me on the way down to your camp. I think I will grow to like her, and even if I can't, I shall accept her. I believe she will be good for you, Macro."

Macro wrapped Alana into his arms and gave her a very long kiss. "Alana, I always respected you, and I gladly accepted you as my wife. In the last weeks, however, I have come to feel strongly for you. I always thought I could love only Thesia, but what I feel for you already comes very close. You are a true treasure."

-------

Over the next days, Anais spent more and more time with Macro, Thesia, and Alana. Still, she performed her duties with great dedication, and she did her utmost to ease the shipboard life of the Princesses.

During the nights, Anais could be found in Macro's bed, though not directly snuggled up to him. On the last evening of their journey, Thesia could not control her urges anymore. With an apologetic glance at Alana and Anais, she took a good hold of Macro's member, which swelled rapidly in anticipation. She scooted down and took the tip of the engorged organ into her mouth, licking and sucking on it until Macro squirmed under her ministrations.

Meanwhile, Alana was running her hand up and down on Macro's chest, while she nibbled on his earlobe. She had found out already that she could stimulate him greatly when she did that. Anais watched the proceedings, somewhat at a loss, until Alana reached over Macro to pull the black-haired girl closer to Macro's other side. Macro's arm went around Anais and Alana, pulling them close, while enjoying Thesia's talented mouth.

Finally, Thesia seemed content with the stiffness of Macro's member. Straddling his legs, she moved up, until her own sex was positioned above the straining manhood. Parting her opening with her fingers, she placed the tip between her swollen labia and sank down impaling herself.

She uttered a deep sigh when she bottomed out and closed her eyes in bliss. Then she started the gentle rocking motion that she had learned to enjoy so much in her few weeks as Macro's wife.

Macro lay under her, letting her keep the initiative and enjoying her efforts. He absolutely adored the young woman. She was small and seemed fragile, but she was all woman. She had adapted quickly to her new role, and she had lost all the shyness around him, speaking her mind frequently.

On his side, Alana watched her co-wife with an amused smile. Yet by the way her thighs worked against each other, he knew her to be aroused too. Since that first night together, he had discovered that under her veneer of noble sophistication, Alana was a passionate woman. He needed only to touch her for this passion to come to the front, and he loved to touch her. Where Thesia was almost elfin in her appearance, Alana was a tall, perfectly built woman. To see this body in the throes of lust was a sight to behold.

Thesia's movements became faster and more urgent. Little cries escaped from her open lips as she rubbed her pleasure spots against Macro's pelvis. He could see her sparse red hair where their bodies were joined, wet with their combined juices, and glistening in the light of the oil lamps.

Thesia continued her rocking motions, tilting her pelvis to achieve better friction. Macro reached up, to cup her swaying breasts, but Alana pushed his hands away. Instead, she sat up and moved close to Thesia, her mouth enclosing the smaller woman's left nipple and eliciting a gasp.

Anais had watched the lovemaking with big eyes. When Alana started to kiss Thesia's breast, however, she sat up, to. She looked at Alana who gave her an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, Anais moved forward and caught Thesia's right nipple with her lips.

The combined assault at three of her lust centres sufficed to drive Thesia over the edge. With a strangled cry, she slumped forward, dislodging the two mouths from her breasts. Pressing against Macro's chest, she slammed her hips down one last time. Macro felt her love canal as it began its telltale pulsing. He was ready too, and when Thesia cried out her lust into the pit of his neck, he let go as well. From deep within his balls, he felt the surge rise. His hips slammed upwards, trying to penetrate her even deeper as his semen shot forth, deep into Thesia's womb.

Thesia stayed for a while, covering his body with hers until the last spasms subsided. Then she scooted upwards, dislodging Macro's member, to kiss him. The kiss lasted a few minutes, and Thesia revelled in the feel of Macro's lips and of Alana's hand as it stroked her back soothingly. She turned to her co-wife.

"You're sweet, Alana. I loved your kisses." She turned to the other side where Anais watched them with shining eyes. "You too, Anais. I can't wait for you to join us."

Thesia lifted herself off Macro's body and vaulted over Anais to reach the wash stand. Using a wet cloth, she cleaned herself of the residues of their lovemaking, before she returned to the cot to clean Macro's midsection as well.

To Anais's consternation, Thesia then lay down behind her, pushing her against Macro who wrapped his arms around both Alana and Anais. The tall, sinewy girl gasped as Thesia's left hand cupped one of her small breasts, pinching the nipple between her thumb and index finger. Anais trembled slightly with the jolt of lust that shot through her and cuddled closer to Macro. She heard a self-satisfied chuckle behind her, and Thesia's hand pressed her breast once more.

When she woke up, Anais was slightly disoriented. She felt warm and cosy, an altogether unaccustomed feeling for the young soldier ... as was the feeling of a soft hand on her tit! Thesia still held her from behind. Anais looked up to see that Macro was awake too. He smiled at her.

"Good morning, Column Leader," he whispered.

Immediately, Anais became aware of her duties again. They would reach Hanilei this morning, and she needed to inspect her guard column and instruct them one last time. With gentle care, she extricated herself from Thesia's hold. Before she could scoot to the foot end of the cot, Macro's hand at her chin stayed her.

Looking into his eyes, she realised his intention, and she tilted her face up to meet his lips. The kiss was only brief, but it gave her a warm feeling. She took his hand and kissed it briefly, before she left the cot to dress.

She felt Macro's gaze on her body while she dressed, but it did not make her self-conscious. On the contrary! His eyes caressing her long limbs and slender body made her feel coveted.

She was just trying to shimmy into her tight fitting black pants when he beckoned her over again. She obeyed, her pants still around her thighs, and came close to the bed. With his hand, Macro made a circling motion, and Anais turned. She felt the pressure of his hand on her back and bent over.

"Aaungh!" she exclaimed.

Macro had licked all along her slit in one wet swipe. Then his lips found her lust centre and sucked, forcing another moan from her lips. Two soft kisses on her cheeks followed, and then a gentle swat on her butt.

Anais stood straight again and turned. Macro grinned at her, and his lips formed a kiss. Quick as a flash, Anais bent down to kiss him. He tasted funny, she thought, but then realised that she was tasting herself on his lips.

"I'll see you at breakfast," Macro whispered.

With a sigh, Anais pulled up her pants. Her black tunic followed, and the little silver breastplate. She tied the belt and fastened her sword before she opened the cabin door. The two sentries stood at attention, and Anais quickly strode past them and to the Guards' quarters. She thought she heard two women giggle from the cabin, but she did not mind.

Edited by Erik Thread



-------

Chapter 13: Disappointment


"This is where the temple used to be," Thesia pointed. "Now the rich families live there; they built their palaces on the ruins. Over there, that used to be the royal palace; now the Eldermen rule from it."

Thesia pointed out important buildings to Macro, Alana, and Anais, as the caravelle entered the wide harbour of Helas, the rich capital of Hanilei. On Macro's orders the seven ships cast anchor in the outer harbour, more than twenty ship's lengths from the quays. A boat was then sent, carrying a letter to the Council of Eldermen, asking for permission to land, and stating the purpose of the visit.

The boat crew returned and could tell Macro nothing more than that the letter was received. Macro and his wives retired to their cabin for lunch, as it was not in keeping with their dignity to show impatience. It was not too long, however, before a large rowing boat left the quay and approached them in haste. Macro was summoned on deck, and he watched as the Elderman Brugar stood in the stern of the boat as it came nearer.

Macro greeted the man politely as he climbed up the Jacob's ladder.

"I greet you, Elderman Brugar!"

"In the name of the Hani People, I welcome you to Helas, Prince Macro. We were in great anxiety when we heard of the revolt against your father and very relieved to hear of the outcome."

"Worthy Elderman, may I present my wives to you, the Princess Thesia and the Princess Alana."

Brugar's eyes opened wide when he realised who the Princess Thesia was. He bowed to the women.

"I greet you both in the name of my people. Welcome home again, Princess Thesia."

Thesia and Alana nodded gracefully. Brugar turned to Macro again.

"How many of our citizens did you bring home, Prince Macro?"

"All of them, by our reckoning. One hundred eighty in total, but that includes thirty-seven who will return to Tanitsar with us. Most of those have married, and they brought their spouses along to meet their relatives. Others want to stay in Tanitsar with their grown children."

Brugar nodded.

"They will all be welcomed, whether they will stay or return to Tanitsar. Of course, we were advised of your plans, but we did not know the exact day and time. Could we postpone the landing until the afternoon? This will give us the time for preparations."

"Certainly," Macro answered with a smile. "What can we expect?"

Brugar smiled back. "A big feast. The Prince Macro and his wives will be guests of honour. It has become known that you were the driving force behind the end of slavery in Tanitsar. You are very popular in Hanilei."

Macro shook his head. "My father, King Odar, has been working on this issue for a quarter century. I just happened to be able to help when the time was finally right."

Brugar just smiled. "Nevertheless, your presence will satisfy our people immensely."

"Elderman Brugar, can I see my family before all the public receptions?" Thesia interjected.

A look of embarrassment replaced the smile on Brugar's face. "Princess Thesia, not everything went as I thought it would. My dreams of resurrecting the Temple are not shared by my peers, I am afraid. There is a strong sentiment in the Council that we need neither a Temple nor priests. This sentiment spilled out into the streets, and your family did not have an easy time, I regret to say. Being responsible for the situation, I offered them shelter in my home, after your father's house and shop were burnt down by an ill-advised mob."

Thesia's eyes filled with tears. "But why? Why the resentment against my mother, after so many years?"

"Some people stand to lose a lot if the priesthood were to be revived," Brugar said with a bitter undertone. "Think of who built their fancy houses on the ruins of the temple."

Macro understood immediately. "Was that why the mob was not stopped?" he asked pointedly.

Brugar shrugged. "I have my suspicions, but I cannot prove anything. My brethren are not as interested in this, and I am only one of five."

Macro turned to Anais. "Column Leader, prepare the Guards for duty tonight. Swords, shields, and halberds. See to it that they are presentable. You are to form a protective formation around my wives during this evening's feast."

"Yes, my Prince!" Anais answered eagerly.

Brugar looked shocked and Macro shrugged. "Seeing that violent mobs run unchecked through Helas, I have to take measures to protect my wives."

Brugar blushed with embarrassment, but then he sighed. "I shall clear it with the Council. It is a big loss of face, but one we earned. Does the Princess Thesia wish to meet her family before the reception and the feast? I could have them brought to your ship?"

"That would be wonderful," Thesia smiled gratefully. Next she sobered, however. "What will happen to them now?"

Brugar shrugged helplessly. "They can stay at my house for as long as they want, but I am an old man. I can't shelter them forever."

Macro put his arm around Thesia and his mouth to her ear. "Don't worry, love! Your mother and your father will be appreciated in Tanitsar if they chose to come with us."

Macro looked at Brugar. "All this puts a different perspective on things. We had better cut our visit short under the circumstances. However, we need to get together tomorrow, to negotiate important trade issues. Our mines are now operated by the Crown after the former owners were found guilty of High Treason and disenfranchised. This means that your metal-working guilds must negotiate new deals with the Crown."

"Two of the mine owners, Ebonas and Lithris, have fled to Hanilei. They claim that they still own the mines."

Macro shook his head. "The mines always belonged to the crown. They were leased to people like Ebonas and Lithris, and the lease expired when they betrayed us. I must warn you, Elderman Brugar. I shall demand that the traitors be handed over to me. Sheltering enemies of my father will not make our negotiations easy."

"They have friends among the guilds, Prince," Brugar answered thoughtfully.

Macro laughed harshly. "For decades, you blamed Tanitsar for adhering to slavery. Yet, you shelter the most brutal of the slave holders?"

"Again, Prince, this is not my preference. The council is split over this. Both men have wealthy friends."

Macro's jaw set when hearing this. "Your council must understand that friendly relations with Tanitsar and friendship with its enemies cannot go hand in hand. The Council must choose. Until you reach a decision, there can be no trade. We will not let our enemies profit from our wealth."

"And our citizens? The freed slaves?"

"Of course they will be landed as promised. In return, I ask you to have my wife's family brought to my ship while we start the disembarkation. I regret this very much, but I will not attend any celebrations in Helas while my father's enemies enjoy your hospitality."

Brugar sighed and bowed. "I regret this development too. I shall convey your words to the Council. Perhaps they will reconsider. The jetty over there is probably best suited for landing our people."

Brugar held out his hand, and Macro shook it before the old man climbed back down into the pinnace. Macro watched the boat thoughtfully as it returned to the shore. Alana stepped close to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Now I understand why Uncle Botho always scorned the Hani. He used to say that they did not care a whit about slavery as long as we kept shipping ore to them. He was right, you know."

Thesia joined them. "I had been looking forward to coming home to Helas," she said dejectedly. "Now I just want to leave."

Alana hugged her. "This isn't your wrongdoing, Thesia. In Tanitsar, everything used to be about noble ancestors. Here, everything is about gold and silver. Either way is wrong, and whilst we have departed from our wrong path, the Hani are still set on theirs."

"I shall give them a little direction!" Macro laughed grimly. He turned to the Master Nauticus. "Please, Master, have the passengers brought on deck."

Within minutes, the Hani crowded the deck, and Macro relayed to them what had transpired. Their reaction was mixed. Most of them were content to be returned home. A few, however, were vocal in their dismay. One of them, a young woman, was completely distraught.

"How can they shelter Ebonas? Don't they know what he did to us?"

"They always knew, and they never cared," a middle aged man answered in a bitter tone. "The sons and daughters of guild members were always ransomed. Only the simple people remained slaves. Whether we worked for them in Hanilei in their shops or on Tanitsar in the mines to produce ore for them, was one and the same to the guilds. Prince, I have changed my mind. May I return to Tanitsar with you?"

"Me, too," the young woman said impulsively. "I cannot breathe the same air as those slavers."

Meanwhile, the news was passed on to the other ships, and Macro could hear shouts of anger from their decks. He assured everybody that only the ones who wanted to stay in Hanilei would be shipped to the jetty. For the rest he would ask Brugar to arrange for their relatives to visit them on board the ships. Macro was secretly pleased. This snub by their own people would jolt the Council even more, he hoped.

Brugar kept his word. Whilst the first boats with the freed Hani made their way to the long jetty that enclosed the harbour, Brugar's pinnace crept out from the harbour. Thesia gasped, for she could see her mother in the bows of the boat. It took an eternity in Thesia's eyes for the boat to reach the Royal Caravelle, but finally the bowman hooked onto the ship's chains.

On Anais' orders four marine soldiers rushed down into the boat to help the passengers up. After just a few moments, two women stood on the deck looking confused. Not for long, however, for Thesia rushed to meet them. Macro and Alana held back giving Thesia some time first.

For minutes, Thesia held on tightly to the small, silver-haired woman. The silvery blonde girl, Thesia's sister, looked at them with a decidedly surly face. Macro edged closer when mother and daughter finally disengaged. Thesia looked around.

"Where is father? Is he all right?"

As if she had waited for a chance to vent her anger, Thesia's sister launched into a tirade.

"He renounced us, all of us! The sorry little ass turned his back on us! He can't live with us he says, after people learned who Mother is. Couldn't you keep a lid on it, Thesia? Did you have to show off in front of an Elderman? Now Father left us, my fiancé broke our engagement, and there is no place in Hanilei where we can live. Well done, little sister! At least, you came out of this looking good!"

Thesia stepped back in shock, but Macro stood ready to hug her from behind. His contact gave Thesia assurance. Ignoring her still-steaming sister she turned back to her mother, Eloa.

"Mother, this is my husband, Prince Macro of Tanitsar."

Eloa quickly stepped forward, taking his hand into her small hands.

"From Thesia's letters we learned how you saved her and protected her. From the bottom of my heart I thank you for your noble actions. Now we learn that my child is your wife and a royal princess. It is almost too much! How can we ever find peace in our humble existence again?"

Macro studied her. Her voice was cultivated and strong, and her eyes full of expression. Were it not for her greying blonde hair she would have looked like Thesia's older sister, yet she had to be well over forty summer cycles old.

"Worthy Priestess, if you will allow me to assist you, you will never again live in a humble existence. Leave this island of penny pinchers with Thesia and me! Tanitsar has changed. No longer is it a realm of suppression and slavery. My father and I want to make Tanitsar an island of knowledge and a beacon of civilisation. With your help we can wake the dormant past and learn from it for our betterment."

The idea had come to him spontaneously, but it was clear that Thesia would not want to leave her mother back in Hanilei. Brugar's dream of rebuilding the Helas Temple was dead, and Lutar had renounced his wife. Better bring Eloa and her daughter to Tanitsar where they could teach the new generations.

"But I am a priestess no more! I married Lutar and I bore him two daughters. Old Brugar is crazy. He thinks that I can rebuild the Temple, but nobody wants that."

"Not a temple, Eloa! An academy, where the young ones are taught the wisdom of today and of the yesteryears. An academy, where we will educate our future poets, healers, and magisters of the law. For fifty years, the madness of kings and the fury of the mobs have destroyed all that was good in our islands. Let us at least rebuild a small part of it!"

"How can I do this? I have been a housewife for twenty years."

Alana stepped forward. "I am Alana, your daughter's sister-wife, and she let me partake of some of what she learned from you. Judging you by the extent of your daughter's knowledge, you will be revered as a teacher."

Eloa looked at the tall young woman. She did not acknowledge the praise, though.

"How long ago did it happen, my poor girl? Seven, eight years?"

Alana blushed crimson and her scars stood out more than usual. Eloa's delicate hand reached out touching the tortured skin.

"Was there nobody to tend to your burns? Is all the healing knowledge lost on Tanitsar?" Suddenly, she had tears in her eyes as she turned to Macro. "Will you allow young people from other nations to come and learn too?"

Macro nodded solemnly and the woman looked up into the sky before she made her commitment.

"Something must be done before our world slides back into ignorance. I accept your offer, Prince Macro."

Macro heaved a sigh of relief. Regardless of the fallout of today's disagreements, he would carry home a prize. He turned to Thesia's older sister, Pilar. She was every bit as beautiful as Thesia, even more delicate with the silvery blonde hair she had inherited from her mother. She was still sullen, though.

"I greet you, Pilar. Thesia has told us many things about you."

His friendly greeting was not well appreciated. Her green eyes flashed with anger.

"She should have kept her mouth shut! I was engaged to Lelis, the son of the headman of the silversmiths' guild. I would have been set up nicely, but no, my sister has to show off her reading skills in front of an Elderman! Poof, my fiancé was gone!"

"Do not worry. A young woman of your beauty will not stay without suitors for long. Besides, you learned the secrets of the Old Language from your mother too. You could assist her."

"Pshaw! Nosing through musty parchment scrolls! What a prospect!"

She just turned away from Macro. He could see that her mother was embarrassed yet unable to control the girl. She had a bad bee in her bonnet after being courted by a sprig of Hanilei's moneyed nobility. Thesia was crestfallen. She rushed into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

It was Alana who confronted Pilar. "You may want to learn better manners," she said calmly. "With a disposition like that you will indeed have problems keeping fiancés."

"Who asked you, Scarface?"

Everybody held their breath and expected Alana to tear out Pilar's throat. To their utter surprise Alana just smiled.

"Yes, you are right. I am the Scarface. Do you think that I have never heard that name before, stupid girl? Oh, but I am grateful for those burns. Without them I would have been married off to some pretentious nobleman years ago. The scars kept me unmarried until I met the right man, and they gave me the humility and the understanding to appreciate my good fortune. See, stupid girl: I may bear scars in my face but I still married the best man in the realm! They also gave me the understanding to appreciate the friendship and companionship of a truly beautiful woman, your sister.

"Think about it! Once your youthful beauty wanes, what qualities will remain? What will keep your husband from straying? Your even temper? Your gentle disposition? Your wisdom? Hah! Stupid girl, once your beauty wanes, you will become a lonesome and bitter shrew."

Alana turned her back to Pilar and joined Macro and Thesia, hugging the latter.

"I'm sorry, Dearest, for losing my countenance. Has she always been like this?"

Macro and his wives escorted Thesia's family down into the State Cabin, where the table was already set for a late noon meal. Anais joined them a little later, sitting to Thesia's right, and opposite Pilar.

"Mother, Pilar, this is Anais. She is a Column Leader in the Royal Guards and responsible for our safety. She will also join Alana and me as Third Wife after our return."

Thesia's explanation was met with raised eyebrows by her mother, but Pilar could not keep her mouth shut.

"A black-haired one? The Prince will have need for a blonde to complete the set, won't he?"

Macro grinned at his sister-in-law. "Are you applying in the end? For the time being, I have to decline."

Pilar blushed violently. "This is not ... I would never ... How..."

In the end, she clapped her mouth shut and looked down at her plate, whilst her throat and cheeks turned pink. Thesia smiled delightedly. For once, her big sister had found her match.

Eloa looked at her younger daughter. "I know it is the custom in Tanitsar, but are you comfortable with sharing your husband?"

Thesia smiled at her mother. "Yes, Mother, I am. After all, Macro shares Alana with me too. Alana is a wonderful friend, and I know that Anais will also fit in perfectly."

"My little sister, the perfect harem girl," Pilar snorted derisively. Then she gasped and beads of sweat formed on her forehead whilst Anais, who was sitting across from her, gave her an angry glare.

"Don't insult the Princess!" Anais spoke.

Pilar stared back fearfully at the tall, raven-haired Amazon with the foreign features, and she nodded meekly. It was not just Anais' stare. It also had to do with Anais' boot that was threatening to crush Pilar's sandal-clad feet under the table.

"I am sorry," she told Anais.

Anais shook her head and nodded towards Thesia. Pilar swallowed hard.

"I am sorry, Thesia."

Thesia stood up and walked around the table. With a deft grip she pulled her sister up and led her to the sleeping cabin where she made her sit on the cot. In a low voice, she spoke to her sister.

"Pilar, what is it? What did I ever do to make you so angry at me?"

The older girl's eyes showed her resentment.

"Don't you realise it? You're my younger sister. Yet, with everything you do you upstage me. You were always quicker to learn. You're so damn beautiful I want to kill you sometimes! Then at last you vanish, captured by pirates, and I think they will put you into your place all right. The next thing we hear is that you are betrothed to a fucking prince! Everything turns out your way. What?"

Thesia had turned white as a sheet, and her voice was but a hoarse whisper.

"How can you say that? How can you even think like that? The pirates would put me into my place? Do you have any idea what they did? Do you know what it feels like when filthy, brutal men shove their members up your arse, four, five times every day? Can you imagine the pain and the shame? When they stuff their dirty, slimy dicks into your throat afterwards, until you puke all over them? Have you ever smelled the burnt skin when they mark a slave, or heard the terrified shrieks of pain? Are you satisfied now? Yes, your sister was put in her place all right. This must be wonderful news for you. Why don't you go and tell Mother? She will think so much better of you knowing how I was put in place. Go!"

By this time, Pilar's face had turned crimson. She sank down from the cot and onto her knees before Thesia frantically grabbing for her knees.

"Oh no! Oh no! Thesia, I had no idea! I thought ... You never mentioned anything in your letters. I just assumed ... Please, don't hate me, Thesia! I mean, of course, you hate me. But please, forgive me!"

Finally, a dam broke, and both sisters started to cry openly. Pilar buried her face in Thesia's lap, her arms around her younger sister's legs, shaking in violent sobs, while Thesia stood upright, with tears running down her cheeks.

When Pilar's sobs finally subsided, she lifted her tear-streaked face, to look up at her sister. How could men do such vile things to such a beautiful, gentle girl? The answer crashed down on her: to degrade her and break her, just as she, Pilar, had hoped them to do. Again, she cringed under her guilt.

Her mind raced to find a way out of this mess, to find a way to redeem herself in her poor sister's eyes. Could she find those brutes and bring them to justice, could she kill them even? For a flash, she saw herself presenting her sister with the cut-off heads of her tormentors. She looked down on her slender body. No, she wasn't cut out for a warrior.

Then she remembered one of the last lessons she had taken from her mother before Thesia had been abducted. Her mother had taught them the antidotes. To teach antidotes, she had also explained the common poisons, both man-made and natural. Pilar remembered the greyish metal powder, arsenic. It killed people under excruciating pain. Those off-white mushrooms too were potent killers. She would have to get onto the pirate ship...

"Pilar?" Thesia's voice tore her from her revenge fantasies. She looked into her sister's eyes. "I can't hate you. You are my sister."

"Some sister," Pilar sniffed dejectedly. "Thesia, have those brutes been brought to justice?"

Thesia nodded grimly. "I have never told anybody. When they marched us off the ship in the harbour, we had to stand there on the quay almost forever while the captain negotiated with the local traders. I saw a dead rat. You learned the signs from mother, Pilar. Its tongue was blue and swollen."

"The plague!"

"I threw it into one of the water casks they were about to load. They found the ship with not a single man alive six weeks later. Those swine will never molest girls again."

"That was ... brilliant!"

"Pilar, it did nothing to erase the memories. It did not make anything undone. It was Macro's love that healed me."

Pilar thought about that. Who loved her? Her father? Obviously not. Her mother? Perhaps. Lately, they had fought so often! Lelis certainly did not love her she knew. He would have enjoyed her beauty for a few years before he would have turned to concubines. Suddenly, she saw herself as she had been in the last years: moody, arrogant, envious of her sister, and always gloating over other people's misfortunes. Who could love her?

An idea came to her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more she saw the potential.

"Thesia, when we arrive in Tanitsar, I don't want to move into a palace as your sister. I can work for Mother if she thinks that she can use me. If not I'll find other work. Whatever I will do I will work hard to earn my keep and to make my life worthwhile."

"Pilar, you can achieve almost everything if you stop expecting others to solve your problems. I don't learn more easily than you. You just never put your heart into it. Neither am I more beautiful than you – and you know it. You just never try to be nice to people, and that clouds your beauty in people's perception. Just think of today! You alienated almost everybody on first sight. Macro, Alana, and Anais. I was surprised that Alana did not give you a scarface."

Pilar slumped even more. "I will apologise to her and to the others," she whispered. "Will you help me tie up my hair, please."

With quick movements Pilar took off her arm rings, her gold necklace, and other adornments. With Thesia's help she bound her wonderful silvery hair into a tight, unbecoming bun. Her weak spot, her "jug ears" as she called them secretly, showed strongly glowing red with the shame she felt. She hated her ears. Since her youth she had devoted untold hours to arranging her hair so that it covered them.

The tight bun was the traditional hair style of apprenticed girls. It also showed humility, which was the message Pilar wanted to convey. When she stood to return to the State Cabin she suddenly felt Thesia's hand around hers, pressing it encouragingly. She shook her head.

"I don't deserve you, Thesia," she whispered.

"Try to earn me then," Thesia answered.

Everybody looked up when they re-entered the cabin. After one more encouraging squeeze of her hand, Thesia let go and sat at Macro's side again leaving Pilar alone to face the table. She turned to her mother, first.

"Forgive me, for bringing shame onto you with my behaviour," she said, bowing her head. Feeling her ears burn, she turned to Alana. "Princess Alana, I beg forgiveness for my terrible words. I am ashamed for what I said to you."

She wanted to turn to Macro next but Alana stood and put her finger under Pilar's chin lifting her face. She took her time staring into Pilar's eyes.

"I used to be like you, Pilar, many years ago. I was so full of myself and of my perceived beauty. I learned the facts of life the hard way. You seem to be lucky. You may learn without scars marring you forever. Be grateful for the easy lesson."

"I'm marred on the inside," Pilar answered swallowing heavily. "That will take a long time healing. Honestly, the way I feel in this moment, I would rather have your scars."

"Come to us if you need to talk; your sister and I will listen," Alana said letting go of Pilar's chin.

-------

By the time Macro came back on deck, the former slaves had been ferried to the jetty. A large crowd had assembled there to welcome their relatives. Laughter and exuberant talk drifted over to the ships. Before they left the jetty with their families, many of the freed Hani waved back at the ships and at those of their former fellow slaves who had elected to stay on board.

Once more, the large pinnace left the quay and approached them. There were three men in the stern of the boat who wore gold chains around their waist. Macro smiled grimly. Old Brugar had the Council worried, no doubt. On his orders, the Guard assembled on deck and the State Cabin was cleared. Anais alerted Thesia and Alana who also appeared on deck.

With a bump and a scrape, the pinnace came alongside and Anais stepped forward to receive the visitors. Brugar was not among them and Thesia filled Macro in quickly.

"Anatar, Embros and Lummis," she whispered. "They represent the metal-working guilds in the Council."

Anatar was the oldest of the three and he spoke first.

"We greet you, Macro of Tanitsar, and we thank you for returning our people. We had prepared a celebration to welcome them and to thank you. Our brother Brugar tells us that you refuse to come ashore, that you even threaten a trade embargo. Why is that?"

"Elderman Anatar, there are two reasons for my refusal to come ashore. From what I learned, you cannot enforce public safety in Helas. Mobs roam the streets freely ransacking the houses of innocent people. Second and more importantly, the enemies of Tanitsar enjoy your hospitality. For as long as the traitors Ebonas and Lithris live here, there can be no friendly ties and no trade between our nations."

"You cannot coerce the Hani, Prince," Anatar said proudly. "We choose whom we offer hospitality and nobody can sway our decisions."

"So be it, worthy Elderman. Since you side with the enemies of Tanitsar, no Hani trader may enter a Tanitsar port from this day on. This includes the trade with Tabar and with Beyreth. We do not trade with the allies of our enemies."

The other two eldermen had listened with growing worry lines on their faces.

"You are rash, young Prince," Lummis said soothingly. "We offered those men hospitality because they had been good partners for us. We do not mean to conspire against your royal father, and I am sure that King Odar would not see it as conspiracy either."

"Those two men financed a rebellion that caused the death of hundreds of our people, among them many friends of my father. My wife, the Princess Alana, lost her father in the upheaval. These men must be handed over to me or, at the very least, refused a safe haven in Hanilei."

"You are young and headstrong, Prince. Take advice from more experienced men. Why don't you confer with your father first?"

Macro gave the man a cold smile. "Perhaps I am headstrong. Perhaps I am rash. What I am not is hypocritical. For decades, the Hani tried to convince us to abandon slavery. Now that we abolished it, you shelter those who fought to uphold it. Six of your citizens have declared that they will not go ashore as long as Ebonas and Lithris live in Hanilei. They have suffered under them, and they will rather return to Tanitsar than breathe the same air as their tormentors."

"There are reasons for this..." the Elderman Embros began.

Macro waved away the explanation. "I am sure that you have reasons. They do not concern me or Tanitsar. Your choice is to harbour our enemies. That is your right as a sovereign nation, but you must bear the consequences, too. There is no middle way. Be our friend or be the friend of the traitors."

"We promised them a safe haven, and we cannot go back on our promises," Anatar said with finality. "You are making a great mistake. What will you do without the ore trade with Hanilei?"

"We don't eat metal," Macro answered dismissively. "Our own craftsmen can satisfy our needs for tools and weapons. We may not have the well crafted tools and jewelry as you provide, but you will find that we can live well without mining ore for your guilds."

"So be it then," Anatar said. "Brugar told us that a number of our citizens want to return to Tanitsar. Can they still meet with their relatives?"

Macro thought briefly. "That is why they came along. Some of them won't go ashore though. Can they perhaps meet their kin on the jetty?"

"We can arrange for that," Anatar answered in a friendlier tone. "We shall have tents erected on the jetty. Can you stay until tomorrow?"

Macro nodded. "Certainly. We shall leave the harbour for the night and return tomorrow."

"Why would you leave the harbour?" Embros asked.

"For safety reasons. There are enemies of Tanitsar living in Helas. The family of my First Wife is threatened by certain elements. I'm afraid that a wooden ship is too vulnerable to cowardly attacks, say with firebrands."

Anatar's head took on the colour of a firebrand itself. "This is a lawful city, and our city guard does not allow violence."

Macro looked at the man. "Unless, of course, it is condoned by your council?"

"You mean Lutar's house, of course. That was a regrettable incident."

"Precisely, Elderman," Macro answered. "You will appreciate that I do not wish to lose my ship or a family member to a similar, regrettable incident."

Edited by Erik Thread



-------

Chapter 14: Returning with a Prize


In spite of everything, Thesia had a lump in her throat as she watched Hanilei's coast line sink below the horizon. Pilar stood at her side.

"I still cannot believe Father's cowardice," she said in a low voice that only Thesia could hear.

Lutar had refused to see his daughters off, being too afraid of possible repercussions.

"It makes me sad," Thesia agreed. "If you think of it, he rarely showed his love to us. When he offered himself to the pirates in exchange for me, I thought he was brave."

Pilar snorted. "Hardly! He told the middleman that he was close to sixty summers old."

"But he's only..." Thesia started.

"Yes. However, the offer of a skilled craftsman of less than fifty summers might have been accepted. He only did it to impress Mother."

Thesia shook herself thinking of her ordeal, but then she realised that she would have never met Macro if she had been exchanged. Those weeks with the pirates had been the price for the happiness she now enjoyed.

"It makes me sad to hear this, but as you said, I came out of it looking good."

"How is Tanitsar?" Pilar asked quickly changing the subject for she was still feeling guilty about her rant a few days ago.

"More hilly, greener than Hanilei. The City of Tanitsar is magnificent. The New Palace is very imposing, though I like Macro's ... I mean our palace better. You will like Macro's brother Lamas and his bride. They live in the other wing of the Princes' Palace."

"I told you – no palace for me. I have to do something worthwhile. Sitting lazily in a palace is not my plan."

Thesia squinted her eyes at her sister. She was obviously serious. An idea struck Thesia.

"Pilar, I may know of a task for you. Macro's mother, Queen Javila, runs the Royal Household. I used to help her out after Macro found me, but now I have so much else to do. You could learn a lot from her. It would mean hard work, don't get me wrong, but being on her good side will help you immensely."

"Do you really think I could be of use?" Pilar asked doubtfully.

"Not in the beginning, and neither was I," Thesia laughed. "Just listen and learn. Javila is a very good teacher and the smartest woman I have ever met."

"Won't Mother need me?"

"Pilar, helping Mother is something you don't want to do. How can you be good at it if you hate it? Working for Javila you would do something that you enjoy."

"And what is that?" Pilar asked curiously.

Thesia actually grinned. "Running things. You love giving orders, you love being in charge."

Pilar's face fell. "Am I really that bad?"

"I did not say that it was a bad thing. You love being in charge. You love taking responsibility. If Javila teaches you how to do it right, you can be very happy and of great benefit to us."

"But if Macro ascends to the throne, you will be First Queen or whatever they'll call you."

"And just who would be better suited to run the Palace for me than my own sister?"

Pilar gaped at her. "You would trust me with such a task?"

"Not yet," Thesia smiled. "I could not do it myself right now. But I trust you to learn and to try your best."

-------

The voyage was swift as the winds favoured the ships. They carried more passengers than anticipated. The opportunities Macro offered had convinced a number of Hani craftsmen and their families to take a chance and start a new existence in Tanitsar, well outside the stifling rule of the guilds.

The Eldermen had been dismayed, to say the least, that, of the two hundred former Hani slaves, sixty-nine chose to return to Tanitsar. In private, Brugar admitted that the Eldermen were questioning the wisdom of offering refuge to the former mine owners. The dispute about the ore trade was unresolved, and the Hani guilds had already sent out ships to find suppliers on the islands to the South, even while Macro's ships were still in harbour.

Macro was slightly worried about the possible outcome and about his father's reaction, but he was relieved that he could at least bring a good number of metal workers with him. Having Eloa on board was an added bonus, the value of which was hard to fathom. The Civil Arts Academy that his father was planning could now educate the next generation of young people in arts that had formerly been considered lost.

Macro had quickly decided that he liked and respected his mother-in-law. Not the least of his admiration stemmed from the fact that she had prepared a salve from ingredients Brugar provided secretly. Every evening and every morning, Eloa rubbed the salve into the scarred skin of Alana's cheek, and even after just a week the contours of the scars were dissolving. Macro did not even see those scars when he was with Alana, but he knew his second wife to be self-conscious about them. Macro realised that the impressive skills Thesia possessed were but a small fraction of Eloa's vast knowledge.

Thesia's sister, Pilar, was an unknown for Macro. True, she had apologised to Thesia and to everybody else with obvious remorse, but Macro could not bring himself to trust the silver-haired girl yet. Her envy of Thesia had been blatant and Thesia's red eyes when they emerged from the sleeping cabin after their confrontation had not made Pilar his favourite either. Yet, when he looked at the girl, he felt an attraction that he could not deny to himself. Part of it was her likeness to the woman Macro loved, but there was more and that bothered him.

°°°

"Land ho!"

The call of the lookout made Macro come on deck. Three days ago they had arrived at Tabar, touching land for the first time since sailing from Hanilei. Tabar had been quiet during the civil strife. For once the Steward of Tabar had kept the reins in his hands, even subduing a small group of lesser nobles who had foolishly tried to take over the harbour fortifications.

Macro had visited the Steward's palace, allowing the man to make formal acquaintance of the Princesses. The Steward and his extended family had been quite proud of the visit.

But now they were approaching Tanitsar proper, and he could see the white marble of the New Palace. Drawing closer, Macro could even see the lower Princes' Palace, his home.

Thesia came on deck with her mother and sister, showing them their future home. Macro joined them pointing out places of interest.

Alana showed too. Her left cheek was slightly reddish from the application of the salve, but it looked so much better. Macro kissed her other cheek. Eloa had cautioned him of the effect the salve might have on his lips.

"We are showing Eloa and Pilar the most important buildings."

Alana smiled. "Did you show them the Academy building?"

"Which one?" Macro asked raising his eyebrows.

"The new Civil Arts Academy," Alana replied archly. She looked at Eloa. "If you look to the left of the New Palace and a little down the hill, there is a red sandstone building with the domed centre. That will be the new academy."

Thesia gasped. "That's your father's palace!"

Alana smiled sadly. "Can you think of any use for this palace that my father would have approved more? Learning the law, the languages, the healing arts – all that meant so much to him. This is how I want him remembered, and not as the unwilling, unfitting pretender."

Macro hugged Alana from behind. "Are you quite certain that you want this?"

Alana nodded emphatically.

"I would think that the 'Prince Elbar Academy' will be an apt name for it."

Alana spun around in his arms. "Are you serious?"

"My father will like it. He and your father were friends when all was told."

"It would mean so much to me!" Alana whispered.

"We'll have a statue of him for the entrance hall," Macro said. "A statue of him with his beloved scrolls in his arms."

Thesia came closer and whispered into Alana's ear. Alana blushed first, but then she laughed.

"Absolutely!" she answered.

Macro looked his question, but Thesia slid up against his body and whispered in his ear. "We just decided that you will be a very happy prince tonight."

Macro's grin extended to his ears. Thesia grinned back. Pilar could not resist cracking a joke.

"By the way, do not bother to found a 'Lutar Centre of the Crafts'. Thesia and I can make do without his memory."

That caused laughter all around. In the meantime, the leading caravelle was approaching the fortified entrance of the harbour. From the citadel they could hear the prescribed number of gongs, nineteen, sounding over the entire harbour and the city and signalling the approach of members of the royal family. Odar himself commanded twenty-one gongs.

Lamas greeted them at the head of a half column of Royal Guards. Anais was first over the side to report to her superior. When Macro stepped down onto the quay with the two princesses and Thesia's family, the guards in the black tunics and blackened body armour saluted stiffly.

Despite it being a workday, many citizens watched and cheered Macro and his wives as they walked the wide Harbour Street towards the Princes' Palace. Many of them showed the tattoos or brands of former slaves, but there were enough ordinary citizens among the cheerers to signal the change that Tanitsar was undergoing.

The Princes' Palace was still guarded heavily, but Lamas had moved their belongings back from the New Palace. As they walked, he told Macro to be prepared for another wedding two weeks hence. Jolia was eager to join Lamas as soon as possible and with Procopius' grudging permission she was already living in Macro's old rooms in what was now Lamas's wing of the palace.

She was there to greet them too. Macro hugged her spontaneously and she beamed back at him laughing happily. Then Thesia and Alana were at the receiving end of her hugs, and after a hurried introduction, Eloa and Pilar were next.

Macro and Thesia looked at each other and smiled. Gone were Jolia's drab and shapeless robes. The new Jolia wore a simply cut robe of heavy, red silk, contrasting beautifully with her dark brown hair. With an inward smile, Macro acknowledged that there had always been a female body hidden under those ugly robes. Lamas, the sly rascal, must have known this. No way his brother wanted to marry Jolia for her brains only. He turned to his brother.

"Do you realise how lucky you are? Ugly and dumb as you are, you still get the smartest and most beautiful girl Tanitsar can offer."

Lamas laughed. "Don't I know this! I need to marry her quickly before the potions wear off and she sees clearly again."

"Stop that, you two!" Jolia huffed. "I would think that you, Macro, are in an odd position to accuse your brother of being lucky."

"So true, Jolia," Macro laughed. He turned to Lamas. "How are our father and mother?"

"They are both fine. Odar seems a little tired lately, but he's probably worked too much. Javila is busy as usual. With Thesia gone, she will need a new helper."

Thesia nudged Pilar forward. "Lamas, my sister, Pilar, could help your mother. She wants a task, and I could not think of a better teacher."

Lamas appraised the silver-haired young woman. "I hope that you know what you're getting into, Pilar. Thesia was so desperate to escape Mother that she was willing to marry Macro."

That earned him a swat from Jolia, but they all laughed. Pilar looked at them shaking her head.

"What?" Thesia asked, noticing her look.

"You are all so normal. My fiancé's family never laughed or joked. They were all about business decisions and gold."

"Be grateful that you escaped them," Alana advised. "I too had never known friendly banter in my youth. My father was a friendly man, but he never joked."

Lamas's eyes narrowed, looking at Alana, and he blurted out his question before his brain could catch up with his vocal chords. "What happened to your face, Alana? Your scars, they're almost gone!"

Alana only blushed slightly. "The Priestess Eloa has prepared a salve for me. My scars are not showing that much anymore."

"Not showing much?" Lamas expostulated. "They're gone. I mean, not that they were that prominent, they were just..."

His voice faltered with his realisation that he had put his foot solidly into his mouth. Jolia laughed.

"That's my fiancé, the man of the world. Forgive him, Alana, he's just a man."

-------

"Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, my King!" the chamberlain announced.

Macro stepped into the council hall. Odar was there, as were Regula and Javila, the Chief Envoy and several other officials.

"Welcome home, my son!" Odar exclaimed. "What news do you bring?"

"Mixed news, my Father and King," Macro answered. "I fear that our relationship with Hanilei is damaged."

The men at the table began to ask agitated questions, but Odar held up his hand. "Let my son give his report first!"

Macro smiled and bowed. "The bad news first. The traitors, Ebonas and Lithris, were granted a safe haven in Hanilei and they seem to conspire against us, claiming continued ownership of the ore mines."

"That is indeed grave, Macro," Odar said. "Did you tell the Eldermen of the charges against these men?"

"I did, my King, but to no avail. I broke off the talks of new ore shipping contracts to show them that we are serious. They still remained adamant. Ebonas and Lithris are indeed honoured guests, if not more.

"There is more. Brugar's plans to resurrect the Temple of Helas have met with fierce resistance by the other Eldermen. They incited mobs to burn the house of Thesia's father, and Brugar had to shelter the Priestess Eloa and her older daughter, whilst Lutar abandoned his wife."

"That is quite regrettable," Odar opined. "I wish we had foreseen this turn of events. We could have offered our hospitality to the priestess."

Macro smiled. "This is the good news, my King. The Priestess has agreed to accompany us to Tanitsar and to assume a position as Mentor in the planned Civil Arts Academy. I foresee immense gains for us once she trains healers.

"I was also able to recruit more than two dozen craftsmen and artisans from Hanilei who were disgruntled with the guilds. In fact, including some former slaves and their relatives, over one hundred Hani returned with us. I offered them a tax relief for the first three years."

The treasurer perked up. "Three years?"

"I was thinking that they will spend the money they earn in Tanitsar. You will get the revenue from other channels."

"It is important to establish metal working in Tanitsar," Odar said. "I commend the Prince for his actions. Now, what about the ore trade?"

"I took it upon myself to declare an embargo on metals and ore, my King, for as long as the Hani will shelter the traitors. I assume the Hani will look south for other sources. I am certain that they will come crawling back to us in time. We drove away the pirates from around here, but south of Hanilei they are still strong. The Hani will lose many ships."

"And our income from the ore trade, Prince?" the treasurer asked.

"We already have metal workers on Tanitsar who will buy ore, and I brought more from Helas. Also, the mine owners always brushed off our Northern neighbours, favouring Hanilei instead. I propose to send trade envoys to the Thousand Islands and to Nipom to establish ties. We may well recoup our losses that way."

"There is something to that," the treasurer conceded.

"Anyway, we must do something to mend fences with Hanilei," the Chief Envoy spoke up. "They are the centre of our civilisation. Alienated from them, we can only suffer. Think of their financial power!"

"Sheltering those traitors is a hostile act," Regula said firmly. "I agree with Prince Macro. They cannot be friends with those renegades and with us at the same time. You are right, Chief Envoy, that they have gold. However, without our mines their supply of gold and silver will dwindle away and with that, their power.

"Besides, the centre of civilisation may shift," she continued. "The Hani civilisation was founded on the Temple, and the Temple was destroyed. Our planned Academy may well become the new centre of civilisation. Tanitsar can take Hanilei's place. Of course, if they make conciliatory gestures such as expelling those renegades, we can open the door again. However and for now, I recommend to keep up the embargo Prince Macro declared."

"This is not something to be decided rashly," Odar said. "I shall weigh your arguments, and we shall reconvene tomorrow, my friends."

Most of the council members stood to leave. Odar stayed Macro. "Macro, my son, please join us for the evening meal with your wives and your other kin."

"With pleasure, my father. Should Lamas bring Jolia too?"

"Yes, by all means."

"I shall bring one additional guest."

"Do I know him or her?"

"Yes, you do." Macro looked about. They were alone, save for Javila and Regula. "Father, Mother, my wives and I have offered Anais to join us. I care for her, and she is good friends with Thesia. Even Alana has taken to her. Do you have objections?"

"Let me ponder this, son," Odar answered cautiously. "Bring the girl along anyway. I cannot see how I can refuse her, seeing that she saved my life at the Main Gate. Just let me think about it."

"Certainly, Father. Mother, what do you say?"

"You know my mind already. You were taken by her when you first saw her. The time may be right now. Is she in agreement?"

"Very much so, Mother."

"Bring her tonight, my son. Do not forget to ask Ronan for permission to court his daughter."

"I won't. Oh, by the way, be prepared for a surprise when you will see Alana tonight. Thesia's mother prepared a special salve for her, and her scars are receding. One can hardly see them anymore."

"She can heal old burns?" Javila asked incredulously. "Think of the brands that the former slaves carry. It would be wonderful to help those poor people."

"You can ask her tonight. Oh, and Mother, Thesia had this idea. Her sister, Pilar, wants a worthwhile task. Would you be willing to try her as your apprentice?"

"I have to talk to her. If she is anything like Thesia, it will be my win."

-------

Anais was clearly nervous. For one, she was wearing a robe instead of her uniform, and secondly, Macro had told the King and his mother of his plans to take Anais as his Third Wife. The shoes she had to wear with the robe were dainty, lacking the robust support her boots offered, and she stumbled slightly on the cobble stones.

"Let me help you," Alana said, suddenly appearing at her side. "Give me your arm."

Of course, Alana glided over the cobbled streets without effort. Gratefully, Anais hooked her arm into Alana's.

"Thank you, Alana."

"You will be my sister-wife soon. We will have to stand up for one another and for Macro. Thesia is already my dearest friend, and I am beginning to like you."

"You were afraid of me, weren't you?"

"In the beginning, yes," Alana sighed. "I saw how you looked at Macro and I was your rival. And of course, you have this perfect face. No scars, you know. I resented your beauty. Eloa's salve also cured that feeling."

Anais shook her head. "I always thought that you were beautiful, scars or no scars. And I know that Macro loved you already before we even sailed for Hanilei."

Suddenly, Anais felt her arm pressed fiercely.

"He is a wonderful man, and we will all make him as happy as he deserves." She sighed. "Now for the hard part. We're there."

They stepped through the main entrance of the palace to be received by the Chamberlain. Anais already knew the small dinner hall from her first visit to the palace almost two years ago. To her surprise, Ronan and her mother Teichi were already there. What a difference a few months had made. Teichi was now wearing a heavy silk dress from her homeland, Nipom, and a heavy gold necklace had taken the place of her slave collar. After all, she was Teichi, Commander Ronan's wife and a frequent guest at the King's table.

Alana let go of her arm, and Anais flew into her parents' arms. They had not seen each other for more than three months, but the fierce hugs she received conveyed more.

"You already know?" she asked them.

"I have a good idea," Ronan smiled proudly. "You, my daughter, fill us with happiness."

Of course, introductions had to be made between her parents and Thesia's mother and sister. When Eloa learned that Teichi was privy to the Nipom healing arts, the women quickly arranged for a private meeting in the next days. Ronan regarded his wife with pride.

Then the queens entered the hall. Javila held back and let her sister queens make the acquaintance first. When it was her turn, she kissed her son's wives first, and then hugged a blushing Anais, making her approval clear.

Then she came face to face with Eloa. The two women studied each other for a few heart beats. They must have reached some unspoken agreement, because Javila opened her arms to hug Thesia's mother.

"Welcome to Tanitsar, learned Eloa. We were delighted to learn of your arrival."

Eloa gave a friendly smile in return. "I too am delighted over meeting the woman who changed Tanitsar so thoroughly."

Javila sputtered a little, but then she grinned openly. "I shall enjoy speaking with you often. I see now where your daughter inherited her quick wit."

Eloa bowed slightly and took Pilar's arm. "Queen Javila, this is my daughter, Pilar."

Again, Javila took her time studying the silver-haired girl. Pilar still wore her hair in a bun, like she had done since her first evening on board the Royal Caravelle. She returned the look frankly and blushing only slightly.

"I hear that you wish to enter my service, Pilar?" Javila asked with a guarded smile.

"My sister suggested it, my Queen, and I should be proud and happy to learn from you."

"Why do I have the feeling that your answer would have been different a month ago?"

Pilar looked down. "I came to my senses, my Queen."

Javila sighed. "You are quite pretty, Pilar, and as men are, you probably had enough attention to go to your head. Some young women never get past this. Tell Macro when you feel ready, and we can try whether we are compatible."

"Thank you, my Queen."

"Two things, Pilar: One, call me Javila. We are kin after all. Two, let your hair down again. Being beautiful is not bad in itself."

A few minutes later, Odar joined them, making a point to welcome Eloa. As a matter of fact, he claimed, he had once seen her at the Hanilei Temple when he was a young soldier and serving the Don of Hanilei.

They sat for the evening meal. Odar was an attentive host, giving much attention to his guests. When they had finished eating, Macro stood.

"My Father, Mother, dear relatives and friends. This evening, I have to ask a favour from my old friend and brother in arms. Ronan, I speak for your daughter, Anais. My wives have agreed to accept her as their sister-wife, and I wish for her to be my Third Wife. Do you find it in your heart to give Anais away to me?"

Ronan stood, keeping Teichi's hand clasped in his own.

"My friend and brother in arms has asked me for my daughter. In all my years as a soldier, I have never met a better man. I believe that my daughter will be very happy with him. My Prince, I give you my blessing."

Odar stood. "My son has spoken for the Maid Anais, and her father, the worthy Ronan, is in agreement. As you all know, I owe my life to Anais' valour. There is hardly a better maid to join with Macro and his wives. I give my consent."

Thesia stood next. "I shall welcome Anais as my sister-wife."

Alana was next, and she repeated Thesia's words. Anais sat with shining eyes, looking slightly dazed. She gave herself a visible push and stood.

"I shall gladly join the Prince Macro in marriage, and I am grateful to the Princesses Thesia and Alana for their acceptance and friendship."

Odar stood again. "It is settled, then. Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, and the Maid Anais, Troop Leader in my Royal Guards, are promised to each other."

Now the goblets were raised to drink to the betrothed couple, and Anais had to switch chairs with Alana so that she could sit at Macro's left side for the rest of the evening. Alana spoke then whilst she was still standing.

"My King, dear kinspeople and friends, as you know, I inherited the palace that my father owned here in Tanitsar. I have no real need for it, but rather than seeing it sold or fall to ruin, I wish to give it a use of which my father would have approved.

"There has been talk to build a new Civil Arts Academy. The learned Eloa has agreed to teach our young in the ancient arts, and I know others who can contribute to teaching as well. My father always delighted in collecting and dispensing knowledge. He would be pleased to see his house turned into a school, especially a school of civil science and arts. I therefore offer the Palace of Clonal as seat for the new academy."

In a flash, Javila stood and embraced Alana. "This is a wonderful idea, dearest Alana. We could name it 'Princess Alana Academy' if you agree."

Macro cleared his throat. "I think that Alana would much prefer if it were named 'Prince Elbar Academy', if my King allows that."

Odar weighed that for a moment before he smiled and nodded. "Your father, Alana, was a learned man more than anything else. It would be fitting if he were remembered by his contribution to science and arts. I accept your offer, Alana, and we shall charter the academy in your father's name. Will you, in turn, govern the academy?"

Alana blushed deeply with pride. "I should feel honoured, my King!"

The rest of the evening was spent in animated discussion. Individuals were named to fill the roster of teachers. The funding of the school was discussed and Odar pledged some of the proceeds from the mines. When they finally rose from the table, Javila cornered Pilar once more.

"How was your first impression of palace politics?"

Pilar looked a little bit flushed. "It was exciting, my ... Javila. I never thought a king would be open to the opinions of others."

"Odar is. His is the final decision, but he listens to reason. That is why he is still king."

"One thing I wanted to ask. Why does everybody put such great value in Mother's teaching?"

"Think of it, Pilar. Why do you value gold?"

"It's pretty."

Javila shook her head. "Personally, I am more partial to silver. Still, gold has a higher value. Why?"

"It's rare too."

"Correct, my dear. Now, how many of the priests and priestesses are still alive, to our knowledge?"

"Oh, Mother is rare."

"Oh, your mother is rare all right," Javila laughed. "What she knows, is known only to her. This knowledge, therefore, is rare. And many people will gladly pay high fees to send their children to Tanitsar, to partake of the rare knowledge. Other bright minds will want to associate themselves with your mother and the academy. Great minds have great ideas. Great ideas will translate into finding new ways to do things, to produce goods for trade. Think of the salve your mother prepared for Alana. Think how much people will pay for such a salve.

"Knowledge and learning are the key to future success, Pilar. If we can be the centre of learning, we will influence the future. That is why we are excited."

Pilar nodded. "I think I understand. The young people who attend the academy will be educated according to Tanitsar's ideals, even if they come from abroad. They will think like the future leaders of Tanitsar."

Javila nodded appreciatively. "You have good head, Pilar. Don't let it get clouded again, and you can be a future leader yourself."

Edited by Erik Thread



-------

Chapter 15: Pilar


A week later, Pilar started in her new role as Javila's assistant. In the first weeks Javila mostly used her as a go-between, as a messenger, a pair of young legs attached to a good memory. Pilar did not mind that. She enjoyed the walks between places, and she did not mind the time spent in anterooms waiting to deliver messages. Those waits were never long anyway. As Javila's messenger she had precedence over most other visitors.

Javila arranged for her to have business at the Vice-regent's Palace most noon times, allowing Pilar to take the noon meal with Macro, Thesia, Alana, and Jolia, who all worked there. Jolia, of course, was the Princess Jolia now, married to the Nº 2 in the line of succession, but she still performed her duties as legal advisor to the Vice-regent.

Thesia and Alana were busy completing a compilation of the history of Tanitsar. Out of interest, Eloa visited almost daily, delighting in the study of the old scriptures, a pleasure she'd had to forego for over two decades, with the exception of the four scrolls she had saved from the burning temple of Helas.

When Pilar did not run errands for Javila, she had to familiarise herself with the household staff of the New Palace, study the inventory, and meet most of the merchants who had the privilege of doing business with the Royal Court. That was the easiest part for Pilar. She had tried to learn as much as possible about running a household when she was engaged to the future headman of the silversmiths. The Palace operated on a much larger scale, but her skills came to bear.

The impending wedding of Macro and Anais further added to her work, for Javila and Regula organised the festivities. Once Pilar had shown her dependability and usefulness, Javila delegated many tasks to her, mostly with regard to the festive dinner to be held after the wedding. It was late in the evenings before Pilar could stagger to her bedroom in the New Palace.

The wedding itself was memorable for Pilar. She had a seat among the ranking officers of the realm, far up front and together with her mother. With all the organising, she'd completely forgotten to get appropriate clothing for herself, something that would have never happened to the "old" Pilar. A smiling Eloa had handed her a wonderful dress of blue moleskin that showed off Pilar's light skin and silver hair to utmost advantage. She learned that Javila had ordered the dress, and it made her proud that the Queen, her mentor, had deemed her worthy of such consideration.

From her seat close to the front, Pilar watched as the vows were spoken. She felt a little jealousy, seeing the obvious closeness her sister had with Alana and Anais, a closeness that Pilar had lost after their childhood.

At the wedding dinner, Pilar had little time for such thoughts. She flitted between Javila and the kitchen staff, delivering orders and information. She inspected the foods and wines delivered from outside the palace. She also took it upon herself to reallocate the staff wherever extra help was needed. Her moment of glory came, however, when Macro stood to address the guests. Javila beckoned Pilar to come and stand close to her. Macro thanked his father and Anais' father, he thanked Thesia and Alana for accepting Anais, and he thanked the queens for their efforts. Lastly, he raised his glass and looked at Pilar.

"We also have to thank Princess Thesia's sister, Pilar. As my mother told me, she worked tirelessly to make this celebration a memorable one. Pilar, would you please step up to us?"

With a deep blush, Pilar stood and approached Macro. Thesia stood too, an open box in her hand. From the box, Macro took a thin platinum tiara, studded with rubies and sapphires, and placed it in Pilar's silver hair. It looked nothing less than magnificent. Thesia held her at arm's length.

"Who is beautiful now?" she asked.

Pilar gave her sister an emotional hug. "You are, Thesia, but you make me feel like I might be beautiful too."

"Do you know the meaning of this tiara?" Thesia asked. Pilar shook her head.

"It is the head dress of a Lady in Waiting. This makes you an appointed officer of the court."

Her mouth agape, Pilar looked at her mentor, and Javila nodded benevolently. An incredible feeling of accomplishment warmed Pilar from her core. With hard work and using her natural skills, she had achieved something. Not only the outward recognition symbolised by her appointment, but the approval from the people that counted.

For a brief moment, Pilar remembered how shallow she had been just six months ago. It was almost ironic that being dropped by her fiancé opened up this road for her. Pilar already knew much about the Royal Court. An officer of the court received a salary of one thousand guilders each year. True, the dresses she needed had to come out of that, but her income was still more than Lelis received from his father.

"I will do my best to justify this appointment," she promised, her voice a little unsteady unsteady with the emotion she felt.

"I know you will, Pilar," Thesia answered with a proud smile.

As the evening progressed, the mood in the Great Hall became increasingly joyous. A part of the hall was cleared of tables, and people began to dance to the music of an orchestra hired for the occasion. Macro started with Anais, of course, but he danced with Thesia and Alana too. Odar took each of the queens for a dance while the newly wed Lamas and Jolia had eyes only for each other.

Pilar watched the dance with longing. She had always enjoyed dancing, but she had come to the feast by herself. She stood to the side of the dance floor, swaying gently with the music, when suddenly a tall man stood in front of her.

"Will you dance with me, Worthy Pilar?"

It was the first time somebody addressed her with the "Worthy" prefix to which she was now entitled, and it almost made her giggle. She took in the appearance of the man in front of her and corrected her first impression. He was not overly tall, but his posture made him look that way. She knew him from somewhere.

"We met in Hanilei last summer when you were engaged to Lelis. I am Trebo, Tergus's son."

Now, Pilar recognised him. He was living in Hanilei to make friends and contacts among the merchants and guilds. His father was Tergus, the Chief Envoy, and a great admirer of all things in Hanilei. If she remembered correctly, Trebo had fit right in with the sons of the rich merchants. Now he had obviously returned to Tanitsar.

She nodded graciously and offered her hand. Trebo led her to the dance floor. He was a good dancer, leading her effortlessly, and she enjoyed the dance.

"Did you return from Hanilei for good?" she asked while they glided over the floor.

"Only for a brief visit. It is a sacrifice to live here. By the way, Lelis sends his greetings."

Pilar raised her eyebrows. "He does?"

"Oh, he hasn't forgotten you. He is still hurting from the enforced split."

"It was he who broke the engagement," Pilar answered with barely concealed anger. To her surprise, the slight still barbed her.

"Ah yes, but he had to. He's trying to fix things, though. That's why I'm here. You see, if he could argue that you are serving Hanilei, he might be able to persuade his father to accept you again."

Pilar's first reaction was amusement. She had just been appointed an Officer of the Royal Court, she was the confidante of a queen, and her own sister was a future queen. Still, Lelis thought that she pined over the broken engagement and wanted him back? She did not show that amusement, though. Her mind worked quickly, sharpened by the months under Javila's tutorship.

"What service can I render that could sway Lelis's father?" she rather asked.

"The Eldermen are deeply concerned over the rift in the relations with Tanitsar. They want to reconcile with the King and his son. It would help them greatly if somebody on the inside would give them news of how their proposals are discussed within the royal family, who opposes reconciliation for what reasons and who is for it."

"I am not on the Crown Council," Pilar temporised. "And would that not be treason? Why not ask your father?"

"I know my father's mind, but he does not speak about what goes on behind closed doors. Nor do we ask you to commit treason. As you say, you are not on the Council. No, we'd just like to hear the gossip from the Royal Court, the mood, things that are not confidential. It would be good for both countries. Without Hanilei, Tanitsar will soon wither away."

Again, Pilar did not show her amusement. If anything, the revenue from the mines and from the new smelting ovens was exceeding the earnings of the ore trade in the years past. She shrugged.

"I can keep my ears open. To whom do I pass this information?"

"Write letters to me through my father. I shall return to Hanilei shortly. Letters and non-contraband goods are still shipped. Keep your ears open. In two weeks the Eldermen will send a compromise proposal to resolve the quarrel. You give us reliable information and I may yet see you as Lelis's wife!"

It was hard, but Pilar managed to control her face. She put on a dreamy expression that seemed to satisfy Trebo.

"I shall try," she managed to sigh.

-------

"There has to be more to this, Pilar," Javila opined.

"I thought so too," Pilar answered. "If it had just been about some palace gossip, Trebo could pick that up from some servant girl. I think they want me to start this to compromise me. Then, when I have given them intelligence, they may try to blackmail me into doing more for them."

Javila gave her protégé a wolfish grin.

"But anticipating this, we could play them to our heart's content. We can feed them all we want them to know or think."

Pilar raised her eyebrows. "You wish for me to play along?"

Javila sighed. "I cannot order you to do that. If you agree, I shall record that you work for the King, and you will not be incriminated. As a matter of fact, I shall speak to Odar this afternoon to get his approval. I will also inform Macro and Lamas. Thus, if something should happen to me you will still stand exonerated if the Hani do not play fair."

Pilar fidgeted a little. "Could you tell Thesia too? I could not bear it if she thought I was betraying her family."

"I'll let Macro tell her if you feel strongly about this. Are you willing?"

Pilar nodded.

"Then there is another thing. You are on the small and frail side, yet you may have to meet secretly with people who move in the shadows. There is a Master of Hand Combat in the palace. He is from Nipom, and he has served us well for years. You will meet him and work with him. He will teach you how to defend yourself."

"Is that possible? I always thought I was too small and weak."

"I hear that he is a tasking teacher, but he is very good. Commit to those lessons as well as you do to your other duties, and you will be prepared for almost anything."

-------

Kiochi was a small, wiry man who was barely taller than Pilar. She guessed him to be at least sixty years old, and his face was wrinkled like a dried wine berry. He also was the most composed person Pilar had ever met. He spent the first half hour of their acquaintance just walking around Pilar, making her lift a book off the table, making her bend over, making her run a few steps. Then he sat down on the soft mat on the floor of his chamber and bade her do the same.

"The wise Queen Javila has charged me with teaching you in the sacred arts of combat. It will be difficult, yet doable if you willingly submit to my teaching. Many things you will only understand later when you have gained the insight, but they are necessary. Are you willing?"

"Yes, Master," Pilar answered, as Javila had instructed her.

"I shall address you as Silver Willow, and I shall teach you how to bend like a willow branch in the wind and how to snap back into the faces of those who foolishly try to break you. First, I want you to braid your hair tightly at all times. Later, I shall teach you how to use your braid as a weapon."

Obediently, Pilar tied her silver-blonde hair into a tight braid that reached almost to the small of her back.

"Now, take off your clothes and stand," he casually instructed her.

Pilar gasped and hesitated. The old man's wrinkled face formed a smile.

"You must become unconcerned with your body. Otherwise, an opponent may use your shamefulness against you simply by tearing your clothes."

With a deep breath Pilar complied, taking off her robe and her small clothes. She felt exposed and vulnerable, standing naked before the old man, but he paid no attention to her discomfort. Instead, he nodded approvingly and chuckled.

"You would make a truly great assassin, Silver Willow! Naked like this, you could walk unhindered through the guards of the palace and kill the king."

Smiling wryly Pilar shook her head. "Not when Anais commands the Guards," she said to which the old man smiled.

"Ronan's daughter, eh? I agree. I would have loved to teach her, dedicated as she is. Let us begin though. Just follow my example."

With that, the old man began a series of exercises, aimed at stretching and bending the body to its very limits. Within minutes Pilar felt exhaustion, but Kiochi never let up until an hour had been spent. Pilar's entire body ached, and sweat covered her skin from head to toe. In her overwhelming tiredness, being naked not even bothered her any more.

"Come!" Kiochi ordered, leading her to a neighbouring chamber. There was a stone table and a heated bath tub. The stone table too was heated from below with multiple scented oil lamps. He bade Pilar lie on the smooth surface. She was too tired to argue, even too tired to flinch or protest when his hands touched her body. With deft hands, he kneaded the muscles of her legs and back. When he ordered her to lie on her back, she did not even feel self-conscious anymore, exposing her breasts and sex to the old man. His fingers, when they massaged her thighs, never strayed towards her groin, and she relaxed, even when he massaged the muscles under her small breasts.

"Now lie in the tub," he ordered, and for the next half hour, she soaked in the hot, scented water while Kiochi went through many series of movements that looked like ritualised fighting scenes. She watched him intently. When he was finished, he made a hand sign for her to stand up.

"Dress now. Be back tomorrow at the same time!" he dismissed her.

Pilar returned to her usual tasks, barely able to walk. The gruelling exercises, the massage, and the hot bath had drained all the strength from her limbs. It was good that she could work at her desk, compiling the expenditures for the last months, excluding the separately stated costs of the wedding. Javila ran a tight ship, and she strove never to exceed the allowance Odar had set for the running of the palace.

Later that afternoon an unexpected visitor showed. The door opened and Thesia stood before Pilar's desk. Pilar rose quickly, only to find herself in her younger sister's hug.

"Macro told me," she whispered. "Be careful. I need my sister."

In a heartbeat the exhaustion was gone. Pilar hugged Thesia back with feeling.

"Have you been told the whole story?" she asked and Thesia nodded.

"Macro said you would be schooled in combat."

"Don't ask!" Pilar groaned. "I had my first lesson already, and the man aims to kill me."

"If it's anything like the exercises Anais told us about, the first weeks will be the hardest. She asked me to tell you that everybody goes through this, men and women, tall and small, stocky or thin. The instructors always manage to run them into the ground. Oh, and this is from me – you can do anything if you put your heart into it."

Pilar nodded. "How is Anais?"

"She's part of us," Thesia replied simply. "She's grumpy too, having to give up her troop in the Guards. It has got so bad that Macro talked to Lamas. She is allowed to exercise with the Guards again."

Pilar shook her head. "She is astonishing. She can be frightening too."

Thesia laughed. "Did Alana ever tell you how Anais broke into her chamber at the fortress of Patris, dragging her out of the castle? Alana was certain that Anais had come to kill her, seeing that she had killed two of Alana's uncles already. The poor Alana! She was so afraid."

"Alana afraid? That is hard to believe."

"You haven't seen Anais yet when she is splattered with blood and gore. I have been her friend for quite a while, and I found her frightening sometimes. She's kind and gentle though when you encounter her in less warlike circumstances."

Thesia's smug smile was hard to misinterpret, and Pilar gaped at her sister.

"You and Anais?" she asked, unable to control the furious blush.

"Yes, and Alana. Don't forget her," Thesia replied. "We're a family, Pilar, all of us. Anais and Alana are my sister-wives. This is not just some lip service to custom. I know you think of this as some sort of harem set up, but it isn't. Macro claims that he loved me first and that he loves me foremost, and that may even be true, but I do not care. I love him, but I love my sister-wives too. I also love it that Macro loves them."

Pilar looked at her sister, trying to understand. "How will you feel when he picks a fourth? I mean, it may well be that he has to take a fourth wife for reasons of state."

"We have talked about it. We'll try to open our hearts to her. We'll give her a chance to be part of the family. Who knows? Perhaps, she will be the missing fifth of our marriage?"

"You are strange, Thesia," Pilar smiled. "I'm glad that you are happy with this. Myself, I'll rather stay away from men."

Edited by Erik Thread



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Chapter 16: Deep Waters


Indeed, as Trebo had predicted, an envoy from Hanilei arrived in Tanitsar a month after Anais' wedding. It was Lelis of all people, Pilar's wayward fiancé. He was received by the Chief Envoy Tergus and delivered a note from the Eldermen.

Pilar saw him as he left Tergus' offices an hour later. As planned with Javila, she walked along the corridors just as Lelis stepped out. There was an awkward silence at first. Pilar stared at him wordlessly.

"Pilar! You here, in the Royal Palace?" Lelis exclaimed as if he had not known that.

"Lelis! You here, in the Royal Palace?" Pilar answered snidely. Javila and Pilar had agreed that she was to treat him with disdain. He had abandoned her after all. To forgive him readily would look suspicious, for one. Treating him brusquely would also give Pilar the upper hand. After all, he wanted something from her!

"Are you still angry with me?" he asked.

What a stupid question! Pilar asked herself what she had ever seen in this man. She snorted.

"No, not really. The thought of being tied down in a marriage with you instead of this," she spread her arms, indicating the grandeur of the New Palace, "is silly now."

He was clearly taken aback. "I thought you cared for me," he pouted, looking quite childish.

"Well ... and I thought you cared for me. Isn't life full of surprises?"

"Didn't Trebo tell you? I do care for you, Pilar. When my father ordered me to break the engagement, I was crestfallen."

Pilar almost laughed. He had been so crestfallen that he had to console himself with one of Pilar's former friends. She put a pout on her lips, though.

"How do you think I felt? First you dumped me, then my father abandoned us. For weeks, we lived with the Elderman Brugar and then, of all people, my little sister shows up as a princess! Crestfallen? Hah! Try humiliated!"

"Oh Pilar, I'm sorry, really. But you know, maybe we can still have a future. Did Trebo tell you? I just delivered a proposal to end the quarrel between us and Tanitsar. We need to know how it is received within the royal family."

"Yes, but I will only relay the gossip as I hear it. Queen Javila trusts me, and I am an officer of the court. I shall not risk that on the vague chance that your father might reconsider."

There, she had laid out the bait. Was there a smirk on Lelis face? If yes, he covered it quickly.

"Just the gossip, Pilar. It's only so that I can claim that you secretly work for Hanilei, to convince my father."

Pilar nodded, as if swayed. "Go now, Lelis, before we are discovered!" she urged him as if concerned for his well-being.

She watched him as he strode along the corridor and around the corner leading him to the guard house, and a disdainful smile played around her lips. The fool really thought she'd forgiven him! Ha! He'd learn her mind soon enough.

"Don't discount him as stupid yet, or the people who pull his strings," Javila's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Mayhap he is laughing at you right this minute, having made you believe his "stupid" act was real."

Pilar turned to her mentor and lowered her head. "You are right, Javila. Knowing him, I cannot think of him as a mastermind, but the people behind him may be. I shall be less arrogant."

If she felt any arrogance, Kiochi surely drove that out of her in their afternoon session. They had graduated from strength building exercises to simple strikes and blocks. Simple for Kiochi, that was. To Pilar it felt as if she had bruises on top of her bruises from blocking his lightning jabs and from having her own strikes blocked. Yet she remained committed, and Kiochi showed some grudging respect when the session ended.

The hot bath afterwards restored her somewhat, to the point that she could get some work finished. That done, she visited with Queen Regula under some pretence, picking up the harmless gossip from the attending chambermaids. Regula made a few remarks about the proposal delivered by Lelis, discounting it as a first offer that would be upped later in negotiations.

Pilar was to have no knowledge of Hanilei's proposal, something Javila and she had agreed upon. If she did not know, she could not slip. Instead, she soaked up the remarks and memorised them for later reference. She visited with Javila too before the queen retired to the private royal quarters, and Javila spoke casually of the proposal as if the two of them were not in collusion.

Then, when the queens withdrew to the private wing of the palace, Pilar sat at supper with the other courtiers. The rumours and gossip here were more open but also far less accurate, as Pilar knew. Nevertheless, she memorised the main topics.

That evening, she sat down and wrote a brief report of what she had heard, under the day's date. She filled almost an entire page with her precise, small handwriting, and she chuckled inwardly thinking that very senior officials would pore over her gossip collection, desperate to find clues.

The next day, the rumour mill at the palace was in full swing. King Odar had discussed the Hanilei proposal with the Queens at the breakfast table, and the servants ran their mouths. Inwardly, Pilar was appalled that the royal family had no privacy at all, even with only their confidential servants around. When she commented to Javila, the Queen smiled sardonically.

"If they can't gossip, they can't feel important. In this case, it will help your cause."

"I still cannot see what they can gain by making me report gossip," Pilar mused. "Of course, the fact that I write down the gossip may make me vulnerable to blackmail, but it's so minor compared with real treason."

Javila thought about it. "You may have something, Pilar. What if they don't want you to spy?"

Pilar's eyes narrowed. "You mean, they just want to establish some contact with me? And then, what?"

"I don't know. We need to confer with the family. I have a bad feeling, suddenly."

Pilar stared at her. "You think it too? You think they may try to get close to me to gain entry to the Palace?"

Javila nodded gravely. "You must remember that a lot of wealth rides on the ownership of our ore mines. Ebonas and Lithris are free to weave their conspiracy, perhaps even with the tacit support of some of the Eldermen. These waters may be deeper than we anticipated. Until further notice we shall invoke increased security. I shall inform Odar of our suspicion."

-------

Thesia went over her calendar again. It had to be, there was no other way. Her cycle was twenty-eight days, always had been, even under duress. Now she was past her days, for the second time without the bleeding setting in. It was no fluke, no error. She was indeed with child!

Alana was suspecting the same, but her menses were often irregular anyway, and she was not sure yet. Thesia debated with herself briefly, but then, instead of rushing into Macro's office, she crossed the hall and entered Alana's study. Alana looked up and smiled.

"That fellow, Veranus, he wrote with a wonderful style," she said, referring to the bound book on her desk. Very late in their history, the Old People had abandoned scrolls for bound books.

"Yes, he did," Thesia agreed. "Alana, darling, I am quite certain now that I am bearing Macro's child."

Alana's hazel eyes lighted up, unmistakably showing her delight. She stood and hugged her sister-wife.

"Oh Thesia, my sweet sister, this is wonderful! Does Macro know?"

Thesia shook her head.

"I wanted to wait, to be sure, and also to give you time to find out too."

"You are so sweet! Really, Thesia, so sweet to think of my feelings! Macro deserves to know, though. Besides, I feel different too. I not only missed my bleeding, but I feel queasy in the mornings. Let us tell our prince at dinner tonight!"

"Are you certain? This would make it perfect for me," Thesia beamed. "Should we forewarn Anais?"

"You are right, Thesia. We must tell her, lest she feel left out by us," Alana agreed.

The chance to speak with Anais did not come up over the day, and so Thesia and Alana waylaid their co-wife shortly before dinner.

"You should know this before we announce it, Anais," Alana began.

"Yes, at dinner tonight we will tell Macro that we are with child."

Anais' delight was genuine as she wrapped her long arms around her sister-wives in a three-way hug.

"I am so happy for you, and for Macro! I hope I will catch too, and soon. Have you told Pilar?"

"No, but she'll be here at dinner," Thesia replied. "I hardly see her anymore, with all her work for Javila and her — other obligations."

"She is dedicated to her duties," Anais agreed.

"Perhaps even too much so," Alana added. "She's become so skinny. She was slender before, but now..."

"She eats well, so it must be the hard work in the palace that keeps her thin," Thesia said with an emphasis. Pilar's exercises with Kiochi were kept a secret, and even when they thought they were alone, Thesia did not allow any discussion of Pilar's combat training.

Pilar really was thin, Thesia thought when she saw her sister at table. Yet, looking at her closely, Thesia could see that she was not emaciated, but rather sinewy. She knew of Kiochi's nickname for her sister, and after more than three months, Silver Willow had become fitting.

The sisters locked eyes for a moment, and Thesia thought she saw worry in Pilar's look. Their non-verbal exchange was interrupted when Macro entered with Lamas and Jolia. Thesia noticed an air of wariness in her husband, attuned as she was to Macro's feelings. She also saw that he and Lamas were wearing swords to the dinner table and that the doors to the room were guarded more heavily than was usual.

Thesia exchanged a look with her sister-wives and shook her head. Something was afoot, and this was not the time to tell Macro of their hopes. Alana nodded her understanding. The meal was taken with little talk.

After the dinner, Macro excused himself with duties at the palace. Pilar remained behind briefly and she took Anais to the side, speaking urgently to her. Thesia could see the tension in Anais' posture, and when they retired to Macro's wing, Anais changed into her guard uniform, complete with a lightweight brigandine. She also girded herself with her fine sword. Thesia looked at her sister-wife imploringly.

"Pilar told me to arm myself and to be ready to take command of my old Guard troop. They expect an attempt on the King tonight. That's all I know."

"There must be some treachery," Alana said quietly. "Call in your mother, with Tamar and Ella, and let us lock ourselves in."

"Jolia should be with us too. But shouldn't we alert the Guards?" Thesia asked.

Anais shook her head. "No, just family. Not all the Guard's soldiers can be trusted."

A little while later, Eloa came, with Tamar and Ella, and the women closed the door. They opened it again for Jolia, who was tense too. Walls and doors in the private wings were sturdy enough to offer protection. Feeling secure herself, Thesia worried over Macro, knowing that he would be the second target after Odar, but Anais shook her head.

"You have never seen Macro fighting. If he is warned, there isn't a man on this earth who could best him."

-------

After talking to Anais, Pilar rushed back to the Palace. She had to prepare herself. This morning, when she dropped another short summary of palace gossip with Trebo, she was surprised to find Lelis with him. He read the report and shook his head, then told her he had come with another proposal to end the quarrel with Tanitsar. He asked her to meet him outside the Palace, three hours after sundown.

Pilar almost ran back to the Palace. This was it. They were up to something. Who they were, she did not know, but the rendezvous had to be some sort of trap. She told Javila, and then she was dragged in front of King Odar to repeat what she knew.

Lamas and Macro were summoned next, and they decided on a strategy. Pilar was to meet Lelis and play along. Meanwhile, Lamas would pick twenty of the most reliable Guard soldiers, to shield the King and the Queens.

On the spur of a moment, Pilar had warned Anais after supper to be prepared. Who knew what else the conspirators were plotting, and Anais had to fear revenge from the friends of old Botho.

Now Pilar dressed very carefully in a silk dress that Kiochi had helped her design. It was lightweight, warm, and allowed a wide range of movements. She also bound her hair in a fresh braid and concealed three star-shaped throwing disks, hira-shuriken, in her sash. Two double-edged fighting knives in their sheaths were strapped to her lower arms, covered by the sleeves. She could handle Lelis.

Still, she had a sense of foreboding when she left the castle. She saw Lelis across the square, and when she approached him, she saw a shadowy figure at his side. She had to fight a brief panic, but she forced herself into calmness.

"Hello. Thank you for coming, my Love," Lelis greeted her.

"Who is he?" Pilar asked, nodding towards the man in the shadow.

"He's my body guard. I'm here on behalf of the Eldermen, after all, and somebody must protect me and the secrets I carry."

Pilar was fully alert, but the man beside Lelis still surprised her when he suddenly held a knife to her throat.

"Be quiet, little girl, or I'll slit your throat!" he threatened.

"Are you crazy? What are you... ?" Lelis protestations were cut short when the assassin swiped his throat with a second knife.

"I guess, I don't need him anymore," the man grinned. "Now, my sweet, move!"

Keeping the knife at Pilar's throat, he directed her through the darkness, away from the Palace. It took only a few steps for Pilar to realise how they had misjudged their adversaries. The assassin was leading her towards the Princes' Palace! The aim was not to kill Odar, but to extinguish the next generation, Macro, Lamas and their wives.

Thesia! No, she would never let this man hurt her sister, even if she had to die herself. Then again, if she refused to go, he would kill her and he might still gain access. He could not know that Pilar carried weapons of her own, and he could not know that she had become somewhat of an assassin herself under Kiochi's tutoring. She had to wait for an opening.

She could see the Princes' Palace ahead, and her worst fear proved true when the Guard soldier on duty at the gate gave the assassin a short salute.

"Now, my sweet, you will show me to your sister. You be a good little girl, and I might just let you live."

The knife pressed against Pilar's throat, drawing blood.

"What do you want of my sister?" she whispered.

"I hear she's good looking," the man chuckled. "Maybe I'll have some fun with her. I hear the scarface may be a good fuck too. You can all entertain me until the mighty Black Prince comes home to his harem."

Pilar almost stomped her foot in anger. How could they not have thought of this? Now they were inside, and to her horror, Pilar saw the dead bodies of two more Guard soldiers.

"Where are they?" the man hissed.

"They are in the East Wing," Pilar whimpered as if mortally afraid.

Inside, cold hatred at the man had taken over. She knew that he would have to let go of her once the door to Macro's private rooms opened. She hugged herself, as if shivering with fright and gripped the two knives under her sleeve.

They were at the door now.

"Knock and announce yourself!"

Thinking quickly, Pilar obeyed. She knocked. It took a few moments, but then she heard Tamar's voice. "Who is it?"

"It is me, Pilar. I forgot my earrings after supper."

Anybody who knew Pilar, and how she hated her ears, knew that she never, ever wore earrings. Pilar fervently hoped that Anais would take the cue. The door opened, but to her dismay Pilar saw that it was Tamar. The man pushed Pilar forward roughly.

"Be quiet, all of you!" he ordered. "One word and I'll cut her throat!"

There was no use in waiting. Taking a shuddering breath Pilar separated her arms and stabbed backwards with both knives. She suspected he wore some sort of body armour, and she aimed both knives at the inside of his thighs where the big leg arteries lay. The excellent steel of the Nipom-made combat knives tore through cloth, skin and muscles, and the man screamed in agony. Pilar relaxed her muscles and let herself collapse to the ground, surprising the assassin. She felt a burning sensation at her cheek where the knife had cut her skin open as she dropped, but she rolled to the side and flipped back to her feet, ready to fight.

Even as she readied herself, the assassin's head dropped to the left, the neck severed completely, and Pilar saw Anais behind him. She must have stood hidden behind the door as they entered, and she had struck him with her long, curved sword as soon as Pilar dropped to the floor.

The assassin's headless body tottered back and forth while the blood from his arteries sprayed the ceiling, but then he collapsed like a puppet whose strings were cut. Quick as lightning, Anais pushed home the deadbolt that secured the door.

"Are there more?" she whispered urgently.

Pilar nodded.

"There is one more, dressed as a Guard soldier," she replied, only now noticing the blood that ran from her face and onto her cream coloured silk dress.

There was Thesia at her side with Alana, and they made her sit down and pressed cloth kerchiefs to her wound.

"Oh, Pilar, you are hurt!" Thesia wailed, but a moment later, she was pushed aside by her mother.

"Let me see!" she demanded. She flinched. "It's a deep cut. I'll have to close it. Oh Pilar, what happened? How could you bring that man..."

"Mother, don't say another word!" Thesia said sharply. "Pilar has been secretly serving the King. All she did was done with his approval. Something must have gone wrong."

Pilar put her blood-soiled hands on both her mother and Thesia's arms. "Yes, something went wrong, but it's all right now."

"All right?" Eloa shot back. "You've been cut, and no healing art will prevent a scar!"

Pilar was stunned at first, but then a grim smile formed on her lips. She looked at Alana.

"Now I'm the scarface. It is fitting and I had it coming. At least I could protect my little sister."

"Don't say that!" Alana cried. "Eloa, please, you can close the wound, can't you?"

"I'll do my best, of course. Thesia, get me your best sewing kit. Light some lamps too. I need good light."

While Thesia rushed to find the kit, Anais stepped close and looked down at the sitting Pilar.

"Even if you keep a scar, nobody will ever give you a bad name. You put your life on the line for us and by doing this you became a sister to all of us." She looked at Tamar. "I must alert Macro and Lamas. Lock the door after me and let nobody in!"

Tamar opened the door only briefly, and Anais glided through, her sword at the ready. Then Tamar slammed the heavy door shut.

Thesia returned with the sewing kit. Eloa took it and examined the needles and the twine. Taking the finest needle, she bent it into a crescent and cut short strings from the thinnest twine. The she looked at Thesia.

"Hold your sister from behind, Thesia. This will hurt a lot, but she must not move."

Thesia obeyed and sat behind Pilar, wrapping her arms around her sister's arms and torso and pressing her cheek against Pilar's left, unhurt cheek from behind.

"You must be brave, Pilar," she whispered. "Just remember that we love you."

Pilar drew a deep breath and looked at her mother, steeling herself. This was just like those tests Kiochi had put her under, digging his fingers into her pressure points to steel her against pain. She was ready.

"Do it, Mother," she said as calmly as she could.

-------

An urgent knocking on the door jolted the women. It was Macro, with Anais and Lamas at his side, the latter rushing to hug a trembling Jolia. Macro saw the headless body of the assassin, and he saw his sister-in-law with her bandaged face. His eyes swept over his wives and, seeing them unhurt, he finally exhaled. He knelt before Pilar.

"Tell me what happened," he asked gently.

"I met with Lelis," Pilar spoke up. "This man was with him. He suddenly killed Lelis and forced me to lead him here. He had a knife at my throat. One of the Guard soldiers was at the gate, but he was an accomplice. He just nodded and left. I saw the two dead sentries then. At the door, he made me knock and say my name. I did, but I added something that I hoped would alert Thesia."

"She said she had forgotten her earrings. As if she ever wore earrings!" Thesia cut in.

"That was smart, Pilar. What then?"

"When Tamar opened, he pushed me in. I had my knives, and when I saw a chance, I stabbed his thighs and let myself drop to the floor. That's when my cheek was cut. I jumped up again, but by then Anais had chopped his head off."

Lamas snapped his fingers. "That renegade Guard soldier, Pilar – did you ever see him before?"

"No, never," Pilar answered.

"A conspirator masquerading in a Guard uniform," Macro said grimly. "The ship in which Lelis came cannot have sailed yet. Let us search the crew!"

Lamas nodded and turned. Once outside the door, they heard him give sharp orders. He returned and looked at Pilar.

"Can you come with us? You are the only one who has seen him."

Pilar nodded grimly. Then she stood, none too steadily, but she quickly controlled herself. She bent over the dead assassin and pulled her fighting knives from his thighs. His trouser legs were soaked with cooling blood: she had indeed severed the arteries. Lamas watched her.

"He would have died of blood loss in a short time even if Anais had not been ready. Good work, Pilar."

"It should have never come to this," Pilar answered. "This was far too close."

"I agree, and it was just as much my fault that we did not see beyond the threat against my father."

"To catch a thief, you need another thief. When this is over, we shall let Kiochi advise us on our protection," Macro said. "Or perhaps Pilar can continue her training with Kiochi and grow into that task."

Now steps were heard outside. It was Macro's loyal City Guard led by Sergeant Emoran. More shouts and cries were heard in the background.

"The servants had been herded into their quarters and locked in," Macro explained. "Sergeant, guard my private quarters. Let nobody in, save for me, my brother and the Worthy Pilar."

"And the Princess Anais," Anais stated, standing her tallest. "This is not the time for me to tend to my needlework."

"Angry, my love?" Macro asked with a smile.

"Mad!" Anais shot back. "There's one more neck waiting for my katana."

"We had better get that rogue alive," Macro answered. "You can watch Master Kiochi as he will get answers from him."

Still, Anais went with them and Pilar was grateful, for the tall young woman held her hand and gave her support as they marched toward the harbour.

At the quay, they saw that a full troop of Guards had taken control of the Hani vessel, her entire crew standing against the wall of the castello. With a grim smile Pilar stepped up to a burly man in sailor's clothes.

"Where's your smart salute now, cowardly murderer?"

The man looked about in absolute shock when he recognised Pilar's face under the bandages. He tried what seemed to be his sole chance at escape and rushed for Pilar. She was prepared. A minuscule step to the left and forward brought her out of the path of his charge. Then her right foot stepped behind his leg, while her right hand shot up, palm first, under his chin. Her strike was enforced by the attacker's own momentum, and his head snapped back violently before he flipped backwards and landed hard on the cobble stones.

A snap of Lamas' fingers sufficed to prompt four Guard soldiers to tie the unconscious man. Lamas then regarded the crew of the ship with a cold stare.

"I find you are all in collusion against the Royal Family of Tanitsar. Your lives are forfeit."

A man, obviously the master of the small ship, rushed forward and fell to his knees.

"Please, Lord, no! We have no knowledge of collusion. I was to give transportation to young Master Lelis and his servants. They paid us fifteen Guilders Hani. Where is young Master Lelis?"

"His other servant slit his throat when his usefulness expired," Pilar answered coldly. "Show us to the cabin they used, old man, and hold nothing back. My face was cut and I'm in pain. Play no games with me if only you want to be buried in one piece!"

Pilar was a veritable silver-haired demon as she stood before the Master, and he hunched his shoulders in fear.

"I can show you, Mistress, yes, indeed I will!"

He scurried over to the gangplank followed closely by Anais and Pilar with three Guard soldiers. Once they found the cabin, two of the Guards dragged the Master back to the quay while Anais and Pilar went through the cabins. Rather than searching the possessions, they bundled everything and had the Guards carry it to the quay.

The Hani ship was chained to the quay and its crew incarcerated while the two princes, with their prisoner and the retrieved baggage, walked briskly to the New Palace. Javila had been briefed already, and she stood to receive Pilar, shedding a few tears as she saw the bandaged face.

"I'm sorry, Pilar! This was something we did not suspect and you paid the price. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten!"

Before they could proceed, Kiochi appeared before Pilar out of nowhere. He gave her a hard look before his wrinkled face broke into a grin.

"Silver Willow did well," he said. He nodded towards the captive false Guard soldier. "Is this one of them?"

Pilar nodded. "Yes, Master. He masqueraded as a Guard soldier and killed the sentries."

"An old ruse, but then again, Guard soldiers are not very bright," Kiochi said scathingly. "Do you think he will talk?"

Pilar grinned in spite of her hurting cheek. "I am looking forward to finding out," she said, giving the captive an evil look.

The man had come to during the march to the Palace and he looked at Pilar and Kiochi with disdain.

"A slant-eyed grandfather and a skinny girl," he mumbled, for he had bitten on his tongue under the force of Pilar's strike. "That'll rattle me into talking for sure. Hah!"

Kiochi only touched the man lightly at the base of his neck, and the assassin screamed in pain and fell to his knees. Panting, he looked up at the small Nipom man while blood from his freshly bitten tongue ran from his mouth.

"It will be easy, my Queen," Kiochi said. "He is not in the least hardened against pain."

He gave the same touch to Pilar, who flinched but stared back at her mentor with defiance while sweat beads appeared on her forehead. Kiochi laughed.

"See, you big coward? What made you cry like a stuck pig barely sufficed to make this girl flinch. Maybe, I'll let her work on you. I find that I am getting too mellow with age."

With sudden terror in his eyes, the man looked back and forth between the cruel old man and the silver-haired demon who had so effortlessly knocked him unconscious. She gave him a sardonic smile, which looked even more sinister because of her bandages. He swallowed the blood in his mouth.

"Can we parley? I'll tell you what I know, but you have to give me something in return."

Two hours later, he had told them everything, even without being given anything in return. Lamas who had watched Kiochi work on the man felt sick and weak afterwards. Pilar too lost her vengefulness, and she leaned on Lamas for support when they left Kiochi's rooms.

They went to the council hall where they found King Odar with his wives. Macro, Thesia, Alana, Anais, Jolia, and Eloa were also in presence. The chief ministers had been summoned, too, including an ashen looking Tergus, who sat with his head bowed. Jolia rushed to her husband, hugging his unengaged side. Lamas cleared his throat.

"My King and Father! We have the answers now. The assassins were paid by Ebonas and Lithris, but the Elderman Embros knew of the plan. Their task was to kill Macro and me. With us dead, they thought another revolt might be successful. They ... They were to kill the women too."

They all watched as Odar's face turned red with fury. He breathed deeply to get control of his voice, which still sounded raw and harsh.

"Call Beyreth to arms! Have all ships readied at once and provisioned. I shall lead my army in person against those traitorous dogs. They sowed a wind, and they shall harvest a cyclone."

Tergus stood. "My King," he started. "To wage war against Hanilei can only prove disastrous."

Odar shook his head sadly. "Tergus, I thank you for your long service and the good advice you often gave. Methinks, though, that your loyalties have been split in recent years. I release you from your duties. Go wherever you feel at home. I do not blame you for what happened tonight, but let your son know that I hold him for disloyal. Leave my hall now, for your counsel is not valued anymore."

Tergus left the hall like a broken man and Odar regarded his sons.

"You, Lamas, will come with me. You'll lead the Guard against the traitors, and our loyal troops will follow. Woe to the Hani if they resist!"

"My father, you are right to plan immediate action, yet I believe that we can settle the matter without shedding the blood of hundreds," Macro said, looking straight at his father. "The keys to this unrest are the traitors Lithris and Ebonas. From what we learned, they both live on estates on the coast far to the west of Helas. A quick, decisive strike from the sea should capture them."

"We cannot attack Hanilei's coast without declaring feud; that were dishonourable," Odar responded.

Macro nodded. "This can be arranged. One of our ships, or even more, can sail for Helas and deliver the Letter of Defiance, say late in the evening. We can then strike on the next morning with the dawn's first light. News from Helas will not arrive at the traitors' estates before noon the next day."

Lamas spoke up. "Father, Macro is right. We have no quarrel with the Hani people, only with a few eldermen. To wage an all-out war on Hanilei would be costly for both sides. I side with Macro. Declare feud, seize the traitors, and then negotiate a peace under terms. With a strong beach head established on Hanilei, the Council of Eldermen will be conciliatory, for they know of our strength."

Odar nodded. "I see your point, my sons. I shall sail for Helas, to declare feud, while you, Lamas, will land the Guard at their estates and seize the traitors. Macro, my son, you will have to stay behind. My Vice-regent must secure Tanitsar for me in my absence."

"Father..." Macro began.

"I need you in Tanitsar, my son. We cannot go off all at one time; that were foolish. Since I go, my Guard goes and Lamas with them. Cannot you see?"

Macro sighed. "I see your reasoning, my Father, but I like it not."

"And do you think I liked it to send you against the pirates?"

Macro shook his head and Odar smirked.

"See, when you will be in my place one day, you will have to make many decisions that you will not like. For now, it must be me who appears before Helas, for many reasons. The rest just follows from that.

"There is another thing I have to ask of you. I want you and your wives to move into the Palace. The Princes' Palace is too open, too vulnerable, and too difficult to guard. Isn't that so, Lamas?"

Lamas nodded his head. "It's a nightmare to guard. There are ground level windows to the outside, and no wall to enclose it."

Alana spoke up. "It could be fortified, but that would destroy its beauty."

"Alana is right," Odar continued. "The New Palace is big enough, and there is the whole east wing which I have not even furnished. Why should we, as Royal Family, use three palaces in Tanitsar? You already converted the Vice-regent's palace into a city hall, and that was sound thinking. Let us reduce unnecessary spending and better our safety in the bargain."

Macro looked at his wives. Alana had already spoken up in favour of Odar's plan. Anais just shrugged. Thesia had something on her mind, though.

"This will not mean that we will be locked into the Palace, like during the unrest? Alana and my mother have to build up the Academy, and I have work there and in the Vice-regent's palace."

"Never worry, my daughter," Odar said. "As always, you will be guarded when you leave the Palace, but nobody wants to coop you up."

"I shall follow your wish, Father," Macro agreed then. "What will happen to the Princes' Palace?"

"I have ideas, but it is too early. During my absence you can move and have the empty east wing furnished to your liking. Lamas and Jolia can use the Guard Commander's quarters which have been empty for over a year. Have those spruced up a little for them. Jolia can relate their tastes."

The meeting then shifted to details of the planned military expedition. Also, troops had to be detailed for Macro to keep order and protect Tanitsar.

"My Father," Macro suggested. "It would be easiest to establish a separate body of Guards from trusted veterans and promising cadets. Archers and Lancers were almost like my personal troops during the unrest, but they are specialist forces and needed in the field. However, I need trusted troops to guard the city for you."

"That is true, Father," Lamas concurred. "Those under our protection have increased in numbers. The Guards must concentrate on protecting the Palace and our family. Let the Vice-regent have his own body of men to protect Tanitsar and to enforce his rule."

"Who do you have in mind to lead such a troop?" Odar asked cautiously, looking at Macro.

"Ronan," Macro answered spontaneously. "He is kin, and his loyalty is unwavering."

Odar made a face. "That is why he is indispensable at his current post," he said, but then his eyes lit up. "Do you remember Banas of Beyreth?"

"Certainly, Father. We passed the academy together. He is the Duke's second son."

"Right. I have been looking for an opportunity to take the worry about his second son's future from my old friend. He is serving as a troop leader under his father, but Anthos, his older brother, is equally able and will follow his father to the Dukedom. Banas would be perfect, especially since you two have been comrades. Let him raise a force. There are freed slaves from whose numbers he can recruit. Those should be most loyal to Prince Macro. He can also have the pick of the best cadets."

"He is certainly an excellent candidate," Macro agreed. "How do you wish that force to be named?"

"The Prince's Guard. We shall charter them as under the command of the heir apparent to the throne. They can be garrisoned in the Harbour Citadel."

This being settled, more topics were discussed, but in the end, Odar bade Pilar step forward.

"The Queen Javila has reported the role you played in foiling the attempt on my sons. I see that you were injured in the cowardly attack and my heart is heavy when I see your lovely face covered in bandages. Ask any favour of me and I shall grant it. Think well about it, there is no hurry."

Pilar nodded seriously. "I shall think about it, my King. Right now, I have no wishes. My greatest wish was granted to me this night when I could save my family."

There was a twinkle in the King's eyes. "Bravely spoken by a brave young woman! Will you look after the palace during our campaign? Javila insists on accompanying me."

In spite of her small stature, Pilar stood tall. "I shall do my best, my King!"

Edited by Erik Thread



-------

Chapter 17: At War with Hanilei

It was strange for Macro to watch the ships sail, while he himself had to stay behind. Twenty-seven large caravelles carried over four thousand soldiers, including Macro's own archers. He fervently hoped for their safe return.

Below him, on the quays, Banas was exercising the recruits who were to form the Prince's Guard. The young man had gladly accepted the position, and he was busy whipping the ragtag bunch of recruits into shape, assisted by experienced sergeants and corporals recruited from the ranks of various army troops. It had been easy to find the over five hundred recruits among the freed former slaves.

Nodding with satisfaction Macro left the Harbour Citadel heading back to the New Palace. He found Thesia and Alana busily directing the men and women who were cleaning the unused wing and readying it for its new occupants. With them stood Livia, the daughter of the Duke. Macro knew her from the burial ceremony of Queen Ada. She had been only sixteen then, a skinny, shy girl, but she had blossomed since then into a graceful beauty. The Duke had brought her along with him since she and her oldest brother were at odds with each other.

Macro looked at his wives with love and pride. They were both carrying his children, as anyone could see. It showed more on Thesia's small frame than on Alana's taller body, but according to them, they were both equally far along. Macro thanked fate that the scare of the attempted assassination had not hurt either of their fruit. When they had told him of their pregnancies, on the morning after, he had felt immeasurable relief and gratitude for Pilar. Now Anais was also certain that she was carrying. She was doing duty, once again commanding a troop of Guards, those left behind as nucleus of a defence, and he imagined his third wife to be quite happy with this. She had been a little disappointed at first when King Odar ordered her to stay behind, but that was before she knew of her state. It would be perfect and a reason for celebrations if threefold offspring would be born to the royal family.

Waving a greeting to his wives, Macro made for the throne chamber where he would meet with various officers in the next hours to receive reports and to dispense orders. He had his plate full now, not only with his usual workload as Vice-regent, but also as pro-tempore Regent of the Kingdom.

Queen Javila accompanied the King, but the other queens had stayed back, shying from the hardships of a military campaign. Macro was grateful for Queen Regula's presence, as she had promised her advice and support.

The entire family convened for the noon meal. There was a decided surplus of women at the table, with three queens, four princesses (including Jolia), Eloa, Pilar, and the Noble Livia. Only Banas and three cadets from the academy evened the numbers slightly, but there was also one female cadet. Macro had instituted a rotation by which four cadets at a time served in the Prince's Guard, and they were expected to sit at his table for the meals. His outward reason was to teach the young people courtly conduct, but he also did it to fasten ties with the future military leaders.

The mood at the table was slightly subdued, as was natural with the King and Lamas away to wage a war. Yet with many issues to discuss, the mood lifted and the young cadets relaxed somewhat. Anais in particular included the four youngsters in the conversation. All four were in awe of her, as she personified their ambitions and dreams, having risen from cadet to hero of the civil war, and now even to royal princess.

Courteous as he was, Macro made sure to pay attention to the daughter of the Duke, but she was almost shy in her answers, blushing frequently. This went for a while until Thesia turned to the young woman and patted her knee.

"Relax, Livia. Macro does not bite."

"He does nibble sometimes," Alana giggled, causing blushes all around.

Macro nearly shot the last sip of wine through his nose, but he controlled his diaphragm in time. He looked at Alana, so regal in her appearance, and shook his head. His second wife was by far the most lustful, and her pregnancy had even furthered that. To watch her and compare the Alana of today with the sometimes bitter, lonesome spinster she had been, reflected the changes Tanitsar had gone through.

"Forgive Alana, Noble Livia," he smiled. "She has her heart on her tongue these days."

Alana smiled at Macro. "And why shouldn't I?" She looked around. "I spent almost a lifetime having to deny being human and it made me miserable."

Thesia hugged her sister-wife. "You are right, my dear. We are all happy to see your human side anytime you care to show it."

Queen Regula cleared her throat, albeit fighting a smile. "Perhaps, now would be a good time to discuss the progress made with the Academy. Javila charged me to expedite the planning in her absence."

Alana dried her mouth with a napkin. "The changes to the rooms will be finished within a fortnight. The carpenters are working on the benches, tables and chalk boards."

"Prince Elbar's statue was commissioned last week," Macro added.

"Teaching may commence any time after that?" Regula asked, turning to Eloa and Thesia.

The willowy, silver-haired priestess nodded and smiled. "We have selected the teaching staff. From among the Hani who came with us, we picked a young woman who can teach Hani and basic writing. One of Lithris' former slaves is very skilled in numbers; he did the book keeping for the traitor. With Jolia, Thesia and myself, we can handle the first class."

"We should think about including Ronan's cadets in the basic teaching," Macro opined. "Who says they won't need numbers and writing in their future, or even knowledge of the laws?"

All eyes turned to the four cadets. One of them, Evias, stood and bowed.

"My Prince, Commander Ronan's wife teaches us the use of quill and abacus."

"She does? That is excellent. Perhaps Anais can find out to what level. Teichi may even help at the Civilian Academy too."

Anais nodded. "I can ride to the Academy this afternoon and find out. I have not seen Mother in two weeks."

"Do that, Anais, but not alone."

Anais nodded. Many precautions were still in place and would continue until all enemies were accounted for.

"Perhaps I could help too?" Livia spoke up. "I was taught the arts and the rules of colours, as well as clay work."

"Artistry? We had not thought of that," Eloa conceded. "It would round out the scope of learning. Appreciation of the arts is a hallmark of civilisation after all."

Regula had listened with a satisfied smile. "I see how things are growing together. I have one suggestion, though. The students should have regular exercises of their bodies. Odar believes that a strong mind will only thrive in a healthy body. I believe, Master Kiochi can devise exercises."

"He'll kill them," Anais laughed. "I believe you are right, though. The Tae-Gi exercises, in which he is a master, strengthen the body and help to focus the mind."

"Speaking of Tae-Gi," Macro said, "I have received a note from the Emperor of Nipom. They are interested in widening the trade between our islands. We can expect a delegation from them. It will be headed by his son, the Prince Itoh."

Anais' eyes went wide. "A prince of the Heavenly Empire will visit?"

Macro nodded with a smile. Teichi, her mother, had come from Nipom.

"Do you think your mother would like to be here for the visit?" Macro asked gently.

"It would be the fulfilment of her dreams."

"Tell her then. We shall give her note once their ships are in the offing."

Pilar had been silent until then as was her practice in recent weeks. Her face had healed to a large degree, but a thin red scar was still visible. She was running the palace in Javila's absence. Rumours had spread about her deeds and many courtiers were in no little fear of her.

"That means a Royal Banquet," she stated musingly. "Prince Itoh rates as visiting royalty. We had better prepare for this visit, all of us. It will be important to have troops ready too."

Macro looked at his wife's sister, tilting his head in a silent question.

"Seeing us well defended, even in King Odar's absence, will foster respect from our visitors," Pilar explained.

Regula's mouth twitched. "Kiochi has taught you more than just combat, my dear."

Pilar allowed herself a smile. "He and Javila, my Queen."

"Seeing all three of your wives with child will also foster respect," Alana spoke up.

At first they thought she had made another flippant remark, but she was serious. Pilar nodded.

"That is true. It will send the signal that Macro, heir to the throne of Tanitsar, will be a strong ruler. It cannot hurt to have that impression spread around the islands."

Macro shook his head in mock dismay. "With all the women around me so knowledgeable and wise, how can I ever assert myself as ruler when my time comes?"

Pilar took his complaint seriously and shook her head. "You are known as the greatest soldier in the islands, second only in experience to King Odar. That will discourage enemies and give us the peace to build our nation."

Macro marvelled at the young woman. "Pilar, if anyone had told me a half year ago that I would value your counsel, I would have laughed. You have come a long way, indeed."

Pilar blushed to that, and looked down like an adolescent girl. "I thank you for your appreciation, Macro. It gives me pleasure to be of help."

That night in bed, as Macro and his three wives settled down for sleep, Thesia spoke up. "Macro, we may have a problem."

"What problem, my Sweet," Macro yawned, already sleepy.

"There are two contenders for the remaining place in your heart and bed."

"Uh, what?" Macro blurted, surprised. "I don't even know of one contender."

Alana chuckled on his other side. "My dearest husband, have you no eyes in your head? Poor Livia adores you with all the fervency of an eighteen-year-old girl. Don't tell me that you have not noticed."

"But I haven't!" Macro protested. "I have three wives whom I love."

"Don't you like her?" Anais asked from behind Thesia.

"She is a sweet girl, well-behaved and bright," Macro conceded. "Of course I like her. What is not to like about her?"

"See? We like her too," Thesia sighed.

"So who is the second contender?" Macro asked.

"Pilar, of course," Anais said with emphasis. "Cannot you see how badly she wants to be recognised? Cannot you see her desire to please all of us? How she admires you? And how badly she chafes under her scarring? She is resigning to being a spinster, and it tears her up inside."

Macro could feel Alana nodding in support with every sentence. Thesia was strangely impassive, though.

"Thesia, do you agree?"

She looked at him with her green eyes full of doubt. "She is my sister, and I wish only the best for her. And the best for her would be you. Still, the thought of sharing this bed with my sister, to witness her with you, is very weird for me."

Macro sighed. "We should put this before my mother when she returns. I agree that both Livia and Pilar would fit well with us..."

"They're both blonde," Alana quipped, and Macro reached back to give her a swat on her royal backside.

"As I was saying when interrupted by our ill-mannered sprig of royalty, they would both fit well, and there are good reasons to include either of them. Livia is the daughter of my father's oldest and most trusted vassal, and Pilar is a born organiser and supremely smart. But then, we do not know Livia that well, and Pilar may not want to be second or rather fourth to her younger sister."

"You presented the dilemma concisely," Thesia nodded. "Apart from my own misgivings, she may indeed be hesitant, both for the reason you stated and because she might suspect pity as your motive."

Alana snapped her fingers. "Pilar may indeed resent being a fourth wife, but what if she could be First? First Royal Concubine, that is. I know, you did not want such a position in your future court, Macro, because it smacks of slavery, but it was the position your mother proudly held. And look how powerful she was!"

"I don't know," Macro temporised.

Anais picked up on Alana's idea. "In Nipom, the Emperor's Head Concubine is rivalled in power only by the Chief Minister. It is a very honourable position. It would also fit the structures your mother built up."

Thesia looked doubtful.

"She'd still share this bed with us. I know, there is no difference between sharing it with you and sharing it with Pilar; I just ... Oh well, perhaps I am just too uptight."

"It could be a problem for Pilar too," Alana said. "Have you never shared a bed, you and Pilar? I always thought that was common."

Thesia sighed again. "Yes, we did. We had to, and in the last years we both hated it. Pilar was two years older, and I was always the little sister and my mother's favourite. We got along fine when we were both younger. We cuddled and tickled each other, and Pilar told me naughty tales."

"Oooh, I would like that," Alana giggled.

Thesia snorted. "As if there is anything she could tell that you haven't tried yet!"

"I wouldn't mind cuddling with Silver Willow," Anais stated, causing stunned silence. "What? She is like an elf, as unlike myself as a woman can get, maybe except Thesia."

"Ooh, Anais, you are deliciously wicked!" Alana said approvingly. "I would not push her away either. Macro, just think of another pint-sized wench riding your pole!"

"Hrhm! I'll think of nothing of this sort. I am quite happy with one pint-sized wench."

Thesia pressed his hands with affection. "Can we please table this discussion? This is something I need to get my head around, and I'm not yet sure how. What about Livia then?"

"The same," Macro said with finality. "We would have to get her father's approval as well as Odar's blessing. Let us sleep."

As it turned out, sleep was a while away. All three of his wives were sizzling with arousal, even Thesia, and Macro had his hands full for more than an hour. It was past midnight when he fell asleep, a sated and blissfully smiling Thesia still impaled on his shrinking member.

During the days to follow, Macro felt self-conscious around Pilar and Livia, but he watched both during their meals and tried to discover how he felt about them. Livia was a pleasant girl, raised in a sheltered environment, and without many "practical" skills. Macro suspected that the late Duchess had groomed her daughter for the role of a wife to a nobleman, with no responsibilities. Sharing that thought with Alana, his second wife had dryly commented that this was not unlike her own upbringing, up to the fateful day of her "accident". Macro was surprised at the remark, but he saw the truth behind it. Had it not been for her "disfigurement" and her subsequent withdrawal, Alana would have been very much alike the shy Livia in her skill set.

Pilar presented even greater problems for Macro. Firstly, he knew about Thesia's reservations and he could relate to them. After all, he would not be comfortable with Lamas in his bed and mounting any of his wives. Secondly, he became acutely aware of the attraction he felt for the silver-haired girl. Her physical beauty played only a little part in this. It was her striving personality, her eagerness to perform to the best of her abilities, that made Pilar a kindred soul to Macro.

Nevertheless, he decided to shelve any decision until Odar's return. Instead, he turned his full attention to his duties as regent. Odar had given Macro full powers, including the right to replace officials. Many of the men serving under Odar had become stuck in their ways, but the King was reluctant to replace them out of sentimental feelings. Macro, aided by Regula and Pilar, went over the lists of responsibilities and evaluated the officials' continued performance. They found many of them wanting.

Macro began a long series of talks with those men (it was men only). In many he could instil a renewed resolution and dedication, and those he left in office. Others tried to find excuses for their slack, and those he set a deadline for improvements, disregarding their explanations. A third group, the smallest, rejected his criticism offhandedly and questioned his authority to demand changes. Those officials found themselves relieved of their positions in very short time.

There was a fourth group of officials who could indeed show that their perceived shortcomings were caused by circumstances beyond their control. This was the most satisfying group for Macro, for they were eager to help with the necessary changes.

This process took almost two months and kept Macro busy, in spite of the news that came pouring in from the expedition force. Javila kept her son apprised of the developments, and the news was good and getting better.

As planned, Lamas had caught the traitors at their coastal retreats north of Helas. The Elderman Embros had been visiting with Lithris and was caught along with his host. That was not all. Lamas freed a full two-dozen young women and men, Hani who had been lured into Lithris' house and were kept as slaves to serve his brutal whims.

At the same time, the majority of the Tanitsar fleet had drawn up in front of the Helas port, blockading it and delivering Odar's Letter of Defiance. They caught the Eldermen flatfooted, with two of them away to the South negotiating treaties, one caught red-handed at Lithris's house, and the remaining two at loggerheads with each other. Brugar was one of them, Anatar the other. While Anatar wanted to call the city to arms, Brugar insisted on negotiations with Odar. Both nullified the other's authority, and in effect, nothing was done other than the City Guard taking up defensive positions in the harbour.

That balance was finally upended when a large group of youngsters arrived at Helas' gates, telling a gruesome story of enslavement by the two honoured guests and one of their own Eldermen. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The workers and labourers had long chafed under the arbitrary rule of the Eldermen and the oppressive dominance of the guilds. One thing they had always taken pride in, pioneering the banishment of slavery in the islands, had been made a mockery with full knowledge from their leadership.

Angry mobs assembled around the houses of Anatar and even old Brugar. Brugar went out to speak to the angry people to hear their complaints, and in shame he gave up his gold chain of leadership. That saved his life, for the protesters merely detained him. Anatar, by contrast, called in the City Guard, to chase off the protesters. It was his undoing. A young officer of the Guard, Leonas, was the brother of one of the young Hani women held captive at Lithris' estate. As soon as he arrived, he had his men storm Anatar's house, followed by the enraged mob. Anatar was torn from his wonderful marble house and stoned to death.

That was only the start. The guild leaders were next on the list. The remaining loyal City Guard soldiers did their best to protect them and their families, but the houses were sacked and burnt. The columns of smoke alerted Odar to the unrest, and he took the initiative. The beleaguered City Guards put up no defence when the Duke of Beyreth landed his men. At the same time, the Royal Guards under Lamas, already close to Helas, advanced into the undefended city from the north. The violent mobs were quickly suppressed when the black-clad Guards flooded the streets, while the Duke secured the harbour and the warehouse district.

Thanks to the quick intervention only few lives were lost, and by evening Helas was firmly in Odar's hands. A curfew was imposed and strictly enforced, and during the night the guild headmen were led back to their ransacked houses. Tempers had a chance to cool over night, and when the curfew was lifted in the morning, old Brugar and a delegation of citizens asked to meet Odar.

He received them in the former Palace of the Don of Hanilei where for the last decades the Eldermen had ruled the island. Brugar made a face but settled into the inevitable. The Hani society had broken apart, and had now fallen easy prey to their powerful neighbour.

Javila wrote that she had felt a shiver when she saw King Odar, as he received the delegation. When he took possession of Tanitsar she had been a girl slave in the holds of a trading ship, but now she could see her husband in a victor's pose. According to her, the delegation was soon cowed into fear as Odar revealed the plot against his sons and their families. Brugar in particular was crestfallen, asking Odar repeatedly not to punish the people for the wrongdoings of their leaders. He offered to stand trial in lieu of his brethren who were absent.

The captive Embros was also brought before Odar, along with the traitors Ebonas and Lithris. In a brilliant move, Odar turned all three over to the Hani High Tribunal, to be charged with conducting slavery. In the face of the twenty-fold testimony, the Tribunal had no choice but to find them guilty under Hani Law, and there was but one possible sentence. All three met their fate on the very next morning when they were hanged at the former slave market in front of hundreds of citizens.

Lamas oversaw the execution and spoke up afterwards, assuring them that Odar had not come as conqueror, but only to apprehend the traitors and those who shielded them. He made a point that in these days slavery and suppression had been abolished all over the Islands. He also pointed out the reason for the embargo, the attempted murders that were foiled by one of their own, Pilar, a disowned daughter of Lutar, and who was now a trusted officer in the Royal Court of Tanitsar. At the end, he read out a letter from the Princess Thesia (Javila, Thesia and Pilar had composed it) in which she bid her greetings and expressed the hope that soon the neighbours would be friendly again under the rule of freedom.

It was an exceptional speech, and to his surprise the Hani cheered the foreign prince. Hearing this, Odar wisely decided to stay in the background when the occupying Tanit force met with their Hani counterparts to discuss a resolution of their quarrels. Instead, Lamas led those discussions with great skill.

Thus was the state of affairs, Macro knew of from Javila's letters, when the tower sentries heralded the approach of a fleet of ships bearing Tanitsar's colours. It was forenoon and Macro rushed to the ramparts to watch the approaching galleons. Odar's own flagship led the fleet which was smaller than the one which had departed those three months ago. Banas was alerted and Anais too, and the newly formed Prince's Guard stood to attention on the quays. Anais with her small Guard detachment formed the protective cocoon around the Royal Family who all assembled on the quay to salute the return of their victorious king.

The Great Gong on the harbour citadel sounded the prescribed 21 times when the ships entered the port. With a bump and a screech the Royal Caravelle made fast, and a gangplank was lowered to the quay. Odar was the first to step on that swaying bridge, and the assembled Guards struck their shields thrice with their sword pommels, the sound rolling over the still water of the harbour. Macro stepped forward.

"My Father and King, Tanitsar is secure for you!"

Odar nodded, a satisfied smile on his lips, as his gaze swept over his assembled kin.

"It is good to be home again, my son," he answered. "Ah! The new Prince's Guard. Decent, very decent."

Odar stepped on the quay, and then his entourage followed. Macro noticed with a sinking feeling that Lamas was missing. He fought the premonition, telling himself that Odar would not look so happy had anything happened to his second son. Odar noticed Macro's look.

"In a while, my son. Let us return to the palace."

Macro nodded. "A meal is being prepared. Pilar stayed back to supervise the efforts."

Again, Odar nodded. Now, Javila stepped over the gangplank, smiling at her son who received her with a hug.

"We come with the best of news," she whispered. "Lamas stayed in Hanilei as Regent by the request of the new People's Council. I have two sons who will be rulers."

"And who had the best of all mothers to raise them," Macro whispered back.

"Javila, are you stealing my thunder?" Odar laughed.

"With the heart full to the brim, the mouth will overflow," Javila quoted and Macro laughed.

"I know that quote in other context. We used it after heavy imbibing."

Odar was greeting his wives now, and Regula held his arm close as if she would never let go. By now, all the important courtiers had landed, and Jolia was looking forlorn. Odar took her in his free arm.

"My daughter, you must ready yourself for travelling. A new role awaits you, as Princess-Consort of Hanilei, and your husband is no doubt pining for your arrival."

"Princess-Consort?" Jolia gasped.

Odar shrugged. "I may as well speak out. The newly formed People's Council of the Hani has asked Lamas to accept the Regency over Hanilei. It's not quite that he will be King, for they have some rules and counter weights, but he will be able to do a lot of good. It goes without saying that he needs a wife who masters the laws lest they tie him up in too many rules."

"The Regency? Oh my dear!" Jolia marvelled. "And here I picked the second son, to avoid such a prominent position."

They all laughed and commiserated with Jolia's cruel fate. Soon, however, they assembled for the short walk to the New Palace. There, Pilar was receiving them wearing her full court dress. She bowed, first to King Odar, then to Javila.

"My King and Queen, your palace awaits you!"

Behind her, the servants formed a long file, bowing to their monarch. Odar just smiled, but Javila hugged the silver-haired girl.

"Thank you for taking good care of everything, my dear girl. Let me see. Yes, your face has mended well. Your mother may not be a priestess anymore, but she is a wizard when it comes to the healing arts."

Her words made Odar look at Pilar. "Do not forget the wish you can make, Pilar. If you were older, or if I were younger, I could offer you the position of First Concubine and Ruler of the Palace. Come to think of it, Macro may fill that position one day. Should I recommend you? He may listen to me."

Pilar blushed a bright pink at that. "I do not aim for distinction, my King. It pleases me that my work is done to your satisfaction."

"Yet distinction awaits you, for your actions and your vigilance lie at the heart of our great victory. For now I have awarded you a tenth of the spoils won for the Crown. Remember, the traitors were wealthy beyond belief. I believe you may expect twenty or thirty thousand guilders."

Pilar gasped, and Javila laughed. "Speaking of traitors, Pilar, your father had the nerve to come and speak up, trying to get on your and your mother's good side again. He even claimed kinship to me. I took it upon myself to give him my mind in no uncertain words. We helped him to build up his shop again but made it clear that he will not be welcome."

Pilar smiled grimly. Now that she was rich beyond her dreams, she might just go back to Hanilei, to flaunt her wealth and power before her faithless father and before all the people who had scorned her in the past. She checked herself and the smile froze. That would have been fitting for the old Pilar, who would have tried to impress people with outward signs of status. Continuing her present work she would gain so much more. The recognition of the people she loved, for one, and the power to better things for the people, for another. Something else, she remembered.

"Did you relay my sympathy to Lelis' parents?"

"I did. They are grief stricken and angry at those who set up their only son. Lelis' father was one of those who were beaten up by the mob. They lost almost all their possessions in the burning ruins of their house. Lamas gave him a small posting in the Hanilei Mint so he may earn his living."

"All that misery, so that a few rich people could get a little richer," Pilar said sadly. "I have to be careful with my share of the spoils lest I be corrupted too."

"It can happen to any of us, my child, even if we start with the best intentions."

The Great Hall of the palace was decorated gaily, and the tables bent under the food. It was a meal fit to welcome Tanitsar's victorious King, and Odar sat at his place, rubbing his hands.

"Ah, this looks good! How I missed our cooking!"

Taking turns, Odar and Javila relayed the events in Hanilei once more and in great detail while they enjoyed the food and drink. During the later courses, Macro and Regula explained the changes they had implemented. King Odar frowned a little in the beginning, hearing about long time followers being ousted from office, but Regula made a good case for the changes.

The Duke, meanwhile, sat with his younger son and his daughter, and they must have filled him in on the way they had spent the time of his absence. Once the meal was finished, he took Macro aside.

"My Prince, are you satisfied with my son as your guard commander?"

Macro nodded.

"Yes. He has done exceedingly well considering the short time. We are glad that he accepted the posting."

"That is good. I knew his qualities, of course, but it makes me proud that he also displayed them in his new posting. I also hear that my daughter wants to assist in the teachings in that new academy?"

"She volunteered to teach the arts, and we were more than happy about that. It is of course for her father to make the final decision. I can say, however, that she is well liked by all my wives and by the queens and we should hate to see her leave."

The Duke's eyes widened for a moment as he digested the veiled offer.

"It gladdens me that Livia made a good impression. It is testimony to my late wife's good influence. I take it, the Princesses would not mind if Livia stayed in Tanitsar to help in the academy?"

"They would accept her in their midst for any length of time."

The Duke nodded, a grin playing around his mouth.

"Perhaps this is something we should consult the King about. Since you are now living in the Palace, it concerns him too."

"I shall bring it up in the next days," Macro assured the Duke. "There is another matter to settle too."

"No doubt concerning the silver-haired Pilar," the Duke nodded. "She must be included in some way; she is too valuable."

"Our thinking exactly. She is chafing under her scarring, and she needs a reassurance."

"Why then Lidia? To appease me?"

Macro shook his head.

"My wives like her, and that is important. I find her very appealing too which I admit is important to me. It is not just her obvious beauty. She is a pleasant person and interested in many things. She would complement us.

"Of course, I would be lying if I claimed that your position as my father's oldest and most trusted friend does not play a role. To tighten our friendship by kinship bonds will add to the stability in the realm."

"May I ask who came up with the idea? Was it the Princess Thesia?"

"They all suggested it. I find that they do not leave many decisions to me."

"Such is the fate of royalty," the Duke laughed.

With the royal family almost complete again, Macro found more time to be with his family. Both Thesia and Alana were getting closer to the birth of their children, and they appreciated his presence. Anais was beginning to show her state as well, and her feelings were a mix of pride and resentment, for she had to give up her temporary posting with the Guards. Yet, the next weeks promised to be a time to live as family.

Edited by Erik Thread



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Chapter 18: A State Visit


One evening, two weeks after King Odar's return, Macro joined his wives for dinner and was surprised that Livia was missing from the table. Thesia had a smirk on her face when she saw that he noticed, and after the first course was served and they were alone, she informed her husband.

"We spoke to Livia today asking her if she could imagine living with us in a formal bond. Oh Macro, the poor girl broke out in tears! We had misjudged her all the time. It is not you she is coveting, but Lamas. Poor Jolia was flabbergasted as you can imagine."

Jolia was preparing to join her husband in Hanilei.

"What now?" Macro asked, surprised but not dismayed. He liked Livia well, but he had not fallen in love with her.

"Jolia and Livia talked all afternoon. They are with your parents right now."

"I can guess the topic of the talk," Macro said dryly. "Well, I do not begrudge my brother a second wife if only Jolia can live with it."

Thesia made a face. She looked around, but Pilar was not yet back.

"I suppose that leaves my sister," she sighed. "Do you want me to broach the subject with her? Perhaps she has her mind set on another man."

"There is no hurry, Thesia. Right now, she is with us all the time. Let us wait for the birth of the children and then we can think about it again. I have no pressing need for another wife."

"I think Macro is right," Alana agreed. "We have become a little obsessed with the matter. Another wedding right now would be taxing for us anyway."

They left it at that, but later in the evening, Jolia and Livia showed.

"Livia will travel to Hanilei with me," Jolia announced. "We hope that Lamas will agree."

"What does the law in Hanilei say about multiple marriages?" Alana asked curiously.

"They're not forbidden, but frowned upon," Thesia answered for Jolia. "A second wife usually means that the first wife will be living in separation from the man. They do not have sister-wives."

Livia shook her head. "Maybe I should stay. I would not want to be the cause of trouble for Lamas."

Macro shook his head. "Lamas is still a Prince of Tanitsar and second in the line of succession. He can have four wives, even if he serves as Regent of Hanilei. We can claim that his marriages are a matter for the House of Odar only."

Jolia smiled at him. "When did you ever turn into an advocate?" she asked.

"When my father made me the Vice-regent. Am I not right?"

Jolia laughed now. "You used the same argument as your father, if perhaps a little less blunt. The King said, 'My son can marry whomsoever he chooses, and if they don't like it, too bad!' Queen Regula was of the same opinion."

"See, it's that simple. Right now, there is nobody in Helas who would dare protest anyway. They face other problems," Macro ended the debate.

Livia was not at ease yet. "My Prince..."

"It's Macro, Livia," he gently reminded her, and she nodded.

"Macro, when the P ... When Thesia asked me if I would consider joining you as your fourth wife, I felt the honour of the offer, but my heart speaks for your brother. Will you forgive me?"

Macro took her hand in his, a first. "Livia, knowing my brother for all my life, I have my problems believing you, but I accept it." He grinned. "You loving him is just as hard to believe as when Thesia, Alana and Anais claimed to love me, for I am as unworthy of each of you as is my brother. Just be happy, Livia, and help Jolia make my brother happy. I, in turn, will be happy to call you my sister."

In this moment, Pilar entered. After hugging Thesia briefly, she approached Macro.

"My Prince, a flotilla of ships is drawing near our harbour. They bear the colours of Nipom."

"Will they make the harbour before darkness?" Macro asked sharply.

"It is expected they will. Given the previous messages, we have to assume that the Prince Itoh is on board."

"Then I better get ready to welcome our visitor," Macro said. "Thesia, Alana, you had better stay. It's getting late, and I should hate to have you standing on your feet all the time."

"Should I come?" Anais asked. She was obviously pregnant, but not as far along as her sister-wives.

"No, Anais. You rest. He cannot expect a full welcoming delegation when he arrives after dusk. I shall greet him as Vice-regent of Tanitsar. Perhaps Pilar can accompany me? She could also see to it that the Princes' Palace is ready for our visitor."

Their former home had been converted into a guest house for ranking visitors.

"I have ordered that it be made ready," Pilar nodded. "I shall accompany you, of course."

Macro kissed his wives and then rushed to dress for the occasion. The Heavenly Empire was a warrior nation. Macro therefore opted for wearing his black uniform and both swords. Returning to the hall, he found Pilar that had changed into her court dress.

"Ready, Silver Willow?" he asked jokingly, and Pilar nodded with a smile.

The Princes' Guard lined the quay when the leading ship of the flotilla of three made fast. A gangplank was lowered onto the quay, and man dressed in silk walked across. He saw Macro standing in the front of the guard detail and approached him.

"I am Neigo, envoy for the Heavenly Empire. My Lord, the Prince Itoh, is on board this ship. Is he welcome to visit?"

"I am Macro, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, and I welcome Prince Itoh to our lands. May his visit bring peace and happiness for both our people."

The Envoy raised and flipped open a silk fan, and a moment later a tall, sinewy man of Macro's age walked over the gangplank. He wore his black hair tied back, and his torso was covered in body armour made from lacquered bamboo. At his side Macro saw a utilitarian sword without decorations.

"Prince Itoh, in the name of my father, King Odar of Tanitsar, I welcome you!" Macro spoke.

The man bowed slightly. "In the name of my father, the Emperor Hashima, Ruler of the Heavenly Empire, I thank you for your welcome, and I bring my father's wishes of Peace and Friendship with me."

"Then you are doubly welcome, Prince. Being advised of your intended visit, we have prepared quarters for you and your entourage. Will you accept our hospitality?"

"If it will not inconvenience the Royal House of Tanitsar too much, I will gladly accept."

"It is no trouble, Prince, only an honour. May I present the Worthy Pilar? She is a Lady in Waiting for the Queen Javila, my mother, and she will lead you to your quarters and tend to your wishes."

Pilar stepped forward, and the foreign Prince stared at her for a moment. In the flickering light of the torches, Pilar with her silvery hair and her blue robe of heavy silk was indeed a sight.

"Noble Prince, will you assemble your closest followers and servants, and I shall show you to the Princes' Palace," Pilar spoke.

The prince turned to the envoy who gave another signal with his fan. A group of thirty men and a few women walked gingerly over the gangplank. At least ten of the men were warriors, clad completely in black, the Prince's bodyguards.

"We are ready, Worthy Pilar," the envoy announced.

With Macro's guards carrying burning torches, the group made its way through the dark streets to Macro's childhood home. It was brightly lit with numerous torches and oil lamps, and a strong detachment of servants from the Palace stood ready to tend to their high-ranking visitors. Macro bade his farewell and promised to be back in the morning, to bring the visitors before King Odar. Pilar stayed behind, claiming her need to make sure that the Prince was not lacking anything.

Once Macro was gone, Prince Itoh addressed Pilar.

"Worthy Pilar, I should ask you to retire yourself. My needs will be taken care of, and I could never console myself were you to miss sleep on my behalf."

Pilar regarded him with her light blue eyes.

"My Prince, surely you will understand that I have to do what my sense of duty dictates. Be assured that I regard it as an honour, not as a chore, to see to your comfort."

In the more steady light of the oil lamps, Itoh had his first good look at Pilar, and he saw the faint scar on her cheek. He also regarded her well-balanced stance and the sinewy arms. He recalled the way she moved too and in an instant he understood the meaning.

"You were trained in the Sacred Arts?" he asked, and Pilar looked back at him frankly and nodded.

"I know but of one sensei of the Arts who lives on these islands. Is Kiochi your master?"

"He is, Prince."

Itoh nodded, satisfied with his own perceptiveness. The young woman interested him.

"We have heard of a young courtier who foiled an assassination attempt against the Prince Macro. Was that you?"

"Not I alone, Prince, but the Princess Anais dealt the decisive blow."

"Then you are the Princess Thesia's sister. Prince Macro is showing me a great honour, indeed."

"You are well informed, my Prince," Pilar answered guardedly.

"Never ford a river without testing the depth first," he replied. "We have collected some information as I am sure you and your mistress did as well."

Pilar nodded showing an acknowledging smile.

"Do you wish for a bath before going to sleep, Prince? We heated the water in advance when we heard of your approach."

"I shall happily accept a bath, but only if you promise me to retire, yourself. It shames me to have a member of the Royal House waiting on me."

"Far be it from me to cause discomfort," Pilar answered. "Let me summon two servants."

She summoned the two women who were responsible for the bath. Both had been pleasure slaves before the abolition of slavery, and they were adept at massages. Pilar bade a good night then, leaving the visiting prince in their able hands.

-------

Early on the next morning, Macro arrived at the old Princes' Palace to escort their visitor to the New Palace. Prince Itoh was not one to sleep away the morning hours, and not a half hour later, they were on their way.

In the Great Hall of the Palace, King Odar received his visitor with full honours, flanked by his four wives. To his right, Macro placed himself with the three pregnant princesses. Prince Itoh did not fail no notice that fact, nor did he miss that Anais was of obvious Nipom extraction. He was well informed, as was soon obvious, for he bowed to and addressed each of the queens and princesses with their names. Anais, he addressed in Nipo, his native tongue, and Anais, much to Macro's surprise, answered fluently.

Macro caught a glimpse of Ronan and Teichi, the latter beaming with pride when her daughter was addressed by Prince Itoh. Not much later, it was her turn, and she curtseyed before the visitor who, to everybody's surprise, bowed deeply in return.

"I am overjoyed to see you restored to your standing, Aunt Teichi," the Prince said, and for a moment, Macro feared that his friend Ronan would faint.

The Prince turned with a smile.

"My aunt was lost at sea before I was born, and it was thought that she had perished. Only when your envoy arrived and we began to collect information did we learn of her true fate."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Ronan asked, still in shock.

His former concubine and present wife smiled at him. "In the beginning I was too shamed. I was a slave, sold to you for your pleasures. I had lost all my face. Then when I fell in love with you, I was afraid of being sent back to Nipom if my identity became known. I had it good. I was loved regardless of how my position was called. Anais was well cared for. Look at her! She made her way on her own merits."

Anais was decidedly unsurprised. When questioning looks went her way, she shrugged.

"Mother told me when I brought the news of Cousin Itoh's impending visit. I had to promise to keep the secret."

King Odar's deep chuckle sounded. "How about that? We have marriage ties with the Heavenly Empire!"

Macro only shook his head in amazement. Alana as granddaughter of Lorsa was a given, but then Thesia proved to be the sole surviving priestess' daughter, and now Anais was a sprig of Nipom's Imperial family, albeit amalgamated with Ronan's warrior blood. Fate was obviously unwilling to grant him a wife from a simple background.

During the breakfast, seating was rearranged and Anais and Teichi sat with their cousin. After the breakfast, Prince Itoh was given a tour of the city by Anais and Teichi. Meanwhile, three senior courtiers of his retinue sat down with Macro, with the new Chief Envoy Leneas, and with the elected chiefs of the mine workers. The purpose was to discuss trading issues, mainly the export of iron ore from Tanitsar and Beyreth to Nipom.

With the latter lacking in natural mineral resources, payment was something of a problem, but that was resolved quickly. The waters around Nipom were rich in pearl oysters, and it was agreed to have the ore paid partly in pearls which could be worked into fine jewellery by the Hani goldsmiths who had come to Tanitsar. The other payments would be made in precious wood from the deep forests of Nipom's cold North. Still more would be traded against the famous cutlery produced by Nipom's master smiths.

The mining co-operatives would have to find more workers to meet the demand, for shipments to Hanilei had resumed now that Lamas was the regent there, and the demand for manpower would have to be solved. By late afternoon, the agreements were ready, just in time for the return of Prince Itoh.

The banquet that evening was already celebrating the agreements and the future trading ties. It was agreed over good food to exchange permanent envoys with Nipom and to establish regular shipping. This was a novel development, for Nipom, under its former rulers, had secluded itself from the surrounding nations. The Emperor and his son Itoh seemed determined to open their country up for trade and exchange.

Following Alana's suggestion, it was agreed to exchange young people of either nation and to have them spend a year learning the host nation's customs and arts. Prince Itoh was very interested in the two Academies of Tanitsar, and a visit to both was scheduled for the next day.

On the next morning, Prince Itoh participated in the weapons training of the Guards. Anais accompanied him, a little grumpy because she was too far along in her pregnancy to participate, and so did Pilar. The latter sparred with the visiting Prince in unarmed hand-to-hand combat. She was not, could not, be his match with less than a year's practice, but she gave him a good fight before she ended in an arm lock and had to accept defeat.

He looked at her with a great deal of regret. He would have loved to woo her, but even with all the new openness in Nipom there would be no acceptance for a foreign bride, let alone for one bearing a facial scar. Prince Itoh was already promised to the daughter of his father's chief minister, and to snub her and her powerful father would seriously endanger Itoh's ascension.

At Prince Itoh's request, Pilar's place on the mats was taken by Master Kiochi. The Prince entered the sparring with utmost wariness, clearly aware of his opponent's skills. Alas, it took the old man less than a sixth of an hour to take his opponent down in a strangling leg hold. Prince Itoh accepted the defeat in good grace though expressing his dismay that Kiochi, once Nipom's top ranked sensei,  had to flee the country ten years before due to a court intrigue. They agreed to continue their practice over the next days in Kiochi's own dojo.

It was an extremely fruitful visit, everybody agreed, when Prince Itoh was given a farewell banquet two weeks later. Prince Itoh issued a warm invitation to Macro for a visit to Nipom, more than hinting that Anais and her mother should be part of the delegation. Macro in turn promised to make that journey as soon as his duties allowed, but not before his wives were able to travel again.

Prince Itoh's flotilla left the Tanitsar harbour early on the next morning heading for Hanilei, where Prince Itoh would pay a visit to the new Regent. It would be the first royal visitor for Lamas.

Edited by Erik Thread



-------

Chapter 19: Completion


In Tanitsar life returned to normal. With Odar returned from the Hanilei campaign, Macro had more time for his wives. Thesia and Alana were more than two-thirds along in their pregnancies, and Anais was only two moons behind them. The state of hope in which the three princesses found themselves was known all over the island and preparations were under way for a huge celebration.

The last royal birth, that of Elbar, had been over a half century ago. Under the erratic rule of a mad king, the citizens then had been less than joyous over the birth of an heir, not knowing if their new-born crown-prince would be able-minded.

When Alana was born, Odar was already reigning and her birth did not merit public celebrations. Macro and Lamas were born as the sons of a pleasure slave and their births were not even made public. Thus the Tanit were anticipating great celebrations.

The first to give birth was Alana. She was on time with the midwife's calculations, and she was almost apologetic to Thesia when she went into labour. It was a long birth, from shortly after midnight to the late afternoon, but when the first cry of the newborn boy sounded from Macro's quarters, the news spread over Tanitsar like wildfire.

Later that evening, a beaming Macro in his role as Vice-regent made the announcement, surrounded by torch-bearing guards.

"Hear ye, hear ye, People of Tanitsar!

"On this fifteenth of the harvest moon and surrounded by her sister-wives, Alana, Royal Princess of Tanitsar, gave birth to Prince Macro's firstborn son. Marlo, Prince of the House of Odar, was born healthy of limbs and for the future Glory of Tanitsar!"

This announcement set off a raucous celebration all over the city. Many of those who still adhered to the House of Clonal where overjoyed to see Alana's son as firstborn prince. In their minds, the royal bloodline was interrupted by Odar and Macro, but would be restored once the newborn prince would ascend to the throne. For the followers of Odar it was all the same. Thus it came that people who had been of opposing camps were celebrating in unity and peace.

Four days later, it was Thesia's turn. In spite of her small stature she had an easier time of it. The child, a tiny girl, took all but three hours to fight her way to the light. Macro was overjoyed, and he could not decide which of his wives to hug first and which of his newborn children to carry next. Taking a hint from Alana and Thesia, he also made certain to include Anais. She had to wait for another two moons, but she shared the joy of her sister-wives.

Again, Macro climbed up on the speaking platform outside the Palace.

"Hear ye, hear ye, People of Tanitsar!

"On this nineteenth of the Harvest Moon and surrounded by her sister-wives, Thesia, Royal Princess of Tanitsar, gave birth to Prince Macro's firstborn daughter. Idina, Princess of the House of Odar, was born healthy of limbs and for the future Glory of Tanitsar!"

The good people of Tanitsar were still feeling the after effects of the celebrations four days earlier. Nevertheless, a great crowd formed in the streets for another night of celebrations.

Inside the Palace, there was a joyous atmosphere too, only moderated by the consideration for Alana and Thesia, who could not sit at the table yet. Instead, the entire royal family was camping out in Macro's private quarters. Four queens hovered around Thesia and Alana while also looking after Anais' well being, while Odar spent his days gazing at the two tiny infants who symbolised the future of his realm.

Not much was achieved by King or Vice-regent in the next weeks. Delegations from all over Tanitsar called on a daily basis offering felicitations and making certain that their loyalty was noted.

One notable group were the followers of Botho of Clonal who had refused to swear fealty to Odar in the aftermath of the battle before the Main Gate. Those nobles now offered to swear fealty to the future King Marlo and to those who "ruled in His stead until His ascension". Both Odar and Macro could live with this interpretation. After all, the union of Macro and Alana had been aimed at appeasing the followers of the old order. A short ceremony was held where Clonal's followers knelt before the infant boy on Macro's lap and swore allegiance. In return, the men were freed and allowed to return to their families and possessions.

Anais was almost three weeks earlier than anticipated. She woke in the middle of the night, announcing to Macro and her sister-wives that her water had broken. It was good that she gave birth early, for the child, a boy with black hair, was already fully developed.

The birth of a second royal prince caused another night of debauchery in the city of Tanitsar. The Royal Guard in particular celebrated, for the second-born son would one day command the Guard. Moreover, it was one of theirs who had given birth to the boy, and for the next days the Guardsmen on duty showed pained expressions whenever a loud command was given.

As soon as Anais had given birth, Odar and his queens unleashed Pilar. Royal caravelles sailed to all corners of the realm to invite the officers and nobles to the Naming Ceremony to be held in the Tanitsar Cathedral twenty-eight days hence. Of course, the invitations were also sent out to Hanilei and its Regent.

On the home front Pilar harnessed what resources were available. Over fifty years had passed since a celebration of similar magnitude had been held, and then the madness of King Lorsa had spoiled the festive mood. This time there would be no spoilers, if Pilar had any say in it. She worked herself raw and sore, never sleeping more than three or four hours each night, and going through four scribes on an average day. She was almost obsessed.

Still, Macro noticed a certain sadness about her when she regarded Thesia's little girl, and he could guess the reasons. Pilar longed to be loved, and she longed to be a mother now that her younger sister had given birth. She saw what Thesia had, and she wanted that fulfilment too.

Thesia saw it too, and she talked in private with her sister-wives. One evening when Macro was visiting a garrison further north, she intercepted Pilar as she was preparing to leave for her office.

"Pilar, would you stay just a little bit longer?"

Surprised, Pilar nodded. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Pilar, do you remember how we used to sleep in one bed, cuddling with each other and telling stories long into the night?"

A sad smile appeared on Pilar's face. "Yes, I do. That was before my mind became poisoned."

"Your mind is cleansed now. Would you join me tonight? You need the rest, I can see that."

"Are you serious, Thesia?"

Thesia nodded. "I want my sister back. I want to try out something too."

"What?"

"I'll tell you in bed."

Pilar looked about. "What about Alana and Anais?"

"Anais would love to cuddle with Silver Willow," Thesia grinned. "She said so, and I am certain that Alana is open to that idea too."

"What idea would that be?"

Thesia shook her head. "Humour me. Join us in bed. We don't bite – much!"

Pilar raised her eyebrows. "Naughty girl! I should tell on you."

"To whom?"

"Macro?"

"Please, do that. I am certain that the thought will get him aroused."

After some more coaxing, Pilar agreed. Thesia gave her one of her own nightshirts, and before long Pilar was in Macro's bed surrounded by royal flesh. Thesia joined them last, and she held tiny Idina in her arms. Scooting between her sister-wives she placed her daughter in Pilar's arms. Pilar melted instantly. Holding the tiny girl close she rocked her softly while tears ran down her cheeks.

"Pilar, we have two more children for you to hold and rock," Alana said softly. "They could be yours too."

Pilar looked at the other three. "What do you mean by that?"

"There is one more slot in Macro's bed, in Macro's heart, and in our hearts," Anais said solemnly. "Silver Willow, will you join Macro in marriage? Will you be our sister? Will you care for our children as we will care for your children? Will you love us the way we love you?"

"After all, Macro still needs a blonde to complete the set," Alana grinned.

"Does he know?" Pilar asked. "Can he accepts me at all with ... my scar?"

"Seriously?" Alana asked with arched eyebrows.

Pilar blushed. "He does not mind such things, does he?"

Thesia took her sister's hand. "Pilar, it was I who had reservations. The thought of us being together with Macro was – is – a little unsettling. We had grown so much apart. That's why I want to give it a try tonight, to see if I can sleep with my sister and not feel awkward."

Pilar nodded to that. "I can understand. Still, what if he has no feelings for me?"

Thesia grinned impishly. "I happened to sit in his lap when we first discussed you or Livia joining us. Believe me, he is interested."

Pilar's eyes went wide with understanding, but then she blushed. "Are you all ... together?"

Anais giggled. "Oh yes! It makes for a very happy prince. Alana snores when she's really worn out, but you'll get used to it."

"I do not!" Alana huffed.

"Do too!" Anais laughed. "Thesia is a serious cuddler, but you probably know that."

In spite of herself, Pilar laughed. "She's ticklish too."

"Don't. Even. Think. Of it!" Thesia exclaimed hugging her arms to herself.

Pilar turned serious again. "Thesia, are you sure? I don't want to come between you and Macro. Everybody can see the love between you, all of you I mean."

"Oh, you will come between them, but you'll like it, " Alana grinned.

"Seriously, Pilar. I want to try. If I cannot handle it I will tell you. Please promise me the same. If you join us, it must be of your free will and it must be your wish."

Pilar looked down at the tiny girl in her arm. It was not fair of Thesia to put the baby in her arms. How could she resist now? Did she even want to resist? She looked at her sister. How would it be to sleep in her arms again? They were not girls anymore. Thesia would be close by when Macro ... Pilar took a deep breath. There was an image in her head of Macro hovering over her, of his manhood entering her, his essence filling her, an image that quickened her pulse. She fought for control, for some semblance of reason, for a way to remain the person she wanted to project – the cool and efficient Pilar.

"Oh, well. If sleeping with you is the only way to get a good man on this island, so be it!"

Thesia returned little Idina to her crib and joined the three others lying close to her older sister. Pilar opened her arms in invitation.

"Come, little Thesia, snuggle up!"

It was only awkward during the first minutes, but soon happy memories helped them to feel comfortable. Pilar drew a sharp breath when she felt Anais against her back, but even that became assuring after a few moments.

"Being a harem girl has its perks," Pilar admitted to Thesia's giggle.

"Oh, Pilar! You have no idea!"

°°°

When Macro returned two days later, Thesia led him to the side.

"Macro, dearest. How do you feel about my sister?"

Macro smelled a rat immediately but he answered neutrally.

"I hold her in the greatest esteem. She is one of the most important and trustworthy courtiers, and I believe she will rise even higher with time."

"How do you like her as a person?"

"There is nothing to dislike about her. She seems unhappy though with her role."

"She is. She is insecure about her looks, about her scar, about being too skinny."

"She is very beautiful. It is true though that she would be even more beautiful if she were happier. What is on your mind, First Wife?"

The opening was too good. "A fourth wife. Pilar. Macro, you know that I was hesitant, even against it. I've had time to think. Pilar spent the last two nights with us. I wanted to see whether I can be comfortable in her presence, even if we do ... things."

"Things? What things?"

"The things to which your wives resort when the Prince of their hearts leaves them alone for some gambling and drinking with his soldiers."

"Oh, those things," Macro grinned. "Tell me, First Wife, have you tried those out with Pilar?"

"No, you naughty man! She's my sister! I watched though."

"Watched?"

"You want to know? Fine. Alana and Anais took turns on her driving her crazy, and I had to watch, and you weren't there for me!"

Macro chuckled. "Exciting?"

Thesia sighed theatrically. "You have no idea. I had no idea just how limber my older sister is. It must be those exercises with old Kiochi."

Macro corrected the seat of his pants. "You will pay for that," he promised. "How will she fit outside the bedroom?"

"She will be our Javila, the one how keeps our family running."

"Can she live with being the Fourth Wife to your First?"

"Macro, this is so silly anyway. Alana and Anais are my equal in every respect. Cannot we dispense with the ordinaries? At least among ourselves we should not think in this way."

"But you are my first wife."

"I don't want to outrank my sister-wives, now even less."

Macro gave her a soft kiss. "I shall speak with my mother and with Regula about it."

"Thank you. Now, what about Pilar?"

Macro took a deep breath. "You are all of a mind about this?"

Thesia nodded. "You know that it was I who was hesitant."

"Give me some time to mull this."

"Why don't you ask your mother for advice?" Thesia suggested.

"I know what she'll say. After all, Pilar is her protégé. No, I want to think about it in peace."

"We won't mention it until you are of a mind."

°°°

Contrary to his words, Macro knew pretty well that Pilar would be an exciting addition to his family. He respected her and trusted her judgement. He had doubts however whether Pilar was really willing to join them or whether his sweet wives had built up the pressure until she relented.

It so happened that Pilar had to visit the Vice-regent's Palace to discuss the security of the celebrations and the involvement of the Prince's Guard. She had her questions and suggestions neatly organised, and within an hour the conference wrapped up.

"I shall leave you to your duties now," she announced rising from her chair.

"Will you stay for a while longer, Pilar? I shall have a small meal, and I would appreciate your company."

Pilar raised her eyebrows. "Thesia's been talking to you?"

Macro smiled back. "Yes. And seeing how meddling your little sister can be, I wanted to speak to you alone and away from her ears."

"How can I refuse an invitation from the Vice-regent?" Pilar answered with a mock bow.

The food was served in Macro's private study. He was the perfect host, first serving his guest and seeing to her wishes before he helped himself. The food was ideal for a small meal: spicy bread with steamed vegetables and grilled sea fish. Pilar ate with appetite.

"You should keep to your meal times," Macro admonished her gently. "We care for you, and we would hate for you to work yourself to death."

"It's just one more week and there is..."

"Let other people carry their weight, Pilar. Remember, the palace worked before you arrived. Well, it works better now, even Mother acknowledges that, but you get my point."

"I know," Pilar sighed. "I am a terrible busy body."

"Not terrible, but you are a busy body. It's an asset, mind you, but you need to let go and delegate tasks on the less important issues."

"I can try. You did not keep me here to speak about my work habits?"

"No. Thesia suggested that you could join us as my wife. She made a good case for it, but you and I must decide this too. Thesia, Alana, and Anais have to agree, but you and I have to be willing. I will not lie to you. I find you a wonderful young woman. I like your savvy, your good nature, and the strong character you developed. I also find you beautiful, almost elfin."

Her right hand unconsciously felt for her scar, and Macro shook his head.

"That's only on the surface. I have learned to disregard small outward blemishes. I always held Alana for beautiful, even when she could not believe me. I look at you, and I also see only beauty. Besides, you came by that scar whilst saving our lives. How could I hold it against you then? The question I have for you is very simple – is it your wish, your desire, to join me and my wives in marriage? Do you want me to be your husband, can you share me with Thesia, Alana, and Anais? Can you love them too? Can you love our children?"

Pilar looked at him, her pale blue eyes wide open, and her mouth slightly opened. She stared at him like that for quite some time, but he could see that behind that look her mind was working furiously. In the end she gave him a hesitant smile.

"You said that you can respect me and trust me. Can you love me too? Like you love Thesia? Maybe that is asking too much. Can you love me like Alana or like Anais?"

"I believe I can," Macro answered calmly. "I think I may have loved you even when I did not like you, when you hurt Thesia and disrespected Alana."

"How stupid I was then! And yet you felt drawn to me?"

Macro just nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

"You are a strange man. I believe that I was attracted to you from the start, but you were Thesia's husband, and in my twisted mind I could not admit it to myself. I can now. If you will have me, you and your wives, I'll gladly be a part of your family."

"With your permission, I shall speak to your mother."

"I have no doubt what her answer will be, but it is in good style to ask her. Will you wait until after Mother agrees before you tell the others?"

"Of course," Macro nodded. Then he grinned. "I demand a kiss though to seal our promise."

That caused Pilar to smile. "I should love that."

°°°

The elite of Tanitsar visited for the naming ceremony. The Duke of Beyreth showed, as did the Steward of Tabar with his family. Not all of the nobles had received invitations, but quite a number of them had been loyal to Odar in the turmoils, and they sat in the foremost rows in the Cathedral. The most welcome guest was the new Regent of Hanilei, Lamas, with his two wives, Jolia and Livia. Lamas was very dignified now since he represented the Hani, and his wives played along. He had brought along old Brugar who served as First Minister, pretty much doing what he had done before when he was still an Elderman. Envoys from other neighbouring states had arrived too, and King Odar looked proudly at the assembled crowd when the deacon started the ceremony.

The infants were named in the order of their birth, each of them presented to the deacon by all three of Macro's wives together symbolising the shared motherhood. When the deacon was finished, King Odar stood to announce that Marlo and Tamas were Princes Royal of the House of Odar, third and fourth in the line of succession, and that Idina was a Princess Royal.

The dignitaries and visitors then rose from their seats in the Cathedral to join in the vows to protect the princes and the princess and to uphold their claims against all enemies, domestic and foreign.

°°°

Pilar had been working tirelessly behind the scenes, directing the efforts of the servants and officials. She was so engrossed in her efforts that she only noticed Javila's presence when the queen tapped her shoulder. She turned and looked at Javila and Eloa.

"Oh, it is you. Why are you not..."

"It is still a few moments until the deacon will start. Come now, Pilar! You need to dress properly."

Pilar looked down at her dress of blue silk. "This is my best dress!"

Javila grinned at her confidante and protégé. "Not really fitting for a bride."

Pilar's eyes went wide. "To ... today?"

"We have all the dignitaries already here. What better opportunity can there be?"

Eloa smiled at her daughter. "Rush, my child. I cannot wait to see my daughter as princess."

"You already have a daughter who is a princess," Pilar reminded her.

"But I could not be there for her wedding. Come now, we have your wedding dress ready."

"But..."

"Macro told me that you are in agreement. Are you not?"

"I am, but this is so sudden!"

"Oh pooh! It needs to be done now!" Javila insisted. "After all this perfect planning you did for this ceremony, I could not organise your wedding for fear of falling short. Besides, my son does not want to wait, and his wives insist too."

"They all knew?"

"Well, not all the time. We told them yesterday."

Pilar took a deep breath. "You should have told me!"

"Gods, girl! You would have worked yourself to death if you had known the full purpose of this celebration," Eloa answered. "Come now. Your groom and your sister-wives await you."

"But I was not prepared!"

"Just say, 'I do and I shall' when the deacon asks," Javila shrugged. "There's not much to it."

°°°

When the naming ceremony was closed, and King Odar had acknowledged the infants as princes and princess of his house, there was a short lull. The guests did not really know what to expect next, but they were surprised when Price Macro and his three wives rose and stepped forward. A side door opened, and all eyes swivelled to the left where a scared looking Pilar emerged wearing a dress of pure white silk. She did not wear the tiara that signified her standing but a wreath of fresh marigolds, the traditional head dress of Hani brides.

Thesia met her half way and took her hand. "Come now, Pilar. We cannot wait for you to be one of us!"

"You should have told me!" Pilar whispered.

"And spoil Javila's surprise?" Thesia smiled. "Not likely."

She led her sister before the deacon who took a deep breath.

"Do you, Macro, of the House of Odar, Prince and Vice-regent of Tanitsar, take the here present Pilar, daughter of Lutar, as your wife? Will you honour her with words and deeds, will you protect her with your body, and will you accept her children as yours?"

"I do and I shall!" Macro answered smiling at his bride.

"Do you, Thesia, Alana, and Anais, wives of Prince Macro, accept Pilar, daughter of Lutar, as sister-wife in your house? Will you respect her, accept her as your sister-wife, care for her in illness, and accept her children as your own?"

"We do and we shall," Thesia, Alana, and Anais replied in chorus.

"Do you, Pilar, daughter of Lutar, join Macro, Prince and Marshal of Tanitsar, in marriage of your free will? Will you honour him with words and deeds, will you care for his needs and comfort him in time of illness and hurt?"

"I do and I shall," a dazed Pilar answered.

"Will you respect Prince Macro's wives and accept them as your sister-wives? Will you care for them in illness, and will you treat their children as your own?"

"I shall!" There was a smile on Pilar's face now.

"May fate smile on you and your union. May illness and death shy away from your house, and may your union bear multiple fruit for the glory of Tanitsar!"

It was only their second kiss, but it broke the spell for Pilar. She pressed herself against her new husband with all her strength.

"I do love you, Macro!" she whispered, loud enough to be overheard in the front rows of seats.

Next she found herself in her sister's arms. "I'm so happy for you!" Thesia whispered.

"I love you too, little sister!" Pilar whispered back fighting her tears.

Alana's hug lacked nothing in warmth either. "Welcome, Sister!"

"Thank you for accepting me," Pilar answered.

Anais was last. "I am happy, Silver Willow. You complete us!"

Pilar blushed, not the least because she could feel Anais' body against her own. She felt strongly for the black haired woman. "I feel complete with you too."

King Odar had opened his coffers for this celebration. All over the city, wines and ales were doled out to the people, and ten oxen were roasted over coal. That was not all. Double-guilders, gold coins, had been minted showing Macro's face on one side, and the Tanitsar coat-of-arms on the opposite side. Those coins were now given out one each to every family head in Odar's kingdom to commemorate the occasion.

Only the Guard troops abstained from the drunken festivities – they would have a separate celebration a few days later. All the rest of Tanitsar, however, made use of food and drink late into the night. It was the greatest festivity ever recorded in Tanitsar's history.

By the time the darkness fell, Macro and his wives had already retired. The ever faithful Tamar and Ella had readied the newly built bathhouse in Macro's wing of the palace, and this was where they assembled once the children had been delivered into the care of the nurses. The huge bronze bathtub was filled with scented water, and in no time Macro and his wives disrobed. Pilar was not body-shy – Kiochi had seen to that. Thus, she only hesitated briefly before joining her new husband and her sister-wives.

Thesia made her sister sit at Macro's right side. Then she sat with Anais and Alana on the opposite side, hugging them both and watching Pilar and Macro as they exchanged the first tender caresses. From the few nights spent together, Thesia already knew that her sister, sinewy as she appeared, was not devoid of female attributes. Her breasts were small but firm and perfectly formed, with the same small nipples as Thesia's. Her pubic hair was almost white and sparse, but her hips flared just enough to show that she was a grown woman.

"She is so beautiful! She's like an elf!" Anais whispered into Thesia's ear.

"Oh yes, she is," Alana sighed dreamily. Anais and Alana had had opportunities to sample Pilar's charms.

Thesia felt her face heat up. The sisters had so far tacitly agreed to keep their relationship to a close cuddle, but Thesia knew that at some point they would have to make that last step if only to prevent a rift in their fabric of love. She sighed.

"Come now, Thesia! She's lovely! It's not as if by being with her, one of you will have deformed children," Alana admonished her. "Free yourself. I know that she is dying to do it with you, if only to seal your reconciliation."

That thought had not occurred to Thesia. "How can she still doubt?"

"She doesn't. She just needs our acceptance, and yours even more than ours," Anais added. "How about you'll cradle her head in your lap when Macro'll break her maidenhood? Lana and I can handle the tasty parts, can't we?"

"I'm sure we can," Alana chuckled.

"Look! They're kissing! Awww! It's so sweet," Anais purred.

Thesia looked at Macro and Pilar. Indeed the two were kissing deeply, seemingly lost in their own little world. Thesia felt a small pang of jealousy, which she suppressed by offering her own lips to Alana. Yet, even whilst kissing her sister-wives, Thesia kept herself aware of what Macro and her sister were doing. Then Pilar's eyes opened and they focussed on Thesia. There was a silent plea for acceptance in Pilar's eyes, and something inside Thesia melted.

She freed herself from Alana's embrace and sat close to Pilar. Hesitating only a little, she bent her head and fastened her mouth on her sister's tiny pink nipple. She suckled softly, alternating between lip-nibbling and tongue-circling, and she could hear her sister moaning into Macro's mouth. Looking down, she could see how Macro's manhood broke the surface of the bath water and she felt giddy.

Pilar's hands were on Macro's head, framing his face. With a small chuckle, Thesia took one of her sister's hands and placed it softly on Macro's straining member. Bride and groom inhaled sharply and Thesia giggled.

"One word of advice from this old matron: you two need to go upstairs and to bed."

Pilar reached out and pulled Thesia's head up. Their lips met in a kiss, first hesitant and then growing in intensity. Finally, Pilar let go and looked deep into Thesia's eyes.

"Will you guide me through this night, sister?"

Thesia nodded, finally certain of her feelings. "With pleasure, sister!"

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This story was edited by SpikeCO and Erik Thread

I am grateful for their help and support.


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The End
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Posted:  2012-10-07
Last Modified: 2012-11-16 / 12:00:51 pm
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