Birthright (3 page)

It was easy to pick out even in low light which horses were hers; none of the others’ backs topped the sides of the stalls, but hers did. Their pale palomino backs stood out against the darker browns of the boards, too. Elrik stared at them, green eyes wide, then stared at her as she opened one of the stall doors, slipping inside to join her chief mount, who had been placed in the one loose-box in the barn. There was plenty of hay heaped in the corner for her to sleep upon, and tall enough that, even accidentally, her steed wouldn’t be likely to step on her.

“Those mountains are yours? How do you even get up onto one?”

“With lots of practice,” she chuckled, rubbing the mare’s flank. “This one is Thunder; that one is Cloud, and the one on the other side is Lake.”

“They all look alike to me,” Elrik muttered. “You’re rather brave, sharing a stall with one of them. Aren’t you afraid of being stepped on?”

“They’re very well trained. And sleeping with them on hand to protect me is good self defense for a woman traveling on her own. Even if I do get tired of the smell of hay and horse at night,” she quipped dryly. Thunder nudged her with a long golden nose, whuffling horse-breath down her chest. Arasa scratched around her crest.

“Ah,” Elrik pointed at a dark brown mare off to one side. “My horse—singular—is in that stall over there. Juniper. She’s half mountain pony, so her legs are short, but she’s sturdy and friendly. So long as we don’t go too fast, she should be able to keep up with your ladies.” Elrik wanted to linger, but knew he shouldn’t impose too much. “I’ll, ah, bid you good night, and see you at breakfast, then.”

“Good night,” Arasa agreed. She watched him leave, then settled down into the hay. Disappointment at seeing him go was tempered by the thought of seeing him again in the morning…and for the next month or so, on the journey back to Ijesh. That thought pleased her. Not only was he intelligent, funny, and good at both speaking and listening, she found his pale, freckled skin and coppery-red curls exotic.

Most everyone in the Flame Sea was a heavily tanned blond, their hair and skin matching the color of their homeland. There were darker-haired people, which was somewhat exotic, but not terribly uncommon. Usually, they were foreigners, or descendants of foreigners. Redheads, though, were rare, and freckled redheads even more unusual. Such skin tended to burn easily, or so she had heard.

She hoped he had some spell or ointment to protect his pale skin from the desert sun. It might be early autumn and thus not the worst time of the year to be crossing the expanse of sun-broiled sand known as the Inner Sea—so-named for its slowly shifting dunes and shimmering heat waves—but it wasn’t the best time, either. Summer anywhere in the Empire, other than the cooler climate of the hills of Kumré, the region bordering the Frost Wall, was not the best time to travel. At least not during the daytime. There was a very sound reason for calling her homeland the Flame Sea.

T
hree
weeks. Elrik had been traveling with Arasa for three weeks now, enduring the thankfully lessening heat of midday as autumn progressed, though it meant the nights were correspondingly colder. The air around them was warm enough to cause heat shimmers and trickles of sweat, but whenever he thought about the chance of being with her intimately, shivers of anticipation, fear, and desire prickled down his spine. Three weeks was enough time to become fascinated with the woman, even infatuated. Ever respectful, since she hadn’t behaved with anything above a warm sort of friendship so far, but he was drawn to her all the same.

He hadn’t noticed her eyes at first, since they had initially met in a lamp-lit tavern. They were taupe, a light grayish-beige, bland, yet undeniably unusual. He’d heard that some Imperials had odd, desert-hued eyes, but this was the first time he had actually seen such a thing. Her hair was pale even for a desert-dweller, platinum-blond and almost white. Most of the time she wore it wrapped up in her turban, but she unbound it each night and morning so she could unbraid and brush out her rib-length locks, then replait them again to keep them tidy while riding or sleeping.

Her soft waves were very different from his own vigorous, crinkly, coppery curls, though the lengths were about the same. If one didn’t stretch out one of his locks, that was. Stretched out, his hair would fall below his backside. She had touched his hair a couple of times and blushed, muttering something about just being curious, but it gave him hope that she was interested in him. But he didn’t press beyond a few touches, a hug, and an occasional, brief kiss.

Elrik wanted more, much more, but for one, she seemed the reserved type. For another, they were now firmly in the desert. The hot, dusty, gritty desert. Except for at night, when it became the cold, dusty, gritty desert.

Even if there weren’t a threat of sand grains getting everywhere, should they engage in further intimacies, there were sand-demons to worry about, which meant taking turns resting and guarding against the beasts. The scaly creatures literally swam through the sand and their sting was quite toxic, inducing paralysis. Regular steel wouldn’t kill them, either; it would hurt them, but their wounds healed unbelievably fast.

Rumor had it they were the remnants of a terrible, ancient magical war, and thus had been enchanted to be difficult to slay. Only silver could leave lasting harm, and only a silvered blade could dispatch the tough little beasts. Most everyone in the Flame Sea carried a silvered knife at the very least for that reason, while others carried silvered swords, or silver-tipped spears that could double as walking staffs.

He didn’t carry a sword, but he did have a mage-staff with a recessed silvered steel spike that could be spring-triggered at one end. But neither swords nor staves were easy to use when engaged in amorous activities. And when they did pass through a city on their journey north, she continued to sleep in the stables with her horses. He didn’t want to offend her by pressing the matter too much, but it was rather frustrating not to be able to find either time or opportunity to coax her into a decent bed.

Watching her as she checked her Wall-Finder, the compass used to successfully navigate the great expanses of desert wilderness that composed much of the Empire, he wished she’d broken her pattern of avoidance back in the city of Ido-esh. It was their last civilized stop before reaching the religious city of Ijesh, according to his hostess and guide. She had made use of a bathhouse attached to the inn selected for their stay, but had retired to the stables to sleep, leaving him in sole possession of a small but private room.

At least he’d been able to relieve his needs within its privacy. Self-ministration wasn’t nearly as satisfying as a romp with a beautiful woman, of course, but at least it was some source of relief. Grimacing, Elrik adjusted his broad-brimmed, conical sun-hat, which gave him more shade than a mere turban, and nudged his mare into following her down the slope of the next dune.

Arasa glanced back at him. He was keeping up with her, though his mare was slowing her down a little. The shorter horse had neither the longer legs nor the exceptionally broad hooves of her own steeds, hooves that supported them on the shifting sands better than narrower surfaces would. She was surprised the half-pony mare had kept up so well. And despite the odd-looking Kumronite hat, he wasn’t suffering too badly in the autumn midday heat.

She was also aware of a growing masculine frustration in her traveling companion. She felt a similar, feminine version of frustration, since it had been about two years since her last romp in the blankets. Increasing duties and obligations to her family had supplanted most opportunities, and her quest over the last year to settle which twin was the firstborn had chased away the rest. But he was exotically handsome, engagingly amusing, delightfully well educated, and very, very charming.

It was tempting to rent a room for herself, rather than sleeping with her horses, very tempting, but the more she got to know Elrik of Snow Leaper Tribe, the more she found she didn’t want to just have a temporary fling with him. She valued his company…to the point of imagining what it would be like if he ever wanted to stay with her beyond the scope of this little quest. And therein lay the problem.

Having avoided most questions about her lineage and parentage, speaking only in broad, vague terms regarding her kin and her “family business,” it was going to be awkward, telling him the full truth. On the one hand, she wouldn’t mind making love with him while they were just Elrik and Arasa. To be wanted just for
herself,
not for what she had been born, was too novel and delightful to give up. It was why she had kept silent about her kin. The full truth would only have gotten in the way.

Well, at first, she hadn’t told him the truth because she was too far from home, and all on her own. That kind of knowledge could lead to trouble, being the kind of secret that could tempt a man to morally stray, even from a Truth Stone confession that he wasn’t usually interested in spilling such things to others. However, the more they journeyed together, the more she thought he was trustworthy and might accept her confession without being too upset at her previous silence.

But on the other hand, she had been lying to him by omission. If they made love, and
then
he found out who and what she was…well, it would be awkward at best, and deceitful-seeming at worst. Which meant that every
selijm
closer to Ijesh they traveled, the more nervous she was about revealing the truth. She couldn’t ride into the Womb of the Empire—what an appropriate name for a city carved out of old caves, now that she knew—without someone recognizing her and spilling the secret. Because it wasn’t a secret in Ijesh. And from the top of that dune, she had seen the first signs of the hard desert that contained the canyons hosting Ijesh and Adanjé-nal.

Cloud, whom she was riding today, slowed at the subconscious signals of her reluctant rider. Elrik’s shorter mare caught up with her, drawing even as they started up the slope of a modest-sized dune. He adjusted the palm-woven hat covering him from shoulder to shoulder again as a warm, dusty breeze gusted around them. “Is something wrong?”

It’s now or never, and you like him too much for the consequences of “never,”
Arasa reminded herself. Bracing herself, she nodded. “Yes, there is. I, um, haven’t been fully forthcoming with you. If you haven’t noticed. Regarding my kin.”

“I noticed. Are they secretly horrible people, under the surface?” Elrik asked. “You made them sound rather nice.”

That was far enough off the mark, it made her chuckle. “No, they’re not horrible. They’re just…socially prominent.”

“Ah. So you’re
not
UnShijn, after all.” He paused a moment, then asked, “If they’re socially prominent…are they a Family, rather than a mere Clan?”

“You could say that,” she couldn’t help hedging, staring at the hardpan ground in the distance. They still had several
selijm
to travel before reaching the first of the ravines that would slope down into the valleys and crevasses hiding the capital. She reminded herself again that it was better to tell him now, while he still had time to adjust to the full truth.

“Well, either they are an Am’n, or they aren’t. Which one is it?”

“Am’n Adanjé.” She glanced sideways to gauge his reaction. His green eyes had narrowed in skepticism.

“Am’n
Adanjé
?
The
Ruling Family of the Empire?” Elrik could hardly believe her. It had to be a joke. Even a cousin of the Royal Blood wouldn’t be allowed to travel across the Empire without an escort, yet here was Arasa, traveling with just three overgrown…palomino…Imperial Mares, he realized suddenly, wincing internally for having been so oblivious to the truth.

Arasa saw that wince, and cleared her throat. “Well…yes. I didn’t mention it earlier because it isn’t always wise to announce such a fact when one visits the Frost Wall. Or in the northeast corner of the Cloth Wall, up by the Ebrinnish Border. Even if you turned out be trustworthy enough—and you have,” she quickly reassured him, “—there are always others who might have overheard, and tried to take advantage of that fact.”

Facts gathered and collided in Elrik’s head. She was a member of the Royal Family; she was one of a set of twins; and she was trying to determine who was firstborn, on a quest so serious she’d been willing to travel into Kumron of all places. The capital was a long way from the mountains comprising the southern border of the Empire, but even he had heard rumors of the royal heirs being twins. He just hadn’t paid any attention to their names.

He was riding alongside, talking with—and lusting after—a royal princess. His wince came back, turning into a grimace as he looked away.
No wonder she didn’t want to be “alone” with me. I’m nothing more than a quarter-breed, with most of me a barbarian Kumronite. Educated and traveled, but still a common foreigner.

“I didn’t tell you at first, because it was safer that way. But once you refrain from mentioning something, it’s just easier to keep from mentioning it, so long as it remains unimportant to the needs of the moment,” Arasa explained. “But I’m going to be recognized when we get to Ijesh. And if I didn’t tell you before then, when it would be revealed by others, you’d think…well, who knows what. I didn’t know you at the start of our journey,” Arasa admitted, “but now that I do…I wanted you to know.”

Elrik nodded. She was letting him down easy, saving him from the embarrassment of trying anything further with her. Ordinary men like him didn’t get to have relationships with princesses, however nice and normal that princess might seem. “I understand.”

“I’m glad. I know I’ve pushed to get back to Ijesh, barely even stopping for a bath, but the sooner this question of the succession is settled, the happier I’ll be,” she sighed. “That, and Ijesh is a lot safer for me. Everyone knows who I am, so I don’t have to be on the lookout for trouble. And, to be truthful, if I had let myself be distracted by you, I would’ve been
too
distracted.

“Normally, some of the Imperial Bodyguard would have accompanied me, but Father didn’t want it widely known that the question of who exactly is firstborn is so important. Going all over the place with an entourage wouldn’t exactly be quiet…and this is something that has to be proven on my own. Or my sister’s own. One of us has what it takes to rule the Empire, but it’s supposed to be found within us, put there by the Gods,” she explained. “The First Emperor didn’t conquer by the might of an army; he ruled by a special covenant between him and the Mother Goddess.”

A thought crossed Elrik’s unsettled mind. “If you’re of the Royal Blood, then you could command any of the mages at the Academy in Ijesh to do your bidding. Why did you accept my offer to accompany you?”

“Three reasons. One, I don’t like traveling alone, and you were proving to be a good conversationalist, even that early in the evening. Two, you gave me a tap from Djindji-Taje’s Right Hand, saving me an utterly unnecessary and potentially quite dangerous trip into Kumron. I owed you for that. If you wanted to go to Ijesh, I’d help you get there. And three…” Shrugging diffidently, she told him the truth. “I was attracted to you, and wanted to get to know you, in case it had the potential to go somewhere. I may be ‘of the Royal Blood,’ as you put it, but I’m still quite normal.”

Elrik glanced sharply at her. That sounded like…He adjusted his conical hat again, which was being tugged at by the wind now that they were off the up-and-down swells of the dunes. “What do you mean by that?”

She eyed him askance, wondering why he hadn’t picked up on her meaning. Somewhere along the way, they had crossed paths in a misunderstanding. Arasa addressed him bluntly to compensate. “I
mean,
I’m still very interested in you. Being a perfectly normal female, and having traveled in the company of an intelligent, amusing, handsome man for the last three weeks’ ride, I would very much like to know if you’d mind my jumping all over you, once we get to Ijesh….
After
we bathe, of course. I have grit in places only a sand-demon would enjoy.”

That was
too
blunt. It shocked a laugh out of Elrik, not expecting royalty to be quite so forthright. She joined him, chuckling. Shaking his head—carefully holding his palm-woven hat—he asked, “How did you manage to be so…
normal,
growing up as a princess?”