Princess of Amathar (33 page)

The building was fairly typical of those in this part of the city. It was about one hundred stories tall, and covered an entire city block at its base. In the way of Amatharian architecture, it was smooth over most of its surface, with the corners covered in highly detailed, carved stone. It had numerous balconies looking down on us. It was a rich coral color, and was just a shade lighter than the edifices to either side of it.

“Come inside.”

I followed Nevin Lorrinos into the lobby of the building. There was quite a bit of activity going on around. The building was evidently just being finished. Workers in green-yellow jump suits were finishing walls, running thick wire cables through the walls, and painting ceilings. The escalators were operational, and we walked up them to the seventieth floor. By the time I stepped off the moving stairway, I was puffing a bit, but the old Amatharian seemed completely unaffected. He led me to a balcony looking out over the city.

“This is a fine building, is it not?” he said.

“It is beautiful,” I replied truthfully.

“I ordered construction started here the day that I became Kurar Ka.”

I had already come to understand the Amatharian fascination with creating things that last. In this great city, every building, every feature was planned to last an eternity. Perhaps it was because of the Amatharian’s lack of understanding of time which made them so concerned with permanency. This building had been under construction for a long time, and now it was to become the newest addition to the Sun Clan and the city.

“Did you design it yourself?” I asked.

“No. This was the last architectural project of Kennis Berrontar. I knew that our fortunes would be expanding, and we needed additional room to grow. In fact, we have grown more than I had expected, and this is just one of several new Sun Clan buildings which I have added. Some of the others are smaller and, though they were begun after this one, are already productive parts of the organization.”

“What is it that I am supposed to do here?” I asked.

“Live,” he replied. “You will live here and when your family expands, they will live here as well. And whatever business concerns your family acquires will be run from this building too. I have already made arrangements for the shops and restaurants on the lower levels to be staffed by other families in the clan— your extended family. After several generations, your immediate family will be large enough to assume those operations.” When he said ‘my immediate family’, I of course understood it to mean all of my descendants.

“Well, thank you for arranging all of this for me,” I said, “and I do have to live somewhere, don’t I?”

“I must get back to a meeting,” the Overlord said, then pointed to a doorway just down the corridor from the balcony. “That is your apartment.”

After watching him depart down the escalator, I walked toward my new home. Like all the doors in the great city, this one slid open to the side, and had no locking mechanism at all. It opened into a small foyer, which in turn, led into a beautifully spacious living room. It was even larger than Norar Remontar’s, though there were some similarities. It had a high vaulted ceiling with a balconied upper level facing a two story window which looked down upon the building’s courtyard. I climbed the spiral staircase to the balcony, the walls of which were covered with book shelves, and I poked my head into each of the rooms adjacent to it. There was a study with a writing desk and a mail station. And there were two guest rooms, each with a large bathroom attached. Making my way back downstairs I found an immense kitchen and a formal dining room capable of seating several dozen. A hallway led to a lounge and four more bedrooms, again each possessing a bathroom as large as itself. The last room left for me to examine was the master bedroom. After seeing the opulence of the rest of the apartment, I was expecting something particularly grand. In one way I was disappointed. To Amatharian eyes, the Kurar slept just the same as any other member of the family, and require no additional space. The master bedroom, if one may refer to it as such, was no larger than any of the other bedrooms in the home. It was just large enough to contain a wash basin resting on a stone pedestal, two Amatharian dressers with their open cubby-hole arrangements in place of drawers, and a large Amatharian bed, sunken into the floor and covered with faux animal skins. In a second, and more important way, I was not at all disappointed, for laying upon the bed, smiling warmly at me, was Vena Remontar.

“What do you think of my new home?” I asked her.

“More importantly, what do you think of it?”

“It’s pretty impressive,” I admitted. “I never imagined that I would one day be living in any dwelling as fine as this, let alone in the city of Amathar.”

“It is an important home, as befits an important member of the clan,” she said. “This indicates that you have achieved a high status among our people. Nevin Lorrinos thinks highly of you, and I know a great many other people who do as well.”

“Are you one of those people?” I wondered.

“Which people?”

“Those who think highly of me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Of course not.”

My heart sank.

“Still,” she continued. “I have decided that I will have you.”

“Huh?”

“I have decided that you will be my husband,” she said, rising to her feet, walking toward me, and touching my face with the palm of her hand. “Who else would want you?”

“I don’t care if anyone wants me,” I said, “as long as I have you.”

“And you shall.”

Chapter Thirty Three: Relations

Vena Remontar and I sat on the sofa in my new living room and talked for what I am sure were many long hours, though she insisted that it had only been a moment. I was not inclined to argue the issue with my betrothed. My betrothed. What a wonderful sound that had in my mind. I said it silently to myself over and over again. At last she stood up and announced that she was off to serve her turn of duty at the airfield. I smiled as I recalled that it was the airfield where we had first met. She kissed me tenderly, and all too quickly, was gone.

I fixed myself a bowl of fruit for lunch, or dinner, or breakfast, or I really didn’t know what, and had just finished, when the disembodied voice of the door announcer chose to speak.

“Neela Esponar and Nona Montendro are waiting at the door.”

I opened the door to find my two young kinsmen were waiting. Each was carrying a large clear crate full of assorted articles which I recognized as mine.

“Greetings kinsman,” said Nona Montendro.

“Greetings cousin,” said Neela Esponar. She used the term four fourth cousin once removed.

“Greetings to you, my aunts,” I replied teasingly. “What brings you so far from home.”

“We are not very far at all,” said Nona Montendro.

“We are old enough to go anywhere in the city,” said Neela Esponar. “Besides, Norar Remontar instructed us to bring your things over.”

“He must be in a hurry to get rid of me,” I commented, causing both girls to start giggling.

“We are very glad to see that you made it home safely,” said one of the girls, I forget which one.

“And that you performed bravely,” said the other.

“Things worked out.”

“Will you tell us some of your adventures,” asked Nona Montendro.

“I will. But first I must tell you, I am sorry to say, that I lost the token you gave me,” I recalled having it before my encounter with the Bloobnoob, but hadn’t been able to find it since. I supposed I must have lost it in their lair.

“It was just a girl-pin,” she said. I didn’t really know what that meant at the time, and to tell the truth, I haven’t researched it since. Young women and boys too, in Amathar, participate in special ceremonies to mark their passage through various stages of development. At these times, they receive small insignia which they proudly display. I believe that the “girl-pin” was one such childhood stage insignia. After depositing my things in a corner, the girls sat down on the floor of the living room. I poured the three of us glasses of cold water, and sitting down, I began to tell the story of my adventures since I had seen them last. I told them of the aerial assault on the Zoasian city of Zonamis, and the pursuit of the Princess, though I left out the horrors of the subterranean Zoasian death camp. I related the events surrounding the rescue of the Princess from the Uursh Poch, and of our capture and subsequent release by the Zoasians. This in particular was fascinating for them, as they had spent much time in their lessons, learning of Zoasians. I told them of the ancient flying city and of living with the flyers for a time. I told them of crossing a small sea on a raft and of fighting the Bloobnoob in their tunnels under the river, of our discovery of Norar Remontar’s wrecked ship and of our subsequent return to Amathar.

“Nicohl Messonar is waiting at the door,” said the automated voice. Both of the young girls turned a lighter shade of blue.

“Are you two neglecting your lessons?” I chided, as I went to open the front door.

“It seems that I have three neglectful students, instead of only one,” said my tutor, when the door had been pushed aside.

“Uh, oh,” I said.

“We were just leaving,” said Nona Montendro, pushing past me and the Amatharian teacher. “Farewell, kinsman.”

“Farewell, cousin,” said Neela Esponar, and they were both gone.

“It is important that we stress the importance to our young people, of learning,” said Nicohl Messonar.

“Of course...”

“That is why our young girls should be at their studies, and not spending all of their time with a virtual illiterate.”

“I... illiterate?”

“There should be a verb in that sentence.”

“Well, I’m doing the best I can,” I protested, finally finding my voice.

“That is not true at all,” the older woman replied. “You are doing remarkably well for some one virtually unschooled, and by all reports, not particularly bright, but you are not doing your best. I read your report to Nevin Lorrinos and it was the worst piece of writing by anyone old enough to walk that I have ever seen. There is not a single sentence with correct grammar in the entire paper, and do not even mention your penmanship to me.”

“I don’t think my penmanship is that...”

“I said not to mention that. You will reapply yourself to your studies.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You will meet with me every twenty city-cycles in the instruction room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are Kurar now, and you have certain responsibilities.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nicohl Messonar clasped my face in her hands, and kissed me on the cheek. “I am glad that you have returned home safely,” she said, smiling.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Farewell, kinsman,” she said, turning and heading for the door. “I will see you at our next appointment.”

I felt truly drained. I have never been one that could be called a social animal. People never came to my door, and certainly not in sequence, at least not before I came to live in Amathar, in the world of Ecos. In fact, now that I think of it, I never had anyone stop by my door when I lived on Earth. I never went to anyone else’s door either. The only time that I really visited with friends was at work. Of course, I only had the means to go visiting or have someone else over to my house a few times, and then for only a very short time. When I was in the army, it was not known for encouraging visitors. For that matter, neither was the orphanage. I had lived on my own in college and then again just before my arrival in Ecos, and in both of those situations together, I probably had fewer visitors than I had to my new home in Amathar that first day. And the day was not yet over. Of course the day never really is over here. I stripped out of my tabard and jumpsuit and, walking into my own bathroom, slid into the tub. It was typical of tubs in the great city, and would have been called a Jacuzzi or even a small pool back in the U.S.A. It remained filled at times, through a constant flow of fresh warm water entered from a small waterfall at one end. After scrubbing myself, I stayed in, floating, until my fingers and toes were like prunes. Children like to stay in the water till they have prune-fingers; at least I did as a child, though I never had much opportunity. There was always someone else waiting for the tub. Here in Amathar, anyone would have felt like they were living in the lap of luxury. I certainly did. When I climbed out, I dried off, and crawled immediately into bed. I felt a pang of guilt at not practicing my grammar before I dozed off, but I had little planned for the near future, and I reasoned that there was plenty of time for schooling. I was asleep in a moment and spent an undetermined amount of time in a magical garden where little flames danced around my betrothed and me as we ate a picnic lunch of fried chicken and baked beans, on a table cloth made from the skin of a large plaid animal. I woke up feeling rested and relaxed.

I lazily opened my eyes and saw my Vena Remontar standing in the doorway.

“Greetings,” I said, and suddenly realized that it was not Vena Remontar at all. It was Noriandara Remontar. I sat up and looked carefully. It was not Vena Remontar or Noriandara Remontar. It was Mindana Remontar, my future mother-in-law. “Um, hello.”

“Come into the living room,” she said, turning on a heel. “We need to talk.”

I stood up and realized with a certain amount of horror, that I had left not only my clean clothes sitting in the living room, but my dirty clothes as well. It was not so much that I minded Mindana Remontar seeing how casually I left discarded clothing lying around the house, although now that I started to think about it, that was not good either. It was that I had nothing with which to cover myself. I retrieved a towel from beside the tub, and wrapping it around my waist; I poked my head out of the bedroom door.

“Could you possibly bring me some of my clothes?” I asked.

She brought me a clean black bodysuit from the pile that the girls had brought me. As she handed it to me, she looked me up and down.