Mission To Mahjundar (17 page)

As their party rode out from under the last trees at the edge of the vast clearing where Bandarlok had his seasonal headquarters, Mike found a huge crowd awaiting them. The massed nomadic clans, each standing clustered beside tall staffs bearing their particular insignia, made for an imposing display. There were several hundred men, women, and children gathered to welcome Shalira to her new home. As he rode closer to the assemblage, Mike assessed the mood of the crowd. S
omething’s seriously off for what’s supposed to be a joyful occasion. This bunch is pretty reserved, watchful. I don’t like it, but none of this is my business. All Command wants me to do is get on with my own assignment, stop taking unrelated detours.
 

Mike watched as Bandarlok walked his horse along the entire line of his people, so they could all see Shalira. There was total silence, which Mike found puzzling, ominous. As if feeling distress or strong emotion, a few of the women in the crowd hid their faces as the chief and his bride-to-be rode by. Bandarlok drew his horse to a halt in front of a small wooden fence, behind which ornately patterned tents loomed. He handed Shalira down to two men who stepped forward to receive her.
 

Mike tried to edge his horse forward to see and hear more clearly, but the clan riders who’d been with Bandarlok on the trail closed in, blocking his access.

As the chief swung from his horse and took Shalira by the hand, a woman walked out of the gate to meet them. Tall, built as solidly as Bandarlok himself, she was dressed in blue robes accented with colorfully embroidered bartuks on the sleeves and at the hem. On her head she wore a filet of rose gold. Shalira looked like a child next to this newcomer.

Mike leaned close to the nearest rider. “Who’s the lady?”

“Bandarlok’s Chief Wife, Arananta,” the man said before the warrior on the other side poked him in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.

Chief wife?
Mike and Johnny exchanged glances. Had Shalira known she wasn’t coming here to be Bandarlok’s only wife, or even first among the harem? He made a mental note to talk to Saium about the topic later, once the welcoming ceremonies were over.

He couldn’t hear the words, but he knew Shalira well enough by now to tell she was stressed, even while her bearing remained regal. Arananta took Shalira by the hand and drew her inside the wooden fence, painted gates swinging shut behind them. Armed guards took up their posts and the next thing Mike knew, he and Johnny were being escorted across the open expanse of greenery, toward Bandarlok. The clanspeople were streaming in all directions, going about their business matter-of-factly, no one lingering to talk about the newly arrived princess.

Mike dismounted after he rode up to Bandarlok.

The chief gestured expansively as if the day’s events had put him in a jovial mood. “You’ll stay the night with us, Major Varone? I’m entertaining other guests as well—some chiefs from the east with whom I make an alliance. But we’ll decree the feast to be in your honor as well. The least I can do, if I’m not supplying guides. Send you on your way to the Djeelaba with good food, soft women, and strong wine as your last memories, eh?"
 

“You’re too kind, but we must be on the trail as soon as possible,” Mike demurred. “We lost a lot of time escorting the princess.”

“Nonsense, one more night won’t hurt anything. The dead outworlder comrades you seek won’t be any more deceased if you come upon them a day later, now will they? I insist.” Bandarlok guffawed, slapping his thigh genially, but it was plain they weren’t going to leave his camp this night. “My men will escort you to the tent we keep for visitors. Now I must go acquaint my new woman with her duties in my household.” He stood grinning as a pair of warriors led Mike, Johnny and Saium off to another group of semi-permanent dwellings to the east.

Clearly searching for something he’d expected to find, Saium looked in all directions with a puzzled frown as they walked. The old man’s increasing distress was obvious to Mike.
Another mystery to probe, as soon as we get somewhere private. Something’s wrong in this camp, and we’re stuck in the middle of it for at least one night
.
 

Technically a tent, their quarters had the most substantial construction Mike had ever seen in a temporary structure. Made of thick green fabric, sewn together in panels, and braced by a complex system of poles and thin struts, the tent culminated in a steeply pitched roof. The exterior had been treated with tree sap to make it water repellant. Inside, the space was large enough to house twice their number, with room left over. The entire encampment consisted of these tents, in varying sizes, laid out in concentric circles from the center. Completely encircled by the symbolic wooden fence, all the green-and-white-striped tents in the inner circle flew banners with the Bartuk Clan symbol. Mike’s assigned shelter was outside the last of the circles and off to one side, near the edge of the forest.
 

Picking at his yellow, snaggled teeth with a small bone, one bored warrior said, “The feast begins at sundown. We eat in the large red tent there, across the camp. No weapons allowed.”

Message delivered, he and his silent companion swaggered back to the main encampment.
 

A few minutes later, after taking care of their mounts first, Mike, Johnny and Saium stood staring at each other inside their large tent. Loosely hobbled, their saddle horses and pack animals waited outside the tent, grazing on the lush meadow grass.

After peering out the tent flap to make sure no one was within hearing distance, Mike confronted Saium. “What in the hell is going on here?”

“I don't know. I didn't see anyone I knew. I didn't even see our Windhunter Clan banner. My poor princess—the brute is no fit husband for her. What can the emperor have been thinking?” Face slack in a dazed expression, Saium sat heavily on one of the cots, hanging his head in his hands. “Things have changed so since I left as a young man, to accompany Shalira’s mother to the emperor.”

Stowing some gear under the bunk he was claiming for the night, Johnny said, “We going to the banquet?”
 

Mike nodded. “I think we'd better. We need to be congenial, unsuspicious guests, taking everything here at face value. Or so we let Bandarlok believe.”

Testing the comfort of the thin mattress, Johnny asked, “What's your plan for tomorrow?”
 

“I don't have one, beyond you and me riding out of here, early in the morning, and getting on with our mission,” Mike said, pushing his hand into the uninviting, hard pad covering what would be his bunk.

“I’d like to join you,” Saium said. “You could use a guide in the mountains, no matter what maps you have.”

Mike whistled in surprise. “You serious?”

“What about the princess?” Johnny asked, sitting up again. “Doesn’t she need you?”

“Bandarlok made it clear to me I’ll never see her again.” The old man swallowed hard, blinking. “She and I said our good-byes. I only wish I felt I’d brought her to a safe place. I’ll be powerless to help her.”

“Did Shalira know Bandarlok had a wife already?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know.” Saium considered for a moment. “She might have. She didn’t react as I would’ve expected when the woman came outside the compound. Don’t judge my princess harshly,” he said. “Her position at court was tenuous at best, and once the emperor dies, there’d have been
no
help, nothing to hold anyone back. People would have vied for the honor of ridding Maralika of her hated rival’s daughter. The empress never forgave Kajastahn for the way he elevated Shalira’s mother over her.”

Johnny shook his head. “But what about Shalira?”

“It doesn’t matter if she knew. This was her choice. She specifically asked me not to interfere or try to influence her.” Mike looked his cousin squarely in the eye. “Shalira intends to carry out her duty to her father and marry this guy. End of discussion.”
 

Johnny chewed his lip, obviously deciding to keep what he was thinking to himself. “Well then, guess we'd better get ready to attend the big feast,” he said.
 

Saium shook his head. “I’ve no desire to eat and drink at Bandarlok’s table. Perhaps I can nose around and find out more of what’s going on here, where my clan is, while you’re at the dinner.”
 

“Be careful,” Mike warned him. “For yourself and for her. Anything you do might reflect badly on her in Bandarlok’s eyes. She has enough trouble right now.”
 

“What about this no-weapons edict?” Johnny asked.

“I don't like it, but I don't see how we can refuse to comply. Lock our blasters with the other gear.” Mike glanced at his cousin. “We'll keep our knives. From what I've seen on this planet, no adult male goes anywhere without some kind of knife in his belt.”
 

“Better than nothing," Johnny agreed a bit more cheerfully as he took Mike’s Mark 27 blaster, stacking it with his own in a black and gray military container, then thumbing the lock closed. “Sun's setting. Shall we go?”
 

“One more little thing,” Mike said. “Where's the medkit?”
 

Shalira stumbled along after Arananta the Chief Wife, angry at being forced to move so quickly, but unwilling to make a fuss. “I apologize for my appearance. I’m sure I must look a mess but the chieftain was so—so anxious to arrive home, he wouldn’t give me a moment to freshen up or change my dress. I blush to meet you in this state.”
 

Her companion grunted, tightening her grip on Shalira’s wrist.

Enough is enough.
Pulling back a bit, she tried to dig in her heels, twisting her arm to no avail, but stopping short of clawing at the woman’s fingers. “Please, may we stop for a moment? If we go more slowly I can begin learning my way around the compound. I count steps from point to point, you see. Then no one will have to lead me.”

The woman laughed. “You don’t have to learn the compound. Wasted effort.”

“I’m sorry?”
Is she upset because Bandarlok has brought in another wife? Surely she can’t feel threatened by me?

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Shalira felt the surface change under her feet as she stumbled across a threshold. Arananta dropped her hand and it was all Shalira could do not to fall. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing pulse, she stood tall, wishing she wasn’t so vulnerable and alone. She could hear other people in the room, breathing, clothes rustling, and a quickly stifled laugh.

“So, this is our high-and-mighty princess, girls, come to be a bride of the chief,” Arananta said. “Not so grand now, is she?”

Extending one hand, catching the chief wife’s sleeve, Shalira said, “Please, tell me who’s here? Introduce us?”

The woman yanked the fabric out of her grasp with a sniff. “Your betters, that’s all you need to know.”

Shalira was at a loss. Behind her she heard the sound of men approaching, treading heavily as if carrying quite a burden. Arananta pulled her aside and whoever was coming into the room brushed past her, knocking her off-balance.

“Are those her trunks?” asked an excited, young, female voice. “Can we open them now?”

“If they’ve brought my things, of course you’re welcome to see.” Hoping to make a good first impression on her new companions, she added, “I also brought gifts from the capital.”

A titter of laughter came from all around her. Shalira estimated there were at least ten women in the tent. The atmosphere was ugly. Something was going on she didn’t understand. Even at its worst, Emperor Kajastahn’s harem was more civil to newcomers.

“Get out,” Arananta said, apparently speaking to the men.

As soon as the tent flaps fell behind the departing warriors, there was a rush of women to the area of the room where Shalira’s trunks had been placed. She heard fingernails scrabbling at the locked clasps.

Arananta grabbed her shoulder. “Where are the keys?”

Jerking loose, upset, the princess said, “We should wait until the trunks are placed in my quarters. I need to be sure there’s no confusion about what’s mine and what’s to be a gift. I can put things away as we’re admiring them.”

“Give me the cursed keys, girl. I’m in charge here, and I say we’re opening the trunks now.”

Fumbling in the pocket of her dress, she handed over the tiny ring of filigreed silver keys, which Arananta grabbed. The princess backed away as she heard the women screaming and exclaiming and fighting over her clothes and other possessions. Fabric tore as two girls both coveted one dress and then apparently fell to hair-pulling, accompanied by vulgar name-calling because the garment was ruined. Disgusted by their behavior, saddened by the loss of the few things in the trunks that had been precious to her, Shalira was tempted to flee, despite having no idea where to go. She thought she remembered how many steps it had been to the entrance and started sidling away, with no clear plan what she would do next, only desperate to be away from the melee.

Her sketchy plan was succeeding until she ran into Bandarlok as he strode through the entrance. He grabbed her shoulder in one hand, yelling at the top of his lungs, “What do you women think you’re doing?”

Instant silence fell. Someone dropped a cosmetics box, sneezing as the expensively scented powder became a momentarily pervasive cloud.

“I’m perfectly happy to share, my lord,” Shalira said. “Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding about what I brought with me.”