Prince of the Blood (44 page)

Erland found his reaction upon first seeing the Princess returning. In a flower garden of exotic blossoms, she was both the most lovely and exotic. Unlike most of the trueblood women he had encountered so far, she was not lithe and long-legged, but more voluptuous. Her legs were thicker than Miya’s, but not unpleasantly so, and she was easily the most large-breasted woman he had met so far. There was an odd tilt to her nose that, combined with her full lips, gave her a pouty expression. Her large sable eyes had a slightly alien cast to them, almost like the yellow-skinned people from Shing Lai he had seen at court. Her shoulders and hips were broad, her waist narrow, and her stomach rounded in a pleasing way. Erland was finding himself totally captivated by the young woman.

When the silence became oppressive to the nervous Prince, he said, “Your Highness, are there any … unattractive women at court?”

Sharana laughed. “Of course.” Her voice was sweet and feminine and her smile brought her face alive and made Erland’s pulse beat faster. “But my grandmother has a terror of old age and death, so at her command all those not young and beautiful are relegated to the lower levels of the palace. They are there, to be sure.” Sharana sighed. “If I come to rule, I will abolish that silly order. Many fine and capable people work in obscurity, while those less gifted but fairer to look upon achieve high office.”

Erland didn’t really understand what the girl was saying. His mind was fixed upon the lovely scent of her mixing with the exotic aroma of the garden’s flowers. He said, “Uh … I noticed Lord Nirome somehow managed to stay aboveground.”

Again she laughed. “He’s wonderful. He just manages to somehow stay on everyone’s good side. He’s such a dear. Of all my uncles—”

“Uncle?”

“He’s my mother’s cousin, actually, but I call him my uncle. He’s the only one who could get me to stop crying when I was left alone as a baby. Grandmother has constantly had to scold him to do something about his love of eating and look more like a trueblood hunter, but she puts up with him anyway. I often think he’s the only one who keeps this Empire together; he really does his best to disarm potential conflicts. He’s tried to be a good influence upon my uncle Awari …” She left it unsaid that most would have considered that undertaking a failure.

Erland nodded. “Why are your uncle and grandmother estranged?”

“I’m not sure, really,” answered the girl, taking Erland’s hand in hers, a natural and unself-conscious act.

With fingers interlaced, they walked along, the girl speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think it’s because Awari thinks he should rule instead of my mother, which is silly. He’s too young—he’s only three years older than me. Grandmother’s fifth or sixth husband fathered him, I think. Mother is eldest and she should be unquestioned heir, but there are some who fear the Empire becoming a matriarchy.”

Erland felt his blood pounding but he forced himself to concentrate on matters of politics, which was difficult with the scantily clad Princess constantly brushing against him. “So, ah, some of your people wish a male ruler?”

“Silly, isn’t it?” Sharana halted and said, “What do you think of my garden?”

“It’s impressive,” Erland admitted, without any flattery. “Nothing like this in the Isles.”

“Many of these blooms are cultivated here, for the
Imperial gardens, and do not exist anywhere else upon Midkemia. I’m not sure how that’s done, but I’ve been told it’s so.” She reached across her own body with her left hand and squeezed his forearm, holding on to his left hand with her right. It was a familiar gesture of lovers, and Erland was both aroused and discomforted by it.

As they continued to walk through the garden, Sharana said, “Erland, tell me of your home, this legendary Kingdom of the Isles.”

“Legendary?” laughed the Prince. “To me it’s commonplace, while Kesh is the legendary land.”

Sharana giggled. “But you have so many wonders! I have been told that you have spoken to elves, and that you have fought the Dark Brotherhood. Is this true?”

Erland himself had never spoken to elves or fought the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, as most people referred to the moredhel—the dark elves—but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to embellish the truth a bit. He had fought goblins at Highcastle and they were the next best thing.

He spoke a bit and found Sharana to be fascinated by his stories, or at least give a convincing performance.

After a while, they had circled the garden and returned to Sharana’s pavilion. Sharana indicated the large bed outside her sleeping quarters. “I prefer sleeping under the stars most nights during the summer. The palace holds the heat.”

Erland agreed. “It takes some getting used to. Having the pool close by helps. I’ve grown quite accustomed to taking long baths before retiring.”

Sharana giggled as a servant pulled aside the gossamer hangings that protected the sleeping pavilion from flying night insects. “So Miya told me.” Erland felt himself blush as Sharana said, “She said that you are quite … gifted in some respects. And quite a lot of fun.”
Motioning for Erland to recline at her side, she ran a finger around the collar of his tunic. “You wear so many clothes, you men of the North. You’re almost as bad as our fierce Brijaner sea rovers. They refuse to remove their fur cloaks, even though they grow faint in the heat. And they think their lives are ruled by the ghosts of their dead mothers, and only take one wife in their lifetime. They are very strange. You would be more comfortable if you took some clothing off, don’t you think?”

Erland found himself actually blushing. He had assumed from the timing of the meeting and his previous experience with Keshian trueblood girls that the Princess might have something more personal than an informal state visit in mind when she asked him to visit her quarters, but now he felt suddenly awkward.

Sensing his reluctance, Sharana unfixed the clasp that held her scant robe in place and let it fall open. “See, it’s easy.”

Erland leaned forward and offered a kiss, ready to retreat if he mistook the girl’s intentions. She answered with a strong kiss, and suddenly two pair of hands were removing his clothing. When Erland removed his last garment, Sharana rolled over on her back. As he took position over her, he realized the four servingwomen were still stationed around the pavilion, and the gauzy hangings offered only an illusion of privacy. Erland felt a momentary hesitation as he saw one of the servants standing only a few inches away, but as the Princess pulled him to her, he gave no more thought to their presence. I must be getting used to these people, he thought, before he lost himself in a warm and sensuous world. Their lovemaking was intense and hurried, as if neither could wait to reach satisfaction.

When they were both spent, Erland moved to Sharana’s side and the girl playfully ran her hand over his chest and stomach. “Miya said you start quickly.”

Erland felt himself blush again and said, “Do … did you and Miya discuss me … in great detail?”

Sharana laughed, her ample breasts bouncing with the movement. She put her head upon Erland’s chest. “Of course. I ordered her to tell me everything, everything about you after you took her that first night.”

Not sure he wanted to hear the answer, Erland said, “Ah … what did she say?”

Sharana began doing interesting things with her left hand while lying next to Erland, her right arm forming a triangle as she rested her head on her right hand. “Oh, she said that you were … enthusiastic … and a little impatient … the first time. But that the second time was well worth the effort.”

Erland laughed as he reached out and grabbed Sharana, pulling her to him. “Let’s see if she was right.”

The heralds blew their long horns, and the drums began beating. Erland and his company sat in one of the boxes used by the Keshian nobility the previous night, the guests of Prince Awari and Lord Nirome. As the second day of the Empress’s Jubilee got under way, contests and exhibitions were scheduled. The Empress might or might not appear in her private box, overlooking the amphitheater, but the games continued as if she were there. Short, muscular men were dressed in the costumes of their warrior ancestors. Each man wore a white breech-cloth, leaving buttocks bare. Some wore carved and painted demon masks, while others had painted their faces with blue patterns. Many had shaved heads or had their hair pulled back into a warrior’s queue. Ancient instruments—skin-covered drums, rattles made from animal skulls, and horn trumpets—were played with enthusiasm as the warriors began their ancient contest.

A stone of seven feet in height was pulled out to the
center of the amphitheater by a dozen men, singing a strange repetitive chant. Others urged them on with cries, grunts, and exaggerated gestures.

Erland turned to his host and said, “I am pleased for the opportunity to spend some time with Your Highness.”

Awari smiled graciously and said, “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness.”

Lord Nirome, sitting behind Erland, and next to James and Gamina, said, “Anything to build bridges between our two nations, Your Highnesses.”

Awari glanced at Nirome for a moment, then said to Erland, “It is as my lord Nirome says, Erland. Your Kingdom has been growing steadily in power since the time of your grandfather and with those Quegan pirates properly chastised—”

“Quegan pirates?” interrupted Erland.

Awari said, “I guess news has not been swift in reaching you. A fleet of Quegan galleys had been raiding the Free Cities and even being so bold as to raid some of your coastal towns near Questor’s View. Your father ordered Admiral Bruhall’s fleet to find and sink them. He did.”

Nirome chimed in. “A squadron of the raiders was blown by squall past their own island and were intercepted by a squadron of Imperial ships out of Durbin and were also crushed.”

At this, James and Erland exchanged glances, and Erland heard Gamina’s voice in his mind.
James is fascinated by that
.

Why?
Aloud the Prince said, “Then the Bitter Sea should be safe to travel for some time to come. Barring a Durbin pirate or two.”

Awari smiled indulgently. “Some of our more distant cities are difficult to control on that level, Erland. If a ship’s captain raids outside of Imperial waters …” He shrugged. “It’s easier to send an army of Dog Soldiers to
crush Durbin and hang the Governor than it is to replace a corrupt judge there, do you see?” The tone of the question showed clearly it was rhetorical.

Then James’s voice came to Erland.
This is intriguing. What was an “Imperial squadron” doing in Durbin? Those pirates usually can’t agree on anything, let alone how to organize ten or more ships into a squadron
.

Gamina spoke to Nirome. “My lord, what are these men doing?”

“These are men from Shing Lai, Dong Tai, and Tao Zi, many villages and towns in the region, who in ancient times were known as the Pô-Ta’o. They are no longer warriors, but they still practice the ancient arts and craft of war. These men are wall jumping.”

As he spoke, the first man in line raced for the large stone, then as he came within a stride of it, he sprang as high as he could, placing his foot on the face and flipping backward, and landing on his feet. The crowd cheered.

“Impressive,” said James.

Awari said, “The object is to clear the stone. He was just warming himself to the task.”

James said, “That stone is how tall? Seven feet?”

“Yes,” said Awari. “An adequate warrior will leap to the top, touching the stone, then land on the other side. A true warrior will clear the height without touching the stone. In ancient days, this was training for their soldiers, so they might jump the protective walls of rival villages.”

“That
is
impressive,” said Erland.

Awari smiled. “They used to plant spears on both sides of the wall stone, giving the contestants a bit more motivation in making the jump clean. Anyway, as I was saying, now that that nest of pirates up in Queg has been slapped down, I’m hoping things will stay calm along the northern borders. I don’t mean to bother you with the details of our domestic difficulties, but with my mother’s age …” He watched a moment as a strong-looking
man in a wooden demon’s mask, with a spear in his left hand, leaped high over the stone to the roar of the crowd. “… well, the situation in the heart of Kesh is such that it would be to no one’s advantage for there to be any conflict between our two people. You are now clearly our strongest neighbor, and from this time forward, I hope our good friend.”

Erland said, “As long as I live, I hope that is so.”

Awari said, “Good. Let’s hope you live a long, full span of years.”

A flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of a member of the royal family, and Erland turned, hoping it was Sharana. Instead, the Princess Sojiana entered with her retinue, and Erland could barely contain his laugh of astonishment. Escorting the beautiful woman to her place in the box next to the one he occupied with Awari was Baron Locklear.

James’s amusement came behind his thoughts, too.
Well, it seems that no barrier is insurmountable for our friend, doesn’t it?