
The Champion of Zammar

The Zammar Series, book two

By Samantha Nolan

(All Characters depicted herein are consenting adults.)

Published by Nault-Findley, LLC

Copyright 2014 Samantha Nolan

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the authors' imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America and Canada. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

#  Foreword

Thank you for picking up a copy of The Champion of Zammar. It was great fun working on this story and we hope you enjoy your read!

This novel contains hot consensual sex between a handsome warrior and a spunky princess saved from certain death—or celibate piety—whichever is worse.

#  On the Back

For years, Captain of the Royal Guard Kadar Ibn' Al'Amar has faithfully served Prince Jalen, heir to the throne of Zammar. When the life-threatening curse affecting the prince's mind reawakens, Kadar sets off in search of a cure. His only hope is to retrieve the healer Sadie's stolen books, now in the possession of the monastery of Al'Zafyra and protected by a group of deadly warriors.

For as long as she can remember, Princess Ahnanti of Bathu knows she has been an embarrassment to her father; ruler of the neighboring kingdom of Bathu. Her love of sword-fighting and lack of interest in marrying to further his political alliances has always strained their relationship, but Ahna never expected him to cast her away from the only home she knows. In a bid to strengthen his position with the powerful religious faction of his council, he orders her to Al'Zafyra, to devote the rest of her life to serving the Thousand Spirits.

When Ahna's small convoy is ambushed by Bathan rebels on the way to the monastery, Kadar comes to her rescue. Ahna sees him as a chance to escape her fate; Kadar sees her as an opportunity to gain access to Al'Zafyra's library. In spite of their initial contention, they find their uneasy partnership quickly morphing into an intense attraction. But between the rebels still pursuing Anhanti and Kadar's treacherous mission, survival must take precedence over their fledgling love.

__****

#  Prologue

The well-worn map, pinned to the table by all four corners, was bathed in the late afternoon sun coming through the latticed windows of the war room. Bent over it, Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar traced a path from Zammar's capital to the northern frontier, and glowered at the spot where his finger stopped.

"The monastery of Al'Zafyra, the sapphire of the north." He pronounced the words with distaste. "That's where my informant says Sadie's books are located."

Prince Jalen 'Anaq Al-Jameyri, heir to the kingdom of Zammar and Kadar's oldest friend, leaned over the map and frowned. "This will be a problem."

Kadar nodded silently. He could feel a tendril of hair brush against his day's growth of beard, and he had to stop himself from swatting it away from his cheek in annoyance. He needed to visit a palace barber soon, he thought, before it became any more problematic. In the last few months, he hadn't had much time to devote to his personal grooming, and his hair was getting uncomfortably long.

"Are you certain?" Jalen asked a minute later, as Kadar's silence lengthened.

"I'm afraid so. The man I talked to was adamant. The traveling caravan who bought them after her house was razed was headed for Al'Zafyra. They sold them to the monastery."

And, as everyone knew, any knowledge the monastery of Al'Zafyra acquired—books, scrolls, manuscripts, and sometime even people—was then locked up, as they considered it a treasure to be protected at all cost. The monastery—and the reclusive religious order that called it home—was completely cut off from the world, difficult to access and closed to travelers. Getting them to part with Sadie's books would prove difficult, especially since the books' theft couldn't be proven.

"This is unfortunate," Jalen said somberly. He ran the tip of a finger down the curse-mark on his cheek. "I haven't told Sadie yet, but I can feel the curse waking again."

Kadar nodded once more, making sure his expression stayed a stoic mask. His thoughts, however, were not so calm. Although not wholly unexpected, Jalen's admission came as a blow. When Sadie had suppressed the curse taking over Jalen's mind, she had been clear that it would only be a reprieve. Still, Kadar had hoped her ritual would stop the curse's advance for at least the next turn of the seasons. This would have given Kadar more time to find a solution that didn't include trying to steal books from Al'Zafyra.

But now, it seemed he wouldn't have a choice.

"You should tell Sadie," Kadar commented. Jalen's betrothed wouldn't appreciate being kept in the dark. He didn't think Jalen would be able to do so for long, in any case. She was far too perceptive to stay blind to the situation.

"It would only worry her unnecessarily," Jalen dismissed Kadar's concern. "There is still time before it comes to the point I cannot control myself anymore."

"She'd want to know, Jalen. She's your betrothed. And then, she _needs_ to know in case of an episode."

Jalen gave him a droll look. "Sometimes, you sound worse than a nanny, Kadar."

Kadar's glare made Jalen chuckle, but he quickly grew serious again. "I will give you a letter of introduction for their high priest, but even that might not be enough to get you inside the monastery. The Zammar crown wields little influence there, unfortunately."

It was a good thing the monastery's inhabitants weren't interested in more than defending their precious books, Kadar thought. If they turned their garrison of elite warriors to less noble pursuits, they could become a problem for Zammar. But the monastery had existed for more than a thousand years, and its independence from the earthly powers of kings was almost as old. Certainly older than the neighboring kingdoms of Zammar, Qatna, and Bathu, on which borders it stood.

"A letter from you is better than nothing. If it doesn't work, I'll find another way to get inside."

They both leaned over the map again, and Kadar scowled at it. "This should take at least a few weeks of travel, and I might need another week or more once I get to the monastery. Will you last that long?"

"I will," Jalen replied. He straightened and moved to the window to look down onto the gardens below. "You will return during the season of rains. The roads will be difficult to travel."

"I'm aware of that fact, but it can't be avoided." _You are running out of time._

Jalen snorted in what Kadar knew to be annoyance. "I'm not yet doomed to madness, Kadar. Perhaps you should wait until the rains pass before embarking on this journey."

"It would delay the retrieval of the books several moons. Do you think you have this kind of time?"

Jalen did not turn to look at him. "No," he said after a long moment. "I don't think I have that long."

"Do I have your permission to pursue this lead at once, then?" Kadar asked, more as a rhetorical question than because he needed Jalen's approval.

Jalen sighed. "You have my permission."

"Then, I'll leave at dawn. The sooner I reach Al'Zafyra, the sooner I can assess the situation there and retrieve Sadie's books."

Turning to face him, Jalen replied, "I will draft the letter this afternoon. It will be ready for your departure. Bring however many men you need with you."

Kadar shook his head. "Unnecessary. I'll have a better chance of success if I travel alone."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes." He nodded at Jalen, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But your concern about my well-being has been duly noted."

"You are becoming reckless, my friend," Jalen remarked.

"I'm being realistic," Kadar shot back. "I'll bring back those books, and you can finally get rid of that curse once and for all."

Jalen nodded, and said more seriously, "Be safe. I am not ready to appoint a new captain of my guard."

Kadar saluted. "Understood. I won't fail."

"I know. May your ancestors watch over you."

"And yours over you."

#  Chapter 1

Princess Ahnanti 'den Bathu-arazi patted her artfully coiffed hair and straightened her skirts, feeling uncomfortable and out of place wearing the stiff finery. After a lifetime spent attending her father's court, she should be used to it, but she still wished she could be allowed to wear her usual clothes. Her father's soldiers had it right: pants were the way to go if one wanted comfort and freedom of movement.

Before she left her chambers, she patted her hip, reassured to feel her dagger nestled in the pocket that she insisted be added to all of her dresses. The weight of a second dagger, sheathed in her boot, reassured her further. In these uncertain times at court, she had learned to never leave her quarters weaponless. _Never be caught unarmed._ It was one thing her father's guards had taught her well.

They were good men, all of them.

Ahna smiled and nodded to the guard stationed at the throne room's entrance. His smile was pained.

_Marvelous,_ she thought, wincing internally. _My father is in a bad mood. What did I do_ this _time?_ She longed for a return of the days when he simply ignored her existence.

Ahna squared her shoulders and waited for the announcement of her arrival. When it came, she stepped into the room as calmly as she could. She walked toward her father, ignoring the stares she received from the gathered courtiers. Upon reaching the dais, she came to her knees in supplication, and touched her forehead to the ground before sitting back on her heels.

"You requested my presence, Father?" she said, still kneeling at his feet.

King Siddha 'den Bathu-arazi stared down at her, his expression cold. Despite his advancing years and graying hair, he could still be considered a handsome if stern-looking man. Ahna had inherited much of her looks from him, and little from her soft and pretty mother.

King Siddha had never been that interested in his firstborn and only daughter, tending to spend his time and effort on Ahna's younger brothers, the eldest of whom would inherit the throne one day. It was not as though Ahna wished to rule, in any case. The position seemed quite cumbersome, and dangerous to boot. Nonetheless, some recognition of her worth as something other than a political pawn to be married away would have been welcome.

"Ahnanti," King Siddha said, and held up a rolled-up parchment.

She recognized the seal adorning it: Zammar's royal sun. Was this a new missive concerning her betrothal to Zammar's prince? She thought the terms and dowry had been agreed on already—not that she much cared. This prince or another, her fate would be the same. Seeing her father's expression, however, she had the sinking feeling something had gone awry with the negotiations.

"Do you know what this is?"

"Another 'broken engagement' letter?"

King Siddah crumpled the parchment in his hand and threw it aside at her quip, his face reddened with barely contained rage.

Ahna winced. Too many times already she'd thwarted his attempts to marry her off. She had been warned not to ruin another proposal, and she knew Zammar's offer was her last chance.

But, she'd done nothing to dissuade the Zammar envoy. Not this time.

" _This_ is a letter in Prince Jalen of Zammar's own hand putting an end to your agreed upon betrothal. What did you do?"

"N-nothing." She winced at the stutter in her voice. She didn't want to appear weak in front of her father or the court. She took a deep breath and continued, "How could I have? I have not left the palace and Prince Jalen lives in Zammar. We've never even met."

"Enough. I will not be made to appear the fool in my own court. This was your last chance, Ahnanti; you knew the consequence of failure."

"But, Father, I've done nothing wrong. I can't be held responsible for his change of mind!"

"I do not want to hear your excuses anymore. If marriage doesn't interest you, perhaps a life spent in repentance will."

"What—"

She couldn't finish her sentence. A cold glare from King Siddah silenced her protest. "You will pack only what you need for your journey; where you are going, earthly possessions are unnecessary."

"But, Father—" she tried again.

"A courier is on his way to the monastery of Al'Zafyra as we speak. They will await your arrival. A lifetime of service to the Thousand Spirits should at least teach you obedience."

Courtiers murmured in the wake of his pronouncement, and Ahna felt the blood drain from her face. Stifled as she felt at court sometimes, she hadn't wanted to be exiled from the only home she'd ever known.

"I have made my decision," King Siddah said, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "You leave at dawn."

***

Rocky cliffs rose up on each side of the canyon. A narrow road just wide enough for a carriage or two horses to travel abreast wound its way through the rugged terrain. The sides of the ravine loomed so tall that the sun never quite reached the bottom.

The moment Ahna's escort entered this dangerous territory, the group had fallen quiet. Surrounded by armed guards and forced to travel in a covered carriage, Ahna felt as if the stone walls would soon engulf her. She hated feeling trapped. Hated this whole expedition: the heat, the dust, the sweat pooling between her shoulder blades that she couldn't easily wipe away. No one would let her change out of the hot, scratchy supplicant robe. They all feared the king's retaliation too much to let her disobey his direct order.

Her father had wanted a spectacle. He was, after all, _gifting_ his only daughter to the Thousand Spirits, and he had used all of his considerable influence to make sure _everyone_ knew about it. It seemed like the entire population of the capital had come to gawk at her. It appeared she'd been the only one not to know anything about it until the eve of her departure.

_Cursed spirits!_

Ahna shifted in her seat again, trying to find a more comfortable position. Pulling the curtains aside, she glanced out at the rock surrounding them and shivered. The captain in charge of her escort, who rode beside the carriage, glanced her way. His gaze gentled when he saw her looking out. "We should be out of the canyon soon, Highness," he said.

"Thank you, Captain Zahi. The canyon isn't really what worries me, though," she replied truthfully. Zahi had known her for more than half her life. She knew he understood.

"I know, Highness." Zahi hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry."

Ahna waved his apology aside. "It's definitely not your fault. I was sent away because it's politically advantageous for Father. It has nothing to do with you or your men." When the look of guilt didn't leave Zahi's expression, she went on, "I'll always be grateful for what you've done, Captain."

"Maybe I should have insisted—" he started saying, but she raised her hand to stop him before he could finish his sentence. She was in no mood to hear him self-flagellate with what if's.

"Enough, Captain. You indulged the whims of a lonely young girl, nothing more. There's nothing to feel guilty about." He had offered to show her how to wield a sword and how to defend herself when most would have pushed her away for fear of her father's reaction.

Zahi's lips twitched, and he nodded. "If you say so."

"I do."

Ahna let the curtain drop back in place and sat back with a sigh. The female attendant they'd sent with her—an older woman Ahna barely knew—glanced up from her embroidery and gave her a sympathetic look. "Your Highness?" she asked.

She wanted to hit something, but managed to restrain herself with some difficulty. A princess of Bathu didn't lose her temper in public. Or so she'd been told a thousand times at least. Ahna personally doubted the truth of that statement. Her brothers fought in public all the time. Besides, she'd never been much of a princess to start with. Too tall, too athletic, not feminine enough, always training with the royal soldiers or jumping into some new kind of trouble with her father. She knew what people called her behind her back: the goat princess. Over the years, she'd learned not to care; after all, she had encouraged such a view.

Another drop of sweat rolled down her nose, and Ahna wiped at it in annoyance.

"Would you like me to fetch you water, Highness?" the attendant asked.

Ahna shook her head. "Don't bother," she said sharply, and then thought better of it. The older woman must be suffering from the heat, too. "But you can get some for yourself if you wish."

The woman bobbed her head. "Thank you, Highness."

As the attendant bent down to grab a canteen of by now tepid water, Ahna stared up at the ceiling of the carriage. She wished she could be somewhere else—anywhere else—but slipping away from her own escort had not been as easy as she'd first hoped. Besides needing to secure enough coins and food for the journey, she also required a horse and weapons to defend herself. That task was no small feat, and she hadn't found the right opportunity yet. Zahi knew her too well, and had kept a careful eye on her the entire journey. As much as he liked her, he would never go against a direct order from his king. Now, with their arrival at Al'Zafyra drawing close, such an opportunity became ever more elusive.

The carriage hit another rut in the road, and Ahna gave the ceiling a dark look, muttering a curse under her breath. She was sick and tired of having her bones rattled like playing dice. Then, just as she was about to open the curtain again, they came to a complete stop. Waiting. Although not a word of warning was exchanged, Ahna knew at once something was wrong.

The attendant looked up from her sewing again and frowned. "Why did we stop?" she asked.

Ahna gave her a quelling look. "Keep quiet," she hissed, straining to hear outside. Her nerves tingled in a mix of anxiety and anticipation of an upcoming battle. There was no reason for these feelings, other than they shouldn't have stopped in the canyon.

Sliding a hand under her robe to grab the small knife she carried—the only weapon she'd been allowed on her journey—she pulled the window curtain aside. A few feet away from the carriage, Captain Zahi sat stock-still on his horse, his eyes fixed on the cliff at his left, and one hand gripping the pommel of his sword. Although he must have heard the rustle of fabric, he didn't glance Ahna's way.

"Captain, what is going on?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

Zahi finally glanced at her, his expression somber. "I believe we're being wat—"

His sentence ended in a gurgle of blood. Ahna stared in horror at the arrow now sticking out of his neck, an arrow that hadn't been there a second before. He slid out of the saddle without a sound and fell to the ground, unmoving. Time stood still as shock rippled through their group. Then it was chaos. Screams of warning mingled with war cries. Men jumped from hiding spots along the canyon and higher on the cliffs, eliciting a squeak of fear from Ahna's attendant. Within seconds, a volley of arrows killed two more of Ahna's guards, and the rest of their attackers reached the road.

Ahna's group was outnumbered and, in spite of some of her father's best warriors fighting to protect her, the odds were not their favor. Her heart drummed in her ears and her mouth dried out as she watched her escort trying valiantly to keep the attackers from the carriage.

Beside Ahna, the attendant whimpered. Ahna barely spared her a glance, not wanting to lose sight of the battle outside. Perhaps the woman wanted reassurance that everything would be all right, but she would not get it from her. Ahna didn't think things would turn out well for their small group. She swore. She was not even properly armed to defend herself. Worse, her palms were sweating and she had to keep her hands from shaking. She hated to admit it, but she was terrified. She had to force herself not to stay hidden inside the carriage, frozen in fear, while her own people fought to the death.

"Stay here," she finally said to her companion. Without waiting for an answer, she slipped outside the carriage, catching her robe on the door. "Son of a pissing goat," Ahna swore as she spent precious seconds freeing herself. By then, she had been spotted. Cries of "the princess" and "get her alive" made her grit her teeth. So, she was the reason behind their attack. Who were they? Bandits after a ransom? Rebels? Enemies of Bathu?

In the end, it didn't matter. Not in the middle of battle. "Concentrate," Ahna muttered. The sound of her own voice managed to calm her somewhat. She looked around, assessing her options. There were few of them. She could try to slip away to safety. But where? And how? They had been ambushed and attacked from both sides. The canyon was also too narrow for her to make her escape without being seen. Furthermore, these were her people fighting—dying—to defend her. She might not have liked their destination, but she would be a coward to abandon them to their fate.

Ahna was no coward.

She would fight.

Although she'd spent years training with the palace guards—ever since Zahi had found her spying on them during their daily sessions and took pity on the shy young princess she had been—she'd yet to use that knowledge for anything other than a mock fight. Now that she faced a true battle, she felt wholly unprepared.

She looked around again, and her eyes fell on poor Captain Zahi, crumpled on the ground not five feet away from her. His sword was still in its scabbard; he'd not had time to even draw it before his death.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the corpse.

She sent a quick prayer for Zahi's spirit before kneeling at his side and grabbing his sword. She heard movement behind her, and someone yelled, "There she is!"

_Not so fast_ , she thought.

She closed her fingers around the dead captain's saber and pulled. At first, the weight of his body pinned the sword down, and her heart skipped a beat. She pulled harder and the blade finally slid free of its scabbard. Ahna didn't stop to think. She whipped around, reaching blindly. It struck flesh and bone, and a masculine voice screamed in pain. Ahna faced her opponent, her blade dripping with his blood, as he clutched at a deep gash on his thigh.

"Bitch," he swore at her.

Ahna laughed at the insult. It might not have been the wisest thing to do.

He cursed her again, raising his arm to strike her. Ahna crouched. Years of training had drilled the defensive position into her mind, and it came naturally to her now.

"Look at that. The princess wants to play," a second attacker said, joining his wounded companion.

Ahna knew she wouldn't have the element of surprise for long. From the way they'd overcome her escort, they were competent fighters—if not soldiers themselves. It wouldn't take long before they realized her stance was that of a practiced swordsman and not a bumbling princess. When they did, she would lose the one advantage she had.

Before they could realize what she was doing, she attacked, swearing at her long robe when it prevented her from moving freely. As expected, the sudden move allowed her to reach the first attacker before he could react. Instinct took over, and she went for a killing blow before her brain fully processed her action.

Her blade bit deeply into the man's stomach, and he stared at her. Ahna watched as his eyes rolled backwards and he crumpled at her feet. She stared, transfixed. The sight of his gushing blood made her want to retch.

_Move, you fool_ , she scolded herself. An immobile swordsman was a dead swordsman. She couldn't keep staring at her opponent as if he would suddenly come back to life.

She retreated, leaving her foe to his fate, and faced the rest of the attackers. More had gathered, and they formed a half-circle around her, trapping her with her back against her carriage. She doubted she'd be able to keep them off her for long.

***

Kadar pulled his mount to a stop as a far-away scream broke the stillness of the air. A human scream.

He frowned. A war cry? If that's what it was, it came from the gorge he'd just exited.

While traveling on the narrow trail, he'd had the feeling he was being watched. Unnerved, he had kept his weapons at the ready, expecting an ambush, though none had come and he left the canyon unharmed. He had doubted his instincts then, but now he wondered if he had been right after all.

The next sound he heard was clearly a garbled scream. From this distance Kadar couldn't determine if it was a cry for help or the last scream of a dying man.

"The caravan," he grumbled. He'd become aware of the carriage and its armed escort following him several hours ago. Clearly, they were heading in the same direction for the time being. They'd ignored him and he them.

Kadar glanced longingly north along the trail leading to Al'Zafyra, and then looked back to the cliffs rising behind him. From the sounds reaching his ears, the battle was growing in intensity. Any delay in his mission could spell disaster for Jalen, yet Kadar couldn't ride away from the sounds of distress behind him.

"A dry hell," Kadar swore out loud, and turned around. He drew his sword from its scabbard, and kicked his mount into a trot.

As the battle came into view, he slowed. He needed to assess the situation before striking blindly. Kadar's war-trained eyes quickly identified the Bathan royal guards fighting what appeared to be Bathan rebels—their foreign clothes and paler complexions leading him to that assumption. Men from both sides lay dead and fallen about the trail, and there was a woman crumpled on the ground only steps away from the open carriage door. The arrow protruding from her back was a good indication of how she perished.

Closer to his location, two Bathan guards fought back to back, surrounded by rebels. The rebels had them in a weakened position and, despite the soldiers' valiant efforts to defend themselves, they were doomed. _That contest will be over shortly,_ Kadar thought with regret. He could do nothing to help them at this point.

His eyes were then drawn to the only other defender still alive and fighting. The woman had positioned herself so that the carriage was at her back, but the rebels had her trapped. She clearly had some skill with the blade, for she countered and swirled and danced, meeting and parrying the many strikes of her attackers. Barely. For a moment, Kadar could do nothing but stare. The woman was tall, taller than most Zammarian women he had met, and moved with grace and agility.

She fought well, but not that well, especially against so many. It was clear from his point of view that they wanted the woman alive, or she would have fallen to her opponents already. Kadar adjusted his grip on his sword, and secured his reins on the saddle pommel. The horse he rode was trained for battle, and could be guided using only his knees. When Kadar kneed its flanks, it immediately shifted to a canter.

Kadar knew he had only one chance at saving the cornered woman. Alone, even he wouldn't be able to fight off all of them for long.

He charged toward the battle.

The men farthest from him looked up in surprise as he passed their counterparts. But by then, he was upon them. He slashed at the rebel on his right, and stabbed the man at his left. They crumpled at his horse's feet. With ease, Kadar reached down. Grabbing the woman by the back of her dress, he yanked her from the ground. She was heavy, heavier than he expected, and she was tall—standing only a few inches shorter than he did, he guessed. She was no soft and fragile female, that was for sure.

He liked that in a woman.

Turning her mid-air, Kadar draped her over the neck of his horse. After securing her in front of him, he kicked the mount into a gallop, leaving the stunned rebels behind.

The woman—who had started yelling at him the moment he grabbed her—used a particularly creative curse in her native tongue, comparing his face to a sheep's behind, and Kadar suppressed a chuckle. At least, that's what he thought she said. His command of Bathan wasn't as strong as he'd like. But she did seem to have a colorful array of swearwords in her repertoire.

The next few hours should prove to be interesting.

#  Chapter 2

Facedown on the galloping horse, Ahna struggled for breath. It would probably help if she stopped cursing her abductor, but she wasn't ready to do so yet. "Son of a goat! Horse's asshole! Water thief!" she screeched, or at least tried to. In between her robe billowing in her face and the saddle biting into her ribs, she had a difficult time cursing at him properly. "Your mother fornicated with a goat!"

The man only laughed, keeping his hand firmly planted on her back to limit her struggle. Still, she tried to right herself, which earned her a sharp, "Don't move."

The man's Bathan was clear, but it definitely wasn't his native language, and she tried to place his accent. Zammar seemed most likely. What was a Zammarian doing in the canyon? And what did he plan to do with her?

"And why should I listen to you?" she snapped. She felt exposed—defenseless—and yearned for the sword she'd dropped when the stranger had hauled her up on his horse. She should have held onto that saber much more tightly.

"We're being pursued. If you keep struggling, my horse might miss a step. Not even I can defend you from that many of them."

This caught her attention and she stopped fighting him. Pursued? Of course, she should have thought about that. She doubted her attackers would give up on her so easily after going to the trouble of ambushing her convoy.

"Let me sit up. Your horse will run better without me putting weight on its neck."

The hand on her back didn't move. "If you fall, I won't stop for you," her captor said.

Ahna snorted. "I'm Bathan. Horse riding is second nature to me. Now, let me up."

Reluctantly it seemed, the pressure on her back lifted, and she was free to move. True to her word, Ahna lost no time. Working with the horse's gait, she quickly righted herself. As she did, she came face to face with her rescuer, and had her first good look at him. He gazed back at her with the clearest blue eyes she had ever seen. At that moment, those eyes were focused and serious, but a spark of humor burned in them. His skin was the color of burnished copper and his hair fell almost to his jaw, dark and straight. He had... interesting features, she thought. Too strong to be called handsome, yet oddly compelling. In other circumstances, she would have been content to stare at him longer, but she needed to keep moving.

She had been right. He wasn't from Bathu.

He frowned at her. "Stay in front of me," he said.

Ahna bristled at the command, but before she had time to protest he'd scooted back, giving her enough room to slide her leg between him and the horse's neck. She complied, and maneuvered into the saddle. As soon as she settled down, he reached around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. His strength managed to surprise her, although it shouldn't have, seeing how easily he had lifted her from the ground.

Ahna grabbed at the arm that held her close. The linen of his indigo shirt felt finely woven under her fingers. The stitching around the cuff showed careful craftsmanship, and the threads shimmered in the sunlight. Her gaze then dropped to where his thighs pressed against hers. He wore tan pants, and Ahna could see the Zammar sun embroidered on a delicate trim down the outer seam. Although his clothing was simple in adornment, she had lived at court long enough to recognize quality when she saw it.

Despite his exotic looks, he dressed like a Zammarian. __ A rich Zammarian _. But not a merchant,_ she thought. He was too fit to be a shopkeeper, and too old to be a merchant's son sent to the army to learn the art of the sword before going into trade. So a personal guard, maybe? Or a mercenary. A man trained to protect his employer. But if she was right, what was he doing in the middle of the desert, alone?

His voice interrupted her musings. "Look behind us. Are we still pursued?"

Although she was irritated at being ordered around, Ahna looked over his shoulder. The road behind them appeared clear. Nor did she observe any flying dust that would hint at pursuit.

"I'm not seeing anyone," she finally replied in Zammarian.

Without another word, the man behind her slowed their horse to a canter and then a trot. They had left the canyon behind and the terrain had leveled. The hard-packed dirt trail they now followed zigzagged between boulders and crooked shrubs which dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see.

Their immediate surroundings offered no protection and no place to hide. Ahna felt too exposed, even if she saw no one.

Her rescuer seemed to come to the same conclusion she had, for he pulled sharply on the horse's reins and guided it off the trail.

Ahna watched the road shrink away into the distance with some concern. She hoped he knew what he was doing. Getting lost in the desert would be too easy. But she kept her mouth firmly shut. She needed some time to think and plan her next steps. She didn't know what the Zammarian man had in store for her, but she would be ready for him.

***

Kadar cursed to himself. Thanks to the rebels now certainly blocking the way, he would need to travel deep into Kanashi territory to get around them. The nomadic Kanashi tribes would be on the move as the season of rains approached, and it wasn't always possible to skirt around their migration paths. Still, he hoped to avoid them. They didn't like outsiders, and the woman in his arms definitely classified as one.

At least if their paths did cross, they would not challenge his presence on their lands, and he was confident he could protect his companion. Another benefit of their traveling through Kanashi territory was that Kadar knew it well—a fact he did not like to advertise, but which came in handy. He knew how to avoid most dangers, and where the safe campsites were located.

He slowed the horse to a walk. The loose stones peppering the ground could easily trip the animal if Kadar wasn't careful, and the last thing he wanted right now was a lame horse they couldn't ride.

***

They traveled in silence for many miles. The man kept one arm tightly wrapped around Ahna's waist, as if he feared she would try to flee, and guided their horse through the rocky terrain with the other. This at least eased part of her anxiety. He seemed to know exactly where they were going, and showed no sign of hesitation.

For the fourth time in the last hour, Ahna looked back the way they'd come. Much to her relief, it appeared that their pursuers had either given up or lost their trail. With a sigh, she slumped back against her captor's chest.

It didn't take long for her to decide relaxing against him was a mistake. The feel of those hard muscles at her back did something curious to her insides. He was a stranger, a man who might want to harm her, and yet she couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his chest and the firmness of his arm around her.

"We'll stop here for the night," the man announced in Zammarian, breaking the silence.

Ahna perked up and assessed their surroundings. She could understand his decision. A rocky overhang loomed to their left, which would offer some shelter from the elements, and a small creek bubbled less than twenty feet from the protective crag.

He pulled their mount to a stop and dismounted. When he offered to assist her down, she batted his hand away in annoyance. "I can do it," she snapped. She hadn't needed help dismounting since she was a small child.

With a sharp nod of his head, he left her there and walked toward the outcropping. Grabbing some large stones placed in a pyramid next to it, he quickly set up a fire ring. As he moved rocks aside, he uncovered a piece of leather closing a hole in the ground. The hole was filled with wooden kindling which he then used to build a small, smokeless fire.

_So this is a regular campsite,_ Ahna deduced. _Probably used by the Kanashi nomads._ Torn between curiosity and wariness, she watched him as he continued setting up their camp for the night.

Left on her own with nothing to keep her busy, Ahna's thoughts drifted back over the events from earlier, and her throat tightened. _Horse-pissing murderers,_ she silently raged. A hand gripped her shoulder and she jumped, startled out of her thoughts. "Are you all right?" her companion asked her, his hot breath fanning close to her ear.

Ahna trembled, and she took a deep breath to regain her composure. "Yes," she replied somewhat sharply. She didn't need his pity, and she wouldn't show him any weakness.

He didn't comment any further and let go of her to return to his preparations. He searched his horse's bags for a few moments, and then returned to the cooking fire with a bowl and a bundle wrapped in waxed paper. From it, he took out a piece of dried meat and some vegetables. In complete silence, he went on to prepare a hot meal, adding water and herbs to what smelled like desert stew.

Ahna looked around their camp. Should she try to leave now, while he was busy with their food? A grumble from her empty stomach made her abandon the idea. She was hungry and tired, and making a rash decision now wouldn't be prudent. It was better to wait for full darkness. And then, she still wasn't certain what he planned to do with her. He had made no aggressive move toward her since literally plucking her from the middle of her attackers. He had even acted solicitous earlier. Maybe running away from him wouldn't be necessary. Maybe he would let her go, or escort her to the nearest town.

"What's your name?" she asked, not caring if she sounded polite or diplomatic.

He looked up at her, pinning her with his blue, blue eyes. She stared back, refusing to turn away in spite of the unsettling intensity of his gaze.

"Kadar," he offered after a long silence.

"Kadar?" she prompted.

"Ibn' Al-Amar."

She raised her eyebrows, recognizing the name at once. "You're the captain of Prince Jalen's private guard. The man who's been hailed as the Champion of Zammar after the last war." That would certainly explain his clothes. And the rumors said he was of Kanashi origins, which would account for his familiarity with the area and their current campground.

He frowned at that, as if the title didn't particularly please him. He nodded once, stiffly. "That would be right, Princess Ahnanti."

Ahna jumped. Although Kadar was supposedly close to the heir to the Zammarian throne, she hadn't expected him to recognize her. As for her, she had only heard of Prince Jalen's captain through Captain Zahi's accounts of his military prowess.

Her surprise must have shown in her expression, as his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled with dry humor. "You were engaged to His Highness for a spell. Do you think you were to only one to receive an official portrait?"

Of course, it made perfect sense. As captain of Jalen's personal guard, Kadar would need to know what she looked like, if for no other reason than her security. Ahna sniffed in annoyance. She also remembered posing for that portrait. The artist's rendition hadn't been particularly flattering.

As if reading her mind, Kadar added, "The portrait didn't do you justice."

The compliment was unexpected and caught her off guard. She mumbled a thank you, uncertain how else to react.

Silence fell once again between them, until Kadar pointed to a place beside him, close to the cooking fire. "Sit. Food is ready."

Once again, Ahna bristled at being ordered around, but she sat down without a complaint, too hungry to argue. Kadar handed her a cup of stew. It smelled delicious and her stomach growled.

"Thank you," she said.

Kadar watched her eat for a moment, before nodding to himself. She raised her eyebrow at him, wondering what that was about.

"I see that the events of today haven't killed your appetite, Highness," he explained.

Ahna flushed, feeling both annoyed at him and ashamed that she could still be hungry after today's massacre. She looked away and gritted her teeth, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "My people died trying to protect me, and I couldn't do anything to help them," she ground out, then took a shuddering breath. "But although I mourn them, falling apart won't help. I'm still alive, and I'll make certain I _stay_ that way."

She forced herself to look back at him, defying him to shame her further for not acting as distraught as a proper princess should.

Kadar's lips twitched, and he nodded once more. "I didn't mean to imply you should. I much prefer that you keep your wits about you. We're not safe yet, and the Bathan rebels probably aren't far behind us."

"So, they were rebels after all," Ahna said, mostly to herself. Her anger toward her father grew another notch. Captain Zahi and the others would still be alive if he hadn't made such a public event of her departure. It had been only too easy for the rebels to mount an ambush at the canyon when they knew she would need to travel through it on her way to Al'Zafyra.

"Indeed, Highness," Kadar said simply. "They were Bathan, and most were dressed like peasants, not mercenaries. I concluded they were not your usual bandits."

"You seem to know a lot about the situation in Bathu." She didn't know if she should be surprised or wary that a Zammarian knew so much about her country and the political unrest that threatened its peace. Bathu and Zammar were uneasy allies under the best of circumstances, and the current turmoil in both countries had unsettled that careful balance between them.

This time, she was certain she saw wry amusement in his expression. "It's part of my job to be well informed, Highness."

She pursed her lips. "I suppose so."

Silence fell once again as they continued eating. Once they were done, Kadar took back her bowl, and cleaned and put away everything he'd used to cook. He rummaged around in his saddlebag and scanned the terrain, before returning to her side and sitting back down. He took a moment to get settled against the rock wall shielding them and lit a wooden pipe from the embers of their fire. Finally, he turned his attention back to her.

"What is your destination, Highness?" he asked her, sounding only mildly curious. "I will make sure you reach it safely."

Although she had been expecting this question, Ahna swallowed hard and nearly choked. "You don't have to go to that much trouble," she replied, trying to keep her voice light. "There must be a good reason for your presence here, and not at Prince Jalen's side. I wouldn't dream of seeing you set aside your task to escort me."

There. She hoped this would sound innocent enough. Having an escort was the last thing she wanted. Now that she was on her own, she could go anywhere—disappear—and her father would never find her again.

"No trouble," he answered, and took a puff from his pipe. "Where were you heading?" Kadar turned his eyes toward her, and waited for her response.

Ahna couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer. She had to find some plausible destination, and racked her brain for one. As the silence dragged on, Kadar raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"The town of Barratal," she blurted out into the silence.

He reached over and grasped her sleeve, brushing against the skin of her wrist. The touch, unintentional as it was, sent a shiver of sudden awareness down her spine. "Wearing a supplicant robe? There are no places of worship in Barratal."

She looked down to his hand. She had no answer for him.

"The truth, Highness," he said with a frown.

Ahna sighed in defeat. "I was being sent to Al'Zafyra," she grumbled.

"I didn't take you for a zealot, Highness."

Ahna blew a strand of hair from her face, and pulled her sleeve away from his grasp. "I'm not. It's a long story and not one I'm willing to discuss."

"As you wish, Highness."

"Just Ahna." She pursed her lips at how bitter she sounded. "I have no right to the title anymore, and in any case I've always hated it. It sounds so pompous."

"You remind me of Jalen," Kadar said, shaking his head.

If not for Prince Jalen, she wouldn't _be_ in this situation, so being compared to him did not particularly please her. Besides, Kadar's tone indicated he might not have meant it as a compliment.

"I am nothing like your prince."

Kadar cleared his throat, as if suppressing a laugh, and then leaned back against his elbows. There, he observed her, his blue gaze intent. Ahna wondered what he saw that was so fascinating. She stared back over their fire, refusing to look away.

"Hmm," he said after a short silence.

Ahna didn't like the sudden change in his expression, and she braced herself for whatever he might say next.

"Was it my prince's change of mind about the engagement that precipitated these events?"

She thinned her lips and gave him a sour look.

"This wasn't the first time an offer for your hand failed," he stated.

She shrugged. If he already knew the answer, why ask?

"How many marriage proposals did you sabotage?"

"Why does it matter?" Ahna snapped. How did he know about her failed engagements? The amount of knowledge Kadar possessed about her life was both disconcerting and annoying.

He nodded, possibly conceding her point. Still, he continued, "Why did you accept King Jameyri's offer then?"

Ahna snorted. "I had very little to do with it. My father is the one who negotiated everything with the Zammar envoy."

"But you didn't try to sabotage the proposal this time. Why is that?" Kadar's tone showed nothing more than polite interest, but Ahna seethed regardless.

She looked into the distance and ran a hand through her hair. "Your prince Jalen seemed moderately intelligent, and he's a competent general." _And he was my last chance._

Kadar took another pull from his pipe. Ahna couldn't be certain, but she thought she saw his lips quirk. "Yes. I can see the appeal," he replied. "But unfortunately for you, he then sent your father his regrets."

She nodded stiffly.

"And that was the straw that broke the camel's back, wasn't it? Sending you to Al'Zafyra is his way to save face and appease his opponents."

"Very perceptive of you." She wished he would drop the subject.

Kadar watched her for a moment. She held his gaze, unflinching. Seeming to reach a decision, he emptied the contents of his pipe in one brisk movement, and set it aside. "I'll make sure you reach your destination safely then."

"I don't need your help," Ahna replied curtly. "I can find my own way to the nearest town." _Somehow._ "And I have no intention of going to Al'Zafyra."

Kadar's features hardened with his next words. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

Her eyebrows shot for her hairline. "Impossible? I wasn't asking for your permission. Or your protection. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can, Highness. But as our goals coincide for now, we will journey together."

"Goals?"

"It's imperative I gain entry to the monastery. The priests will be expecting your arrival, so I'll escort you there."

"No."

"This isn't negotiable." He scowled at her.

She returned his scowl with one of her own. "You're planning on using me to get inside."

The Zammarian royal family had little power over the ancient religious order controlling the monastery, and one of their soldiers most probably wouldn't be welcome inside—even if he was the Champion of Zammar. But as the rescuer of the Princess Ahnanti 'den Bathu-arazi, he would be allowed access to the compound, at least for a few days. The question was, why did he need to do so?

He didn't refute her accusation. Unapologetic, he said, "My mission at Al'Zafyra is my first priority. I will complete it with or without your willing cooperation."

"That's abduction!"

He inclined his head, and sighed. "If this is what you want to call it."

His acknowledgment startled Ahna, interrupting the tirade she planned to unleash on him.

"Would it change your mind if I were to plead with you?" she said instead. She would if needed. "I'd even beg on my knees."

"No."

With this last hope of changing his mind gone, Ahna fell silent. Kadar kept his gaze focused on the dark horizon while she glared in his general direction.

Some time later, Kadar broke his stillness and grabbed a tightly rolled travel blanket from beside him. Getting to his feet, he walked around their campfire and stopped next to her. Ahna didn't particularly want to acknowledge him, but she still looked up when he dropped the bedroll on her lap.

"I'll keep watch while you rest. We have a long way to travel tomorrow."

She nodded stiffly, and looked down at the bedding—his bedding. Surely he wouldn't stay awake all night. All she had to do was outlast him, and when he fell asleep she would sneak away.

"Be aware, Highness. I sleep lightly."

Ahna scowled at his implied threat. It wouldn't stop her. She refused to go to Al'Zafyra and become a recluse for the rest of her life, regardless of the reasons he needed her there.

She clutched the blanket closer to her chest, stood, and made her way to the outcropping. After setting up her sleeping space, she settled in with her back to the rock wall where she could watch Kadar move about the camp. Eventually, he sat and stared at the flames, appearing deep in thought. Eventually his head drooped, and he seemed to fall asleep. Now it was time for her to act.

***

He heard her move even though a part of him was asleep, resting after what had been a very long, eventful day. As a soldier, Kadar always stayed on edge, never so deeply asleep that he didn't know what went on around him. He sighed. He shouldn't have been surprised, he supposed. He had seen the stubbornness reflected in the princess's eyes and the set of her mouth. She definitely reminded him of Jalen.

Yet, Kadar had hoped that their location—in the middle of the desert—and the dangers of traveling alone would have deterred her. Made her rethink her plan to slip away from him and forgo his protection.

Silently, he sat up, grabbed his sword's scabbard, and attached it to his belt. Ahna hadn't heard him. On the other side of camp, she was busy riffling through his belongings, putting aside what she thought she would need for her journey. The sight annoyed him, and yet... part of him was glad she had enough foresight not to leave without supplies.

He waited, wondering what she would do next. Would she actually try to steal his horse? His question was answered a few moments later when Ahna made her way to the bay gelding and began to untie his tether. Kadar decided it was time he interrupted her escape attempt. Moving quietly, he made his way toward the princess.

"Going somewhere, Highness?" he asked dryly.

He saw her freeze, her shoulders stiffening, and then she whipped around to face him. In spite of the darkness, he saw several expressions flicker across her face: annoyance, anger, fear. In the end, embarrassment seemed to take precedence over the rest.

"I... hmm... I just..." she fumbled.

"You _were_ just trying to steal _my_ horse and leave me without a mount in the middle of the desert," he finished for her, rather tartly. "Really, Highness. Is that how you thank the man who saved your life?"

His admonishment had the effect of oil on a cooking fire, and she fumed. "I wasn't leaving you without resources. You still had more than half the food in your satchel. And then, as you've demonstrated today—" her arm swept out to indicate their campsite "—you can survive easily here. I'm sure you'd find your way back to civilization before your supplies ran out."

"That's very... thoughtful of you."

Kadar hid his amusement as he led her back toward her bedroll, not letting go of her arm. "I'm afraid, however, that I can't let you leave." Before the princess could argue, he continued. "You _will_ be going to Al'Zafyra, and I'll be the one to escort you there."

Princess Ahnanti mumbled something under her breath that sounded like a curse. This time, Kadar couldn't help the twitching of his lips. The woman had quite a temper. If only he didn't need her to enter Al'Zafyra, he wouldn't mind escorting her to the town of her choice. Unfortunately for her, his mission came first, and so she would have to go along with his plan.

He didn't like forcing his will on a woman, but this time he had limited choices, and he didn't trust her not to try escaping him again. He stopped beside her bedroll and turned the princess around so she'd face him. She glowered, and he waited. If one could kill a man by looking at him, Kadar would be dead twice over. He wondered if she'd try to attack him. It certainly looked as though the thought crossed her mind. But in the end, she appeared to think better of it.

_Good girl_ , Kadar thought, relieved. Although she had proven herself competent in battle, he didn't think she would have made for much of an opponent against him, and he hated the idea of having to restrain her.

They stared at each other, taking each other's measure, before Kadar pointed down to the bedroll. "Get some sleep. We have a long road ahead of us and I need you rested."

When she resisted, Kadar scowled, removed his sword, and pulled her down with him as he sat. He was tired and irritable, and didn't have the patience for a battle with her. "Either you lie down with me, or I'll be required to tie you up for the night." Now he wished he had those few men Jalen and he had discussed before his departure. Threatening her this way would have been unnecessary with more people to guard the campground. But it was too late now.

"You wouldn't dare," she replied, sounding taken aback.

He raised an eyebrow, not answering. The standoff lasted until she looked away. With a grunt, she lowered herself to the ground, lying down stiffly on her back.

_Thwarted but not defeated_ , Kadar thought with a measure of amusement. He settled down beside her and rested a hand on her hip. "Lie on your side."

She tensed beside him, and Kadar thought she would refuse. Would he have to restrain her after all? Then, she humphed and rolled so she had her back to him. She was trying to stay as far away as she could, but Kadar wouldn't have it. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest so she rested flush against him, her enticingly plump backside pressing against his groin.

He winced. This might not have been his best idea after all...

He sighed and closed his eyes, tightening his hold on her. "Now you cannot escape. Sleep, Princess."

#  Chapter 3

Kadar woke for the hundredth time that night. Sleeping with the princess in his arms had ended up costing him his peace of mind and his ability to rest. That was an unexpected—and not quite welcome—discovery. He felt her every movement. Heard her every exhalation. Her natural aroma, a musk that reminded him of the sweet, night-blooming cereus, enveloped his senses and invaded his awareness. Worse yet, her toned body felt right pressed against him, as if she belonged in his bed. In his arms.

He needed to remind his wayward body that she was not for him. He was a captain of the royal guard, not a lustful youth. His honor balked at the idea of taking advantage of a woman who counted on him to keep her safe. He groaned. At least dawn was fast approaching and this torture would end for the night.

Gently freeing his arm, Kadar rolled away from Ahna and sat up. He wiped the grit from his eyes. A quick glance around the camp assured him everything was as it should be. For one, he still had his horse. He was glad the princess hadn't tried to escape again. He hadn't relished the idea of tying her up, or listening to her curse him for hours afterward.

Making sure not to wake Ahna, he stood and went to check on his supplies and feed and water their mount. They would eat a cold breakfast and get an early start. There was no time to rebuild the fire. They needed to leave with the rise of the sun and travel until midday. They would need to find refuge against the worst of the day's heat, but would resume their trek as soon as the sun had passed its zenith and not stop again until nightfall. Although there had been no signs of the rebels during the night, it didn't mean they had given up on their pursuit.

As he silently moved around the camp, making sure not to leave signs of their passing, he planned his next steps. To avoid the canyon road successfully, they would need to travel a full day north, then turn in a westerly direction. Another three days to get around the rocky plateau, and then north again for the remainder of their trip. Kadar gritted his teeth. It was only five days. He could handle five days.

Movement from the bedroll caught his attention, and he returned to the princess's side just in time to watch her sit up with a grunt and a yawn. Her long hair, the color of dark honey in the coming dawn, fell in a tousled heap down her shoulders, and for a fleeting moment Kadar imagined it was due to a romp under the covers. With him.

He shook his head to clear the thought from his mind. "Sleep well, Highness?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and emotionless.

Her eyes narrowed in response, and a flush crept up her neck and colored her cheeks. _Interesting._ She licked her lips, and it took his considerable willpower not to follow the movement of her tongue with his eyes. What was she thinking about, he wondered.

Ahna finally looked down and grumbled something—which he assumed was another colorful curse aimed at him—before giving him a curt nod.

"Good. We'll eat and then head out," he said.

She got to her feet and turned her back to him while she stretched. She then glanced around the camp, her gaze lingering on their horse. Kadar shook his head. "There is no way you can reach the horse before I catch you, so I wouldn't try it if were I you. And then, without a guide, supplies, or weapons, you wouldn't last a day."

When she didn't respond, Kadar continued, "Come eat. We will be leaving soon."

As she tensed and hesitated, Kadar was reminded of a feral animal, uncertain if the hand that fed would also harm. He almost smiled, thinking the princess wouldn't appreciate being compared to a scruffy stray hound.

After a visible debate between her desire to leave and her hunger, Ahna chose the meal he provided, and she made her way toward him. Kadar handed her a piece of dry meat and a cup of water from the stream. While she ate, her eyes kept darting back toward him, and Kadar watched her with curiosity. A moment later, she blurted, "Captain Zahi said that you were a prisoner of war. Is it true?"

Kadar scowled. Of all things... "He wasn't wrong," he said curtly, and turned to look at the dawn sun just peeking over the horizon. He did not want to discuss this—especially not with her. "Time to leave, Highness."

In spite of his darkening mood, Ahna pressed on, "Why join the Zammarian army, then? Why not rejoin the Kanashi once you became a free man? Unless I'm wrong and you aren't Kanashi?"

Kadar fought his growing annoyance and forced a veil of calm over his temper before he answered. "You aren't." He raised his hand, stopping her before another question could tumble from her lips. "No more questions. My past isn't up for discussion." He stalked toward their mount, grabbing the bag containing his supplies to strap it back to the saddle.

"But of course it's fine for you to ask _me_ personal questions," he heard her mutter under her breath. He didn't think that warranted an answer.

"Come. We need to go," he said instead, gesturing to the saddle.

She glanced at the horse, then at him, and then pursed her lips. She didn't complain, but also didn't make a move to join him.

He frowned. "Highness, we truly need to go before the sun comes up." After last night's discussion, he had thought her too practical to be stubborn just for the pleasure of irritating him. But maybe he had overestimated her. After all, he had met more than his share of difficult and fickle, noble-born women in his life.

Ahna gave him what he could only call a dirty look. "Give me a few moments."

Without waiting for his permission, she disappeared behind the rocky overhang. Kadar's first instinct was to follow her, worried she would try to make her escape with nothing but the clothes on her back, and that he'd have to bring her back kicking and screaming. But then, her voice reached him and stopped him dead in his tracks. "Don't even think of following me. I'm not going anywhere!"

Kadar felt heat crept up his cheeks as he realized where she'd gone. He scowled at a point somewhere on the horizon. He was a soldier used to traveling with men who didn't require much privacy to take care of their bodily urges.

"Be quick," he told her, "or I'll be forced to come get you."

A few moments later, she reappeared, and this time made her way toward the horse without his prompting. Kadar noted that she'd combed her hair into order and tied it back at the nape of her neck. She'd also somehow managed to cut into the coarse wool of her robe and tied the loose garment between her legs, forming makeshift pants.

_She's carrying a knife_ , he thought, and filed the information away for later.

"You'll sit in front of me again, Highness," he informed her blandly. He anticipated another long day of discomfort. Truly, he'd not been this aware of a woman's proximity since his wayward youthful years. He sighed. A visit to the _oholibahs_ —the palace courtesans—after he returned to Jalen's side should take care of this itch of his. He was already treating the Bathan princess badly enough without also making her the object of his lust. He wouldn't stoop that low.

Nonetheless, he winced when Ahna leaned back against him, apparently unaware of the half-erection tenting his pants.

It would be a long day indeed...

***

As she watched her companion inspect some invisible—to her eyes at least—track on the dirt path they were following, Ahna dismounted and checked on their mount.

She'd noticed the horse's gait change just before they stopped, and she wanted to confirm he was all right. Standing at his shoulder, she pinched his foreleg in her hand and pulled his hoof from the ground. The problem was immediately identifiable. The poor beast had a stone lodged in his hoof. Ahna reached down and grabbed a stick from the ground. With practiced fingers, she dislodged the irritant and checked the shoe's fit. Everything looked good, and aside from the fact the gelding was tired of carrying their combined weight, he was doing fine.

Ahna sighed and stood to stretch her back.

Of course, she was doing less fine. Being pressed against Kadar's chest had been uncomfortable. Not only was she acutely aware of his every movement, but she'd felt the evidence of his returned awareness pressed against her backside. Fleetingly, she wondered if he'd been as uncomfortable about that fact as she had been during the ride.

The horse looked at her and butted her in the shoulder. She rubbed his muzzle with her hand and patted his neck. As she stood there rubbing his fuzzy nose and murmuring encouraging words into his ear, she could almost believe she wanted to be in this harsh place with this man riding at her back. She sighed and blew a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Is the horse all right?" Kadar asked from behind her, making her jump.

She gave him a thin smile. "Yes."

"What was wrong? It didn't feel like a thrown shoe."

Ahna shook her head. "Just a stone. He's fine."

"Good," Kadar said, before looking away. A crease furrowed his brow as he stared into the distance.

"What did you see in the dirt?" she asked. Whatever it was, he acted differently now. He appeared distracted, concerned almost.

At first she thought he wouldn't answer, but he finally glanced back at her and replied. "Kanashi." His voice sounded aggrieved. For being one of them, he sure didn't seem to like them much. "We will go around."

"Why?"

"Time to go."

Ahna barely refrained from sighing in annoyance. Getting a straight answer from Kadar was proving difficult, to say the least. As she glared at him, he took the reins from her grasp. "Mount," he ordered, waiting.

With a huff, she complied. A moment later, he settled behind her, his strong chest once again pressed against her back. With a cluck of his tongue, he bid their horse to move.

They rode in silence for several miles. Ahna assumed they'd changed directions, but apart from the sun now standing at their back, their surroundings stayed much the same. She definitely was glad Kadar knew where they were going, as she certainly didn't.

He had wrapped an arm around her stomach again, holding her tight against him, while the other held the reins loosely. Unsure what else to do with her hands, Ahna gripped his forearm and tried to forget about his closeness, but it proved impossible to relax while feeling his warmth pressed against her back.

Just when she thought she couldn't handle the silence any longer, Kadar spoke. "How long have you been training?"

_Training_ ? It took her a moment to understand the meaning of his seemingly random question. _Oh,_ _weapons training_.

"Since I was old enough to know I wanted to hold a practice sword," she answered him. "And Captain Zahi always made sure someone was available for lessons or sparring. At first everything was done in secret—he could have been punished if my father found out, but fortunately he wasn't. My experience with a blade is a little known fact within the kingdom, but it's no longer hidden from my family." Ahna stilled her hands, realizing she'd been fidgeting with the cuff of Kadar's shirt. "I know the courtiers talk about how unwomanly I am, but I don't much care." She wondered if her bitterness at the courtiers' ridicule was as evident to Kadar as it was to herself.

"I doubt your father the king approved," Kadar commented dryly.

Ahna squared her shoulders. "He didn't." If only she had been a son instead of a daughter, then he would have seen her worth. But this was all in the past now. There was no going back to her father's court.

"Was the attack on your convoy your first battle outside of the training yard?"

For some reason, his inquiry brought a flush of anger and shame to her cheeks. She straightened her back before she answered in a clipped voice, "Do I look like I was ever allowed to take part in a real battle?" If only she had been, perhaps she would have known how to actually prevent everyone's death. She doubted her guilt about this failure would ever disappear completely.

"I thought as much. You did well for your first fight. Many a young recruit would have frozen when faced by so many."

The compliment didn't make her feel any better about it.

"In your sparring practices, how many did you face?"

"Never more than two." She huffed and blew a strand of hair from her face.

"And I'm certain they pulled their blows," he said, almost to himself.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, angry on behalf of her father's men.

"I meant no disrespect, Highness, but no self-respecting royal soldier would permit full engagement against their princess, no matter how well she fought or how often she trained."

Scowling at Kadar's remark, Ahna took a deep breath, ready to defend the late captain's honor.

"Peace, Highness," he interrupted before she could open her mouth. "There was nothing you could have done. Your convoy was at a disadvantage. Even twice your number may not have been enough to fight off the attack successfully."

"I should have done more." She swallowed hard before continuing. "I was no better than those young recruits you spoke of. Fear crippled me. Captain Zahi never told me this would happen. I was unprepared for it."

"It isn't something you can teach someone. All soldiers experience it at least once in their lives." He paused, before adding ruefully, "I threw up before my first battle. I was terrified."

Ahna was glad Kadar couldn't see her face. Her mouth had just dropped open in surprise. None of the soldiers in her father's guard had ever admitted to being scared.

"Your shock is flattering, Highness, but even grown men fear death. True strength lies in the ability to recognize this fear and conquer it."

The words stumbled out of Ahna's lips, and before she knew it she had started pouring her heart out to him. "My father would rather have seen me dead, I'm sure. He detested the fact I wanted to stand alongside my brothers, sword in hand. My wish to train with the men infuriated him." Her tone turned mocking and bitter. "He used to say, 'Ahnanti, a Bathan princess doesn't train for battle.' Or my favorite, 'Ahnanti, you are not behaving in a manner fit for a princess.' Oh! Don't forget this one. 'Ahnanti, your purpose is not as a soldier itching for a fight. Marrying and producing heirs is how you should be protecting your country.' But this isn't me! I'm so much more than a broodmare."

"That you are, Princess."

He'd agreed too readily, Ahna thought uneasily. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't detect any mockery in his tone. When he didn't add anything else, silence fell once again between them.

They rode for a while, before Kadar spoke again. "Would you like more training?"

It took a moment before his words sank in. The Champion of Zammar was offering to train her? He had made it perfectly clear that her only usefulness to him was as a way inside Al'Zafyra. "Why would you do that?"

She felt rather than saw his shrug. He didn't answer.

Ahna's initial sense of elation at the thought of training with such a fine warrior dissipated quickly. He was only humoring her—or worse, taking pity on her. "No need to overexert yourself," she bit out.

"Actually, I would like to see what you can do," Kadar replied, unfazed. "Your arms feel evenly matched in strength. I would hazard a guess that your Captain Zahi insisted you train both equally, perhaps with a saber and a dagger to counter your smaller reach."

A small, sad smile appeared on Ahna's lips. Zahi had spent many hours drilling her technique on both her right and left arm. And he had, in fact, insisted she learn how to wield two weapons with some competence. If only he were alive to hear it, he would be pleased to know his instruction had yielded results.

"He did. He was a good teacher."

Kadar nodded. "Then it will be an honor to take on your training where he left off, for as long as we're traveling together."

Unsure how to take his offer, Ahna fell quiet. He had no reason to help her, and so she doubted he would follow through on his promise.

***

Late that afternoon, Kadar led their horse to a deep-set crag that would serve as their campground for the night. He scowled as he looked around. He would have preferred to continue their trek until dark, if not later, as he'd seen evidence of both the Kanashi and possibly the rebels trailing them. Unfortunately, both his mount and his companion had had enough for the day and needed to rest.

Currently, said companion was slumped back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and sound asleep. Her warmth and softness niggled at his senses, and Kadar had to force his thoughts away from how nicely she fit against him. He pulled the reins to halt the gelding. "Highness," he said softly.

She groaned, and began to stretch. Her back arched as she lifted her arms over her head. She let them fall behind her, and they wrapped around his neck, tangling in his hair. Kadar tightened his grip around her waist. What in his ancestors' name was she doing? He didn't want her to fall, but when she wiggled her rump and rubbed up against him in the saddle, he had to call out to her again.

"Highness," he snapped, more irritated at how his body was reacting than at her. "Wake up."

She groaned, but retracted her arms and sat up straighter. She tensed as she seemed to realize her position.

"Sleep well?" he asked her, keeping his voice even.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice still gravelly with sleep. Then, after a giant yawn, she answered her own question, "Oh, yes. In the middle of the desert, deep into Kanashi territory. Forget I asked."

Kadar swung his leg over the horse and dismounted. He offered to help her down but she declined.

"If you wish to walk around and stretch your legs, feel free, Highness. Just stay close." By now, he doubted she would try to escape again, and felt confident that he could let her wander around without supervision.

Ahna nodded but made no move to leave his side. "What do you need me to do to help set up camp?"

The offer surprised him, but he pointed to the stone cairn. "Can you set up a small fire ring?" he asked, doubtful she ever had to complete such a task.

"I will," she replied at once, and moved off to get the stones.

Kadar watched her set the stones down, but quickly came to the conclusion that she knew what she was doing. He nodded to himself, pleased with her competence. The artificial helplessness so many women at King Jameyri's court liked to adopt grated on his nerves at the best of times, and he would have been irritated to see the princess use this same ploy.

While she continued to set up the ring, he went to collect some supplies for their nightly meal, never moving far enough away to let her out of his sight. A fact she noticed, since every time she glanced up and met his eyes, she scowled. After he finished collecting the provisions from the saddlebags, Kadar set the food items next to the growing fire ring and went to grab water from a small pond fed by a stream hidden at the back of the camping area.

He dipped the small cook pot into it, but the water level was too low for him to get a good pull without gathering silt at the same time. After pouring the water back into the pond, he rinsed it out and set it aside. Then he took out his canteen and dipped it into the water. It took several minutes, but once the cook pot was full he set it on the fire to heat and returned to the water's edge to gather a few desert thistles he'd noticed there.

"Does this pond look low to you?" Ahna inquired.

"It's the dry season, Highness. Water is always lowest right before the rains," Kadar replied and looked at her over his shoulder.

Ahna scanned the sky. "By the time the rains come, this source will be dry."

Kadar wanted to shrug, but held himself in check. Streams, ponds, and wells went dry at the end of the season. That was only to be expected.

"This is a scouts' camp, isn't it?" Ahna asked him, but didn't wait for an answer. "Your people wouldn't set up such a permanent encampment if the water went dry every season."

"They are not my people," Kadar corrected her coldly.

"Just look at the bank," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "It's clear that the water level is usually much higher. You can see the wash marks from its normal depth. Here—" she said and pointed to the ground "—and here. See the erosion marks?"

He stood, dropped the thistle beside their cooking fire, and went to join her side. Once he stood beside her, she pointed again.

"It's very clear to me that this is the high water line, right after the rains," she said and looked up at him. "This pond is dangerously low—even for the dry season."

Kadar felt at a loss. "Even if what you say is true—which I believe you are—there is little I can do. I am not Kamame."

"Kamame?"

"An _amesin_." Kadar paused trying to translate the Kanashian words into something she would understand. He couldn't remember the right Bathan word for rain, so he switched to Zammarian for the translation. "The Kanashi rain god."

"Oh." She turned her gaze back to the pond's edge. She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I know you're not a rain god," in Bathan. After a few minutes of contemplation, she looked back at him, her gaze assessing.

He tensed, watching Ahna warily. Prince Jalen sported a similar expression from time to time, and it always ended in trouble for Kadar.

"So, Champion of Zammar," she said after a moment. The use of his title did not reassure him in the slightest. "Are you still willing to fill in the gaps in my education? Or was your earlier talk only a wisp of smoke, easily blown away?"

He relaxed again, relieved to learn she simply wanted the training he'd promised her. He had been expecting something more nefarious. Maybe he'd been spending too much time with Jalen. "Let me finish preparing our dinner first. Why don't you begin by warming up?"

The devious glint in her eyes morphed into one of relief and pleasure, and Kadar wondered if she'd expected him to go back on his promise. Was this why she always seemed so prickly? He felt a measure of anger on her behalf. What kind of upbringing had she endured to view a man's word as false? It was a shame really. She was too lively a spirit to be crushed in such a manner.

Frowning at the direction his thoughts had taken, Kadar forced himself to focus at the task at hand. "I should be done in a few more minutes, Highness."

"Ahna," she corrected him and, before he could answer, she moved to more level ground to get ready.

Kadar shook his head, imagining Jalen's teasing when he learned about Kadar's present situation. He felt a pang of sadness at the thought, and hoped his friend was all right.

Idly, he watched Ahna for a few moments while she stretched, admiring her athletic form. She began with a few basic moves to warm up her arms and legs, but these simple forms quickly morphed into a more complex routine. Although it was somewhat different than his own exercises, he recognized their worth. Before long, she was moving around the small camp, striking and parrying imaginary foes. She truly was a delight to watch even if, Kadar thought with a wry smile, she made it easy for him to pick out her strengths and weaknesses.

Finally, he turned back to the small fire and squatted next to the pot of boiling water. While he was distracted, the temperature had grown too high to cook the desert thistle without rendering it to a pulp. He pulled the pot from the flames and began preparing the vegetables. By the time he was done, the water had cooled sufficiently, and he dropped the thistle into it. He added the vegetables, a few pinches from his dwindling supply of spices, and two slices of dried meat from his pack. He noted in passing that he would need to hunt for fresh meat in the next day or two. He hadn't taken into account a second mouth to feed when he'd initially provisioned himself.

"Are you ready?" Ahna called.

"A moment more," Kadar replied, and put the cooking pot next to the hot coals. The vegetables and meat would cook while they practiced, and should be ready by the time they finished.

He stood up, but stopped abruptly after taking only a few steps towards her. Ahna's languid smile, slightly damp brow, and flushed cheeks reminded him all too clearly of a well-sated woman. Focus, he chastised himself. As alluring as she looked right now, he couldn't think of her in that way. She was Ahnanti, Princess of Bathu, and his unwilling traveling companion.

She could be nothing more to him.

***

Ahna's smile slipped, and a shiver traveled up her spine. Kadar was staring at her now, his expression so intense she wondered what had changed. _He's trying to intimidate me,_ she decided after a moment, and squared her shoulders. _Let him try it. It will not work!_ Captain Zahi's men had done no less during training, but none of them had Kadar's seemingly single-minded focus when watching her.

"Do you think if you don't move that I cannot see you?" she taunted to break the tense silence.

Kadar's mouth twitched as if he couldn't completely suppress a smile.

"Or perhaps, like a horse's behind, you cannot move where the horse's head doesn't lead you?"

This time, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth twitched even harder. He found her insults amusing! This only encouraged her to continue.

"Stinky goat herder, you said you would teach me new skills, but I already know how to stand still," she teased, and smiled in triumph when her latest insult finally incited a reaction from him.

Kadar laughed. "Where did you hear such language, Highness?"

"I spent many hours with my father's soldiers. I heard and learned much." She could swear with the best of them.

He finally closed the gap between them, coming to a stop within lunging distance, and unsheathed his sword. He held it out to her, hilt first. "You carry a dagger, correct?"

As she took the sword from him, she replied, "A short dagger, yes."

"Regretfully, we don't have access to practice blades," Kadar replied. "These will have to do. May I use your dagger for this exercise?"

"Of course," she said. She retrieved the knife from her boot and gave it to him in exchange for his Zammarian sword. "Will it be enough, though?"

"Yes."

_Cocky bastard._

He turned the blade around in his left hand and moved forward to the balls of his feet. Then, he stilled, waiting. "Attack me."

Ahna was doubtful it would be enough, but she was interested in seeing him spar against her with only a small knife for protection. She nodded sharply and rushed him, leading with her sword. At the last moment, Kadar moved left, avoiding her attack. He whirled on his feet and his dagger came to rest against her side.

She froze, already panting slightly.

"Not bad, but you left your right side open to attack, here—" He tapped her ribs. He then dragged the flat of the blade slowly down her hip. "—and here." The knife's edge tug at the rough wool of her robe and teased against her skin. To her horror, she felt her nipples harden. She prayed he would not notice.

"If you hold your sword closer to your body, like so—" Kadar demonstrated by placing his hands over hers on the hilt and moving her arms in the correct position. "—you should see a marked improvement in not only your ability to parry a shorter blade, but also in preventing early fatigue. Zammarian swords are hefty weapons, and you should always keep this in mind when fighting for more than a few minutes."

He took his hands away from hers, and Ahna shivered at the sudden loss of heat. She blinked. She couldn't get distracted by his closeness now. "I understand," she said.

"Good. Now, again," he replied.

After a moment to observe him and try to predict his next move, Ahna struck. He easily deflected her blade with the flat of his dagger, and her thrust went wide. She quickly regained her balance before he could take advantage of the opening, and tried again. This time he hit her wrist with the dagger's pommel, hard. The sword dropped from her nerveless fingers, and she cursed in pain.

"You announced your intentions with the position of your feet. Keep your left side square," Kadar instructed, using his hands again to pull her shoulders straight. The touch seared through her, and she found herself captivated by his eyes and the shape of his mouth. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Still with me?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good." Stepping back, he fell into a ready stance. "Let's continue."

They started trading blows once more, and for a while Kadar appeared happy to simply parry or avoid her attacks. She grew distracted as she watched him move smoothly from one form to the next, more graceful and confident than any fighter she'd seen before. And then, like the fabled sandcat, he struck when she least expected it. The flat of his blade came down hard on her forearm and her sword once again landed in the dirt at her feet.

"How did I defeat you?"

"I was distracted by your beautiful eyes," Ahna blurted and then flushed, utterly flustered. Not that it wasn't true, but why did she have to say it out loud? He must think her some addlepated idiot now.

"I thought a horse's behind didn't have eyes?" he shot back, smirking.

"Even a horse's behind such as you can be beautiful, you dung-flinging hippo."

Kadar chuckled and inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Again."

They went on for what felt like an eternity to Ahna. After a while, her arms began to ache, her shoulder blades burned, and she felt so sweaty all she could think about was striping down to her smallclothes and resting in the trickle of water winding its way to the camp's small pond.

Kadar, on the other hand, didn't appear even remotely winded.

Squaring her shoulders, Ahna raised the blade and shifted her weight back and forth. If he could continue, she could as well.

She feigned an attack to Kadar's left, intent on ending the session with at least one true hit, and spun under his counterattack. Thinking she'd finally outmaneuvered him, she popped back up, but Kadar had once again seen through her tactic. He met her thrust with a parry. Their blades clanged and he pushed hers wide, before grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him. Unbalanced, she stumbled forward. He secured her hand, and the sword it held, so she couldn't hope to land a blow, and tugged her even closer—close enough to feel his chest expand with each breath, close enough to see the bead of sweat trickle down his jaw. She realized with a start that she was pressed flush against him, painfully aware of every inch of her body that touched his. She'd never been more cognizant of another person than she was that moment. She took a shaky step backward, and Kadar let go of her wrist.

Distance. She needed distance.

"That should be enough for tonight," he announced to her relief.

"I'll, hmm..." She trailed off, then rallied. "I'll go freshen up, then. Thank you for your instruction." She knew she was blushing; she could feel her cheeks burning. She fled his presence, and made her way to the water's edge. She dropped down on her knees to splash water on her face, relieved to be away from his presence.

Once she felt slightly better, Ahna sat back on her heels and stretched out her sore shoulders. Her robe felt hot and itchy now, and she longed to take a proper bath in a proper tub—which was of course impossible right now. Still, there had to be a way to at least cool herself down. The water on her face and neck was insufficient.

With a quick glance behind her, she decided Kadar was busy enough he wouldn't notice if she gave herself a quick wash as long as she didn't dally.

She tugged at the ties on each shoulder and behind her neck, slipped her arms out of the robe's long sleeves, and dropped the garment to her waist. The night air raised goosebumps as it hit her overheated skin, but she didn't pay any attention to the cold. She reached down into the still water and used her cupped hands to splash her chest and arms.

The water trickled down the skin between her breasts and down her back, saturating her waistband. She sighed in contentment. It felt good, and she wished she could linger here some more. She sighed again, this time regretfully, and pulled her the front panel of her robe to her shoulders and tied it, wincing as her arm muscles protested the movement.

She had to admit, Kadar's fighting skills were as masterful as his title of Champion of Zammar implied. His efforts proved that, unlike Captain Zahi and his men, he wasn't afraid to test her limits. She'd never even come close to defeating him.

"Highness?" Kadar called, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Coming."

She worked the last tie of her robe closed, and made her way back toward him. He was waiting for her, sitting on their shared bedroll, a mug of steaming stew beside him. He presented it to her after she sat down, and served himself a second bowl. They began to eat in silence. After a few minutes, Kadar commented, "Your Captain Zahi taught you well, but he didn't push you hard enough."

"I'm aware of this. He was afraid he or one of his men would accidentally hurt me."

"I understand. Your father would not have been pleased, I'm sure."

"No, he wouldn't," she agreed. "He didn't pay attention to me most of the time, but he still would have been angry to see me hurt."

"Was your father was aware of the situation? Of your training with his guards?"

"Oh, yes. He wasn't happy about it, but he was aware of it. Otherwise, there is no way Captain Zahi would have accepted to keep this secret from his king for so long." She sighed. "As long as I kept my most unusual hobby from being publicly known, I was free to pursue it. At least, that was the case until I reached marriageable age. Then things became more complicated. Before tonight, I hadn't practiced properly in months."

Kadar nodded, and she dropped the subject. Talking about Captain Zahi hurt too much at this point to go into more details. She finished her stew in silence and handed her bowl back to Kadar. After he was done cleaning both bowls and the cooking pot in the small pond, he returned to the fire and added more wood for the night. He did one last perimeter check around their small campground, before walking back to their single bedroll.

"Highness?"

She knew what he was about to ask. "You don't have to do this tonight," she said after a moment of hesitation. "I'm hopelessly lost and couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to." Worse, she wasn't sure she could relax enough to sleep so close to him, no matter how tired she felt.

"I would prefer to have you close at hand, Highness," he replied.

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

Kadar gave her a stern look. "Lie down and try to get some sleep. We have another hard day ahead of us tomorrow."

Ahna huffed, but saw no point in arguing with him. He'd made up his mind already, and as she'd come to learn, once he decided something, trying to change his mind was an exercise in futility. As he waited, she settled down on the bedroll, trying to find a comfortable position despite the hard ground. Soon, he joined her, situating himself at her back and throwing one arm over her waist.

"Can't I convince you to simply call me Ahna?" she asked after a while. If they were to travel together for a fortnight, she'd really prefer he stopped using such formalities.

"It isn't proper," came Kadar's answer after a long silence.

"Please."

Kadar's soft breath feathered against her ear as he sighed. Finally, he whispered, "Very well, Ahna. Now sleep."

#  Chapter 4

The next day, they started before dawn, wanting to cover as much distance as possible before the hottest hours of midday. Heat shimmered in the still air as the morning progressed, and the horse walked slowly, head low. Slumped in the saddle in front of Kadar, Ahna yearned for water and some relief from the unrelenting sun.

She stared at the blotch of green that appeared briefly on the horizon, only to disappear again. _Were those trees?_ she wondered, trying to focus her tired eyes on the distance. __ Then she dismissed that notion. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her, a byproduct of the hours spent riding under the hot sun.

She dropped her head back onto Kadar's shoulder and closed her eyes, sighing tiredly.

They'd already passed two campsites today, their wells dry and dusty. Although Kadar had appeared unconcerned by this discovery, the lack of water worried her. Their waterskins had run dry sometime before noon, and her parched throat was a stark reminder of the desert's deadly dangers.

"Are you awake—Ahna?" his voice broke the silence between them some time later.

"Yes," she murmured.

"Good. We'll take a moment to refresh ourselves before continuing on."

She groaned and opened her eyes. With a start, she sat up straight and looked around. In the last half hour, they'd reached the patch of green she'd believed to be a mirage. They were stopped at the most lush looking campsite so far on their journey. A large pool of water sparkled invitingly and several squat acacia trees provided shade from the sun.

Kadar dismounted and offered her his hand. She shook her head, declining his assistance, and jumped down beside him. Once she had joined him on solid ground, he rummaged around in his saddlebags, turned back toward her and handed her a strip of dried meat. When he didn't grab a piece of jerky for himself, she wondered if that meant his food supply was low. Or maybe he simply wasn't hungry. She hoped he would tell her if there was a problem. Wouldn't he? After thanking him with a nod, she took it from him and made her way to the water's edge. She knelt and dipped her fingers in the water. It was surprisingly cool considering the day's heat, and felt delightful.

Only after she'd drunk to her heart's content did she start on the tough meat. While she ate, she studied the oasis. Unlike the wells and streams they had crossed so far, the oasis looked unaffected by the drought.

"Its source is deep underground," Kadar said from beside her.

Ahna jolted in surprise to suddenly find him at her side. She hadn't heard him approach.

"I have never seen it low." His words were a reflection of her own thoughts. "We can't stay long," he went on.

She looked up at him. His expression looked troubled as he watched the horizon.

"Why?" she asked. "Have you seen signs of the rebels?"

"No. But, this oasis is used frequently. It's a popular retreat, especially for the young people. _Seina'ame kasesu,_ " he said in a language she assumed was Kanashi. __ Then, __ he paused, struggling for the correct translation. "Sacred for lovers," he finally explained. "We don't want to be discovered."

At his mention of lovers, Ahna's imagination drifted to an image of Kadar's naked body, and heat raced up her neck at the thought. She turned away before he could wonder about her reaction.

"We will get what we need here and move on," Kadar continued, oblivious.

Ahna nodded and looked down at the water. She then glanced at the sun, still high on the horizon. They had plenty of time before nightfall. "Kadar?"

"Yes, High—Ahna."

"How many more days of travel before we reach our destination?"

"Three to four more to get around the rebels and the canyon. Then, several more to reach Al'Zafyra."

_Sleeping herdsmen!_ This meant at least another week on horseback, with no hope to clean the filth off her skin and out of her hair. "I'm going to bathe," she announced, not caring what Kadar might say.

"We don't have time, Ahna."

He might not, but, soldier-in-a-brothel, she did. Before he could stop her, she undid the ties to her robe. Without looking back to him, she said, "Well, we'll make time. I smell like a mule and I'm going to wash. I'd prefer if you did not watch, but it won't stop me."

Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she shimmied out of the robe and stepped into the water, hunkering down as soon as it was deep enough. It was indeed cold, but after the heat of the past few days, it felt divine. Ahna dunked her head beneath the surface and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to untangle it. If not for the fact she was under water, she would have sighed in contentment. Finally, the need to breathe drove her back above the waterline.

After she caught her breath, she looked for Kadar. He stood several feet away, surveying the surrounding desert. He had positioned himself carefully, at an angle allowing him to keep track of her location while still giving her some privacy. And yet, she could swear she caught him slanting a gaze her way.

Ahna smiled, and dipped back under water, imagining his eyes following her movements and liking that idea. She grabbed a fistful of grit from the bottom of the pool and scrubbed the dust and dried sweat off her skin. She started with her arms and legs, then moved to her chest, and ended with her face.

Making sure she was rinsed all over, she stood back up and walked out of the water. She wiped the excess moisture from her skin and, wrinkling her nose in disgust, she pulled her sweaty supplicant garments back on.

"Your turn," she said as she joined Kadar at his self-appointed watch point.

"No. We need to leave now."

Ahna looked into the distance and spun around slowly. She didn't see any telltale signs of human presence anywhere, so she failed to see the rush. She struggled to keep her face impassive, but the urge to tease him was too strong to ignore. She sniffed delicately. "You smell like horse and sweat."

His lips firmed into a thin line of irritation, and she wondered if she'd been too blunt. She went to apologize, but he'd already undone the buckle of his scabbard and handed her his sword. "Stand watch," he said.

She took his offered sword and nodded. He turned around stiffly, and walked toward the water. Although he had his back to her, he still managed to convey his irritation in the jerky way he pulled his shirt from his waistband and undid the ties keeping it closed. Ahna couldn't help but grin at his discomfiture.

Kadar slid the garment off his shoulders and tossed it over a small bush to keep it out of the dirt. His undershirt joined it moments later. Ahna bit her lip not to laugh. She shouldn't. It wasn't polite.

Ahna soon forgot her amusement as she became fascinated in spite of herself by the play of muscles in Kadar's shoulders and back. With each of his movements, they flowed and rippled under his bronze skin, and when he stretched, she caught a glimpse of a small Zammar sun tattoo on his right bicep. He kicked off his boots and, before she thought to avert her eyes, he stepped out of his pants and set them on the bush with his shirt.

An unexpected flush of heat blossomed on her cheeks and down between her legs. She licked her lip and took a step forward before she could think better of it. Then she stopped and forced herself to look away. What was she thinking? She couldn't join him in the water. And yet, her desire to do just that was at that moment almost overwhelming.

But it wasn't long before she was again peeking Kadar's way. While she had been mulling over her feelings, he had entered the pond. Now water glistened on his skin, and she stared, following the path of droplets as they slid down his backside and thighs. At that instant, he turned toward her, and she tensed, fearing he would catch her ogling him. Fortunately for her, he reached for the boots he'd left on the water's edge without ever glancing in her direction. He took a sheathed knife from the right one, and returned to his previous position. Ahna watched, spellbound, as he then used the blade to shave away his two-day stubble.

When he leaned forward to rinse his face and hair, Ahna's blush deepened. The palace artists had clearly taken liberties in their depictions of the male genitalia, for Kadar's looked nothing like the statues around the palace. The protuberance between his legs looked both bigger and harder than she'd expected. He was partly aroused, she realized, and she longed to touch him; to see if it would cause him to harden all the way. She wondered what it would feel like with him thrusting inside her.

The thought made her sex clench in a pang of need. Her fingers itched to explore all of him, her mouth watered at the idea of tasting him. _Great Spirits!_ She wanted that man with a force that left her unsettled.

She swore under her breath. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She shouldn't even be thinking this, but who would stop her were she to approach him?

Once they reached Al'Zafyra, the opportunity would be gone forever. The monastery's inhabitants lived a life of abstinence, their bodies and minds turned solely toward their studies and devotion to the Thousand Spirits. Any sexual activity was punished harshly by the high priest or head priestess. A person's virtue was sacred. But... why should she strive to keep that virtue? She hadn't chosen her fate, had made no promise to be pious or chaste. She'd be a fool not to know the touch of a man at least once before she was denied that pleasure forever.

Kadar would be that man, she decided.

But not here. Not now.

Tonight.

The decision left Ahna light-headed with both anticipation and dread. Her heart beat too fast and she put a hand on her chest, as if the gesture would be enough to slow it back to its normal rhythm. She didn't need to worry, she reassured herself. No man would ever turn down sex freely offered.

_Surely?_

***

As he settled back to enjoy his evening pipe, Kadar glanced around their campground. It provided a convenient shelter, hidden from the path by the rocky escarpment they were traveling along. Regretfully, it didn't offer them a source of water, a situation which didn't worry him overmuch. Their stop at the oasis earlier that day meant they had all the water they needed for the night.

The oasis.

Something had changed. As a career soldier, Kadar never felt prone to flights of fancy, but he could swear the very air felt heavy with possibilities. He shook his head ruefully. He must be more tired than he thought. Yet the impression that _something_ was about to happen refused to leave him. He glanced around again, unable to detect any threat. The night air was still, the calm disturbed only by the sounds of small creatures scurrying out of their burrows in search of food.

On the other side of their small cooking fire, Ahna fidgeted, an action that reflected the tension he had felt growing in her all day. It was now so apparent, that he feared a simple touch would send her scrambling away.

But Kadar had caught Ahna watching him more than once today. He knew that hungry look in her eyes. The longing. His felt his body responding, hardening. _A dry hell._ He couldn't help it. He had been reacting to her since that first night.

Movement coming from Ahna's direction made him glance her way. She stood, fiddling with the ties on the shoulders of her robe. Kadar frowned when she took a step in his direction, the robe slipping as she did.

"Ahna?"

Ahna didn't answer. She looked down, but continued what she had started. The first, then the second tie fell open, and the robe slid farther down her arms, revealing the swell of her breasts.

"Ahna," Kadar repeated, growing alarmed. "What are you doing?"

"It's simple," she replied, her words stiff and annoyed. "I'm trying to seduce you."

One of Kadar's eyebrows shot up. Of everything he could have imagined... "Seduce me?" he said when he could find his voice again. "Do you think it'll be easier for you to escape if you exhaust me first?"

Ahna flushed a deep red, the color extending all the way to her ears. "No. That's not it at all!" She shook her head. "But you intend for me to go to Al'Zafyra. You have to know I won't ever be allowed to leave again, and..." She trailed off without finishing her thought. She returned to the task of taking off her robe. The garment slipped to the ground in a pool of fabric, and she stood there, exposed to his hungry eyes.

When had she taken the time to remove her smallclothes? But then her behavior indicated she might have been planning this since the oasis.

Her skin shone in the light of the campfire, and Kadar found himself fascinated in spite of himself. She was beauty and strength; lean and yet curvy everywhere a woman should be. Her breasts might be smaller than the average, but he could only wonder how they would feel in his hands, in his mouth. Her hips flared appealingly, and golden curls framed her sex. He gulped, like a youth unused to the delights of a woman's body.

At that moment, she shivered, a testament to her nervousness as the night air wasn't cold yet. But this didn't stop her from taking several steps toward him. "I've never had anyone in my bed and I don't want—" she said, then stopped to take a breath. Her voice shook.

"What don't you want?" Kadar prompted when it seemed like she was faltering.

"I—"

He waited while she gathered her thoughts. She tried again, stumbling over the words. "I don't want to finish my life a virgin."

The words hung between them, brittle as crystal, and Kadar's mouth opened and closed ineffectually. Struck speechless by her proclamation, he had nothing even remotely sensible to say to dissuade her. Part of him wanted nothing more than to comply with her request.

"Will you say something?" she snapped as the silence stretched. "Please?"

Kadar blinked, and let his eyes roam over the gift of her nudity. She deserved an answer, of course. But he had no wish to see her making a mistake out of desperation. "Ahna, do you realize what you're asking?" he said, his voice sounding raspy, but fortunately level.

"Of course I do." She sniffed. It would seem he had managed to insult her, and he wondered if she would retreat. Did he want her to? His mind screamed 'yes'; his body said otherwise.

"It's only sex after all," she added after a moment, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself of that fact.

Kadar scowled at her.

It was never just sex. Not even for the palace _oholibahs_.

Ahna took a shaky step backward. Her gaze dropped to the ground and her shoulders rounded inward. _Blistering suns!_ Now she probably thought he didn't find her attractive. Navigating feminine emotions had never been his strong suit.

Although he knew he shouldn't—she was Jalen's former betrothed, and out of respect for him, Kadar should leave her alone—he decided to take her offer.

"Come here," Kadar said, patting the space beside him on the bedroll. "Sit." He didn't like seeing her so tense, so unhappy, and knowing it was his doing. If they were to do this, she needed to relax first. _He_ needed to relax first.

***

Forcing her legs to move forward, Ahna made her way to the bedroll and sat, tucking her legs under her. There was still time to change her mind, she thought. But no. She would not. As Kadar's gaze lingered on her bare chest, she wondered if this was the part where she was supposed to kiss him. Before she could make up her mind about it, he spoke again. "Tell me why, Ahna. Why are you doing this?"

"I told you. Since you're forcing me to go to Al'Zafyra, it's the least you can do." She sounded petulant to her own ears, but she didn't care. She couldn't explain her motivations to him. She could barely explain them to herself.

"Is this a ploy to get me to change my mind?"

Ahna shook her head, a little hurt by his assumption. At this point, she knew it was futile to argue and the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "No. I know how important your mission is to you. I know you're not going to change your mind, and I certainly would _not_ use sex as a bargaining tool."

"Why me?"

"Do you see anyone else here?" Ahna replied, flippant. Then she realized that this wasn't entirely fair to him. She didn't simply want Kadar because he was a warm body and conveniently available. "I—" She bit her lower lip and looked away. "I just want to know how it feels at least once in my life," she whispered.

She heard him sigh. "Ahna, look at me."

He touched her shoulder, and the warmth of his calloused hand sent a jolt through her. She glanced up at him and was met with the intensity of his blue eyes, shadowed and unreadable in the firelight. She tried to look away again, but he cupped her cheek with his other hand to keep her immobile. She opened her mouth to protest his manhandling. Before she could do so, he leaned in and captured her lips with his. Her thoughts evaporated.

Soft and unhurried, he trailed his lips over hers, until the kiss consumed all of her concentration. She shivered, and a low moan lodged in her throat. Ahna couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, and she never wanted this moment to end.

When Kadar finally released her, she was panting. She could still taste him on her lips, potent as spiced wine, and it made her want to grab him and see if it would feel just as good the second time around. Instead, she reached for his shirt, and fumbled with the ties keeping it closed. Before she went very far, he took her hands in his and pulled them away. Freezing in his grasp, Ahna gave him an uncertain look.

"Don't you—" she started, but then he shook his head, stopping her before she could finish her sentence.

"If you're certain this is what you want, we'll do it right."

She blinked. "Do it right? I'm not sure I understand."

Kadar smiled. "Sex is more than a simple physical act. As you're not a woman of negotiated affection, I'd be an unfeeling bastard to accept what you're offering me without making sure it's pleasurable for you."

Once again he leaned toward her, and brushed his lips against her temple. Slowly, he kissed his way back to her mouth as his fingers traced a meandering path down her spine. Without a conscious thought, Ahna turned her head toward his kiss, closing her eyes as their mouths met. This time, Kadar's kiss quickly transformed, becoming more passionate, more demanding. With his tongue, he pushed against her lips, asking for entry.

Ahna whimpered, heat flushing her cheeks, and her skin tingled in a way she'd never felt before. As if waiting only for her moan, his tongue slid inside to taste her. She stilled, uncertain how to react. When he realized she wasn't participating anymore, Kadar pulled back to look at her, his gaze questioning.

"Why did you stop?" Ahna asked.

"Have you ever been kissed?" Kadar asked instead of answering her.

She felt herself blush an even deeper red, and she looked away. Why did he need to know? What would it change?

"Ahna..."

"Yes, I've been kissed before," she grumbled. "Just not like this." Kadar's kisses had nothing in common with her prior experience. That courtier had been cool and aloof. A man devoid of passion.

"I see," Kadar answered. He smiled at her, and Ahna's eyes caught on the small dimple it created on the left side of his mouth. She bit her lower lip, and Kadar's dimple deepened as his smile grew. "When you do that, it makes me want to bite your lip too," he said.

Ahna gasped in surprise at his bold words, and Kadar took this opportunity to steal another kiss, nipping her lip as promised. This slight pain brought unexpected heat to her skin, and she shivered.

"Stand up," Kadar said as he pulled back.

Feeling shy again, Ahna stood. Once she was clear of the bedroll, Kadar repositioned it so it would cushion the side of the boulder he'd been leaning against. Then in quick, practiced movements, he loosened the ties of his tunic and stripped it away. Settling into the bedding, Kadar sat and rested his back against the boulder.

Ahna studied the scars on his chest and arms, unable to drag her eyes away. Slowly, her gaze drifted upwards and she caught the cheeky grin he gave her, looking amused by her visible appraisal.

"Sit," he ordered her again, and patted the ground between his outstretched legs. As she went to sit facing him, Kadar corrected her, "No, face away."

She felt her heart pound in answer. She didn't like not knowing what he planned. "Why?"

"You are too tense," he answered.

"And having you at my back is supposed to help?"

"Right now? Yes."

Ahna struggled with herself, but in the end she sat in front of him as he asked, her shoulders growing tighter with apprehension.

She nearly jumped when Kadar's hands brushed her hair from her back, letting it fall over her left shoulder. He trailed his fingers down her spine until he reached her hips, and he gripped them between his hands, his touch firm and warm. After a moment, he pulled her closer, making her breath hitch.

"Breathe," he murmured, his breath a warm puff of air against her ear. She was painfully conscious of his body, his heat radiating against her back. A small shudder traveled her spine at the feeling.

When his hands again touched her shoulders, she twitched.

She was going to drive him away if she kept jumping every time he touched her, Ahna chided herself mentally. But it was hard to relax knowing what was about to happen, regardless of the fact she'd propositioned him.

And then, he started to knead her shoulders in strong, slow circles, and a groan of bliss escaped her lips. Until then, she hadn't realized how the days of traveling combined with her current agitation had left her muscles clenched into tight knots.

By degrees, Ahna felt her anxiety and weariness ebb away as Kadar massaged her knotted muscles. Slowly, like a collapsing paper lantern, her breathing lost its frantic pace and her shoulders relaxed. His fingers knew exactly where to push to relieve her pain. But as her body loosened, she became more aware of the man sitting behind her.

Dismayed, Ahna realized that her hands were gripping Kadar's thighs as he worked on her lower back. Instead of yanking her hands back, as proprieties would dictate, she let her fingers trail along the tops of his legs. Behind her, she heard Kadar inhale sharply, and she froze. Had she done something wrong? But when she turned to look at him, Kadar's husky voice stopped her mid-motion. "Face forward. I'm not done yet."

He didn't sound upset, and she relaxed again.

#  Chapter 5

They sat in silence, with Kadar massaging her back and shoulders, for much longer than Ahna expected. She was starting to wonder if he planned on putting her to sleep instead when he stopped, and she felt him lean closer.

"If you still want this, scoot back and recline against me."

When she didn't move right away, Kadar again spoke, "If you are unsure, I will stop."

"No!" Ahna exclaimed, but then felt embarrassed at her outburst. "No," she tried again. "Don't stop. I still want this."

"Then you need to trust me."

"I do." And to prove her point, she slid her body up against his and settled back as he had requested.

His warm chest pressed against the cooling skin of her back sent delighted flutters down her spine. Carefully, as if he was afraid of scaring her away, he placed his hands on her belly and pressed her closer to him.

Ahna looked down at his hands. They easily spanned her whole abdomen from side to side. It came as a surprise to her. She was almost as tall as Kadar, and she rarely thought of him as being larger than herself, but the size of his hands made her feel positively tiny. After a breathless moment, he began to rub little circles on her stomach, and Ahna's whole being focused down to the tiny movement of his thumbs.

He stroked back and forth, inching up toward her ribs, until finally he was gently teasing the skin under her breasts. When his hands stilled, her body rebelled, screaming to be touched. She exhaled in a huff. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, trying not to sound too needy.

"For you to breathe," he whispered against her neck.

She took another shuddering breath. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it. As she exhaled, Kadar trailed kisses and small love bites up her neck. He stopped his advance when he reached the soft skin behind her ear. After one last peck, he sucked in her earlobe and nipped on it gently. Goosebumps erupted down her arms at his teasing.

With his tongue, Kadar followed the curve of her ear. At the same time, he went to cup her breasts in his hands, his palms and fingers covering them entirely.

"Hmm," he said. "Just the right size." He gave them a gentle squeeze, and Ahna twitched in surprise.

Lightly, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples and she felt the skin grow taut under his caress. With each pass, she felt herself grow hotter, wetter. She rubbed her legs together in a useless attempt to relieve the pressure slowly building inside her.

"Kadar," she moaned.

Kadar reached up with one hand to cup her chin and turn her head toward him. He kissed his way from her jaw to her mouth. This time when he tested her lips, she didn't hesitate. She opened them and invited him in. Kadar pushed inside, battling with her tongue.

With each thrust of his tongue, she grew more aroused, and her sex throbbed. Ahna felt as if she were drowning in her need for him. For even as he kissed her, Kadar had not let up in his exploration of her breasts. He pinched and rolled her nipples. Occasionally, he tugged just hard enough to make her gasp from the pain and pleasure of it.

Finally, he let her escape his kiss, and Ahna pulled in a ragged breath. Everything in her body tingled, and she didn't know what to ask for to make the painful need lessen. Luckily, Kadar didn't give her time to grow worried. His hands teased down her ribs to the vee of her thighs. Ahna's breath caught in her throat when Kadar's hand hovered, stopped, then finally settled on her mons.

Kadar gave the shell of her ear a lick and a nibble, and let his fingers slide along the seam of her sex. Ahna pressed her legs closer together. He would feel her wetness, and although she knew it was a normal reaction, she felt embarrassed to already be aroused by his touch.

When Kadar pulled his hand back, she felt her face heat, and she worried that he had somehow changed his mind. But Kadar quickly banished her fears when he hooked one of her legs over each of his, spreading them open. Then with his hands he pulled her thighs up so that her knees were slightly bent. Once she was positioned as he wished, he gave her neck another kiss and whispered, "Open your mouth."

A little confused, Ahna obeyed the command, parting her lips. Kadar brushed his index and middle finger along her lower lip, in a sensual dance that made her shiver. "Suck on my fingers, girl," he murmured, and pushed his fingers past her lips.

At the address, the logical part of Ahna's mind rebelled. She was no "girl", but her body wouldn't listen. His husky words inflamed her, and she couldn't summon the indignation she should have felt. And the moment he'd slipped his fingers inside her mouth, she'd started sucking on them as if her life depended on it.

Kadar chuckled, warm breath tickling her temple. "That's it." She was happy to note that he sounded as breathless as she felt.

He took his fingers back and replaced them with his mouth, kissing her deeply as if trying to memorize every detail, to take her very essence inside him. She gasped as his moist fingers circled one nipple. She never knew breasts could be so sensitive. Still, all these actions seemed unnecessary. He'd said he would give her pleasure, and she'd already felt that at his hands. What was he waiting for? But as she wondered, he trailed that same finger down her stomach, and then lower, over her folds, spreading her to his touch. She bit her lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever felt, not even while touching herself.

_Great Spirits, what is he doing now?_

Kadar continued to nibble at the juncture of her neck and shoulder while his other hand teased her nipples in turn. His wet fingers glided back and forth slowly, spreading the moisture along the bundle of nerves that she thought only she knew about.

She felt her flush creep up her neck, ashamed to realize she'd begun panting. She tried to close her legs, protect her core against the too-personal touch. Kadar's hand stopped, and he wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her close to him. She froze when he used his feet to keep her legs propped open.

"Don't move. I like to see you like this. To feel you open to me. Wet for me."

His words transformed her blood into molten lava, her bones to water. Her eyes closed of their own volition and her head fell back onto his shoulder. Kadar continued, his voice a low rasp. "Do you know what it does to a man to feel a woman desiring him?" When he thrust his pelvis forward, Ahna gasped at the feel of his erection prodding her lower back. "That's what you make me feel, girl."

His fingers brushed against her sex again, and she strained, arching back against him. She wanted... more. Needed him to touch her throbbing bud. She couldn't stop the keening noise that escaped her lips. And yet, he continued to slowly glide his fingers along her folds, circling ever closer but never quite touching.

"Kadar!" she panted, pleading.

"Yes?"

Her mouth worked but no sound escaped it. Kadar circled, then pushed the tip of his finger inside her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her breath escaped with a whoosh. And she craved more.

"What do you need?" he asked, pausing his hand.

"This." Ahna grabbed his wrist, trying to force him to continue. "More. More of this."

He nipped the lobe of her ear hard enough to have her wince in pain and at the same time, pushed his finger farther in. There was resistance, the feeling of being too full. It was a little uncomfortable, almost painful. But when he slid his finger in and out of her tight passage and rubbing her from the inside, she gasped, pleasure awakening again.

"There... that's it," he spoke close to her ear. He pressed his thumb against the side of her bud, the new sensation making her moan. "Kiss me, girl."

As commanded, Ahna went to kiss his lips, drinking in the taste of him. She could get drunk on this. Forget everything else, especially when the hand between her legs made her feel like she might combust.

Kadar's thumb began to circle her bud in time with the thrust of his finger. In, out, around; again and again, at first slow and gentle and then more deliberately. He built a rhythm that seemed destined to make her lose her mind. Ahna grabbed at his thighs, her muscles trembling with the tension building inside her. The hand holding her chin once again traveled downward and stopped at her breasts. He kneaded the sensitive flesh before going to pinch her nipple. She gasped into his mouth, the exquisite pain bringing her arousal even higher.

Kadar chuckled. He trailed kisses across her lips and her jaw and murmured, "So, you do like a little pain, don't you?"

Ahna was at a loss as to what to answer, but it didn't look like he expected one from her. He continued rolling one peaked nipple, then the other, between thumb and forefinger as his hand between her thighs threatened to drive her insane with pleasure.

"Thousand Spirits," she moaned.

"That's it, girl," Kadar crooned, the lust coloring his tone unraveling the last of her control. "Don't fight it. Let yourself go."

Ahna's breath caught in her throat. Pleasure, centering deep inside her, crashed over her senses like a flash flood. She gasped, stiffened, and screamed, her whole world centering on this one moment of pure ecstasy. She'd never felt anything even close to it.

Finally, a few moments—or a few eternities—later, she slumped back against Kadar's chest, panting and still shivering with small aftershocks. Kadar ran a hand through her hair in a gentle, soothing gesture that made her want to cuddle even closer.

"Princess?" Kadar asked after a long silence. "Ahna..."

"Hmm?" Ahna purred, incapable of responding more eloquently.

"How do you feel?"

The question cleared some of the post-orgasmic fog drifting through her mind, and she took a cleansing breath. How did she feel? She felt good. No, more than good. She felt excellent. Perfect. She'd heard of the pleasures of sex, but had expected the accounts to be at least somewhat exaggerated. How wrong she'd been. "I never thought being with a man would feel this good," she finally admitted with a dreamy smile on her lips.

"Shall I continue?"

She nodded.

Behind her, Kadar shifted his weight and pulled his hand away.

"Lie down," he whispered, his voice husky and full of need.

Ahna untangled herself from his legs and did as he requested. She shivered, the loss of his presence allowing the night's cool air to chill her skin. Fortunately, this didn't last long, for once he was able to move freely he stood, quickly stripping out of his pants and rejoining her on the bedding.

Settling against her, Kadar kissed the corner of her lips, tender and teasing, while he cupped one breast in his hand, his thumb circling her nipple. "I love your breasts," he whispered against her mouth.

She didn't think they were worth the reverent tone of his compliment, but it appeared Kadar intended to show her how much he meant it when he took her nipple into his mouth. Gasping at this new sensation, she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him close.

When his mouth left her breast, the sudden loss made her mewl in protest. Kadar groaned. "I've been wanting a taste since I saw you bathing today."

The thought of the Champion of Zammar lusting for her was an incredibly erotic one. Brushing a lock of hair from his face, she stared into his incredibly blue eyes. Firelight and need danced in their depths.

With half a smile, he shifted above her, pressing her knees outward and settling between her thighs. She bit her lip to muffle her moan. His erection pressed against her mons, and the slightest movement would bring him flush against her entrance, ready to slide in. She cursed under her breath at the thought, wanting him inside her even though she feared it might hurt. He seemed so big.

Kadar must have sensed something of her fear, for he said again, "Do you still want this? If not—"

His words sounded strained, halting, as if he spoke through gritted teeth. Ahna knew from her father's soldiers' stories how difficult—painful even—it would be for him to stop without getting his release. And yet, he still gave her the opportunity to stop now, even though it would cost him.

"No. I still want this. I want you," she replied, blushing at the admission.

To drown her fear, she captured his lips, kissing him with a desperate intensity that left them both panting and shaking.

"This next part might hurt; I apologize."

She shook her head, wanting to tell him it didn't matter, but breathing too hard to find her voice. She didn't know how he managed to still speak so calmly. Instead, she ran her fingers along his shoulders, his back, growing bolder as he hummed in pleasure at her touch.

He pulled at her lower lip with his teeth, sucking on it for a moment, before kissing his way down to her breasts again. After teasing the already wet peaks with his tongue and bring a moan to her lips, he sat back on his heels and stared down at her. His hungry gaze left her feeling embarrassed and insecure, and she tried to hide her nudity from him with her hands.

"Ahna, you don't need to hide from me," he said, his words rendered harsh by lust. "You are beautiful." The desire in his voice sent ripples of excitement through her. It was a heady feeling to know such a man wanted her.

After positioning himself against her slick sex, he paused, breathing hard.

She frowned, wondering what he was waiting for. "I'm ready—" she started, but he interrupted her with a tender kiss. She groaned again, opening her lips to taste him. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, and at the same time moved his hips just slightly. His erection breached her entrance; the tip slid in. It was too thick, too full. Painful. It burned. Ahna grabbed at his shoulders, her breath coming in frantic pants. _Devil goat herder!_

Kadar left her mouth to whisper, "Just relax, girl. It will hurt worse if you keep squeezing me."

With an effort of will, she forced herself to relax as he'd instructed. With each careful thrust, his cock slipped farther in, filling her inch by inch. Ahna tried to breathe through it all, kissing him back to drown the whimper she felt building in her throat.

"I'm almost all in, girl," Kadar said between clenched teeth. Probably struggling to be gentle while she grew used to his girth, she thought. Sweat pearled on his skin from the effort, and when she licked one of the drops, he growled like a wounded animal.

"A dry hell, Ahna, you're killing me."

"Am I hurting you?" she asked, unsure.

He shook his head, the movement looking somewhat desperate to her. "No. No," he rasped, "but your tongue—"

He didn't finish, but she didn't need him to. With a jolt of surprise, she realized that she was making it hard for him to restrain himself. The idea that she could make him lose control left her both scared and giddy. Experimentally, she trailed her tongue along his collarbone and nipped at the muscle bulging at the juncture of his neck, and she relished his response.

"Ahna," he repeated like a prayer to the thousand spirits, and started gently thrusting inside her. Ahna caught her breath at the new sensation. When she did, he stopped again, his muscles trembling from the strain.

"Don't stop," she whispered, going to grab at his hair. Anything to keep him moving, even if she wasn't yet certain how much she liked this overfull feeling. She pulled his head toward her and plundered his mouth, forcing her way inside with her tongue to tangle with his. She wanted him to stop acting like she could break at any moment. He had a right to his own pleasure.

The kiss distracted Ahna from her discomfort, transforming it. Tentatively, she began to move in counterpoint to his thrusts. She untangled her hands from his hair and curled them around his back, holding him close.

She knew the moment he gave up trying to hold back. With a groan muffled by their kiss, he started pumping harder, his cock sliding in and out of her sex with increasing speed. Ahna held him close. Her hands drifted down his back to grab his ass, and dig her fingers into his skin. She trailed her lips from his mouth to his temple and nibbled at his earlobe, before she simply looked up at his eyes. She wanted to watch his pleasure, how he slowly unraveled on top of her, until his rhythm grew as erratic as his breathing.

With a moan, Kadar tensed up and started trembling. "Let go," he croaked. "Please, Ahna! Let go."

At his pained request, Ahna ceased all movement and removed her hands, concerned she'd done something wrong. Then, he cursed under his breath and shifted his hips, pulling out of her body in the process. With his cock pressed between their stomachs, he pumped his hips once, twice more, and with a groan she felt him shudder in orgasm. Finally, Kadar slumped back over her, and they both took a long moment to catch their breath.

When their breathing returned to normal, Ahna asked, unable to take the silence anymore, "Why did you pull out?"

Kadar sighed. "We're in the middle of the desert. I didn't have any other method..." He left the rest of his sentence unfinished and shook his head. "A babe at this point would create problems for us both."

Ahna opened, then closed her mouth, stunned. She hadn't thought about that aspect of sex at all. It humbled her that he had. "I—thank you," she mumbled.

He grunted. Lifting himself up to his forearms, he looked down at her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I've made a mess," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "Give me a moment, and I'll get us cleaned up."

She nodded.

After another more leisurely kiss, Kadar stood and Ahna watched as he made his way to their saddle bag, where he rummaged around inside for something—presumably a cloth for cleaning up.

Curious, Ahna pushed herself up to her elbows, and looked down to where their bodies had been joined. He was right, she was a mess from his seed and their combined sweat.

"Lie back," Kadar ordered when he returned.

Ahna settled back onto the bedding, and Kadar hooked one hand under her knee and gently pulled her legs apart.

"Do you hurt?" he asked her.

She had to think about it a moment. There was an ache—a throbbing deep inside her—but she couldn't tell if it was due to being unused to him, or from the afterglow of her orgasm. "A little. But I'll be fine."

He nodded. "I am sorry to have hurt you."

Ahna gave him a reassuring smile. "All is forgiven. I asked for this after all."

Kadar didn't reply, and simply took the wet cloth to gently clean her sex, her thighs, and her stomach. Once he finished, he said, "Sleep now. We'll need to leave early again tomorrow." Then he stood and made his way to their horse. She assumed he went to clean himself in private, but she didn't try to confirm that fact. Instead she rolled to her side and closed her eyes, sleep tugging at her mind.

***

Kadar rested on his side with Ahna in his arms, and listened to the princess's deepening breaths, a sign that sleep had overtaken her. He sighed.

What had he been thinking? He must have lost his mind.

Sex with—for all intents and purposes—his prisoner had never been part of his plans. He was already taking advantage of her—of the fact she was expected at the monastery—and felt like a bastard to have also bedded her. The fact she had once been Jalen's intended only complicated matters further. She was a forbidden temptation.

_Blistering suns_ , he growled to himself, further worried that he'd let her down. He had little experience with virgins, and none since he'd become a man, but he knew the first time could be painful.

_Jalen would have known what to do_ , he thought ruefully. But Jalen wasn't there. How his friend would laugh at him right now, though. Of course, Jalen would tell him to stop worrying so much. Ahna had initiated their encounter, and _had_ enjoyed at least part of his attention. All Kadar could do was act better next time.

_Next time?_

Was he truly contemplating a next time? Yes. He wanted another chance to be with her. Ahna was a physical delight in addition to an intellectual one. He enjoyed her company more than he ought.

Kadar gritted his teeth and tried to chase the idea away. There shouldn't be a next time. Couldn't be. But Ahna's warm body so close to his was making a fool out of his resolve. There was something between them that went deeper than the shared physical act. He'd visited the _oholibahs_ often enough, and they never created such a feeling in him. Her courage, her determination, her intelligence, and, yes, the strength and lushness of her body, all made her different to him. She felt... right.

Yet guilt ate at him. His growing affection for Ahna wouldn't prevent him from using her to reach Sadie's stolen books. He hugged Ahna closer. He wished things could be different between them.

#  Chapter 6

Kadar gave Ahna a subtle hug under the guise of securing his seat when their horse stumbled on a loose rock. The poor beast was exhausted, and still faced several more days of hard riding. Kadar debated dismounting and walking beside it to let it rest.

In front of Kadar, Ahna stared straight ahead, silent. She had been that way since the start of their day, and he wondered what she was thinking. Did she already regret their night together? He felt the need to break the silence and give her some answers. Maybe, then, she would understand the urgency of his quest, and why he needed her.

"Six months ago, some rare healing tomes were stolen from the shop of a young healer," he said without preamble.

"I'm sorry?" Ahna asked over her shoulder. "Healing tomes?"

Kadar chastised himself. She didn't have a point of reference. Jalen's illness was a secret only recently revealed to the court of Zammar, and it stood to reason that she was unaware of his desperate plight. And now that they were more than just captor and captive, he felt obligated to explain his mission to her.

"They belong to Prince Jalen's betrothed, Sadie. She is a magical healer, and she requires them if there is any hope of healing him. According to my informants, those books were recently sold to the Al'Zafyra priests. That is why I need to reach the monastery at all cost," Kadar replied.

"His _betrothed_?" Ahna asked, sounding surprised, and then after a short pause, added, "Wait, Prince Jalen is ill?"

"Gravely. Enemies of Zammar used the cover of our latest campaign against Qatna to curse him, hoping to render him unable to succeed his father to the throne of Zammar. Your marriage to him was to be his last chance at producing an heir before he succumbed to the Shifting Sands curse."

Kadar felt more than heard Ahna's sharp inhale. "The Shifting Sands? I think I read about it once. Isn't it supposed to transform men into beasts?"

"In a way," he said after a moment of hesitation. He didn't like to revisit Jalen's violent rages. "The curse steals a man's sanity until nothing is left. Then, it takes his life."

"How horrible," she whispered, then exclaimed out loud, "They wanted me to marry a _madman_?" She shuddered.

Kadar winced. "It was King Jameyri's idea," he said, knowing it didn't justify the decision. "Fortunately, it didn't have to come to that. Jalen found Sadie, and she managed to stall the curse's advance. A temporary solution only. And when I left the palace, Jalen was already succumbing to it again."

Ahna's fingers gripped his forearm, and he tightened his hug.

"She sounds very skilled," she said after a moment of silence. Her voice betrayed no emotion, and Kadar couldn't tell whether she felt disappointment or anger at the fact Sadie had taken her place at Jalen's side. Considering her reaction to the news they'd wanted her to marry a madman, probably not.

"She is," he confirmed. "She also cares about Jalen a great deal."

"And does he love her?" she asked bluntly.

Although taken by surprise by this question, Kadar answered at once. "Yes, he does. He would lay down his life for her."

"So, he's not simply using her for his own gain then," she said under her breath. That appeared to satisfy her somehow, for she nodded. "There is one thing I don't understand. Who would be foolish enough to steal from the prince's betrothed? Especially something as valuable as those books."

"They didn't actually know each other when the theft happened." How much should he tell her? He decided on the basics. "Are you aware of the unrest Zammar's capital went through at the beginning of the last dry season?"

Ahna nodded. "I heard reports of public executions, many involving common or lowborn citizens of rising influence."

"They were all healers," Kadar replied. "As part of the plot to kill Jalen, his enemies schemed to have all magical practitioners capable of healing him killed under the accusation of being witches. They nearly succeeded."

Another sharp intake of breath from Ahna, and she said, "So, someone in King Jameyri's court then. No one else would have had the power necessary to decree such a thing."

Kadar found himself nodding in agreement with her deduction. "The traitor was very close to the throne. King Jameyri married a much younger woman a few years ago, and his new wife desperately wanted her own son to inherit the crown after the king's death. As he is but a newborn, this would allow her to spend years as regent. Only Jalen stood in the way of her ambitions."

"I see. I'd heard about her execution, but not the full reason for it."

"As for Sadie, she was arrested under false pretenses, and she was about to be executed when Jalen rescued her. Unfortunately, during her incarceration her home was looted and burned and her personal effects—including her healing tomes—taken and sold. I was able to follow the trail all the way to Al'Zafyra, where they are now. I need to get them back for her. Jalen's sanity and life depends on it." He sighed. "I'm sorry you are mixed up in this. I would much prefer to let you go your own way. Unfortunately, my mission does come first, and that means that I need you to come with me to Al'Zafyra."

"Because my presence will allow you to enter the monastery." Ahna didn't make it sound like a question. She understood, or at least appeared to. She might not be enthusiastic, but she wasn't overtly blaming him anymore either.

Kadar sighed. "This is the easiest way for me to do so. The monastery doesn't welcome visitors, not even official envoys. But they are already expecting your arrival, and as your bodyguard, they'll let me in."

She nodded, but it didn't make him feel any better. "You do what you need to do. I understand." She hesitated for a few more moment, and then added, "I will do what I can to help."

Kadar wished there were a better solution. He was an honorable man, and his conscience rebelled at using the princess in this way. But Prince Jalen's life was his first priority. Perhaps after he secured Sadie's books and returned them to her, he could come back for Ahna. Help her escape the monastery, and escort her to safety. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do.

"Kadar, I can tell you're brooding," Ahna broke into his thoughts. "Don't. I said I would help you, didn't I?"

"Only because you have no choice."

"We always have choices. I could always run away."

He snorted softly. "Like last time? If I remember well, you managed to get, oh... about twenty-five feet away before I caught you?"

Ahna turned her head so she could glare at him. But a smile also tugged at the corner of her lip when she replied, "Next time, you wouldn't be so lucky!"

Her teasing lifted his mood somewhat. Yet he felt compelled to say, "Once I return the books to Sadie, I'll come back for you."

She perked an eyebrow at him, but stayed quiet, silently urging him to continue.

"I won't abandon you in Al'Zafyra. I give you my word as a Zammarian officer."

His word was all he could give her.

"The word of the Champion of Zammar," Ahna mused out loud, then nodded. "I believe you. I'll wait for your return." The wry twist of her mouth added a silent _And you better keep your promise_.

First, though, he needed to actually get them to the monastery safely. He hadn't told Ahna yet, but he had seen multiple signs of their rebel pursuers in the last few hours. There were also traces that a Kanashi tribe had stopped nearby, and he was doing everything he could to avoid both groups.

***

Ahna stared at the glowing embers of their small campfire, deep in thought. Beside her, Kadar smoked his usual evening pipe, and the smell of his fragrant tobacco wafted toward her. Ahna's skin tingled as that smell brought back memories of tasting tobacco on Kadar's lips. Of their bodies entwined and their shared moans of pleasure. She could remember all too well the feel of him sliding inside her, of the strong muscles of his back rippling under her hands. She wanted to feel all of it again.

_You could ask him,_ she reminded herself. It had worked for her the night before. The idea of doing so made her heart pound. Would it work a second time, or should she try something else?

She never understood why most women at her father's court didn't simply ask for what they wanted. Instead they tried to manipulate others into giving them what they needed. Not only did Ahna not like underhanded tactics, she found them most inefficient. Playing such amorous games had to be exhausting, and the chances of success, as far as she could tell, were not that high. She preferred being upfront with her desires.

Only... she didn't know if he would welcome her advances tonight. Kadar had not mentioned a next time. To be fair, she hadn't either. She hadn't planned on anything more than one night of discovery and pleasure.

Squaring her shoulders against her own misgivings, Ahna set to work on the ties of her robe. They had grown stiff from the grime and dust of the road and she encountered some unexpected problems working them loose. Eventually the first knot came free and she slowly slid her hand over to work on the next one.

As the second one came undone, Kadar's gaze came to rest on her, and he frowned.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Ahna managed to withhold her snort of amusement. He didn't sound aggrieved exactly, more like uncertain, but his voice had turned husky. She let the top of her robe slide down her shoulders.

Kadar put his still-lit pipe aside. His voice was further strained when he repeated, "Ahna? What are you doing?"

Trying to hide her nervousness— _please, don't push me away,_ she silently prayed—she huffed a little laugh, and intentionally duplicated their conversation from the night before. "Trying to seduce you," she said. "A second time."

"Why?"

She paused, perplexed. Out of all the stories she'd heard in the training yard, none of them indicated a man would question a woman's affections. Maybe he really didn't want her and she'd misinterpreted his body signals. "You made me feel wonderful last night and I would like to feel that way again," she said, hating the fact that her voice had trembled. Surely she could survive his rejection, if truly he didn't want her. Then, why did she fear his response so much?

"Ahna, we really shouldn't."

"Why not? Al'Zafyra is several days away still. And I fail to see any reason why we should abstain." She bit her lower lip. "Unless—" Unless he regretted the night before.

"What about your honor?"

Ahna perked an eyebrow, not sure she'd heard him correctly. "My... honor?"

"I know Bathan customs place great honor in a woman's, hmm... virtue before marriage."

She gave him an incredulous look. "My virtue? _That_ 's what you are worried about? You realize we've killed that horse already don't you? Quite thoroughly I might add."

Kadar made a face. "I know and I apologize for this. I should have—"

"It was my decision to make, Champion of Zammar," she interrupted, annoyed. "I couldn't care less about my honor when it's become clear I'll never marry."

Eyes downcast so she couldn't see his expression, she started to untie his tunic. Kadar gripped her wrists, and gently pulled her hands away from his chest.

"Ahna," he breathed. "Stop."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she looked down, gritting her teeth in an effort to keep the tears from falling. She tried to get up, get away, but he didn't let go of her wrists.

Kadar reached up with one hand and stroked her hair. "Look at me."

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his, and he studied her for a moment. She couldn't read his expression. The silence felt oppressive. Finally she asked in a small voice, "Don't you want me?"

She watched and waited for his response. Kadar sighed deeply. "I do want you. More than I should."

"Then why do you push me away?"

He shook his head, opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again and smiled ruefully. "I was trying to protect you from yourself."

Ahna gave him a sharp look, but he raised a hand to stop her before she could snap that she didn't need him to do so.

"I am beginning to realize it's unnecessary," he said.

"It is," she replied tartly.

"So, Princess, seduce me." He pulled his hands away and gave her a charming grin.

Ahna's lips curled up in a smile, and she leaned in to give his earlobe a nip. She took her time and kissed her way along his jaw to his lips, enjoying the feel of a day's worth of beard on his cheek. After capturing his mouth with hers, she teased his lips with her tongue to entice him to open for her to explore. In spite of his intention to let her "seduce him", it didn't take long before he took control of the kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he pulled her closer.

Finally he let her come up for air. Ahna watched him for a moment, then asked, "Is it working?"

Kadar groaned, "Is it working?" He took her hand in his, and placed it on his groin. She could feel his erection through his pants. "You tell me."

She slid her hand along his length, and he hissed through clenched teeth. Licking her lips, she said, "I would have to say, yes, it is."

She moved her hand up to his waistband, plucked the knots loose, and flipped the edges open to reach inside. She found the prize she sought, and laced her fingers around his cock, marveling at the silky smooth skin covering the firm flesh, and squeezed lightly.

When Kadar's breath faltered, she grinned. Growing bolder in her exploration, she slid her hand up and down a few times. His muscles tensed; his breaths grew shallower. Ahna relished the power she held to make him feel that way. It was intoxicating to know she was now giving him the same pleasure she had received the night before.

After a few more exploratory strokes, she removed her hand, yanked her supplicant robe up and over her head, and tossed it to the side. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she shimmied out of her thin underwear. Now nude, Ahna threw one leg over his hips and settled her body over his lap. The linen of his pants felt smooth against the tender flesh of her thighs, and his erection nestled perfectly against her heated sex.

Ahna rolled her hips, relishing the feel of him pressing against her, and Kadar groaned. His hands reached for her sides, but then he shook his head and forced himself to drop them back to his sides. "You're in charge," he said in a husky voice. "What do you want to do now?"

She smiled. Reaching forward, she teased open the rest of the ties holding his undershirt closed, and let it fall open.

The scars on his chest called to her, and she let her fingertips play over the different marks. Some were shiny and pale, showing their age, but others looked more recent. Zammar's war with Qatna was currently quiescent, and had been for several months. She supposed he could have gotten the blade scars from that battle, but they looked fresher than that. Ahna leaned down, and on a whim kissed a mark on his chest. His breath hitched, and that brought another smile to her lips. If she licked him, she wondered if he'd react the same way as last night. All animalistic lust. She grinned and tongued the largest line on his chest.

"Ahna," he whispered hoarsely and reached up to cup her chin in his hand. He pulled her forward and captured her lips in his. His kiss was like breathing in the smoke of a poppy—intoxicating. She let him control the kiss for a few moments, basking in the battle of their tongues and the play of their lips, before finally breaking it off.

"You had your turn last night. Right now it's mine," she told him, and pulled his hand from her cheek. She reached for his other one, and although his eyes held some concern, he let her place them above his head. She gave his nose a quick nip, and then a peck on the lips that quickly morphed into another scorching kiss.

When she finally pulled away, she said, "Keep them there."

"As you command, Your Highness," he replied.

Ahna was about to correct him on his use of the honorific instead of her name, when she caught the twinkle in his eye. She felt the corners of her lips turn up as she realized he was teasing her. Playful Kadar was an unexpected discovery; he always acted so serious. She liked this new aspect of his personality. A wicked thought came to her mind, and she began to kiss her way down his jaw to his neck, and nibbled at the skin on his shoulder.

For the next several minutes, Ahna teased, licked and kissed her way down Kadar's chest and stomach, and enjoyed inspecting each scar. His cock twitched against her stomach, and then her bare breasts as she slid lower. Kissing the skin just above the waistband of his pants, she grinned at hearing how ragged Kadar's breathing had become.

She hooked her fingers under the edge of his waistband and tugged at the fabric. Kadar lifted his hips, allowing her to more easily remove his pants. She licked her lips as she pulled the garment down his thighs and freed him from its confines. Tossing the pants aside, she let her eyes travel all over his body; last night he'd been the one in control, and she'd not had a chance to take a good look at him.

Her desire to touch him moved her forward in spite of some uncertainty as to what to do next. She ran her hands along his inner thighs, lightly scraping the skin with her nails, until her fingers reached the crease of his hips. She felt him shift his weight under her, and he made a visible effort to stay still. Emboldened by Kadar's reaction, Ahna ran her fingers higher, teasing the crease where his inner thigh met his cock and ball sac.

Again, he squirmed under her touch. The mighty Champion of Zammar was wiggling! Ahna felt a grin tug at her lips. That was thoroughly undignified for such a warrior, and she loved it.

Finally she looked up. The hungry look Kadar gave her sent a jolt of pure need straight through her. She could feel how slippery her sex was becoming. "What do you need?" she asked. She suppressed her amusement, knowing she shouldn't be so pleased at being able to repeat his question from last night.

"This, girl." Kadar grabbed her wrist, and curled her fingers around his cock. "More of this."

Ahna was more than happy to oblige, and took a moment to simply enjoy watching and touching him as she listened to his shuddering breaths. His desire heightened her own until she couldn't wait any longer.

Sliding forward, she settled her pelvis over his hips and rubbed herself against him, coating his length with her juices. The friction made her gasp, and she shuddered in need.

"Ahna," he rasped.

"Yes, Kadar?"

"You're torturing me."

She smiled. She was also torturing herself in the process. But no more. Ahna lifted her hips, and Kadar's hand went between them to position his cock at her entrance. _Take it slow,_ she thought. She was slightly sore from the night before _._

Carefully, slowly, she lowered herself down on his length, working him into her body until finally he was buried fully inside. Moaning softly, she took a moment to enjoy the feeling, the slight burn of his shaft stretching her.

"Come here, girl," Kadar whispered.

Ahna leaned forward and Kadar captured her lips with his, coaxing her into another scorching kiss while his hands traveled from her shoulders down her sides and stomach. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. As their kiss ended, he said, "You feel—" He groaned and rocked her up and down on his cock. "Perfect."

The lust-filled compliment heated Ahna's blood, and she began to move without Kadar's prompting. He brought one of his hands to his lips and moistened the tip of his thumb with his tongue, before bringing it back down to her bud. When he began to rub gently in a circle, she thought she might go up in flames. The sensation was painfully exquisite, and she paused, lost to the mounting pleasure. The hand still on her hip dug in a little harder, bidding her to go on.

Almost imperceptibly, Kadar increased the pressure and speed of his thumb on her bud, and Ahna's focus turned inward as her body began its climb toward orgasm. She closed her eyes and hung on for dear life.

Through the haze in her mind, she heard Kadar moan and he said in a choked voice, "I'm close, Ahna."

She wasn't far behind him. Their rhythm grew faster, more erratic, as they both rose toward their peak.

"I can't hold back," Kadar ground out after a moment, and grabbed her hips in both hands. With a groan, he lifted her up high enough to withdraw. Then, he pulled her back down, trapping his cock between her sex and his stomach. His fingers tightened, gripping her so hard she thought he would leave bruises. His expression looked pained when his whole body seized under her and he let out a strangled cry. As the sound died on his lips, he went slack.

Leaning forward, Ahna gave him a tender kiss.

"I'm sorry," Kadar said, sounding contrite.

"About what?" she replied, puzzled. What did he feel the need to apologize for? She hoped he didn't still feel guilty for giving in to her attempts at seduction.

"You didn't finish..." His voice trailed off.

_Orgasm?_ She shrugged. It didn't much matter to her; she had still thoroughly enjoyed herself.

"Give me a moment to clean up, and I'll assist you," he told her.

"There is no need," she replied, even though her body still hummed from each of his touches.

"I want to," he insisted, and helped her shift her weight off him.

She settled down on the blanket as he stood, holding his cock close to his stomach. He moved out of her sight, and moments later she heard a splash of water and a curse. When he joined her on the blanket, she saw goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Don't laugh, woman. That water is cold and it could have been you needing a washing."

Ahna bit her lip at his stern tone of voice. She knew him well enough now to realize he was joking.

"Now, where was I?" he murmured and settled his hand on her mons. He slid his fingers up and down her folds, wetting them in her juices. When he slid two fingers inside her, she arched her back and mewled.

He set up a rhythm that catapulted her arousal from simmering to exploding. Within moments, the muscles in her belly coiled until everything grew taut. Time stood still as she teetered at the cusp of her climax. Another thrust and swirl of his fingers sent her crashing over the edge. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"That's it," he whispered in her ear, slowing his stroke as she floated back down. "That's my girl."

Ahna smiled and went limp. She didn't want to move. Just as she was starting to drift off she felt Kadar cover them with a blanket and pull her close. She didn't even have the energy to protest falling asleep naked at his side.

***

Ahna's slow breathing accompanied Kadar's thoughts for the next few hours. At one point, he thought of waking her so they could both get dressed, but then thought better of it. He had been riding her hard in these last few days in his attempt to leave Kanashi territory before they were spotted. She had earned her rest.

After a time, his thoughts wandered back to their joining. For the second time now, in spite of his promise to himself, he had taken her to bed. Nonetheless, he couldn't find it in him to regret this time spent with her. He splayed his fingers over her stomach, pulling her a little tighter against him, and took in her scent. She smelled of the desert and of a woman well pleasured. He had done that.

Blistering suns, Jalen would have a good laugh when he learned of Kadar's situation. Of the two of them, Kadar was supposed to be the rational one. He really needed to reach Al'Zafyra as quickly as possible. And then...

A glint of light caught Kadar's attention as he was about to close his eyes. He tensed and very gently disentangled himself from Ahna so he could sit up. He squinted into the distance, and waited. A minute passed with nothing disturbing the utter silence of the night. Then another. Nothing stirred, and Kadar scowled. Could he have imagined it? He had never possessed a fanciful imagination, but he hadn't been paying as much attention to his surroundings as he probably should have. Still, the glint had looked like the reflection of moonlight on a metallic surface. Polished metal didn't come naturally in the desert.

Then came the sound of pebbles rolling in the dirt, the barest of whisper in the wind. Kadar cursed under his breath, but did not make a move. Of course, this could be the doing of a desert cat or some other nocturnal predator, but he didn't believe so. He also didn't believe this could be the rebels. The rebels wouldn't be this quiet in an environment that wasn't their own, and they would have attacked already.

This left only one possibility. He gritted his teeth. He would see in the morning.

Of all the rotten luck...

#  Chapter 7

The next evening, Ahna stared at the dancing flames of their small campfire, desperately trying to keep her eyes open. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

Something was wrong. Ahna could feel it, permeating the air like a brewing sandstorm. She looked over to Kadar, who was staring at the darkening landscape with an air of total concentration.

She strained to hear the sounds of the coming night over the gentle crackling of the fire, and her palms grew clammy. Kadar was always cognizant of their surroundings, but she'd never seen him this intense before.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she murmured, hoping for an answer this time. "The rebels?"

Kadar held up a hand to silence her. Annoyed, Ahna pursed her lips at the reprimand, but she refrained from voicing her snappy reply. _This isn't good,_ she thought, and surreptitiously reached for her dagger.

She readied herself for an attack when Kadar spoke, his voice breaking the long silence.

" _Ord unu borum. Gmel kiya,_ " he said in a guttural language she didn't understand.

She jumped when a moment later a man stepped into the circle of light created by the fire. The flickering light emphasized a face that was all planes and hard angles, adorned by a geometric tattoo on one temple. Shiny metal beads decorated the tips of the thin braids on the right side of his head and his ears sported several gold earrings.

_A Kanashi warrior._

They were in the tribes' territory, so it wasn't a complete surprise to meet one of their scouts, but his arrival at their encampment didn't necessarily bode well for them. Although the Kanashi tribes were mostly known for being aloof, she'd also heard rumors of them sometimes harassing travelers trespassing on what they considered their lands.

After an initial moment of worry, Ahna relaxed again. If the newcomer had been a threat, Kadar would have reacted more strongly to his arrival. But although his posture appeared wary, he didn't appear overly alarmed. She wondered if they knew each other.

Now that the thought had made its way into her mind, it wouldn't leave again. She took a closer look at the Kanashi warrior. Aside from the fact that he was stockier than Kadar and was dressed in a loose-fitting belted tunic with leather pants and boots, he looked surprisingly similar to her companion.

_"Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor,"_ the man said, and Kadar repeated the same sentence back stiffly. The cadence of the words made Ahna think of a greeting.

"Kadar, who is this?"

"This—" Kadar paused, sighed, then said, "This is my younger brother, Nur."

_Oh!_

***

"How long have you been following me?" Kadar asked in Kanashian. The words didn't roll off his tongue easily, and he would have preferred to use Zammarian. But he didn't think Nur would understand the language.

"Do you bring us a Bathan prisoner?" Nur asked, blunt as usual.

"You haven't answered my question," Kadar ground out with a glare.

"Neither have you."

Kadar sighed. He didn't want to deal with the Kanashi right now, and especially not with the most irritating of his siblings. "She is under my protection, Nur. She isn't a prisoner."

Nur perked an eyebrow, not looking convinced the slightest. "What are you doing in Kanashi territory then?"

"We are on a mission for Zammar."

"Zammar. I should have known; it's always about Zammar with you." Nur smirked. "But this time, Zammar will have to wait. I am under orders from __ Kuo Amar to bring you—and your... companion—back to the tribe. Amar will be pleased to make your reacquaintance."

_A dry hell!_ Kadar didn't need this additional delay. "It has been less than a year, Nur," he replied dryly. "I doubt my father has forgotten me in that time."

Nur shrugged. "Father says you should come back to your people. That foreign prince has been keeping you from your rightful place amongst us long after you fulfilled your duty to the Zammarian king."

"I am Zammarian, Nur, not Kanashi. Not anymore. Besides, Amar has no use for me. Nor I him."

Nur tsked in reply and gave him a reproachful look. "We both know this is false. Nothing you say will change that fact."

_Blistering suns, he is irritating._

"How long have you been following us?" Kadar asked again. He'd felt watched ever since the last set of rebel tracks they'd crossed.

"Only a few miles," Nur replied with a shrug. "You leave a trail a man under the effects of desert grass liquor could follow by using that horse."

"It cannot be helped."

"You and the Bathan woman will come with me."

"I don't have time for this, Nur."

Nur shook his head. "Amar wants to speak with you. Now."

_A dry hell._ He had no time to humor his father, but he couldn't avoid it now. "Very well." Kadar sighed in defeat and turned to Ahna. "Ahna, we ride to _kuo-ilk kabe_ tonight," he told her in a mixture of Zammarian and Kanashian. "Please make yourself ready. We leave as soon as we're packed."

"Where are we going?" Ahna asked.

"To _kuo-ilk kabe_ , the first tribe," Kadar translated. "The __ kuo—speaker of the twelve tribes—wants to talk to us."

Thankfully, Ahna accepted his answer without further question. She stood, and with calm efficiency started packing their bedroll and their scant supplies, while Kadar saddled their horse.

Grudgingly, he thanked Nur for helping strike the campsite and douse the fire. In less time than he would have liked, they were mounted on the gelding and on their way to meet with Amar.

***

Ahna sat in silence as they rode, her back pressed to Kadar's chest. In front of them, the smaller man, Nur, rode a squat desert pony. She had to give the hapless beast credit. Despite its small size, it moved fast, sure-footed on the uneven terrain, and didn't seem hindered by a grown man's weight upon its back. The animal, in fact, seemed much more at ease in this environment than their own horse.

Sooner than Ahna anticipated, they crested a hill and looked down upon a Kanashi camp composed of at least twenty round colorful tents loosely organized around a central fire. A few people moved between the tents, but mostly the camp was still and quiet. Sleepy. Like the hour.

Then, distant sounds of women's laughter reached her ears, coming from inside one of the tents. The sheer normalcy of that sound soothed Ahna's frayed nerves. She felt an unexpected pang of homesickness. Maybe it was the fatigue of travel dictating her thoughts, but she didn't feel as concerned as she probably should. After all, she didn't know them, and shouldn't trust their intentions. Nonetheless they were Kadar's people. Surely they would treat him—and by extension, her—well.

Kadar said something in Kanashian to his brother and Nur left their side, guiding his mount down into the camp. He soon disappeared behind a tent situated near the central fire.

"How much do you know about the Kanashi?" Kadar asked after Nur left.

"Not much. We saw very few Kanashi at my father's court, and most of what I know comes from hearsay and my own readings. I know a few words here and there—mostly curses—and that the Kanashi tribes' elders elect their leader. Oh, and also the fact that women are treated more like equals here than anywhere else within Zammar's reach." That last fact, especially, had held her attention when she first learned about the Kanashi.

She felt him nod, and then he spoke. "Women are given most of the same rights and responsibilities as men. It's a necessity born from the nomadic life they lead. Everyone must contribute, even the children. This equality is true for all but the tribes' leader. Kuo Amar will expect your respect," Kadar said. "The conversation will most certainly be held in Kanashian, and I won't have time to translate it for you."

"Thank you for your consideration, but I understand the politics of it." She tried to keep her voice even, but was certain Kadar could hear the unhappiness in her tone. She didn't appreciate being ignored, even if it was for protocol reasons. "Is there anything specific I need to do?"

He shook his head and tightened his arm around her waist, comforting. "There is no need to observe any special protocol, and there are no elaborate greetings, so don't worry about it. You need only stay behind me and keep quiet unless spoken to directly. Let me take care of this."

"I can do that," Ahna replied unenthusiastically. In truth she wasn't sure she could, but she would try.

"It will be difficult for you, I'm sure." Kadar chuckled and nuzzled her ear, showing he didn't mean it harshly. When Ahna finally relaxed, he nudged their mount forward.

They made their way toward a slightly larger tent that sat near the center of the camp. As they approached, heads popped out of several other tents to look at them, their gazes holding a mix of curiosity and wariness. In between a flow of words she didn't understand, Ahna heard Kadar's name being spoken several times. Kadar for his part didn't react to any of it, leading their horse directly to the central tent. Upon reaching their destination, he dismounted and reached for her waist. Ahna wasn't sure why, but she accepted his offered help this time.

Once she stood safely on the ground, Kadar let go of her waist and strode toward the tent's entrance. Without waiting for a summons, Kadar lifted the flap and disappeared inside. After a moment of hesitation, Ahna followed him.

The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside was a small cooking fire burning at the center of the tent, its smoke exiting the roof through a flap designated for this purpose. Around the room, woolen rugs and tasseled cushions added a welcome splash of color. They served as both seating and beds, Ahna realized, but their occupants weren't in the tent at the moment.

_"Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor,"_ Kadar said stiffly to an older man seated regally on a cushion on the floor, as if on a throne.

His words came out stilted and halting, as if he hesitated before speaking. _Kadar doesn't speak the language fluently,_ she understood with a jolt. This came as a complete surprise to her. She knew he had spent most of his life in Zammar, but had expected him to know more of his native language than he appeared to.

_"Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor,"_ replied the man sitting in front of the fire. With a wave of his hand, he invited them to sit down. Ahna wasn't sure where. She didn't want to sit on someone's bed. That just seemed rude. She was about to inquire about it out loud in spite of Kadar's instructions when Kadar pointed to a pile of blankets and pillows, indicating she should sit. Once she did, he joined her on the bedding.

Kadar leaned toward her ear and whispered, "This is a community tent used by all whenever there is a need. The man in front of us is Kuo Amar, the Tribe's chieftain and current leader of the Kanashi."

Ahna knew enough about the Kanashi's political structure to guess the kuo was a king of sort, although he acted far more relaxed than her father ever did. When she silently nodded her understanding, Kadar turned his attention back to Amar. As they spoke, their foreign words forming a backdrop to her thoughts, Ahna openly assessed the Kanashi leader. From what she could see in the low light of the fire, he was dressed like Nur in linen, leather pants and boots. He was much older, his gray beard and craggy face giving him the look of a sage. However, the shrewd gleam in eyes—the same startling blue eyes as Kadar—cautioned her against any notion that he was as harmless as his appearance made him seem.

Kuo Amar's keen gaze fell on her during a lull in his conversation with Kadar, and Ahna felt herself flush, knowing that her staring was certainly a breach of protocol. But Kuo Amar didn't appear offended by her frank appraisal, and even smiled at her, looking amused. As he did, the geometric design tattooed on his left cheek—three horizontal bars stacked on top of each other and topped with two small triangles—almost disappeared in the creases of his burnished skin.

" _Bana tan-ray_ , Ahnanti."

Ahna's attention snapped back to the conversation at the mention of her name. She fixed her gaze on Kadar with a frown, trying to figure out what they were discussing.

***

"I expected you several months ago." Amar gave Kadar a chiding look, and Kadar's hackles were immediately raised.

Typical. First Nur, and now Amar, completely ignored him when he spoke. Kadar suppressed a sigh. When would his father realize he held no allegiance to him? He belonged by Jalen's side and not out wandering the desert. Amar had made that choice for him long ago. "My presence was required at the palace, _Father_." He said the word even though it burned his tongue. Amar hadn't been a father to him for a very long time. Longer than he cared to remember.

"You have fulfilled our part of the treaty, son. Now, your place is here learning how to lead your people."

"They are not my people. And Nur is the only reason I am here right now."

His father smiled benignly, only the glint in his eyes hinting at more. "Fortunate that he found you, then, and with the Bathan princess in tow. How did you come across such a useful resource?"

"She is not a resource to be bargained for," Kadar ground out, irritated that Amar knew of Ahnanti. He'd hoped to keep her lineage from him.

"Yet she is in your possession." Amar smiled.

Kadar gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "I don't _own_ her. I am escorting her to her next destination. We are companions for the duration of the journey."

"Companions?" Amar asked.

The look of interest in his father's eyes sparked deep suspicion in Kadar, and his heart sank. He'd said something wrong. He was sure of it.

"Are you sharing a tent?" Amar pressed on.

Kadar couldn't figure out where his father was going with this line of questioning. Political games were not his forte. _Blistering suns!_ He racked his brain for an answer, preferably a clever one. Something Jalen would say to deflect attention.

When he failed to respond, Amar continued, "No? Perhaps she would share my tent in that case."

"You can't do that. You are already married," Kadar snapped.

"To only one woman," Amar replied with a smile.

Kadar's anger boiled under the surface. "Who happens to be your second wife."

"Ah, a first wife, in truth, as your mother walks the endless desert without me and I am free to take another."

He could see it clearly now. His father planned to use a loophole in tribe law permitting him to take a third wife since his first no longer lived. This was unacceptable.

"She's too young for you," Kadar tried again, frustration tinging his voice.

"But not too young for you," Amar retorted at once.

This conversation was going nowhere. "Send her to rest. We've had a long day avoiding the Bathan rebels and she is tired."

"Should she be placed with you or amongst the other young women?"

_Pissing viper._ What kind of trap was this? Was it a simple question as to where she should sleep, or was there more to the question? Some failure in translation from Kanashian to Zammarian that he was not seeing. When he answered, he hoped to have chosen the right option. "She shares my tent."

"Very good," Amar replied with twinkling eyes. "An alliance with Bathu will give us the strength needed to survive."

"Wait," Kadar interrupted, concern blooming in his mind. He felt the trap closing around him with a snap.

"A Kanashi prince does not have casual dalliances. Either she becomes my wife or yours," Amar said. "You readily admitted she shares your bed. I yield to your prior claim, but claim her you will."

_A dry hell!_ Kadar turned to look at Ahna, gauging her expression. How much had she understood? When she returned his look with one of her own, quirking an eyebrow in silent inquiry, he knew she was still oblivious. He was certain she would have protested otherwise. Returning his gaze to Amar, Kadar spoke through his clenched teeth. "Please send her away for the night so that she may rest and we may discuss this foolish idea at leisure."

Amar inclined his head. "Fatin?" he called over his shoulder.

Kadar felt Ahna start. She must not have noticed Amar's second wife observing the scene from a respectful distance. When Fatin drew near, Kadar greeted her with a slight nod of his head.

"Find out if my son's tent has been prepared, and then escort our guest to his quarters."

"It will be done," Fatin replied and beckoned Ahna to her.

Ahna stiffened beside Kadar.

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Go with Fatin. A tent has been made ready for us to rest. I won't be much longer. I have some business to attend to yet."

She stood, and with unease in her eyes she followed Fatin out of the tent and into the night.

***

Ahna followed after the woman Kadar had called Fatin. Looking only a few years older than Kadar, Fatin wore a long tunic trimmed in leather and loose salwar pants that left her movements free of constraint. Ahna immediately envied her her freedom of movement. The dirty wool robes she still wore were stifling and impractical in comparison.

"You come with me. Prepare for night," Fatin told her in broken and heavily accented Zammarian.

"You speak Zammarian?" Ahna's own grasp of the language had been honed by years of private tutoring, but she still strained to understand her companion.

Fatin waved her hand up and down. "A little. I try to learn, but language very hard."

Ahna closed the gap between them, falling into step beside the shorter woman. Finally, someone would tell her what in the name of the thousand spirits was going on. She'd not known Kadar very long, but even so she had no trouble realizing something was upsetting him deeply. He'd appeared close to losing his temper—something she didn't think was possible considering how calm he always acted—when she'd been ordered out of the tent.

"What were they discussing back there?" She gestured back toward the chieftain's tent.

Fatin shrugged and shook her head, looking uncomfortable. Ahna waited, and still her companion didn't respond. She began to think no answer would be forthcoming. Maybe the question was simply too difficult for Fatin to answer using her very basic knowledge of Zammarian. Finally, after Ahna had given up hope for an explanation, Fatin spoke again.

"Big men. Bigger words. Always so serious." Again, she shook her head and sigh. "They not see each other much. Kadar always so angry at his father. Much anger every time. Old anger."

By then, they had almost reached a richly decorated round canvas tent, barely smaller than the communal tent she'd just left. When she heard the word "father", Ahna stopped dead in her tracks to stare at Fatin. Had she understood right? _Father?_ As in father and son?

"Wait, Amar is Kadar's _father_?"

Kadar was—for lack of a better word—a prince?

Fatin smiled—beamed even. "Yes, yes. First son of kuo."

"But..."

Ahna's mind was going in circles. She knew Kadar had been a prisoner of war at one point; he had confirmed as much. He must have been quite young at the time, considering that the last war pitting Zammar against the Kanashi tribes had taken place thirty years prior. But all that was a long time ago, and as far as she could tell, Kadar was now a free man. So, why choose Zammar over the Kanashi, she wondered not for the first time. Especially considering his position amongst his own people.

Fatin appeared to understand Ahna's confusion, for she shrugged and waved her hands again. "Hard story. Much hard for kuo now. Much anger for a long time with son. Fatin is sad kuo is sad."

The broken explanation left Ahna even more confused, but when she opened her mouth to ask a question, Fatin immediately interrupted her with a sharp, "I speak enough." She then gave Ahna a sheepish smile. "Kuo says nothing to be done about it."

Fatin gestured for Ahna to precede her inside the tent. Although she wished she could push the issue, Ahna knew a polite dismissal when she heard one. She would need to ask Kadar for the details, but she already knew that getting anything out of him would be akin to a miracle.

Still... _Kadar, a prince!_ Not that his lack of noble blood had ever bothered her—it did not change the fact he was noble, courageous, loyal... and that she cared more about him than she perhaps should—but this knowledge still left her reeling.

What a conundrum. She wished she knew what he was discussing with the old chieftain—his father. They had uttered her name several times with growing agitation. She had a bad feeling about it. She hadn't expected to be recognized so easily while wearing dirty clothes and riding in the middle of the desert with, as her only escort, a Zammarian soldier. For once in her life, she wished she could consult with her father's head of diplomacy. He spoke several languages fluently—including Kanashian—and had extensive knowledge of cultures far and wide. She regretted not having paid more attention to his lessons as a young girl.

Fatin touched her elbow, bringing her back to the present. Once she'd gotten Ahna's attention, she pointed to a pile of colorful cushions and blankets set toward the back of the tent. "You sleep here. Quiet. No one to disturb."

"What about Kadar?" Ahna asked, not wishing to be separated from the only person she knew and who spoke the language.

"He comes. Later." She gestured to the pile again. "You rest now. I come back in the morning." With a small bob of her head, Fatin turned and left Ahna alone in the tent.

For a moment, Ahna entertained the idea of slipping back outside to explore the camp, but her lack of familiarity with the culture and language, plus her state of exhaustion, made her think twice about it. And that pile of cushions looked so inviting... There was no harm in sleeping for a while. Nothing good would come of her pushing herself without rest for too long.

***

Once Ahna had left the tent, Kadar sat back and stared at Amar, fighting to control his anger. "Why are you doing this?"

"An alliance with Bathu is almost as good as an alliance with Zammar. And since Jameyri never sired a daughter, I will have to settle for a Bathan princess."

"Why?"

"To put it simply?" Amar inquired.

"Yes."

"Resources." Amar paused, running a hand through his beard. When Kadar didn't say anything, he added, "Water."

"The season of rains—"

"—hasn't filled the wells for several years now, and we have to range farther than ever before. Did you not notice the streams are mere trickles? Or that many wells have run dry?"

He _had_ noticed, but he hadn't made much of it until now. "It is the end of the dry season."

"No, Kadar. If you came here more regularly, you would know this is false. We've been experiencing drought since before the last season of rains." Amar looked at him, as if waiting for some acknowledgement. When none came, he went on, "King Siddha may have made a grand show of sending his only daughter to Al'Zafyra, but if he learned she was wed to our family, he would have no choice but to bend to our wishes."

Kadar tried to hide his surprise, but Amar remarked on it nonetheless. "Yes, I know of her journey, just as I know that you are on a mission to Al'Zafyra for that prince you still swear allegiance to. Very little moves through my desert without my knowledge."

"What do you want from me?"

"You will take the princess as your wife." Amar looked at him pointedly. "You are past the time when you can think only of yourself. This is your duty to your people."

Kadar stood to leave, furious at the situation and at Amar's manipulation.

As he stalked to the door, Amar spoke again, stopping Kadar. "The marriage ceremony will be held tomorrow evening. And performed as tradition demands."

Amar couldn't mean— Kadar whipped around, appalled. "Why?! Ahna knows nothing of Kanashi customs. There is no need for such a public display when a simple handfasting behind tent walls would do. You can't do this."

"As a future kuo—"

Kadar snorted derisively. The people would never elect him as kuo. His years of service to Zammar guaranteed it.

"—you owe it to your people. They must bear witness." Amar took a deep breath, obviously struggling for calm. "The people require it."

"A dry hell, Father! Not everything is about the tribes."

Amar shook his head warily. "What do you object to more? The thought of taking Princess Ahnanti as a wife or the _jun'sesesu surkekkon_?"

Both. Neither. He didn't know. Deciding on a different tactic, Kadar tried again. "What about the other tribes' approval? As a potential match for a _kuo-ilk kard-kai_ —a first son—isn't it a requirement for Ahna to first be presented and approved by the other leaders?"

A dip from Amar's chin confirmed Kadar's argument to be accurate.

"This would be true if I hadn't already had the twelve's approval."

Kadar's mouth opened and closed ineffectually. _Pissing viper!_ The tribes had already met and approved this marriage. He had one more chance to dissuade his father, and although it was unlikely to work, Kadar had to try it. "Couples are supposed to spend time together and actually get to know each other before the ceremony. Not get thrown into it without preparation!"

Amar raised an eyebrow and asked, falsely innocent, "Do you mean to say you do not _know_ each other yet?"

"I—" Kadar stopped and cursed expansively. Amar had managed to back him into a corner once more. "Yes, damn your ancestors, we _know_ each other already."

"Then I don't see a problem."

"Ahna isn't a pawn to be used at will. I refuse to go through with the ritual without her express consent. As it stands right now, it would be no better than rape."

Amar watched him gravely. "I understand your objection," he finally said. "I will talk to her and make certain she understands our need and what's expected of her. But the ceremony _will_ take place. This, I command."

Kadar couldn't face Amar anymore. If he stayed, he feared he might strike the old man. Instead he turned away, nodded his head once in acquiescence, pushed the tent flap open, and stormed out.

Once out under the stars, Kadar looked for his horse. He was unwilling to fume in front of Ahna and chose instead to ride until the anger left him. He would return in the morning to explain everything before Amar had a chance talk to her. But not tonight. Tonight his temper made him irrational— _blistering suns!_ A part of him wanted to bury himself into her lush body until they both screamed their release. Take what she'd offered him before and push them both to their limits. He couldn't go to her in such a frenzied state. He would only cause her concern, and he couldn't accept that. The next day would be bad enough for her.

He swung up into the saddle, and with a light touch to the mount's flanks he spurred him forward. He left at a gallop and did not stop until he had left the camp far behind.

#  Chapter 8

Kadar stared at the horizon as it lightened by degrees, appalled to realize he'd brooded all night and was no closer to calm than when he'd left camp, and soon it would be dawn. He really needed to get back to Ahna. And yet he continued to gaze into the distance, deep in thought.

_Blistering suns!_

It was one thing when Kadar ended up the pawn in one of his father's political games, but another entirely for Amar to include Ahna in his plans. It wasn't right.

Unfortunately, he could see the appeal from Amar's perspective. King Siddha may have sent Ahna away as a way to save face, but once she married into the tribes, he would gain some valuable warriors to help fight in his budding civil war. In return, all Siddha needed to do was agree to share some of his water with the Kanashi. It came down to a simple bargain between rulers. Siddha wouldn't refuse. It was too valuable an alliance for a king under threat.

_Damn Amar and his ceaseless plotting._

Kadar ran a hand through his too-long hair, and then chuckled wryly. _Not too long, too short for a Kanashi warrior._ But just long enough to be set in the traditional style for the wedding ceremony.

" _Sesesu_ ," he swore in Kanashian.

How would Ahna react to the news of her impending nuptials? Kadar expected a violent explosion. He couldn't really blame her either. She appeared to have fought hard to keep her independence, to the point of being sent away from court for failing to marry. She wouldn't like learning about last night's discussion and Amar's pronouncement.

Moreover, why was he going along with his father's plans? He could have ridden away last night with Ahna by his side. He snorted softly. As if he could. They were days into Kanashi territory, and they didn't have any hope of keeping their departure a secret. It would only make an already unpleasant situation worse. And then, his honor wouldn't let him slink away like a water thief in the night. Better to agree and use the situation to his advantage.

At least Ahna wouldn't be required to take tribal markings. After his mission to Al'Zafyra, he would help her establish herself anywhere—even take her to the Zammarian palace should she desire it. She need not mention her marriage to him if she so chose, but could call upon it anytime she needed the Kanashi's help.

The thought did give him pause. If she wasn't at his side, there would be questions. A first wife—should he ever be elected kuo—rarely left the security of the tribe. Hopefully, he could deflect the attention with utterances of requiring civilization and creature comforts not afforded here in the desert.

He sighed. He'd made a mess of things, and nothing short of following through would alleviate his problems.

Kicking his mount, Kadar made his way back towards camp. He needed to get back and act as an interpreter for Amar and Ahna's discussion about the ritual. If he hurried he'd have just enough time to explain what happened to Ahna before his father arrived, and maybe plead for her forgiveness.

At the entrance to the camp, Nur awaited him like an ill-tempered harbinger of doom. "Here you are, brother. A bit longer and you would be late to your own wedding," he greeted Kadar with a smirk.

"What do want, Nur?" Kadar swallowed his irritation. He didn't have time for Nur's sarcasm.

"Father isn't happy with you."

"What else is new?"

"No one knew where to find you and the elders are waiting."

Kadar's brows knit in confusion. "The elders? The ceremony isn't before sundown." What could the elders want with him? They weren't usually involved in weddings preparations, coming together only to witness the ceremony itself. He shook his head. It didn't matter, and he went to push past his brother. He had to get to Ahna.

Nur's smirk slipped, and he tapped his fingers to his tattooed temple. "A mere _kard-sukono—_ a boy _—_ can't be wed, dear brother. Time for Amar's wayward son to finally become a man."

Kadar stifled a groan of consternation. The _kard-ruto gish noiki_. The rites of passage from childhood to manhood. He hadn't expected to have to go through them at this time in his life. "Really Nur, I am approaching my fortieth rain season. I am far from being a youth anymore."

His brother shrugged. "No Kanashi warrior becomes a man until he receives the _gish noiki_ marks. Age has little to do with it."

"I am a captain of the Royal Guard. I can't—"

"You need to explain this to Father, not me," Nur cut in. "I am to escort you to the elders."

"—spare the time for the _kard-ruto gish noiki_ right now," he finished despite the interruption. He needed to find Ahna.

Nur started toward the central tent, but then looked back at Kadar. "Maybe I should marry your Bathan princess instead. She needs a true man at her side, and I will say that she is easy on the eye. She would be a pleasure to bed."

Something snapped in Kadar's mind at Nur's baiting. In a few angry strides, he reached his brother's side and grabbed him by the collar of his leather vest. "Don't you dare touch her," he snarled.

"Protective, Kadar?" Nur laughed, a dry and brittle sound. "Funny. I've never seen you lose your calm before. What are you going to do now? Strike your own brother?"

Kadar drew his arm back and fisted his hand, wanting nothing more than to plant it in his younger brother's face.

He should. He really should.

But, at the last moment, he hesitated, then lowered his arm. No. Nur had been spoiling for a fight for years. And with good reason. Kadar wasn't sure why—guilt maybe—but Amar had always favored his older son over his younger ones, and Nur resented Kadar for it.

Kadar let go of Nur's collar and took a step back. "I have no desire to fight you, little brother," he finally said with a sigh. "I need to speak with Ahna first, and then I will meet with the elders."

"No. Now, brother," Nur insisted. "I was told to bring you as soon as you returned."

"Nur, enough," Kadar barked over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "It is imperative I speak with Ahna before the preparations begin."

Nur's hand wrapped around his bicep, pulling him to a stop. "Why?"

Kadar wrenched his arm out from his brother's grip. "Father," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "plans on discussing the Kanashi's needs with Ahna, and he'll require an interpreter. I need to be there." Before he could take another step toward the tent where Ahna slept, Nur burst out laughing. He whipped to face his brother again, a small line forming between his furrowed brows. "What now?"

A hand on his belly, Nur swallowed a guffaw. "Really, Kadar. Do you honestly believe Father doesn't speak Zammarian?"

Perplexed, Kadar replied with a hesitant, "Yes."

"Who do you think leads trade negotiation with Zammar, if not Father? He's the kuo after all—the Speaker for the tribes."

His throat worked, but Kadar didn't have an answer.

Nur's mirth died and he glared at Kadar. "If you were here more often you would know this. No more arguments. The elders have been waiting for you long enough already." And without waiting to see if Kadar followed, Nur marched toward the central tent.

They'd only gone a few steps when a child barreled toward them, calling at the top of his lungs, "Kadar, Kadar! You're back!"

Before he could reach Kadar, Nur grabbed the child by the arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. "Devdan," he scolded. "What are you doing here?"

"Mother said big brother was back," Devdan explained, wriggling like a rabbit caught in a snare.

Nur's grip didn't soften. "Speaking of mothers, you should be helping yours with tonight's preparations."

"It's all right," Kadar said. "Let him go."

Nur huffed but released him, and Devdan ran to Kadar and wrapped his arms around Kadar's waist. Kadar felt a smile pulled at his lips. The youngest of Fatin's children hadn't changed since their last meeting. Still just as demonstrative as ever. He hugged the child back, before kneeling down. "Nur is right, you know. You should go and help your mother."

Devdan pouted for all of a second, but then nodded. "All right," he agreed. "Will you come see me later, then? I am learning to fight, you know." He waved around an invisible sword for a few moments. "Father says you're the best. I want you to teach me to be just like you."

"Later, I will," Kadar answered.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now, go. Your mother is certainly waiting for you."

Devdan grinned widely and ran back towards the women's tent. Nur sighed. "That child needs to learn to be calm," he grumbled.

Kadar shrugged. He watched Devdan disappear inside the tent, before starting towards their destination again. Upon reaching it, Nur swept the tent flap wide open and bowed sardonically.

Kadar nodded and stepped in without another word. In the back of the large tent, five old men either stood or sat on cushions. On one side, a younger man knelt beside a tarp on which rested a series of tools and small containers. On the other side, Amar paced a path between the fire pit and the sleeping area, his expression stormy.

Deciding to test Nur's assertion, Kadar switched to Zammarian before addressing Amar. "Father," he said in lieu of a more formal greeting.

Amar stopped and whipped toward him. "Where were you? You left camp," he replied in the same tongue.

_Blistering suns._ He'd been played a fool by his father this whole time.

Shoving away his irritation at having to explain himself, Kadar replied, "I needed time to think." And distance. He knew Ahna was safe with the tribe for the night. She was far too precious to Amar; the tribe would not think of hurting her while he wasn't there to look after her. _Not that she needs looking after,_ he thought with a wry snort.

"You should have been here an hour ago."

"Father, I am six and thirty and an officer in Zammar's army. No one would ever think to arguing against my prowess as a warrior. Is this truly necessary?" With his hand, he encompassed the tent, the elders and the tattoo artist waiting for him.

"No warrior of the Kanashi—and no son of mine—will be without the _kard-ruto gish noiki._ It's is time you accepted your heritage. Come. Sit. There is much to be done before tonight's wedding."

With that said, Amar walked out of the tent before Kadar could protest any further. Kadar gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. _A dry hell_. The old fox knew quite well that he had backed his son into a corner. In one night, Amar had managed to get Kadar to agree to the one thing he had always refused: take his place amongst the tribe. If he left now, Ahna would end up married to Amar, or possibly Nur. This was not an acceptable outcome, neither for Ahna nor himself.

Kadar looked to the elders, who stood like a flock of old crows in the back of the tent, then to the tattooist waiting for him, and he sighed. Finally, he sat on the ritual mat set down for him, and crossed his legs. " _Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor._ "

" _Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor,_ Kadar" the man replied.

He huffed in irritation. "Let's get this over with."

The man nodded and pulled his tools closer. "I've seen prisoners sounding more enthusiastic at the idea of their death," the man remarked as he took a long and thin metal needle and eyed it carefully. Appearing to be satisfied by what he saw, he joked, "Keep still or you might end up with the wrong mark."

***

The sound of women's voices whispering close to her woke Ahna. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was. The palace? No, she'd been traveling with Kadar, dodging Bathan rebels while making their way to Al'Zafyra. That is, until the appearance of the Kanashi warrior at their camp the night before.

She opened her eyes and looked around her. In the early morning light, the tent she'd slept in was a riot of textures and colors unlike anything she'd seen in Bathu. The effect was one of opulence and welcoming warmth, so different from the stone fortress where she'd lived all her life. She could come to like these people, Ahna thought with a sleepy smile.

"You are awake!" the woman who had escorted her the night before exclaimed.

Ahna racked her mind for the woman's name, before finally remembering. Fatin, the chief's wife. At the moment, she stood to one side of the tent with two older women. It was their hushed whispers which had awoken her. Ahna yawned and stretched before she answered, "Good morning."

With a wave of her hand, Fatin sent the other two women to the center of the tent where a wooden tub full of water waited, before smiling at Ahna. "Just in time. Much to do today." She nodded to herself in a way that made Ahna slightly nervous. "Much to do," Fatin repeated eagerly. "Come, come. The bath is ready."

A bath? In the middle of the desert during a period of drought? Ahna didn't know much about Kanashi customs, but the thought of a bath being drawn just for her struck her as highly unusual. Princess of not, she didn't need any special consideration, and she feared that bath would stretch the tribe's resources a great deal. "A bath? It really isn't necessary," she said.

"Oh, yes. Necessary for the ritual. You need clean first."

_Ritual?_ Before Ahna could ask about it, Fatin took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "After bath, time to eat and then prepare." She gave Ahna a head-to-toes look, then smiled again. "You are very tall. You will do well with _jun'sesesu surkekkon_. Kadar very lucky." She giggled like a young girl, seeming to find the thought funny for some reason.

"Jun—" Ahna stumbled upon the words, unsure of their pronunciation.

" _Jun'sesesu surkekkon_ ," Fatin corrected her gently. "Big ritual. Everyone in the tribe very happy. Big celebration tonight for Kadar and for you."

Fatin led her to the water basin, where the two other women waited for them. At once, they grabbed at her clothes and started undressing her. Already used to the ways of courtly attendants, Ahna didn't even think to protest until she was already naked and being helped into the water. She took a moment to appreciate the floral scent of the fragrant oils that had been sprinkled into warm water.

Then, she looked back at the three women. "What are we celebrating?"

"Kadar returned to tribe. New beginning now with Princess Ahnanti." Fatin frowned, shrugging in apology. "I don't know all correct words, but everyone happy."

Speaking of Kadar... "Where is he? Where is Kadar?"

"Kadar with Amar and elders now. Much to do today, yes. Kadar will become man. Proud Kanashi warrior. You see him tonight."

Fatin's explanation only made Ahna more confused. A man? Kadar was definitely no boy—she could vouch for this—but perhaps this was a failing of translation on the woman's part.

"Now, we stop talking. Time to wash." Fatin turned to the two other women and said a few sentences in her own language—orders by the sound of it.

Then, she turned back to Ahna, her expression softening. Ahna once again had the uneasy feeling she was missing something important. "Everything be fine," Fatin said to her. "You see. I know you do well with _jun'sesesu surkekkon._ Like me." She patted Ahna's shoulder in a way that reminded Ahna of her mother, despite the woman being barely older than Kadar.

Ahna opened her mouth to ask a question, but at that moment a clay pot of water was upended over her head from behind. She sputtered in surprised and turned her head to glare at the two attending women behind her. The woman holding the now empty clay pot smiled sheepishly. The other woman held in one hand a bone comb, and in the other a glass vial containing, Ahna guessed, oil for her hair. She looked ready to use both.

The woman with the clay pot said something Ahna didn't understand, and pointed at her head. Then, without another word, they both went to work. Hair, face, body, Ahna endured their thorough ministrations without a peep of protest, too confused to argue. Fatin stayed nearby, overseeing the task, and once satisfied, she nodded and, with a few short words, sent the two other women away.

Returning to Ahna's side, Fatin presented her with a long white garment, something between a dress and a robe, and helped her put it on after Ahna left the tub. "Now, eat. You need to stay strong for tonight," she said as she gestured to the food placed on the floor on a large rug. "After, we prepare you."

Questions burned on her tongue, but Ahna suppressed them long enough to sit down and sample the offerings, cognizant of the need to be polite to her hosts. As soon as she did, a younger girl—one who looked like a younger version of Fatin, a daughter maybe?—slid inside the tent, ready to serve them food and replenish their drink as necessary.

Ahna took a bite of the peeled orange she was offered—a true treat so far from the sea and the major cities—and turned to Fatin once more. "Now, I want some explanations. Why am I being pampered like... like a princess? I want to talk to Kadar." Kadar would have the explanations she so craved.

Fatin, however, shook her head at the demand. "You see Kadar tonight," she said as she had earlier. "You cannot see now. Not time yet."

"Why? Why can't I see him now?"

Fatin smiled, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "I know you want him, but it is not done before _jun'sesesu surkekkon."_

That Kanashi expression again. There definitely was something Ahna wasn't quite understanding. "What does it mean? It's not _just_ a welcome ceremony, is it?"

"Oh, no," Fatin said emphatically. Then, she frowned, perhaps grappling with Zammarian vocabulary for the right words. "Marriage ritual," she finally said with a big smile.

"Marriage? Who's getting married?"

"Kadar, of course. __ Kuo __ Amar is very happy."

Ahna felt color drain from her face. Kadar was getting married? He'd told her nothing of this. And she'd slept with him, thinking he was uninvolved. If she'd known a Kanashi girl was waiting for him at home, she never would have approached him in that way. Furthermore, she felt betrayed. Angry. She struggled to keep the mortification from her face. None of this was Fatin's fault. Kadar on the other hand, would hear about it as soon she could get her hands on him.

"Oh. That's... nice," she said, pleased that her voice sounded calmer than she felt. "Who is he marrying?"

It was Fatin's turn to look confused. "You," she said.

"Wait— _what_?!"

"Fatin, _n'na,_ " Amar snapped from the tent's entrance. Fatin looked down at once and nodded to her husband, falling silent.

His arrival interrupted Ahna's dismayed objection before she'd quite formulated it. She clutched the edges of her robe tighter around her shoulders and watched Kadar's father with wariness.

Turning his attention to Ahna, Amar said, " _Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor,_ Princess Ahnanti."

Recognizing the words for what they were, a greeting, Ahna inclined her head slightly. "Kuo Amar." She would keep her temper under wraps—for the moment at least.

Amar acknowledged the greeting with an inclination of his head and a knowing smile. "Please, continue your meal and we can speak while you eat," he continued in flawless Zammarian. "May I sit?"

Ahna's mouth fell open in surprise. Kadar had led her to believe Kuo Amar knew nothing of the country's dominant language. But, he clearly knew Zammarian a lot better than his wife. His presence in the women's tent also told her he must have an agenda, most probably to do with the day's happenings.

"What's going on? Your wife said Kadar was getting married." She gave Amar a pointed look. "To me."

Amar didn't answer directly. Instead, he said, "It is... fortuitous that my son came to your rescue when he did."

"Why?"

"It saved me the trouble of having you intercepted myself."

Ahna's heart sank. First the rebels, and now the Kanashi. What did they want with her? When she spoke again, her tone was clipped. "Why?"

"It is no secret you were sent to Al'Zafyra against your will."

Ahna nodded grudgingly.

"I would like to offer you another solution," Amar said after a short silence.

"Another solution?"

"An alliance. Before I learned of your departure from your father's court, I had thought of dispatching an envoy to Bathu. I had hoped your father would rule in our favor."

"An alliance? Maybe, but his position isn't a strong one. I doubt he'd be ready to get involved outside his borders right now."

Amar nodded. "The rebels," he said, confirming he knew about the unrest brewing in Bathu.

"Yes."

"Your departure proved to be another opportunity. If my warriors could protect you from the rebels I knew infested the road leading to Al'Zafyra, your father would need to at least listen to our grievances."

"But Kadar found me first."

"So he did," Amar said with a smile. "A most auspicious encounter. Better than anything I could have planned, if I say so myself."

Ahna furrowed her brows. "And so we finally come to the point," she said, daring him to continue.

The wedding Fatin had mentioned. Ahna's anger resurfaced at the thought. For years she'd fought against her father's will, refusing to be used in some political game of his, only to find herself at the mercy of the Kanashi and married against her wishes. She'd have thought Kadar a better man than to entrap her this way.

"I can see your anger," Amar said. "And I understand it. But hear me out. Your marriage to my oldest son will strengthen your father's position—the might of the Kanashi in battle is well known. Also, this alliance might be my people's only chance of survival."

"Explain."

"We need water," he replied. "The season of rains isn't enough anymore. Our wells and oases are running dry one by one. This drought is crippling us, but Bathu has water in abundance. In exchange, we will offer our blades in protection against Bathu's enemies."

"The rebels."

"And Qatna."

By aiding Zammar in their latest campaign against Qatna's armies, the Bathans had left themselves open to retaliation. Ahna could see the logic of the old kuo's arguments. Her father would not refuse an alliance with the Kanashi if it allowed him to keep his crown.

"And will the tribes follow your lead?" If she understood the Kanashi's power structure correctly, Amar couldn't unilaterally decide on the tribes' involvement in military campaigns unless all chiefs agreed to it.

Amar smiled, appearing pleased with her question. "I have their approval."

He had been planning this for a while, it would seem.

"And Kadar has accepted this? This plan of yours. Is this why he rescued me?" Ahna asked, not quite able to keep the hurt and sense of betrayal from her tone.

Amar shook his head. "I told him of my plan last evening." He smiled slightly. "He did need some... convincing, but he agreed, albeit reluctantly. He will do what he must for his people."

"So... Kadar didn't know of this when he rescued me?"

"Hardly."

It was a relief to learn Kadar hadn't been plotting with his father all along, and it made her look at the leader of the Kanashi with equal parts wariness and admiration. Not many people could manage the feat of making Kadar do something he didn't want to do.

"And what if I refuse?"

"I believe you will choose wisely. For your country. And for yourself."

Ahna scowled at him. She didn't appreciate that he presumed to know her mind better than she did. She'd had enough of her father trying to manipulate her in such a way.

"For myself," she repeated, her tone flat. Unconvinced.

"With marriage comes independence from your father's whims," Amar replied, deadpan. "If you are under your husband's protection, your father can't order you around anymore. And truly, would marrying my son be that bad?"

Kadar wasn't someone her father would have chosen. He wasn't a prince in the Bathan or Zammarian sense of the term. Worse yet, in her father's mind, he held the position of a simple captain—even if it was in Prince Jalen of Zammar's personal guard. A man without royal blood or personal ambition would be King Siddah's verdict.

Still... marrying Kadar wouldn't really be that bad.

"It is still better than ending your life at Al'Zafyra, is it not?"

"Hmm," she said noncommittally.

Amar accepted a cup of steaming sweet tea from the young woman still hovering close to them. "Thank you, Ziya," he said. She nodded and smiled at him before stepping back again. "My oldest daughter," Amar noted with some pride, and nodded at Ziya.

He took a sip and waited, watching Ahna with his shrewd eyes. Ahna sat quietly, deep in thought. It seemed that, no matter what she chose, she would still end up someone's pawn—either as a supplicant to Al'Zafyra or as a political figurehead.

The silence dragged between them, as she struggled to make up her mind. Finally, Amar spoke again, his tone almost pleading. "It is not a bad match. It's clear my son favors you, and he is a strong warrior, with a clear and level head. Everything a Kanashi woman would want in a mate. What say you?"

She was out of reasons to refuse. The truth was, Ahna felt compassion for the plight of the Kanashi, knowing how dependent desert people were on water. Moreover, such a marriage would allow her to escape her father's influence. Without it, even if she were to leave Al'Zafyra—as Kadar had promised he'd help her do—she would spend her life dodging her father's men. Once married, she would be safe. Well, safer, and if not totally free, then at least free of her father's influence. As for the rest, she could learn to live with Kadar, she knew. She could do a lot worse in that regard.

"All right," she finally said. "I'll do it."

Amar's smile transformed his face from grim to delighted. "It will be a great match."

Ahna nodded without a word, still stunned by the fact she'd soon be wedded. This hadn't been part of her plans.

"Good," Amar said, getting back to his feet with only the slightest grunt in spite of his age. "Now, I'll leave you to Fatin's knowing hands and will see you again tonight for _jun'sesesu surkekkon_."

He made his way toward the exit, but Ahna stood and stopped him before he could leave the tent. "Wait... just one more question, if you will. What is _jun'sesesu surkekkon_?" She half-remembered hearing about the public aspect of the Kanashi wedding ceremony, but didn't know if her recollections were accurate.

Glancing down at her hand, he replied, "It is the Ritual of Mating. You'd call it a wedding ceremony."

"And what should I expect?"

Amar appeared to think for a moment, as if to weigh how much he should say. "Our women are competent warriors, and they wouldn't think of marrying a man not their equal. I heard that you know your way around a sword as well."

Ahna nodded.

"Good. Tonight during the ritual, you will duel with my son and then, should Kadar win, consummate the pairing."

She gulped, her palms suddenly growing moist, her heart beating madly. It was as she remembered. The ritual was to be carried out in front of the whole tribe. All of it. Including the consummation of the union—a time-honored tradition confirming the vitality of the new couple. She wasn't sure she could go through with it.

Amar must have noticed her uneasiness, for he reached out to pat her hand still clutching his sleeve, and said, "You will do fine."

"And what if I win?"

"In that case, you may choose to accept him or decline," he answered with a wry smile. "Most of our women wouldn't choose a man who can't fight and win. I'm not worried, though. I trust Kadar will make our tribe proud."

#  Chapter 9

Murmurs from the crowd announced Ahna's arrival on the ritual ground. Kadar took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, before looking at the woman standing on the other side of the dueling circle. Ahnanti of Bathu. Ahna. Soon to be his wife, if his ancestors allowed. In one hungry gaze, he took in her lithe body. The ceremonial garments she wore accentuated the toned muscles of her arms and legs and gave him fleeting glimpses of her skin. The stylized leather armor was designed more to tantalize than to provide adequate coverage for the mock battle to come. Wearing it, she looked stunning.

Forcing his muscles to relax, he watched her take in his appearance. Like her, he wore the ceremonial leather armor. Her eyes traveled up his leather clad legs and over his breastplate, until she met his gaze. Ahna's eyes widened. He presumed she had just noticed the brand new warrior's tattoo on his upper cheek. Now, both the Zammar sun and his tribe's brand were forever etched into his skin. Kadar suppressed a snort. Who would have thought he'd ever take the mark of his father's _kuo-ilk kabe_? Certainly not him. But now that he had, it felt right somehow. Like coming back to a home he hadn't realized he missed.

And then he saw the matching mark on Ahna's cheek and temple, and his heart skipped a beat. But no. Hers was not a tattoo; it was only paint that would be washed away after tonight. After the ceremony, she would be given the option of making it permanent. Cursing softly, he chastised himself. She couldn't take his mark, not if she ever wished to be free of him. No matter how much he would like seeing it etched on her skin, declaring to the world that she was his. The thought brought him up short. Where had it come from? He shouldn't be thinking of Ahna as his. She wasn't.

As they observed each other in silence, he tried to gauge her current mood, but her expression gave him nothing.

_Blistering suns!_ He wished he knew what she was thinking. He had intended to explain the situation to her before it came to this point—to try to soften the blow—but time had conspired against him and now it was too late. The ritual was about to start.

A quick glance around the symbolic ring informed Kadar that the entire tribe except for the children, were already gathered to witness their pairing. The Kanashi rarely withheld the activities of life and death from their youth, but they did not need to witness the _jun'sesesu surkekkon_. The ceremony tended to become intense and quite... graphic. It was best if they were not present. In fact, the oldest of the tribe's children had already moved their younger peers to the edge of the camp for a night spent under the stars. And more importantly, away from the festivities.

Breathing deep, Kadar forced his thoughts away from the crowd and focused on his father, who stood at the head of the circle with the rest of the tribe's elders. Their eyes met and Kadar gritted his teeth. Amar watched Kadar's every move, probably checking for signs of hesitation on his part. Kadar would show him none. He would do this right—for Ahna. And once this ordeal was over, he would apologize.

If only there was another way. As a common soldier, Kadar was accustomed to close quarters from a life spent in military camps and barracks. The lack of privacy no longer bothered him. And the women who trailed the army—be they spouses or women of negotiated affection—were also used to it. Ahna on the other hand... wasn't. _A dry hell!_ At this instant, he hated his father with a passion for forcing her to perform in public.

Kadar rolled his shoulders and struggled to keep calm. Movement caught his eye, and he snapped out of his brooding just as Amar strode to the center of the ring. "This warrior, my son Kadar, has claimed this woman, Ahnanti of Bathu, as his mate," he announced in a booming voice to those assembled for the ritual. His pronouncement was met with whispered comments from the crowd. He smiled. "I am happy to give my blessing to their union," he continued.

He better be, the scheming old fox.

Amar walked to Ahna and handed her a small jeweled dagger. She took it from him and tested the blade. It must have nicked her, for she sucked at the pad of her thumb and looked at Kadar questioningly. Kadar smiled back encouragingly, but wished he could do more to reassure her.

"And so, here we are to witness their pairing. May their contest of will please the ancestors." Amar handed Kadar the second ritual dagger, and after a nod to the both of them, he stepped out of the ring. "Begin!"

Kadar rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet.

Ahna dropped into a crouch, dagger at the ready.

Murmurs of approval traveled through the crowd gathered to watch. Ahna's eyes flicked away from his and he used that moment of distraction to make his move. He caught her wrist, immobilizing the arm holding the knife, and twisted it behind her back so her breasts ended up pressed against his chest.

He plucked the knife from her hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Don't pay them any attention. I am your opponent. Not them." He punctuated his words by licking the shell of her ear, and nipped at her earlobe. Ahna's breathing hitched, and Kadar felt her shiver. He tugged on her arm, pulling her backward, and brought the flat of the blade up to the hollow of her throat. When she froze, he slowly dragged it down to her leather breastplate. "I look forward to winning."

He released her and handed her back the blade. Ahna immediately jumped clear of his grasp, dropping back into a fighting stance. Kadar nodded in approval. Her eyes held fire; a challenge—it appeared she was ready.

They stood still as salt statues, taking each other's measure for several long moments, and the tribe began to mutter amongst themselves. It took a snide remark from Nur to get Kadar's feet moving.

Carefully, he stepped to the side, forcing Ahna to counter him and move in the other direction. She kept the movement small, just enough to stay out of his reach. Careful, wasn't she? But she couldn't stay on the defensive forever. Kadar took another step forward with his dagger extended, forcing her to step back again.

Moving with a patience he didn't quite feel, he guided her closer to the edge of the ring. When her heel bumped one of the stones delineating it, she frowned and glanced down. He lunged, and she thrust her dagger forward in a desperate bid to keep him away.

Kadar caught her blade arm and yanked it above her head. The motion unbalanced her, and she stumbled closer. He snaked his free arm around her waist, holding her tight. "Is that the best you can do, girl?" he growled teasingly. He dipped his head to the base of her neck and kissed a trail up to the hollow of her ear, making her squirm in his grip. There, he took a moment to breathe in her scent. The smell of night-blooming cereus, sweet and fragrant, clung to her skin even though she'd bathed. A hint of the desert-grass perfume so common amongst Kanashi women now blended with it—a gift from Fatin, no doubt. The combination was heady, bewitching. Kadar felt himself harden, and he couldn't wait to have her under him again.

After one last kiss at her temple, he released her. Ahna shook off his advance and pointed her dagger at him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you 'baaa' means no?" she taunted.

Kadar gave her a confused look, until the insult registered. "Did you just imply I've had sex with a goat?"

She grinned back ferociously.

Kadar huffed and had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. "And yet, I didn't hear you complain the other night, goat princess."

Her grin evaporated, and she glared at him instead. For a moment, Kadar wondered if he'd gone a too far in using the derogatory nickname.

"Touche," she finally said with a slight bow, and then lunged at him.

Her blade slid across his forearm brace as he easily danced out of her way. Her move had been a clumsy one, too clumsy considering her skills with a blade. He grabbed her forearm as she was about to step back and put pressure on her wrist until Ahna had no choice but to relinquish her weapon. He barely registered the thud as it landed at their feet.

"What are you doing? You aren't even trying to win," he whispered angrily.

"What if I don't _want_ to win?" she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Her words coursed through his veins like molten fire. She couldn't mean— "You will be tied to me forever if you lose."

"There are worse fates."

He spun her around and pinned both of her hands behind her, pulling her back against his chest. Gently, he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face towards his. As their lips met, Ahna groaned into his mouth and opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss. Trailing his knife down her neck, he reached the ties of her breastplate, severing them, and gravity did the rest.

"Kadar," she hissed, tensing.

Keeping the blade's edge well away, he cupped one breast in his hand and pinched her nipple hard enough that she gasped in shock. "Shhh," he soothed softy, continuing to roll it between his thumb and forefinger until it was nicely pink and erect.

"Kadar, please."

"Hmm?"

"Your people are watching."

Kadar's blood turned to ice. Didn't she know this already? He had been certain she had been instructed on the ritual before the start of it. She had seemed to understand the rules. But if she didn't— "Yes," he agreed carefully, stilling his hand. "They are here to witness that we are compatible. Didn't Amar tell you?"

She twitched in an attempt to shrug. "Well, yes," she admitted. "He explained about the tribes' water shortage and their need of an alliance with Bathu. I agreed."

"That's not what I meant," Kadar replied. "The ritual—"

This time, her silence lasted longer. "I know about the... sex," she finally said. "But all those people watching..." She trailed off.

He relaxed at the realization that she was embarrassed by their audience. He had expected as much, and it was a relief to know his father hadn't lied about informing her. He moved his hand to her other breast. "Don't look at them. Don't even think about them. Your attention should be on me only." He pinched her nipple hard, and she bucked against him. He smiled into her hair. "And I'll make sure that it stays on me."

He whipped her around to face him, and captured her mouth in another passionate kiss. Ahna tensed, started to struggle, then melted against him with a muffled moan. Just the reaction he had hoped for. He reached blindly for one of her arm braces and worked the knots loose. When it fell to the ground, she pulled away sharply and snapped at him, "You're not being fair!"

Kadar quirked an eyebrow.

"Why should I end up naked for everyone to see while you stay clothed?"

"Nothing is stopping you from doing the same to me." He flashed her a grin he knew would incense her. "I gave you several chances, after all."

Ahna opened her mouth in a scandalized, "Oh," and gave him a glare that could have melted steel. "Who says _I_ _want_ to see you naked?"

"You certainly didn't seem to mind before." He let his eyes roam over her, lingering over her shapely breasts. "Are you ready to truly fight me now?" he finally asked. "Or are you giving up already?"

Ahna huffed. "I'm not giving up."

"Good."

Kadar stooped and retrieved her dagger at their feet. Ahna snatched it away from his hand and danced away. This time, before Kadar had the opportunity to get into position, she attacked. He brought his blade up at the last second to parry her thrust, and they engaged in earnest. Gone was Ahna's earlier hesitation. This time, she was fighting for keeps.

_That's it, girl. Fight me. Really fight me,_ Kadar thought as he stepped back once, then again, to avoid her blade. The appreciative murmurs of the tribe teased at him over the sounds of metal clashing. He smiled savagely. Now the tribe would know Ahna was worthy of becoming his wife, that he was worthy to become her husband. In the end though, he had no doubt he would win. Her surrender would be all the sweeter.

Ahna attacked again. Kadar dodged, then parried her counter-attack. She appeared to lose her balance, and he dove into her wide-open left side. He didn't see the trap until it was too late for him to pull back. With a twist of her hips, she closed the distance between them, and slid her dagger between the ties of his breastplate. A sharp yank and it came apart. The piece of armor slid sideways on his chest and hips, and he had no choice but to get rid of it so it wouldn't hamper his movements.

Ahna grinned.

Kadar saluted back smartly.

They circled each other slowly, each observing the other with a mixture of wariness and eagerness. Their fight was coming to an end, he felt, and perhaps she sensed he same thing. She lunged at him, and he raised his forearm to block her thrust. Her blade slid off the edge of his bracer, and Kadar felt it slice into his skin, near his elbow. Blood pearled from the wound, but the pain barely registered.

Ahna froze at the sight, her weapon arm dropping down to her side. She looked horrified. _Tactical mistake,_ Kadar thought in triumph, and didn't hesitate to take advantage of it.

Dropping into a squat, he swept her legs out from under her. She landed on her back with a startled gasp, eyes wide as she stared up at him. Her dagger landed with a dull thud nearby. Kadar pounced, pinning her to the ground before she could catch her breath and roll away.

She struggled underneath his weight, not ready to give up the fight. Eventually, though, her movements became erratic and fatigue took hold. She gave up when it became obvious she was well and truly trapped. Then her gaze found his injury. "You're bleeding."

Kadar wiped the blood away from his arm. Rubbing his fingers together, he studied his hand. "I've had worse. Much worse."

He brought the blade of his dagger between the tie of her skirt and the skin of her hip. In one sharp flick of his wrist, he cut through the knot and the skirt fell away. Ahna grew completely still underneath him, her gaze searching his.

"It seems to me that you've lost," he said loud enough for all to hear, even if most wouldn't understand his words. "Do you recognize my mastery?"

"Never. I won't submit to you," Ahna whispered, panting.

The words hit him like a crushing blow. Her earlier bantering had given him hope that she would accept him. But he couldn't—wouldn't—force her hand, even if honoring her decision went against his father's wishes. If she didn't want to be his wife, he would let her go. Her fate was in her own hands.

Kadar slowly removed the knife from where it rested against her hip and shifted his weight so that she could squirm out from under him. Lowering his eyes, he made to move away, but Ahna reached out and touched his face. "Kadar, where are you going?" she whispered.

He took a deep breath, then another. When he felt calm and knew his stoic facade once again obscured his emotions, he met her gaze.

"Letting you go. You win; I won't force you to accept me."

"Ah," she replied noncommittally. But when he made to move away again, she grabbed his wrist to stop him. "I won't yield to a master, Kadar, ever. But I would cherish a partner. A husband who desires me for who I am." Before he could process all her words, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers for a scorching kiss. "What do you say?"

"Yes," he growled.

***

Ahna couldn't quite believe what she had just done. What she had just said.

With only a few words, she'd sealed her fate, forever entwined it with Kadar's. A man she'd met less than a week ago. How had the horse-stealing bastard managed to get under her skin so quickly? But from the very beginning, his sense of honor, his courage, and the fact he considered her his equal had attracted her. He actually listened to her. He even laughed at her insults.

A shiver of excitement mixed with fear ran down her spine. Kadar was different. None of her other suitors had ever given two horses' tails about her. Although their marriage was strictly one of politics, Ahna hoped it could become more.

He certainly wanted her, if his low growl just now was anything to go by.

Kadar once again pressed his firm lips against hers, questioning, exploring. Slowly, as if he was afraid she would pull back, he ran a hand over the top of her head and went to tangle his fingers in her disheveled hair.

When he finally released her mouth, she breathed, "Can't we ask them to leave?" She didn't hold much hope that they would, but their presence still made her uncomfortable.

"No. A pairing is to be witnessed to the end."

Ahna nodded unenthusiastically.

Kadar kissed his way to her ear. "Remember what I said. Focus only on me. On my desire for you."

Yes, focusing on him sounded like the right thing to do. "You said you'd make sure to keep my attention on you."

"Ah, yes, I did, didn't I?"

His eyes gleamed, and Ahna shuddered with desire.

"Now, lie back," Kadar ordered, and lowered himself next to her. Resting on his side, he leaned in and took possession of her lips, prodding them open, and swept his tongue into her mouth. She let him taste her as she tasted him in return.

_Great thundering hordes, he can kiss,_ Ahna thought.

As he pulled away, Kadar mumbled, " _Sesesu_ " under his breath. Ahna's eyes flew open, searching for his, but his eyes were still firmly shut. For some reason, the curse, uttered with ragged breath, aroused her even more.

Nibbling down her neck, Kadar made his way to her breasts. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, her whole body arched and she moaned, then bit her cheek to silence herself. She flushed, thinking the crowd must certainly have heard.

"Close your eyes," Kadar said, his mouth poised over her breast. "I'm the only one here."

Ahna hesitated, but after one last look at Kadar's hungry expression, she finally complied. Darkness closed in around her, punctuated only by Kadar's touch, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his heat. Distantly, she was aware of movement around her. But the more Kadar teased and licked and pinched her nipple between his teeth, the less she could focus on what was happening outside of her body.

Releasing her breast, Kadar trailed his fingers down her side and grabbed her hip, his touch light but firm. Then he stopped. Uncertain, Ahna reopened her eyes to glance at him. The crowd came rushing back into focus, and her cheeks flamed anew.

"Ahna." Kadar's husky whisper dragged her attention away from the tribe. He hovered over her, propped up on one elbow, and stared at her with the strangest of expressions: partly starved, partly some emotion she couldn't name. She wondered what he was thinking.

"Kadar?" she whispered back.

"Open your legs for me."

She blushed deeper, but didn't even think of arguing with him. She closed her eyes again, making a conscious effort to push the onlookers from her mind. Kadar's weight shifted over her as he positioned himself lower. He kissed her stomach, mouthed and nipped at the skin of her hip. His fingers traced the crease of her thighs, parted her folds, opened her sex to him.

Ahna's heart skipped a beat when he planted a gentle kiss at the apex of her thighs. His breath warmed her already overheated skin as he lingered, laying his cheek on her lower stomach as if to take in the view. She began to squirm, willing him to carry on. Then his mouth, his tongue, was on her, teasing along the crease until he reached the bundle of nerves he knew how to play so well. Ahna felt a flood of moisture pool between her thighs, and she whimpered.

When Kadar took her in his mouth and began to suck on her nub, she bucked in his arms and went to fist her hands in his hair. The beads tipping the braids at his temple jingled as they tangled together. He stopped long enough to capture her wrists, removing her fingers from his head, and held them both over her stomach with one hand. He chuckled as she tried to pull them away so she could bury them in his hair again.

"Peace, girl. I like my hair attached to my scalp."

Ahna groaned in frustration, but she stopped struggling against his grip. Satisfied, Kadar gave a slow, lazy lick along her folds and spread her legs further with his shoulders. He then teased at her entrance with a finger until she moaned.

More, she wanted—needed—more. Some relief to the pressure she felt growing inside her.

Kadar slicked a finger in her juice, then swirled them around her bud and back again. With each pass, Ahna could feel her orgasm building, until she thought she would scream. Just when it appeared he would never give her what she needed, he dipped two fingers inside her and brought his mouth to the center of her growing pleasure. Gently, he sucked on the bud while pumping in and out of her body.

Ahna's breath hitched in her throat and her whole body tensed as he brought her to the plateau. She mewled, throwing her head back in a desperate plea for him to bring her all the way there. Kadar slowed, stretching her pleasure into agony that lasted what seemed like an eternity. Then he closed his teeth around her nub and pushed his fingers inside her, and she shattered. As stars burst behind her closed eyes, she cried out in pleasure and bucked against his hand.

Eventually, the lights stopped flashing, and her body went limp. Slowly, she reopened her eyes and looked to where he still rested, nestled between her thighs. His expression amused, he gazed back at her.

"There you are," he whispered. "Welcome back."

Ahna nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak yet.

"My turn," he added under his breath. Kadar sat back on his heels and motioned for her to roll over.

Ahna shivered with renewed arousal at his request and husky words.

Rolling over as gracefully as her shaky muscles allowed, she got to her hands and knees. She rested her chest on her forearms and buried her face in her hands. She knew her cheeks were aflame, and she was unwilling to admit her continued embarrassment to their audience, or to even acknowledge their presence.

Before she could think too deeply about them, Kadar's calloused fingers touched her back and trailed down her tailbone to her buttocks. There he paused and gripped her hips, his thumbs pressing into the small of her back, and positioned her so she was pressed against his clothed erection. Ahna couldn't hold back her groan of desire. The very possessiveness of the caress ratcheted up her need and made her throb with anticipation. But his hands didn't stay still for long.

He released one hipbone and trailed his fingers up and down her thigh, and slowly made his way back to her sex. With a gentle caress, he teased the skin on both sides of her bud, never quite touching the oversensitive tip. Ahna moaned into her hands. He knew just how to light her on fire... again.

"Please," she whimpered.

His answering chuckle made her groan. Did he like to torture himself that way? Surely by now he must want his own release?

He toyed with her for a few more moments, before cupping her sex in his hand, angling his fingers so that he could tease her nub with his thumb while dipping his finger inside her slick passage. Carefully, he pumped in and out, making sure he rubbed the skin around her sensitive bud with each movement. Before Ahna thought it possible, she felt ready to burst once more.

Once again he stopped.

"You grass viper, don't you dare stop," she groaned, unable to hold back her curse.

Kadar's grip tightened on her hip. Her insult gained her nothing else but an outright laugh from him. "In a moment," he told her, his voice gravelly and breathless.

He shifted his weight and his touch disappeared but for the hand on her hip. Sounds of leather snapping informed her he was untying the decorative pants he wore for the ritual. After another second, she felt his hips press against hers, and his cock rubbed against her entrance. Ahna pressed back against him with an encouraging moan. As he slid into her body, he mumbled what sounded like lust-filled curses—or perhaps prayers—and she thought she heard him utter an awed " _Sesesu_ " again.

His free hand grabbed her hip, and he pulled her against him until he was completely buried inside her body, and once there he held still for a moment, his breath ragged.

Ahna whimpered and rocked against him. Kadar's fingers tightened almost painfully, and he slowly started to thrust inside her. He set a careful pace, slower than she would have wished, but no amount of wiggling or moaning changed his implacable rhythm.

"Lie down," he whispered after a time. He kissed her shoulder blade, and added, "Knees together."

Ahna hastened to obey the strained request while he let go and shifted his weight. Kadar moved his knees to the outside of her legs and he sat back on his heels. When he resumed his stroke within her body, she nearly cried out at the exquisite feeling.

The position—although making his thrusts more shallow—created an intense friction that felt like he was rubbing on her nub from the inside out.

Kadar's thrusts soon grew faster and more erratic, and with each one Ahna moaned. She could feel another orgasm building quickly. She knew the moment he lost the battle between waiting for her and surrendering to his own release. Digging his fingers into her skin, he yanked her back as he in turn pressed into her body as far as he could go and growled. Every sound he made, every twitch of his body as he came, heightened Ahna's awareness until she couldn't have held back her orgasm if she'd tried.

Ahna bit down on one of her hands and screamed her release.

#  Chapter 10

She was still feeling aftershocks of pleasure when Kadar collapsed against her back. His panting breath stirred her hair. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

All she could do was shake her head. Her energy was gone.

Slowly, she grew aware of every pebble and crack in the hard-packed ground under her breasts and hips. And so she wasn't unhappy when Kadar's weight lifted and he pulled out from her body with a grunt to settle next to her. She rolled to her side, and he casually draped his arm over her waist, pulling her against him. Brushing the hair from her sweat-slick forehead and cheek, he whispered, "Thank you."

Ahna nodded somewhat shyly, and snuggled closer. "Please tell me we don't have to stay here all night."

He chuckled. "No, just until everyone leaves the ritual ground. Then we can retire to our tent while the night's festivities continue."

True enough, members of the tribe were slowly walking away. Some left by themselves, others with a partner. All appeared to ready themselves for a night of celebration. Ahna felt her cheeks redden again—she'd never blushed so much in a single evening. _Great Spirits!_ She'd screamed her orgasm and every one of them had heard her!

"There's no need to feel embarrassed," Kadar said. He must have felt her tension and guessed at the reason. "It's a good omen for the future, if the wife enjoys her husband's attentions on their wedding night."

Ahna groaned. __ Her thoughts once again returned to the fact she was now a married woman, not something she imagined would ever happen after her father sent her away. And now—her thoughts screeched to a halt. Kadar hadn't pulled out this time, and spilled his seed inside her. What if she became pregnant? The idea shocked her.

She shook herself. It was no use worrying about a baby at this point. She couldn't change what happened. But they would need to talk about it soon.

"Our witnesses have left. We can go now," Kadar said as he finally sat back up.

Ahna had a very nice view of his flat stomach and muscled thighs, and then his backside, as he gained his feet and offered her his hand. "They should have the marital bed all ready for us in our tent," he added with a bemused expression. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one to still have trouble adjusting to their new married status.

She let him pull her to her feet without complaint. Her knees still felt weak as a newborn's, and made her want nothing more than to snuggle under the covers with Kadar by her side.

After gathering their discarded clothing, they made their way silently to the tent—the same tent where she'd spent the night. Inside, someone had lit several lanterns and prepared a bed of lush cushions, pillows, and blankets just as Kadar had promised.

He made a noise of approval and strode toward a basin of water. "Wash?" he asked, holding a small cloth in his hand.

When she nodded, he wet the towel and tossed it to her. Ahna quickly wiped away the sweat and dirt from her skin. After she finished, she handed the cloth back to him and crawled into the bedding.

Kadar chuckled at her contented groan, but Ahna didn't mind. The cushions and pillows were so soft and welcoming, how could she not appreciate them? She pulled the blankets up to her chin and snuggled deeper. Turning her eyes to Kadar, she watched as he finished his impromptu bath.

His eyes twinkled from the light of a nearby lantern, and a small smile graced his lips. "Comfortable?"

"Yes," she whispered and then yawned.

He nodded and tossed the washcloth back into the basin, and then joined her. Pillowing his head on his hand, he slid the other along her ribs to rest possessively on her breast, where he teased her nipple between his fingers.

The skin around his new tribal mark looked tight and red. She pulled one of her hands from under the blanket and reached up to touch the tattoo under Kadar's left eye. The design was similar to his father's, with three black horizontal bars and the top bar had three triangles—instead of two, like Amar's—all in a row with their points up, and the first one filled with a dot. Ahna assumed it was the symbol of his tribe.

"Did it hurt?" she asked.

He pulled her hand away from his cheek and kissed the tip of her fingers. "It's still a bit tender, yes."

"Will I need to get the same tattoo?" Fatin had one after all, and so did many of the other women from the tribe.

His smile faltered and his eyes clouded. "No," he responded and rolled to his back, the beads in his hair clanking against each other.

What did she say? His abrupt emotional withdrawal confused her. "Why not?" she asked, trying to understand.

She heard him sigh deeply. "It's complicated. Just know that taking my tribal mark is voluntary, not required. Not all married women decide to do so. I promise you that no one is going to force you to take mine."

"I see," she said, although she didn't. Not really. Was he simply giving her a choice, or was his objection more personal? She didn't know and truth be told, she was afraid of his answer.

For a while, they listened to the sounds of the camp drifting to their ears. There was music and revelry, laughter and hushed conversations. They would probably celebrate all night, and Ahna was glad Kadar's and her presence wasn't necessary.

Ahna yawned deeply. "Kadar?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me your father spoke Zammarian?"

Kadar huffed a bitter laugh. "I didn't know myself until this morning. Much to Nur's enjoyment."

Ahna wasn't sure what Kadar meant. Deciding to ignore his caustic statement, she forged on, "He said you agreed to his plan to marry me after your discussion with him last night."

He snorted softly. "Agreed? That is certainly one way to see it." He shook his head, and sighed again.

He sounded so out of sorts. She wanted to reassure him of her decision. "I don't regret it."

After a minute, Kadar rolled to his side. "I'm sorry. I wish Amar had left you out of his schemes."

"It's too late for that," she pointed out. "But, really. I don't mind."

He looked on the verge of saying something else, but his expression grew shuttered again and in the end, he stayed silent.

"Kadar, I don't understand why you're so angry at your father," Ahna continued after a moment of hesitation. "You sound as if you hate him. Surely, you can't hold him responsible for the Zammarians taking you prisoner during the war." Not after all these years.

"And yet, I do," he replied frostily, and let himself fall backward to stare at the ceiling of the tent sightlessly.

"Can you tell me why?"

Kadar didn't speak for several minutes. He pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and tucked her head under his chin. Finally he huffed and in a monotone he began speaking. "I was only five years old, secure back in our tribe with my mother while our warriors fought the Zammarians. I didn't know it at the time of course, but we were losing. The war was folly from the start and quickly became a bloodbath for the tribes. Father—newly appointed as kuo—had no choice but to negotiate peace. As part of those negotiations, he offered his own son—his only son at the time—to the Zammarian king as a sign of good faith."

Ahna's jaw dropped. A hostage? Of course, she'd wondered about the circumstances of his capture at such a young age, yet this was not what she'd expected.

"He _sold_ me to the Zammarians, Ahna, not even knowing if I'd be treated well or thrown into a cell and forgotten."

Not knowing what else to do, she wrapped her own arms around him and hugged him tight.

"I didn't even know that my mother died giving birth to Nur. I only learned about it several months later when I returned to the tribe for my annual visit."

Thinking of the small boy he'd been at the time, forced to go live with his people's enemies, she felt her heart break. "I—I had no idea."

"I didn't expect you to," he replied with a sigh. "It was a long time ago. But now you see; Amar will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He's used me before, and now the crafty bastard has me right where he wants me."

There was more than a hint of impotent rage in his words. Ahna understood the feeling; she had been her father's pawn all her life.

"I will stand by my earlier promise," he added. "After I complete my mission for Jalen, I'll escort you to the town of your choice. There you can start a new life."

But she didn't _want_ a new life anymore. She wanted to stay with him. "Kadar—" she began but he hushed her with a light kiss.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring," he said placatingly. "Right now, my priority needs to be reaching Al'Zafyra. We can discuss the future in more detail later."

Ahna frowned at him. It sounded as if he had already made up his mind. "Kadar—" she started again, but once more he didn't let her finish.

"Stay here and get some rest. I need to have a word with Father."

_Urgh!_ Now she was getting irritated at him. "I'll be waiting for your return," Ahna said dryly. "There is a lot we need to discuss."

Kadar stood, and after a moment of clear deliberation, grabbed a Kanashi styled tunic and pants from an out of the way corner. She'd seen the fabric earlier, but hadn't realized the stack held garments. Kadar dressed quickly, and Ahna watched him as he reached for his sword belt and then stopped to consider. In the end, he put it back down instead of buckling it on. After sweeping the tent with one last gaze, he glanced back at her and shook his head.

"Married," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Jalen will never let me hear the end of it." He reached down to brush a strand of hair from her face, but Ahna shied away from his touch. She wasn't quite ready to stop being mad at him yet.

He sighed and pulled back. "I'll be back soon," he finally said, and walked out of the tent.

***

Kadar was still thinking over his conversation with Ahna when he reached the kuo's tent. He knew she had been unhappy and annoyed at him when he left, but he didn't know why. He was simply trying to honor her wishes, as she hadn't chosen to end up married to him.

He shook his head. _Unbelievable._ But it was done now, and surprisingly, he was glad.

He did have mixed feelings about the ritual itself. They'd done everything as tradition demanded. He even spent himself inside her. But that fact left him conflicted. He found himself imagining the child who could result from their union. The baby would have his blue eyes, and Ahna's honey-colored hair... He shook himself out of his reverie. He didn't even know how Ahna would react if she were to become pregnant with their child.

Maybe that was what angered her.

They needed to discuss this possibility, and soon. For now, though, he had to focus on his upcoming talk with Amar.

Voices dropped down to startled murmurs when Kadar strode into the tent. He went straight for his father, who sat opposite the entrance with Fatin at his side, speaking to a few older men from the tribe who had chosen not to participate in the night's festivities.

When he noticed Kadar, Amar frowned and turned to his guests. It took him only a few terse words to have them nod and quickly take their leave from the tent. Amar then turned to his wife. "Fatin, my dear, can you bring us tea if you please? Then my son and I have some things to discuss, I believe."

"Of course, love." She gained her feet gracefully and made her way to the fire pit. As she walked by Kadar, she stopped for a moment to observe him. Whatever she saw in his eyes, she didn't seem to approve as she scowled and pointed a finger at him. "Don't you go picking a fight with your father at this hour of the night," she warned him. "He is tired tonight."

Kadar suppressed smile. Amar's second wife could be as protective of him as a sandcat to her mate whenever his well being was threatened. She was barely older than Kadar, but she tended to treat him like a misbehaving youngster. "Yes, Fatin. I just want to talk to him."

"I know you too well, Kadar," she said, and with that left to attend to the tea preparation.

Mentally dismissing her and her concern, Kadar approached Amar and sat facing him. Fatin soon returned with a teacup for him. Kadar took it with a nod and a murmured word of thanks, and waited until she bid them goodnight and left the tent before he spoke. "Are you happy now, Father?"

Amar shook his head and sighed. "It's not about me, son. It's never been."

"All my life, it's always been about you. You and your personal ambitions."

Kadar recognized that, despite assuring Fatin to the contrary, he was trying to get a rise out of Amar. It was a childish urge, but the old wound had been festering for years, and tonight's ceremony had only added a fresh layer to it.

Amar, though, looked more defeated than angry at his words. "Is it ambition to wish to save your people?" he said. "All I've ever done was to protect them, allow them to live free and in peace."

"At what price?" Kadar shot back, glaring.

"Don't look at me like that, son. I'm already well aware of your hatred for me. Isn't it enough that your mother never forgave me?"

At the mention of his mother—who'd been deceased twenty-nine years—some of his anger evaporated. He barely remembered her, and Amar never talked about his first wife.

"You know," Amar continued. "When she learned what I agreed to, she threatened to gather our remaining warriors and mount an expedition to get you back from those 'accursed Zammarians'. Your mother was a remarkable woman, and a great warrior. She would have fought to get you back if I'd let her, and she would probably have succeeded."

Again, Kadar stayed silent, waiting for Amar to continue.

"Of course, I couldn't let her do this. The entire peace treaty hinged on your arrival to the Zammarian court, safe and sound. She was never the same afterward. I don't think she ever forgave me, even as she lay dying after giving birth to Nur." He signed to the skies. "Bless her on her eternal journey into the desert."

"Mother threatened you?"

"Oh, yes. She had quite a temper," Amar reflected, his gaze growing wistful. "Such a stubborn woman, she was. You remind me of her in many respects."

Kadar simply stared at Amar, unsure how else to react to his father's uncharacteristically sentimental mood. This wasn't the reason he'd come here tonight.

"She would be proud of the man you became," Amar said, after another long silence. Then, he sighed. "Forgive this old man's reminiscences. I don't believe this is the reason you came to see me."

Kadar snorted. "No, it's not. I came to inform you Ahna and I will be departing in the morning."

Amar's eyebrows shot up. "Leaving, already?"

As annoyed as Kadar felt by the edge of disbelief in his father's voice, he forged on. "We have to. I am on an urgent mission for Jalen, and cannot delay it any longer."

"I see," Amar said, clearly unhappy with the news. Then, his expression turned somewhat calculating. "You should leave the princess here with the tribe in that case. The rebel group who attacked her convoy at the pass have been spotted in our territory not long ago. They might still be looking for her. We will keep her safe until your return."

"No, Father. She is coming with me; I need her help to enter Al'Zafyra." Even if he didn't need her—which, unfortunately, he did—he wouldn't leave her with the tribe. He knew all too well that his father was already planning on using her to have him return to the Kanashi on a more permanent basis. He wasn't ready to return "home"yet.

"Ah, yes, Al'Zafyra." Amar appeared thoughtful, and he ran a hand over his beard. "Does this have anything to do with the latest rumors coming from the Zammarian court?"

Tensing, Kadar gave his father a wary look. Of course, Jalen in the last few weeks had made no secret of the curse's physical manifestation, but the cause of it wasn't yet public knowledge. "Which rumors? There are always rumors circulating at court."

"The prince's madness," Amar said. "Don't think I wasn't aware of the court's happenings in the last six months. King Jameyri wasn't as secretive about his son's ailment as he thinks he was. We all knew something was wrong, and the queen's trial and execution only confirmed that fact."

Kadar felt like groaning out loud. He'd been afraid of this. Rumors of Jalen's mental state had spread in spite of their best efforts to keep them contained. "Perhaps," he only said in response to Amar's earlier question.

"Interesting. His betrothal to that little fire-haired healer led me to believe your prince had gotten his... condition under control." His eyes glinted with some amusement. "After all, it's the only reason you are now married to your Princess Ahnanti instead of him."

"Only because of your scheming."

"You'll thank me for it someday, son."

Kadar barely kept from rolling his eyes at his father's smug look.

"Was I wrong in thinking your prince Jalen is in no danger of losing his mind anymore?" Amar said, serious once more.

"There is only so much Sadie could do," Kadar answered, wondering how much to tell Amar. As kuo of the Kanashi, he would always use whatever information he had to further his own agenda. Kadar knew this only too well. On the other hand, Amar's network of informers could prove useful to Kadar in the future, and he doubted much of what he said would come as a surprise to the wily old man. "The Shifting Sands curse is powerful and difficult to vanquish—or so I've been told. She needs the books that were stolen from her if there is any chance of her curing Jalen completely. Those documents have been brought to Al'Zafyra. "

Amar nodded, his expression grim. "I have heard about this curse. Old stories mostly. They usually end badly."

"Then you see why my mission is so crucial. It's only a matter of time before Sadie isn't able to contain it anymore."

With a sigh, Amar set his tea cup down and gained his feet. "I understand the importance of your mission. It is not in the Kanashi's interest to see the future king of the Zammarians go mad. In the morning, I will tell Nur to—"

A girl screamed, her voice high-pitched and panicked. The sounds of revelry from outside the tents stopped, and for a moment everyone appeared to be listening to the night, waiting.

And then, the girl screamed again. "Father! Kadar! The enemy! The enemy!"

Amar blanched under his beard. "Ziya."

#  Chapter 11

Whispers brought Ahna out of the light sleep she'd fallen into waiting for Kadar to return. Male voices.

"Training? Now?" she muttered, and buried her head in her pillow. "It's too early." She wanted to sleep more. She was so sore.

But the voices continued, undaunted by her whining. "Do you really think these nomads have her?"

"The captain said they did."

"You think they had their way with her?" the first voice asked, between disgust and unhealthy curiosity. Ahna opened bleary eyes and frowned. Something wasn't right.

The second man answered the first, "They better not."

Her blood turned to ice in her veins, and she slowly sat up. That wasn't Kanashian they were using, or even Zammarian. These men spoke Bathan.

_The rebels,_ _here?_ How had they snuck inside the camp without alerting anyone? She had to warn Kadar and Amar. She would wait for them to walk away from her tent before moving, otherwise they might hear her.

The first voice huffed. "I don't know why we're even bothering. The captain is a fool if he thinks the king cares one whit for her. Ransoming her won't work when he's the one who sent her away in the first place."

"She's still his daughter, and our princess. King Siddha _will_ have to listen to our demands once we have her in our possession. He won't have a choice."

A boot brushing along the ground sent a puff of dust under the canvas wall of the tent. One of the men shushed the other, and silence fell. Ahna couldn't hear them advancing anymore and supposed they had stopped. After a moment, a young woman whispered in Kanashi, "Devdan _? Ord unu borum. Chi'saru kasesu ijo_ —"

The woman's statement cut off with a surprised yelp.

"Quiet," one of the men from before hissed.

Ahna strained to hear the muffled reply.

"Get her blade, Jai," the second man whispered. "I don't want to be skewered."

The woman the rebels had captured hissed.

"Too bad she's Kanashi scum—" one of the men remarked, but his voice cut with a grunt of pain before he could finish his thought.

" _Kard-oto_! Kadar!" the woman screamed. The woman's cry was muffled again.

"Horse-pissing nomad!"

" _Kard-oto_! Kadar! _Kiki'te! Kiki'te!"_ The woman yelled, her voice losing definition as she moved further away from the tent.

"You idiot, you let her go," the second man derided the first.

His companion hissed, "You're not the one she kneed in the sac."

"Well, you better get over it quick. They know we're here now." The rasp of a blade pulled from its scabbard reached Ahna's ears.

She scrambled toward the exit. The Kanashi were under attack. Moments after the woman's screams, the first sounds of battle echoed through the camp. She was about to hurry outside when she remembered she was still stark naked and unarmed.

Cursing, Ahna cast around for a _kamiz_. As soon as she found one of the shirts in the pile of clothes sitting in the corner, she yanked it on, and belted it closed while glancing around for a weapon. Her eyes fell on Kadar's weapon belt. Although the belt itself was too large for her, she drew the sword from its scabbard.

Still barefooted, she padded to the tent flap to peek out. In the light of the celebratory bonfires, she could just make out the rebels, wearing Bathan-style clothing, in a clash against the Kanashi. As she stood there, uncertain what to do to help, she caught the eye of one of the younger Kanashi warriors—a boy barely out of childhood. Unbeknownst to him, a rebel had crept up behind him. Ahna opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was already too late. With one thrust of his sword, the rebel felled him.

Ahna clamped a hand in front of her mouth to swallow her scream as the youth crumpled to the ground. Without ever noticing her presence at the tent's entrance, the rebel turned around to face more of the Kanashi. As soon as he left the vicinity, she rushed outside. Her skin prickled as she reached the downed Kanashi; she was far too exposed standing in the cleared area at the ritual site. Still, she knelt down, reaching for the young man's neck, searching for a pulse. His glassy eyes stared unseeingly at the sky. She found no pulse.

"Coward," she cursed her countryman, her eyes prickling with angry tears. That Kanashi had been only a boy.

The clash of steel on steel close to her position—too close—brought her back to the present, and she took a shaky breath. She couldn't stay there; it left her too vulnerable. A lone swords-woman was no match against a group of rebels. What if they encircled her again? It was pure luck no one had noticed her yet.

She had to find Kadar.

Spotting the kuo's tent on the other side of the now-deserted bonfire, she frowned. She would be visible to all while she crossed to the central ground. But she knew Kadar had been with his father when the fight broke out. She didn't have a choice; she would have to chance being discovered.

Ahna was about to dash away when she heard a whimper. She froze and waited, but heard nothing more over the sounds of battle. She began to think she had imagined it when the whimper came again.

"Hello?" She searched for the origin of the voice, keeping low to the ground for what amount of protection that gave her.

She heard another whimper a few moments later, and this time she was able to pinpoint its direction. It appeared to be coming from the tent she'd just vacated. A woodpile sat close to the entrance, no doubt left there to sustain the bonfire throughout the night. Ahna knew no one else had been in the tent when she left it, so that pile of wood was the likeliest hiding spot.

She approached warily, sword at the ready. Again, she called. "Hello?"

" _Ki'isu_ ," a small voice answered.

She stopped, taken by surprise. It sounded like a child.

" _Ito, ki'isu te_!" it said again.

Ahna rounded the corner and found herself face to face with a young boy of eight or nine cowering in the shadows cast by the woodpile. Like most Kanashi, he had dark hair and eyes and bronzed skin. He clutched a small knife in both hands, his eyes huge and scared. When he saw her, his shoulders slumped in relief.

What was the boy doing there, Ahna wondered in surprise. The children were supposed to be staying at the edge of camp, in the care of the tribe's older youths. "What are you doing here? Are you lost?" she asked in Bathan before she realized the boy wouldn't understand her.

Still, he began to talk, making gestures with his hands to emphasize what he was saying. Ahna shook her head. She didn't understand a word of it. Explanations as to his presence behind the woodpile would have to wait. For now, she needed to get him to safety. She reached out for him while looking for a clear path across camp.

"Come," she said, having in mind to get him back to the rest of the children. "We need to go before we're found."

Although he probably didn't comprehend her words, the boy slipped his smaller hand in hers without complaint. Together, they ran, keeping to the more shadowed areas close to the tents. Ahna's heart was in her throat. She wasn't sure what she would do were she to get attacked now. She felt responsible for the young boy's safety, but he might become collateral damage if ever the rebels noticed her. She was dressed in a Kanashi garment, but her Bathan coloring betrayed her.

They reached the children's area a few minutes later, only to be welcomed by ten bows drawn and pointed straight at them. Nervous youths stared back at her, as if trying to ascertain if she were ally or foe. Ahna stopped dead in her tracks, fearing one of the nervous children would fire before realizing they weren't a threat.

" _Selam te! Selam_ Devdan _!_ " her small companion cried out, and the bows wavered before being lowered by their wielders.

"Devdan _! Selam-bana i-lıyor? Ziya ord unu chi'ame_ ," a young woman exclaimed. She appeared to be the leader of the young defenders.

The boy slipped away from her group and went to join the other children. For a moment, all gathered around him, speaking all at once. Ahna used that time to scan the smaller tent. Not a single adult seemed to be present. Apart from the youth guarding the entrance, they were defenseless. Her heart dropped. However much she wished to return to the central fire and look for Kadar, she couldn't leave them to fend for themselves.

***

_Ziya! Ahna!_ Kadar's heart jumped to his throat and he launched to his feet. Reaching for his sword, he swore when he didn't find it in its usual place. He had left his weapon belt back with Ahna in their tent, thinking it inappropriate for his talk with Amar. He regretted his decision now, but at least Ahna would be armed.

He offered a hand to help Amar back to his feet, and asked. "Do you have a sword I can use?"

Amar glared at him and stood without his assistance. "Where did you leave yours?"

"Back in our tent," Kadar replied, listening to the sounds of metal clashing.

He was about to rush out of the tent without anything at all—he needed to get back to Ahna—when Fatin burst through the entrance. "Here," she said and tossed a sheathed sword to Kadar before turning and handing Amar a blade. Amar grabbed the back of her head and leaned down for a lingering kiss. Breaking away, he then ordered her, "Go!"

Fatin nodded and swept out of the tent, drawing out two long daggers as she left.

Kadar didn't wait for Amar to give him instructions; he stalked out of the tent on Fatin's heels, blade drawn. Once outside, he assessed the situation with a practiced eye. Chaos had erupted in the central place; Bathan rebels and tribespeople clashed in groups or in one-on-one combat. Already, dead and wounded from both sides lay on the ground. As he scanned the camp, planning on how to defeat their assailants, a short form careened into him, forcing him to take a step back from the impact. He grabbed his assailant's arm.

"Let me go!" the attacker said in a frightened—and definitely female—voice.

Kadar froze, then relaxed. "Ziya."

She looked up, and her lips stretched into a relieved smile. "Well met, brother," she said a little shakily.

Kadar frowned at her. He wasn't amused. "What are you doing outside the children's tent?"

"Looking for Devdan." It was her turn to frown. "He slipped away while I wasn't looking. I know he wanted to go see the bonfire..."

Devdan was out there?! Kadar took a deep breath to keep his temper in check. It wasn't his half-sister's fault if the Bathan rebels had chosen this night to attack. Showing her his worry and anger wouldn't be productive.

"Who are these people?" she asked at that moment, distracting Kadar from his thoughts. "Why are they attacking us?"

"They are rebels from Bathu. They attacked Princess Ahnanti's convoy before, but I'd hoped they would be intelligent enough to stay away from the Kanashi."

Ziya bit her lower lip. Kadar recognized the mulish expression, even before she opened her mouth again. "I need to find Devdan and get him back to safety."

"No," he replied sharply, which earned him a scowl from Ziya. "You don't even have your bow. You stay with me."

Still, he needed to find and rescue Devdan before he got hurt—or worse. But then, movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention. Someone was moving, using the shadows to stay undetected as they traveled around the edge of the camp. The ritual bonfire illuminated the moving figure for a few seconds, and Kadar started. _Ahna._ He was happier to see her unharmed than he believed possible. She moved again, dashing for the next patch of shadows. He started again when he realized she clutched Devdan's hand and was pulling the boy behind her as she made her way toward the children's tent.

He smiled. _That's my girl_ , he thought, relieved to see that both she and Devdan were alive and well. He trusted Ahna to keep the boy safe for now. Then, he turned his focus back on the battle. The Kanashi defended themselves well, but were still acting somewhat disorganized—a consequence of being caught unaware on a night of celebration. He grabbed for the closest tribesman, not even wincing when he discovered who it was. "Nur, gather our warriors in the center of camp. We need to contain the attack. They cannot be allowed to reach the children's tent."

For a moment, it looked as if Nur would protest, but a glare and a sharp, "Do it," got him moving.

Now, to find the rebel leader...

***

In time, the sounds of battle grew fewer and farther away. Ahna could hear the main forces still engaged near the central bonfire, but aside from an occasional war cry the rebels appeared to be losing ground. So far, none of her fellow countrymen had found her, but that wasn't a guarantee of safety for her or the brave Kanashi children by her side.

Ahna turned to look at the assembled youngsters and bit her lower lip. She felt positively torn in two. As long as she stayed, she was a danger to them. But what if she set out on her own? They would be left defenseless. The young warriors set to watch over them were ill-equipped to deter the rebels for long, no matter that they thought otherwise. The oldest was barely over fourteen. She couldn't abandon them to their fate. _There is no honor in this battle,_ she thought in disgust.

"Finally found you," someone said in Bathan from behind her. Ahna whipped around to see who had spoken. One of the rebels stood at the tent's entrance, blocking the only way out. He held a crossbow directed not toward her, but toward the closest child, a girl of only six or so. She mentally cursed. Her luck had run out, it would seem; they'd finally found her. "Dressed as a nomad, too. As if that would disguise you for long."

The man stepped closer. The children bristled, and the young defenders pointed their bows at him. Ahna raised a hand to stop them, afraid the rebel would shoot before they could take him down. Furthermore, she didn't wish them to have his blood on their hands.

"It's worked this long," she replied, although disguising herself had never been part of her plan.

He chuckled, and his laugh had a desperate quality to it. Desperate men became dangerous men; Ahna hoped he wouldn't shoot. She had to keep his focus directed on her.

"You are losing," she said matter-of-factly, keeping her eyes trained on him and his weapon.

The crossbow in his hand wavered a moment as he glanced over his shoulder, but then his grip firmed and he glared back at her. "I still have a chance."

Ahna quirked an eyebrow at him. "Chance of what? Running away before it's too late?"

He swallowed hard. "No," he said uncertainly, then repeated the word more resolutely. He moved his crossbow from the children to her, and then back to them. He knew she wouldn't dare attack while he threatened them, the goat-sucking bastard. "If I bring you back to base, the captain will know what to do with you."

"There is no way you can leave the camp without being stopped," she pointed out.

The rebel eyed the children in such a calculating way that Ahna took a step forward and placed herself in front of them. "Leave them out of this." When his expression didn't change, she added, "Please. They're only children."

Desperate as he was, she didn't know what the man might do. She had to draw him away from the tent. "I'll come outside with you." In a show of good faith, she dropped Kadar's sword. It went against everything Captain Zahi had ever taught her to discard her sole weapon in the face of an enemy, but she counted on the fact the rebels wanted her alive. "Just leave the children out of this."

Her small companions might not have understood the conversation, but they exchanged anxious looks when they saw her move toward the rebel. She shook her head, hoping the gesture would be understood, when it appeared they might attack. Finally, she reached the man, who grabbed her arm in a painful grip. He kept his crossbow trained over her shoulder as he retreated.

"No need for that," Ahna said between gritted teeth, nodding at his hand.

"I'm not taking any chance, Princess. We've all heard about you and your little _hobby_."

She forced herself to stay expressionless. She had hoped to take him by surprise with an attack, but she would now have to find some other way.

"Why are you doing this? What are you hoping to accomplish?" she asked to keep him talking.

"Once King Siddah learns we have his daughter, he won't have a choice but to negotiate with us. We've been ignored for too long. He _has_ to listen to us."

Ahna couldn't muffle her snort of disbelief. "I very much doubt Father will lift a finger to help me. I've become nothing more than an embarrassment to him."

The rebel's grip on her arm tightened even more. "In that case, maybe I should—" he snarled, but he was interrupted mid-sentence.

Coming from the center of the camp, Kadar's voice boomed. "Drop your weapons or he dies!"

He marched into the light of the bonfire, holding a sword to the throat of a second man who was bloodied and looked dazed. The man holding Ahna prisoner cursed, apparently recognizing Kadar's hostage. The grip on her bicep loosened momentarily. Before her captor regained his focus and realized he possessed the perfect tool to thwart Kadar's ultimatum, Ahna twisted and brought her weight down.

Destabilized by her sudden movement, the man's hold loosened even more. She brought her folded arm up, putting all her weight behind it as she drove her elbow into his stomach. He bent in two, wheezing in pain. Just as her Bathan combat instructors had taught her long ago, she followed this by smashing her knee into his nose. It broke with a satisfying crunch.

The rebel crumpled to the ground, his wheeze transformed into a low moan of pain. Ahna grabbed for the man's own sword at his belt and stood in front of him. She forced her breathing to calm before she spoke. "It's over."

With their leader defeated and in Kadar's hands, it didn't take long for the rebels—those still alive and capable of it—to surrender.

Once again, Kadar's voice echoed through the camp, in Kanashi this time. " _R'bu hou-hichi t'ru._ "

The Kanashi surrounded what was left of the rebel party. The rebel swords clattered to the ground and their hands were raised in surrender. A man she recognized as Kadar's younger brother, Nur, and another Kanashi fighter approached her. Nur pointed to her prisoner and, without a word, the two of them yanked him to his feet. Nur raised an eyebrow at the sight of the man's swollen and bloody nose, and he smirked at her as they hauled him away toward the other prisoners.

Ahna passed a weary hand over her face and sighed. Around her, the Kanashi had finished rounding up the last of the rebels. Most were wounded in some fashion, and many more lay dead. What had they been thinking to attack the camp? They couldn't have hoped to win against at least three times their number. And for what? The vague hope of taking her hostage to force her father's hand?

She shook her head. What a waste of life.

#  Chapter 12

Ziya pulled free of Kadar's grip and bolted toward her younger brother and sister in the children's tent as soon as the fighting stopped. Kadar tried to stop her; he didn't know if all of the rebels were accounted for yet. But he moved too slowly and she was already out of reach. Part of Kadar envied her. He wished he could hurry to Ahna's side. He'd seen her exit the children's tent in the hands of a rebel, and he worried she might be hurt.

Glancing toward the last place he'd seen Ahna, he saw Nur and another of the Kanashi dragging that same rebel away. Kadar smirked. From where he stood, the man's nose appeared swollen and possibly broken. His Ahna had bested the rebel after all.

_His_ Ahna. What a dangerous thought. Believing she was his would make fulfilling his promise all that much harder.

Kadar shook his head and returned his focus of the rebel leader, subdued at his feet. The man—boy, really; he couldn't be much more than twenty—gave him only token resistance when Kadar pulled him up and pushed him into the waiting hands of one of the tribe's warriors. The prisoner knew he'd lost the fight. Trying to escape or retaliate now would be suicidal.

"Put him with the others," he told the man. He felt a pang of remorse at the fact he didn't know his fellow tribesman's name. "Amar will decide what to do with them."

Without a look back to check if his order was being followed, he stalked toward the other side of the camp. As he approached, Ahna looked up, and her lips stretched into a weary smile. Kadar raked his gaze over her, from her honey-colored tresses to her haphazardly belted _kamiz_ to her bare feet. She appeared fine, if somewhat disheveled and tired. He stopped in front of her and pulled her to him for an embrace, crushing his lips against hers for the kiss his body craved. He hadn't planned to do so after the fraught conversation they'd had only an hour before, yet couldn't seem to stop himself. He needed to know she was still there, alive, and hungry for him. She answered the embrace beautifully, molding her body against his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

When he pulled back, he gave her another thorough once-over to reassure himself of her condition. "Are you hurt?" he finally asked, more sharply than he intended.

Ahna's eyes grew a little wider at his tone, but she then smiled and shook her head. "No. And you?"

Her concern softened something inside him, and the knot of tension between his shoulder blades loosened. He hadn't even realized how tensed he had been until this point. "I am fine," he said.

"Good. I don't think I could have forgiven myself if the rebels had hurt you."

Ahna bit her lower lip and her gaze traveled around the camp. Her expression darkened as she took in the scene. Although he'd not had the opportunity to make a complete assessment of the situation yet, Kadar knew at least twenty of the tribe's warriors had been wounded in the fight, and funerals would need to be held for a few more. The rebels suffered a greater number of casualties, and in the end only about a dozen had been captured alive.

"This is all my fault," Ahna said, low enough that only he heard her. "First my convoy and now the Kanashi. If not for my presence here, the tribe would not have been attacked."

He shook his head. "Amar knew about the rebels even before he asked Nur to bring us back here. None of this is your fault. We didn't think they would dare attack the camp. We underestimated their desperation—or maybe overestimated their intelligence."

Kadar fell silent after he ended his sentence, and Ahna gave him a puzzled look when he frowned. _We_... Kadar rolled the word in his mind. Since when had he started thinking of the Kanashi as "we"? He'd only been here a day. He wanted to scowl, but stopped himself since Ahna still looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. He shook his head. "In any case, it doesn't matter, Ahna. None of the Kanashi will blame you for this. It was the rebels' choice to attack the camp, and they paid the price for their brazenness."

At the mention of them, Ahna's gaze darted over the prisoners huddled in a group guarded by several well-armed warriors. She scowled. "Is that all of them?"

"Yes," Kadar answered darkly. "The rest of them—"

"Were killed," she finished for him.

Kadar nodded. He looked at her eyes, trying to decipher her emotions. Although Ahna's expression was somber, she seemed in control of herself. If she was disturbed by this talk of death, she hid it well. Squaring her shoulders, she began to make her way toward the captured rebels. "You apprehended their leader," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I did," Kadar replied, falling into step beside her. "He should be with the rest of them."

"I want to talk to him. I need to know," her voice trailed off as she ran a hand down her face. "Why? I never thought my father's reign was quite this bad. I mean—I knew there was some discontent in the population, mostly over the war effort, but I never thought it would come to this."

"Sometimes, there _is_ no reason. Some people are simply opportunists," Kadar replied.

"Or pawns."

"Or pawns," Kadar agreed.

Her lips thinned, but she said nothing else. He wondered if she would refer to herself as a pawn in their recent marriage. He hoped not, but there was still so much to discuss.

Their steps brought them within hearing distance of the prisoners, and there, she stopped, her gaze intent on their leader. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she frowned. "Is that the leader?"

"Yes." With a wave of his hand, Kadar bid one of the guards to bring the young man forward. He didn't think Ahna would be satisfied with the answers to her questions, but he understood the importance of her asking them.

However, when the guard ushered the young rebel closer, the first words out of her mouth were not those Kadar expected.

"I recognize you!"

Kadar could swear the young man blanched under the grime and blood covering his face, but it was his only reaction to Ahna's statement.

"I saw you at court some years ago," she continued, her words clipped and halting. "You're Councilor Enoch's youngest grandson." She stopped and frowned, thinking for a second. "Sorel, wasn't it?"

Sorel blinked, his expression one of stunned surprised, and then his gaze dropped to the ground. He hadn't expected to be recognized, it would seem.

"You were the ones who attacked my convoy, weren't you?"

Still, Sorel did not reply. As the question was mostly rhetorical, Kadar let it slip.

"Why?" Ahna asked, pain in her voice. "What did you hope to gain by attacking us?"

This time when Sorel refused to answer, Kadar moved closer and grabbed him by the shoulder. He tightened his grip until the man winced in pain.

"Answer her," he ordered.

Sorel gave him a mulish glare, and Kadar thought he would have to shake him a bit more before he said anything. He raised one eyebrow in a clear "just try me boy". Sorel turned his head away from him, but he finally started talking.

"With you as our hostage, the king would have to listen to our demands," he said between gritted teeth.

If Ahna noticed the lack of proper address, he didn't show it. Knowing her, she hadn't realized—or cared.

"What demands?" she said instead.

Sorel sneered. "The peasants are starving, which a pampered princess like you wouldn't understand. Last year's harvest was meager at best, and King Siddah ordered all of it to be used for the war effort. Those horse-hoarding Zammarians—" He stopped and glared at Kadar although Kadar didn't know if he'd been recognized or if he only served as a stand-in for the "horse-hoarding Zammarians" in question. "Things need to change! Bathu's population can't survive another year like this. But the king won't _listen_."

Ahna's expression grew troubled. "What makes you think using me as leverage would help your cause? He doesn't negotiate with rebels. Ever."

"You jest," came his startled response. "He wouldn't let his own daughter—"

Ahna snorted. "You know very little about my father if you truly believe that."

Kadar thought Ahna might be right, although the situation was more complex than she let on. With his only daughter as hostage, the Bathan king would be put in a difficult position. On one hand, he would be hard-pressed not to do everything in his power to save her—if only to keep up appearance at court and with his allies. On the other, he couldn't be seen as capitulating to some rebels' demands, lest he be considered a weak ruler. The vultures circling the throne would no doubt jump on this opportunity.

"Sorel," Ahna said into the ensuing silence, causing Sorel to blanch again. "Does your grandfather know?" Then she gave him a sharp look. "Or... is he the one who planned everything?"

Sorel's mouth clamped shut and his mulish expression returned. Ahna continued to stare, but no answer was forthcoming. She pursed her lips. "No, Enoch probably didn't have a hand in this at all."

Kadar studied her as she thought about it further.

"Enoch's been against my father for years, but he's an old hand at this game. He wouldn't have used his own grandson this way. Too obvious; you weren't exactly subtle."

Kadar wasn't sure he agreed. He knew Sorel's kind all too well: young, enthusiastic, idealistic... and far too easily manipulated.

Sorel's already pale skin mottled with red, but he still refused to meet anyone's eyes. Anger or shame, Kadar wondered with interest.

"There will be ample time to get answers to your questions, Your Highness." Amar's words reached Kadar's ears a second before he noticed the old kuo __ walking toward their small group, followed by Fatin and Ziya holding Devdan's, hand.

Amar stopped beside Ahna, leveling Sorel a glare cold enough to make him flinch.

"What are you going to do with them?" Ahna asked, turning her head to look at Amar. She nodded at the prisoners.

"Send them back to their king," Amar replied matter-of-factly.

Ahna bristled, discomfort plain in her face. "He'll have them executed."

"They knew the consequence of going against their king." Amar's eyes hardened. "They raided my camp and killed my people. They killed many more when they attacked your convoy. They are not innocent men." His gaze said plainly that, if not for the Bathan king and his much needed alliance, Amar wouldn't hesitate to execute the prisoners himself to avenge the dead.

War's justice was a cruel mistress, Kadar reflected as he watched emotions flitter across Ahna's face. Anger, sadness, compassion, and resignation crossed through her eyes. She finally sighed. "No, they aren't innocent men. They have blood on their hands."

Amar's attention returned to Sorel. He gave the rebel leader a calculating look. "A councilor's grandson, you say. This council of nobles has a lot of power in Bathu, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Kuo," Ahna answered, sounding slightly puzzled by Amar's new train of thoughts. Kadar guessed that, as usual, his father was once again scheming something.

"Then your father the king will certainly be interested to know what this one has been up to."

Kadar could swear Sorel's face turned even paler, an interesting shade of gray-green that made his eyes appear huge and haunted, making him look even younger than before. For a moment, Kadar thought he would try to bolt in a desperate attempt to run away from the consequences of his failed rebellion.

"If I were you, I wouldn't," Kadar warned him, one hand still gripping his shoulder. "A true leader of men doesn't abandon them when the plan fails." He nodded toward the rest of the Bathan prisoners, huddled in a group watching the exchange.

Sorel's eyes grew a little wider at the rebuff. They darted from Kadar to Ahna, and then to his men, before dropping to the ground at his feet. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Kadar nodded to himself, satisfied that Sorel wouldn't try something foolish. He wouldn't have enjoyed hurting him.

_Was I ever that young_ ? Kadar wondered wearily. He wanted to rub his face; his newly inked tattoo throbbed and he longed to ease the discomfort. This night felt as though it would last forever, and although the sky was finally showing signs of the dawn to come, it was far from over yet.

He turned to the Kanashi who'd brought Sorel forward. "Get him back with his men."

The Kanashi nodded and prodded the rebel away from them. Kadar went to join Ahna and his father. "Are you all right?" he asked her when she leaned against his side, as if for support.

She sighed. "I... will be. I never thought their leader would be someone I know." Her expression turned sad. "What a mess," she muttered.

"Yes," he agreed.

Amar cleared his throat. "Kadar, son," he said.

Almost without thinking, Kadar came at attention at the address. "Father?"

"Come. We have much to do before the dead can walk the desert."

It took a moment for the meaning of those words to sink in. Presiding over the funeral rites of warriors fallen in combat was one of the duties of a tribe's chief. One of Amar's responsibilities. And now one he wanted shared.

Kadar's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. So like his father to try to manipulate him even now. But then he sighed. "Ahna, go with Fatin and my siblings back to our tent."

She snorted softly, but didn't try to argue with him. "What about you?" she asked instead.

"The dead request my presence, it would seem." He couldn't quite keep the edge of sarcasm off his voice.

Ahna gave him a confused look, and he sighed again. "It is part of a chief's duties to see that the funeral rites are carried out for our warriors fallen in combat. I was requested to attend."

"Oh." She looked at him as if she could divine his thoughts from his expression alone.

"Go," Kadar said again, nodding toward Fatin, Ziya, and Devdan. "I will return to you when I can."

"I have one request to make first," she said after a moment of hesitation.

Kadar raised an eyebrow in question. "I am not my father and I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"Those rebels who died during the attack... They were still my countrymen. They deserve a proper burial."

He nodded. "It will be done." He would make certain of it.

Finally, he turned to Amar once more. "Lead the way, Father."

#  Chapter 13

The canvas flap fell behind Ziya after she exited the tent where Ahna spent the day following the attack. Ahna glanced down at the platter of food the young woman—Kadar's half-sister and Fatin's oldest daughter—had left for her evening meal. She stared at the stewed goat meat and pieces of a peeled orange for long time. Her appetite, much like her sense of purpose, continued to elude her. After a lonely day without speaking to anyone, she wondered what Kadar was doing. She'd not seen him since he left with his father at dawn.

With an exasperated sigh, she picked a piece of orange and slipped it between her lips. She chewed, then swallowed it without really tasting it, her thoughts still turned toward Kadar. Perhaps she should go looking for him, but she hesitated to leave the tent. The mood around camp was glum after last night's raid, and she felt responsible for it.

Ahna pushed the tray of food aside; she just couldn't eat.

Ziya returned for her plate a while later, and frowned when she saw it so full, but she picked it up without a word, sending a pang of guilt through Ahna. It wasn't the Kanashi's fault she wasn't hungry and missed Kadar's presence.

Before Ahna could stop her and explain, Ziya left the tent again. _Probably for the best,_ Ahna thought. _I don't even know if she understands Zammarian_. Not being able to converse with the Kanashi bothered her and was the main reason she sequestered herself away all day.

"I'm being ridiculous," she muttered after a few minutes. She'd never been this shy before. With a sigh, she got up and forced herself to move. She would tour the camp and offer her condolences even if they didn't understand her. Grief was universal, and what better way to show her support than to offer her comfort? It was the least she could do after they fed and housed her all day. And besides, she could look for Kadar in the process.

As she stepped out, she half-expected to be barred from leaving. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Of course no one was going to stop her. She was not a prisoner.

Nonetheless, her sense of guilt over the attack and its consequences kept her steps light as she made her way to the central fire where everyone seemed to be congregating.

Now, where could Kadar be?

Her eyes scanned the Kanashi men and women huddled in small groups near the fire, talking, eating, and mourning. But there was no sign of Kadar or Amar. If they weren't there, that left only the desert itself, or Amar's large communal tent. She would check there next.

"Ahna? Why are you creeping around camp?" Kadar's somewhat puzzled voice cut through the quiet evening.

She turned to face him, her cheeks flushing. Kadar stood at the entrance of the kuo's tent, his form illuminated by the lamps burning inside. Cast in shadows, his eyes looked haunted. His expression, drawn and tired, still held a trace a humor.

What could she say? _I missed you_? "I was looking for you," she admitted.

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "I'd prefer if you stayed inside our tent where it is safer. There probably aren't any more rebels in the area, but I'd rather not take that chance."

"Don't you think I can protect myself?" she replied, annoyance bubbling to the surface. They really needed to discuss his tendency for dictating her life.

The corner of his lips stretched outward, thawing some of her resentment. "Who says I'm not worried about _them_ getting hurt? I saw what you did to that man who tried kidnapping you. His nose swelled to the size of a lemon."

She snorted softly. In spite of her continued irritation, she felt a smile tug at her mouth. "That's right," she replied. "Fear the power of my knee."

Kadar's eyes softened and he chuckled. Then, he sobered again and ran a weary hand over his eyes. "I need to return inside. You should try to get some sleep."

Ahna nodded without a word. She wasn't happy about being sent to her bed like a child, but she didn't argue against it. Now wasn't the time to act like a spoiled princess. So when Kadar stepped back into the kuo's tent, she returned to theirs. Once inside and with nothing better to do to pass the time, she lay down. She closed her eyes, but even though she felt weariness tugging at her mind, she doubted she would find sleep.

The sound of soft footsteps on the woolen rug carpeting the ground became her next conscious memory. Before her mind could catch up with her instincts, she slipped her dagger from under the cushion serving as her pillow, and she leveled it toward the threat.

"Peace," Kadar said tiredly, and raised his hand. "It's only me."

Ahna blinked, and her eyes finally focused on Kadar's silhouette. He knelt in front of their few possessions, searching quietly. How long had she been asleep?

Slipping the blade back into its sheath, she repeated out loud, "How long—" but a yawn cut her question short.

"A few hours." He sighed as he said, "The rites have been observed. The burials will be performed once the tribe reaches their consecrated burial ground."

After finding what he had been looking for, Kadar straightened up and headed back toward the exit without a word. Ahna watched him with a puzzled frown. "Where are you going?" she asked. Hadn't he said the funeral rites were over?

"The warriors' tent. I was offered a place to sleep for the rest of the night."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I thought it better that way," he said, although his expression showed uncertainty.

"But—" _Aren't we supposed to be sharing a tent? Being a newly married couple and all—_

"The last thing I want is to impose myself on you further after everything else that's happened."

If she rolled her eyes any harder, Ahna thought she might permanently injure her eyesight. She patted the covers beside her. "There is no need to share your tent with a band of snoring youngsters." She supposed the so-called warriors' tent housed the young unmarried Kanashi fighters. If it was anything like the barracks back home, it would be noisy and possibly smelly.

Kadar visibly hesitated, but then sighed and walked back more slowly. "Aren't you still angry?"

"I am," Ahna said firmly. "There are some things we will need to discuss." He winced, and she wondered if he was rethinking his willingness to stay. "But not tonight," she added. She was exhausted, and he looked even worse.

"Is it about my not pulling out last night?"

Ahna blinked, and it took her a moment to realize what he meant. The ritual. "It's far too late to change it now. I can only wait and see what the future brings." Kadar's baby. Or not. Not every sexual encounter ended in pregnancy.

"I know having my child doesn't appeal to you. If one has been conceived, know that the gates to Zammar's palace will always be open to you. Or you can send for me, if you prefer, and I will take responsibility for the babe."

Ahna's eyebrows shot up. How dared he imply she would want to abandon her own babe!

"It wouldn't be right for me to do otherwise," he added.

Her jaw almost dropped. _Kadar!_ His ridiculous, misguided sense of honor—the same one that insisted on "freeing"her from their marriage—had to be driving this offer. "Kadar, it's a miracle you were ever put in charge of leading men into battle. Or is it only women you have such difficulty reading?"

He looked perplexed.

"You're doing it again," she pointed out, caught between irritation and amusement.

"Doing what?"

"Believing that you know what I think—or want—better than I do myself. Also, it is quite insulting to imply I wouldn't want to take care of my own child."

He opened his mouth into a silent "Oh," but it seemed he had nothing to add. He knew he'd blundered badly. Ahna finally took pity on him, and raising a hand, once again invited him to join her on the bedding. "Truce? It's been a very long two days, and I have no desire to fight with you tonight."

"Truce," he agreed. He sat with a grunt and bent down to take off his boots.

Ahna touched his arm, concerned almost in spite of herself. He looked so tired. "Are you all right? When did you sleep last?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The night before we met Nur." He hesitated just a fraction of a second before he spoke again, as if contemplating his answer. "I will be fine. Burying your men, no matter how many times you are forced to do so, never gets any easier."

"It's not supposed to." At least, she didn't think so. In truth, she felt that she had little experience or wisdom to offer this man—this warrior who'd seen death far more often than she had. Still, she wished she could ease his pain somehow.

"You're right, of course," he said after a long silence. "We lost another man to his wounds this morning. That makes five."

Ahna scooted closer, their legs almost touching. "Tell me about them," she asked, hoping that if he talked about the dead fighters' lives, it would alleviate some of the pain.

Kadar was silent so long, Ahna regretted her question. Finally, he shook himself from his contemplation and said, "I didn't know them well in life, but their spirits travel the desert now. Their bravery won't be forgotten."

Ahna threaded her fingers in his. "I saw one of them. I think he was trying to protect our tent. He was killed in front of me, and I couldn't help him."

Kadar nodded. "Malik. They found him while rounding up the prisoners." He paused, eyes far away. "He was nineteen," he added.

Old enough to fight and die, and yet so young. Ahna cleared her throat. "I'm sorry."

Without a word, Kadar wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, and Ahna laid her head on his shoulder. For a long time, they stayed this way, quietly taking comfort in each other.

With a deep breath, Kadar appeared to cleanse his thoughts, and in a more businesslike voice, he said, "We will leave for Al'Zafyra in the morning. Mounts and a small escort of warriors have been arranged for us. We've been delayed long enough; we need to forge on."

It always came back to his mission in the end. "I understand," she said with a resigned nod.

"Ahna," he started saying, then stopped, guilt darkening his eyes.

"I'm not worried," she lied, forcing herself to smile back at him. "I know I'll only be there for a few weeks at most. I trust you not to leave me there to grow old. You did promise me after all."

Kadar ran his finger down her jawbone to her chin. "Yes, I did." He tilted her chin and captured her lips for a long, lingering kiss. His tongue explored and teased, until Ahna felt like melting against his muscular chest.

When he next came up for air, Kadar was also smiling. "Are you sure this isn't one of those times where I'm reading you wrong?"

"Not unless you get up and leave," Ahna replied, and pulled further from his embrace to pat the bedding. "Come."

Kadar nodded, but his expression had lost some of its haunted quality.

Satisfied that he wouldn't run away again tonight, Ahna settled into the bedding and waited for him to join her. After he shed his tunic, he lay down and wrapped his arm around her middle to pull her close. She felt so right, with her back against his chest, and Ahna felt the last of the day's tension drain away from her. She sighed and slipped her fingers through his, bringing his hand to rest close to her heart.

Kadar flexed his fingers in her grip and palmed her breast, beginning to trace slow circles around her nipple over her clothes with his thumb. Warmth blossomed under her skin, traveling down to her sex in mere moments. "Kadar," she whispered, almost a sigh.

He hummed an acknowledgement under his breath, but stopped neither the exploration with his lips behind her ear, or that of his thumb. Ahna molded herself closer to him, moaning softly. "Kadar," she repeated, her voice growing husky with need.

"Ahna. Girl," he groaned back, and then stopped, his muscles tensing. "We probably shouldn't—"

Annoyance flashed through her. She needed him, and he needed her, or he wouldn't have started this.

"I promised myself that I would give you time to think after the ritual... that I wouldn't rush you," he muttered.

Deliberately, she arched back so her backside ground against his groin. She heard his breath hiss between his teeth, and knew from the size of the bulge that he was aroused.

"Kadar, a truce, remember?"

She took his hand and, without much of a fight from him, led it under her _kamiz_ , to the bare skin of her stomach. Kadar cursed under his breath—Ahna couldn't quite catch the words, but his tone was unmistakable.

"Ahna," he growled in a way that sent shivers down her spine. "One day you'll be the death of me."

With a smile playing on her lips, she turned her head as best she could. "There are worse ways to die, are there not?"

Kadar snorted and silenced her with a crushing, hungry kiss that left her unable to do more than moan. While he did, he slipped his hand down the front of her loose pants, teasing her mons and creating a delicious ache between Ahna's thighs. She parted her legs, and Kadar slid his fingers between her already wet folds. She jerked—a shocking burst of arousal—but her position on her side didn't allow for much freedom of movement. He didn't let her get away, pressing her tighter against him while his fingers feathered against her folds, her clitoris, and finally her entrance.

"Kadar," she groaned, breathless. "Let me—"

Instead of finishing her sentence, she wriggled her hips to indicate she wanted out of the clothes she was wearing. After a moment, he moved his hand, which allowed her to pull down the offending bit of fabric. When she settled back, his erection pressed against her backside, tantalizing her with its closeness. He lifted her knee over his, spreading her legs, and returned his hand to its previous position, torturing her with his slow exploration.

In other circumstances, impatience would have gotten the best of Ahna, and she would have urged him on. But tonight Kadar needed this slower pace. They both did. She wanted to lose herself in him.

Arching her back, she ground herself against him once more. Lost in sensations, their combined moans filled the tent. Perhaps deciding he had teased her enough—or that he could not wait any longer—Kadar moved his hand away, bringing it up to encircle her throat. Not tight, and not enough to cut her airflow, but she found herself quite thoroughly immobilized against him.

With a growl that resembled a purr, Kadar freed his cock from his pants, and thrust into her, filling her completely. She gasped, then groaned. It felt so good. _He_ felt good, and she wanted to lose herself in him, to banish their ghosts and to celebrate the fact they still lived.

Perhaps Kadar's thoughts ran parallel to hers, as his first shallow thrusts grew deeper, and he burrowed his face into her hair.

He proceeded to make slow, leisurely love to her, and that suited her just fine. She was in no hurry either.

Later—it seemed like an eternity, but might have been no more than a few minutes—the sensations he created in her crested. And as she found release, Kadar stiffened with a grunt and quickly slid out to spill his seed into the cushions.

Once able to move, Ahna turned so she could lay her head on his chest.

He dragged the blanket up to her shoulders, and tucked the edge under her chin before wrapping his arms around her. Silently holding her until at last sleep overtook her.

***

Late the next morning, Ahna stood in the shadow of the communal tent and watched as Kadar loaded their desert ponies' saddlebags with supplies for their trek to Al'Zafyra. Her heart constricted in longing as he tossed his head back and laughed. Regretfully, it had taken the rebel attack to loosen his stoic reserve around his family. The painful experience had brought them together in ways Ahna hadn't expected. And now he stood, surrounded by his siblings, his braids tipped in beads clinking as he moved, and seemed relaxed for the first time since they'd arrived.

Kadar turned toward her, ruffling Devdan's hair as he did so. Nur clapped him on the shoulder, and Kadar went back to their discussion.

"Well met, _shdomai-kai,_ " Amar said, stopping at her side.

" _Shdomai-kai_?" she asked, puzzled by the term.

Amar smiled, his sun-battered face wrinkled like an old boot. "My daughter."

"Oh." Ahna didn't know what else to say when the old man looked so proud of that fact.

"Will you walk with me?" he asked, forestalling anything else she could have said.

He gestured for her to follow him and began to walk away. Ahna fell into step beside him and waited, wondering what he wanted to tell her this time. She glanced back to Kadar, but he was still busy with Nur and the ponies and hadn't noticed yet.

"Look at them," Amar started, nodding toward a group of children who were playing nearby. Ahna saw Devdan among them. "They are our future: the future of the tribe and the future of the Kanashi."

She nodded silently.

"A kuo must make many difficult decisions for the good of his people. Unfortunately, some may result in harm for a few, but if done for the greater good, does that make the choice wrong?"

"I don't think so," she answered carefully. "But that does not make you an easy man to like. No one appreciates being manipulated."

He shook his head and sighed. "Someday, Kadar will understand. And when it is his turn to lead our people, he will be faced with the same challenges."

"But, aren't kuos—" Ahna paused to decide on the correct term "—elected? How can you be certain he'll one day succeed you?"

"The Tribes are aware of his military career and his reputation as Champion of Zammar. He is also the personal friend of Zammar's next king. The elders will see the worth in this."

_Did he mean..._ At first, she thought she had to be wrong. Kadar was several years older than Prince Jalen. _Kuo_ Amar couldn't have foreseen it, and yet... Was this why he had agreed to send his own son to Zammar's palace? In the faint hope he would one day become friendly with the ruling family? Would he have gambled his son's life on this?

Nothing in the old man's expression could confirm this new insight. He simply looked thoughtful. "I am but an old man now," he finally told her. "I simply wish for my people to be safe and lack for nothing. This will be my legacy."

"You mean the alliance with Bathu."

"That too, yes. I was prepared to ask you for a letter to your father announcing your marriage to my son, but I believe the rebel leader's knowledge of you will be enough. There is no way King Siddah can deny this union now."

Yes. Ahna had to agree. No matter how hard her father—or Kadar and his irritating sense of honor—might wish otherwise.

By then, they had strolled back toward the Kadar's group. Amar touched her shoulder gently, as a father might to a daughter. " _Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor, shdomai-kai_ ," he said and then walked toward his family congregating near their horses.

He said something to Nur, and then guided Kadar away from the group. Ahna assumed he was saying a private goodbye. Nur, on the other hand, was coming toward her. He stopped in front of her and gave her a quick once-over.

Ahna braced herself, not quite sure what Kadar's prickly brother might do.

"Kadar gave you everything he has," Nur told her in heavily accented Bathan.

She only just kept her mouth from falling open. Surely Kadar would have warned her if he knew Nur spoke something other than Kanashian. But then again, he hadn't known Amar could speak Zammarian. "I don't understand."

Nur glanced over his shoulder, and turning back to her, he explained, "As _kuo-ilk kard-kai_ —first son—he is only permitted one wife. No others. And he gave himself to you."

Her heart sank. She had been afraid of this, especially if they couldn't work out their differences. "No others? Ever?"

He shook his head. "If he is elected kuo or _—i-lıyor aigu goonessi_ —if you walk the desert," he translated after collecting his thoughts, "then he will be permitted to take another." He chanced another look over his shoulder. "We don't agree on many things, but I cannot fault him for his honor or loyalty. Although, it is time he comes back to his people. If appointed, and with you by his side, he will be a strong kuo. I know this."

Nur stopped speaking and his posture stiffened. When Ahna went to ask him another question, he gave her a minute shake of the head.

"Are you ready?" Kadar asked, coming to stand next to them. He gave Nur a questioning look.

" _Shupp'oi, kard-jiru_ ," Nur replied stiffly before leaving.

"And you, brother."

Leading Ahna to the tethered ponies, Kadar shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips.

***

" _Kuo-ilk kard-kai,"_ Neelam—one of three Kanashi escorting them to Al'Zafyra—murmured in greeting, before moving past Kadar.

Kadar twitched an eyebrow at his use of the honorific title. _First Champion of Zammar and now First Son_ , he thought with wry amusement. He'd wanted neither title, but now he sported both. He exhaled the spiced tobacco from his pipe and settled back against a boulder, enjoying a rare chance to relax. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to share the burden of watch duty.

"May I join you?" Ahna asked, interrupting his ruminations. She stood a few step away, wearing Kanashi garb and looking beautiful in it.

"Of course," he replied and gestured for her to sit down.

After a long silence, she said, "I talked with your father this morning, before we left. He called me his daughter."

_Now what is that old fox up to?_ Making sure to keep his tone carefully neutral, he asked, "What did he want to talk to you about?"

She tugged at her long braided hair and exhaled forcefully. "He asked me if it made him a bad man to want to protect his people. I think it was a way for him to apologize for his actions."

"Apologize? That would be a first."

"He's an old man, Kadar, and I don't think he takes any joy in having you hate him."

Kadar sighed, looking deep inside his heart for an answer. "I don't hate him," he finally said. "But I can't love him either. It's been too long and there have been too many betrayals."

She nodded. "I understand."

"What else did he say?"

"Only that the Kanashi delegation to Bathu will also bring my father news of our marriage." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, almost as if she needed to gauge his reaction, before adding, "It would have been impossible to keep this a secret, you know."

She was right, of course, but—he shook himself. His thoughts kept running in circles and this emotional cycle was wearing thin. He needed to push this whole situation out of his mind until he had more time to reflect on it.

Beckoning her closer to him, he settled her back against his chest, and enfolded her in his arms. She felt so right pressed against him, and he entertained, then discarded, the idea of sliding his hands under her _kamiz_ to spread them over her bare breasts. Even knowing their escort would politely ignore any amorous activities occurring in the camp, he didn't relish the idea of an audience. Once had been more than enough. Instead, he moved his hands to her shoulders and started to massage her knotted muscles. "You're tense. What is worrying you? Al'Zafyra?"

She shrugged. "Somewhat. Their reputation is well known, and they severely punish would-be thieves."

"I'm aware of that fact, but I don't plan on being found out," he said lightly, although he knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"What is your plan, then?"

"I escort you to Al'Zafyra and we gain entry. Once inside, they will probably separate us, as you are destined to enter their ranks and I am only your bodyguard."

"Undoubtedly. And then what?"

Several plans were going through his mind while he spoke. "I'll probably be kept away from the devoted and given a few days at most to recuperate before I'm sent on my way again. While I'm there, I hope to obtain an audience with their high priest. I have with me an official letter from Jalen requesting their cooperation. Hopefully, it's all that will be needed and I won't have to figure out another way."

Ahna turned her head to look at him, and she quirked an eyebrow. "Can this really work?"

"I frankly doubt it, but you never know. It needs to be tried before I become a thief."

"And what if it doesn't work?"

"That's where you can help. As a supplicant, you should have greater access to the compound than I." Kadar paused, and brushed hair from her cheek, letting it cascade through his fingers. Her hair smelled faintly of woodsmoke, sunshine, and desert-grass perfume. The scent was as intoxicating as the liquor made from the same ingredient. "While I determine the best ways in and out of the monastery, you'll search for Sadie's books."

"What do I look for?"

"They are in her ancestor's language. _Miotais, Finscéalta agus Draíocht, Luibheanna Íocshláinte agus a n-Só leigheas,_ and _Na Déithe Só leigheas: A Cneasaigh Treoir._ " He hoped he'd pronounced them correctly. The words did not flow easily. "I will give you a written list."

"I hope you realize your plan is full of holes."

He agreed, but he wouldn't know exactly what needed to be done until they arrived to the monastery. "It'll be fine."

Ahna snorted. "A wish in one hand."

_And shit in the other,_ he finished for her.

#  Chapter 14

Al'Zafyra loomed in the distance. Foreboding. Like a displeased parent looking down in disappointment to the valley below. Ahna brushed a strand of hair from her face and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Glancing at Kadar sitting on his desert pony, she mentally groused that he didn't look the least bit uncomfortable in the oppressive heat. But then, he was more used to it, she assumed.

He quirked an eyebrow when he caught her staring. "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

Kadar urged his mount forward, and the two of them made their way toward the entrance gate. Their Kanashi escort had dismantled their modest campsite that morning and were even now making their way back to Amar's tribe.

As they made their way up the road leading to the monastery, she admired Kadar's unaffected stance. Gone was the tension she'd noticed while he was around the Kanashi, and instead he looked almost unconcerned. But Ahna knew it was most probably a facade, an illusion, much like his seemingly ignoring the heat. He held his duties far too dear, and she understood that saving Prince Jalen weighed heavily on him.

Eventually they reached the massive stone wall surrounding the monastery, and Kadar dismounted. Coming to her side, he offered to help her down. Ahna refused with a slight wave of her hand, but smiled to show she still appreciated his attempt at chivalry.

"Remember, they will probably separate us and strive to keep us apart, as devotees aren't supposed to fraternize with outsiders. Keep your eyes open though, and on the eve of the day after next, we'll meet and finalize our strategy," Kadar said quietly, probably for fear of being overheard.

"Where?" she asked. How could they manage to meet if they were kept separated?

"Don't worry, I'll find you."

She nodded.

"Ahna?" His gaze searched hers.

She licked her parched lips and his eyes dropped to the movement. What if they still couldn't rendezvous? "I don't like it," she said. "There are too many ways this can go wrong."

"We will succeed. We will get the tomes. And I _will_ come back for you."

She tried to summon a smile for him, but it died before it could reach her eyes. She shuddered with a weird sense of foreboding. If she let him leave without her, would he ever come back?

Kadar cupped her cheek in his hand, and leaned in to brush his lips against hers. The light tantalizing touch curled her toes in a surge of desire. Ahna wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, pushing her tongue along the seam of his lips. He groaned in surrender and deepened the kiss. The hand on her cheek moved up and tangled in her hair, holding her close. After a moment, he dragged his mouth away and took a ragged breath. "It's going to be agony without you by my side," he said in a strangled whisper. The words were so soft Ahna wasn't certain he even meant to say them out loud. They sent a sharp pang of longing through her, regardless.

He gave her a tender look, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and finally backed away. Ahna marveled at the transformation. In those tiny steps, he went from the affectionate husband—lover—she was starting to discover, back to the cold, unreadable captain of Prince Jalen's personal guard. He turned his back to her, rapped on the wooden door, and snapped to attention.

Sadness tugged at Ahna's heart, and she forced herself to shake it off. Now wasn't the time for sentimentality. She faced the gate as it pulled open. Before she could declare herself to the monastery guard, Kadar announced, "Princess Ahnanti and her escort."

The guard glanced curiously at Kadar, who stood beside her in the Zammarian military uniform he had donned earlier that morning. His expression turned even more puzzled when he saw the Kanashi warrior tattoo and traditional beaded braids he still wore. Then, the guard's attention turned to her, and he looked her up and down. As she still wore the comfortable Kanashi travel clothes she had been given before leaving the tribe, she assumed she made for a strange sight.

After what seemed like forever, the guard nodded, appearing satisfied by what he saw. His attention returned to Kadar, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. Ahna tensed. What now?

She couldn't tell by the guard's expression what he might be thinking. _Horse piss!_ It would ruin their plans—sketchy as they were—if the man denied Kadar access to the monastery. She had to do something quickly. Summoning her haughtiest tone, she said. "My escort and I were attacked on the way to the monastery. This man—" She hesitated, uncertain if Kadar wanted his name revealed. As he made no move to introduce himself, she concluded he preferred anonymity. "—This soldier from the Zammarian army saved my life and was kind enough to escort me the rest of the way."

"We are aware of the fate of your convoy," the guard answered flatly. "One of our scouts discovered their remains on the canyon road some days ago. As your body was not found, we concluded you had been taken prisoner. We did not expect your arrival anymore."

Ahna waved her hand. "Well, here I am."

The guard's eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, but in the end, he stepped aside and waved them in. "I will take you to speak with the head priestess."

Ahna nodded curtly and swept inside, not waiting for Kadar to take the lead.

***

Kadar looked over the guard's shoulder as he brought them to what appeared to be a small sitting room. It was sparsely furnished, and its only window too small to offer more than a hint of sunlight. On the other hand, the thick stone walls partially protected the interior from the stifling heat outside. With a gesture, the guard waved to a chair and said, " _Kaleras_ Ahnanti, please have a seat. The head priestess will be with you momentarily."

_Kaleras..._ A devotee to the Thousand Spirits. Kadar saw Ahna flinch at the man's use of the term, but she didn't comment. She instead gave him a curt nod, and marched toward the chair where she sat with her hands sagely crossed on her lap. Still, one of her feet started rhythmically tapping on the floor almost immediately.

The guard turned back to Kadar. "This way."

"No," Kadar said, stopping him. "I am to wait with the princess." He wasn't yet ready to be parted with her. It might be illogical in the extreme, but he wanted to reassure himself that she would be fine after her talk with the head priestess.

"That is impossible. You have done your duty by the kaleras and the high priest will want to talk to you."

Kadar glanced at Ahna. She returned his look and waved her hand, effectively dismissing him.

"Follow me," the guard commanded.

He didn't like leaving her alone, but saw no way to delay his departure any longer. And then, he did need to talk to the high priest. Kadar nodded back to Ahna and turned on his heel to follow the guard away from the room.

While they walked, the guard asked, "What is your name, soldier?"

Kadar patted his pocket where the note from Jalen still resided, and answered the man truthfully. "Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar." As soon as he met with the high priest the monastery would know who he was anyway, so he saw no reason to try to hide his identity.

"Well, son of Amar, the high priest will certainly be interested in how you came to be escorting Princess Ahnanti."

Kadar grunted noncommittally. The guard gave him a sharp look but didn't try to pry further.

They walked in silence for a few more moments before entering a second, similarly set up parlor. "Feel free to sit," the guard offered. "I will inform the high priest of your arrival. He should meet with you shortly." And with a final nod, the man turned and left Kadar alone in the room.

He didn't have to wait long before a door opened to what Kadar presumed to be the high priest's inner sanctum, and another guard beckoned him forward.

Kadar eyed him as he entered.

The young man held himself differently than the guard who had greeted them at the gates. Everything from his watchful posture to his calculating gaze radiated deadly competence. The long curved scimitar sheathed at his hip, with its practical and well-used leather-covered hilt, spoke of years of repeated use. _Aijeleth._ Kadar was sure of it. One of Al'Zafyra elite warriors, and one the men he would be obliged to dodge if he ended up needing to steal Sadie's books.

The aijeleth closed the door behind him and took up position with his back to the wall and one hand on his weapon. Kadar forced his attention away from this threat at his back and turned it to the high priest, who sat behind a well-worn desk.

The high priest studied him, taking in his Kanashi braids, tattoo, and Zammarian uniform. His gaze lingered on his rank distinctions for a while, and then he raised an eyebrow.

"So the Champion of Zammar graces us with his presence. Your reputation precedes you."

Kadar did not respond.

The high priest steepled his hands on his desk. "Kaleros Nergui tells me you arrived with the princess."

"This is correct, Most Reverend."

"And yet I cannot fathom why Prince Jalen of Zammar's Champion would be roaming the desert without a specific goal in mind." The high priest stared at Kadar as if his gaze could plumb Kadar's deepest thoughts. "Why are you here?"

In answer, Kadar reached for the royal proclamation in his pocket, but the whisper of a blade being pulled from its scabbard made him stop and take a step aside so he could face his foe. He met the aijeleth's threatening posture with a glare, and moved his hand to the hilt his own weapon.

"Put your weapon away, Aijeleth Eoin," the high priest call out to Eoin in aggravation. "He is not a threat... yet."

Although he looked terribly unhappy at the rebuff, Aijeleth Eoin retracted his blade and returned to his post.

The high priest refocused on Kadar. "Please continue, Champion."

With a nod, Kadar finished retrieving the letter from his pocket and handed it to the high priest with a slight bow. "From His Highness, Prince Jalen 'Anaq Al-Jameyri of Zammar."

His hope of a quick resolution rested in the wording of Jalen's request. Before Kadar embarked on his mission, they had discussed at length the difficulty of proving the theft of Sadie's books. Without a clear way to confirm her prior ownership, they decided that asking for a copy of the required spells was a satisfactory substitute to retrieving the books themselves. Now, all they needed was for the high priest to agree.

The man looked at Kadar as he broke the royal seal and opened the folded parchment. He read its contents carefully, before setting it aside and shaking his head. "No."

The word clapped like thunder in the room. Clenching his jaw, Kadar repeated, "No?"

"That is correct. Our library is a sacred repository of knowledge. I cannot let someone such as yourself destroy its integrity with such a futile search."

"I only ask that one of your people search for the books and copy the information I seek. The books need not ever leave the library again." Although Kadar was not a man to beg, he added, "I appeal to your compassion. The prince's life is at stake."

"That is not my concern."

Kadar gritted his teeth but forged on. "It will be if there is war declared over the succession."

"Not as much as you may think. We can defend our own."

"Your monastery borders three kingdoms. You will be caught in the middle and may not survive." It was a desperate tactic. He knew how well-protected the monastery was by its geographical location, and how easily it could be defended from external threats.

"We have survived far worse," the high priest replied flatly. "I commend you for your loyalty to Zammar. Unfortunately, the books you seek are now in the hands of the Thousand Spirits and there they will remain. I cannot help you any further."

"I see," Kadar replied through his teeth. "There is nothing else to be discussed in this case. I will take my leave." He bowed his head stiffly.

The high priest nodded. "One thing perhaps, before you leave. Rumors of your skill with a blade have reached even my ears, Champion. You would make a good aijeleth. Would you consider it?"

Kadar snorted none too softly. "No. I am not a religious man, Most Reverend. My duty is to Zammar."

The high priest nodded again, as if he expected that answer. Speaking to Eoin over Kadar's shoulder, he said, "Please show the Champion of Zammar to his room. It should be prepared by now." Refocusing on Kadar, he dismissed him with a curt nod. "May the Thousand Spirits guide you. A good day."

Kadar acknowledged the dismissal, turned on his heel and followed Eoin out of the room.

***

"Come with me," the female kaleras said in a high-pitched, nasal voice that grated on Ahna's nerves. Ahna followed her nonetheless.

As they walked along an interior courtyard, Ahna caught sight of Kadar walking in the other direction, following behind a tall man wearing a long curved sword. "Who is that man?"

"Eoin?" the woman replied. "He only just joined the order, but I've watched him in the training yard. He shows great promise as an aijeleth."

Ahna fidgeted with the new kaleras robe in her arms. This didn't bode well for Kadar. "How many aijeleth are housed inside the monastery?" She hoped her voice didn't betray more than cursory interest and that nothing else showed in her expression.

The woman tittered like a young girl. "One is all you need, no?" she replied, but then sobered. "The high priest is very selective. We only have ten aijeleth in the whole monastery, but usually at least half of them are away on missions for the Thousand Spirits."

Even for Kadar, facing ten aijeleth would mean certain death. Ahna swallowed nervously and took a deep breath before she spoke again. "How often are all the aijeleth congregated here?"

Ahna almost bumped into the woman when she stopped abruptly and looked at her. "Why?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"It must be a sight to see them all training together," Ahna improvised. It was the first thing she came up with under the other supplicant's scrutiny.

The woman's shoulders relaxed. "Yes," she said in the same grating voice, its tone turned dreamy. "They are. Twice a year the aijeleth are required to return to Al'Zafyra. The rest of the year, those not tasked with protecting the monastery scour the land in search of knowledge. You know we have the best library in the three kingdoms?"

"So I've heard," Ahna replied dryly.

Her guide ignored her response. "Your room will be on the second floor. We take our meals over there," she said, waving her arm to indicate the room in question, and then resumed walking. "The head priestess or her assistant usually give us our daily assignments. Most assuredly you will be working in the kitchen and gardens. That's where they put everyone at first. Although, the head priestess _may_ make an exception for you." She sniffed in apparent disdain.

Unsure why the young woman took exception with her, Ahna decided to change the subject. "What is your name?"

The young woman sniffed again, but finally answered, "Konani. _Kaleras_ Konani."

Surprised, Ahna asked, "Bathan?" She didn't have the typical coloring of a native.

"Yes," Konani acknowledged, and then fell silent. She brought them up some service stairs and down a shadowy corridor. At the end of the hall, Konani opened a narrow door. "Your room," she said with a flourish. Turning toward Ahna, she boldly kept eye contact, curtseyed, and said, "Welcome to Al'Zafyra, Your Highness."

Ahna clenched her teeth to keep from snipping at the woman. Konani had acknowledged Ahna's rank in the most insulting way possible. The next few days would seriously try Ahna's patience if today was an indicator of how things would progress. Struggling with her irritation, she thanked Konani.

Konani nodded. "I will come for you at the dinner hour."

"Very well," Ahna retorted, and entered her new room, letting the door click closed behind her.

Marching over to the small bed in the corner, she tossed her kaleras robe onto it, and turned to survey her new quarters. The room looked no bigger than the cells in her father's dungeon, and just as cheerless. Aside from the small bed under the lone window and an old wicker chair, the only other features were a tiny hearth—barely large enough to warm the room at night—and a chamber pot in a corner.

Ahna heaved a huge sigh. What a depressing little room. Hopefully she wouldn't spend much time inside it. She yanked her Kanashi _kamiz_ over her head, her thoughts returning to the problem at hand. Once she was dressed appropriately, she needed to try to find this "best library in the three kingdoms" before Konani came to retrieve her for the evening meal.

***

Later that day, Ahna found herself standing at a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The sound of flesh striking flesh and the clank of blunted steel blades had drawn her—and several others—from their tasks to witness the spectacle below. Glancing at the small assembly of women, Ahna studied their reactions. Predictably, the younger _kaleras_ enjoyed the show of masculine strength playing out in the training ring, but the sisters affected to not notice the warriors, at least not directly. Nonetheless, Ahna saw their surreptitious glances as they pretended to not watch the men sparring.

Ahna felt no such compunction. Letting her gaze drop to the lower level, she observed Kadar sparring with the guard who had first greeted them at the gates. She wondered if it was wise for him to demonstrate to everyone watching the extent of his skills. She noted Eoin, half-hidden in the shadows next to a fellow _aijeleth_ , looking particularly interested in the practice bout.

Kadar floated lightly on the balls of his feet as he danced around his opponent. Both men were stripped to the waist and fought unarmed. She winced sympathetically when Kadar took a punch to the ribs that almost bent him in half.

"Your guard is very skilled—too skilled to be a simple Kanashi warrior conscripted into the Zammarian army. Is what they say true?" Konani asked as she joined Ahna on the balcony. "Is he really the Champion of Zammar?"

Ahna slanted Konani a glance and shrugged.

Konani draped her arms over the railing and looked down on the men fighting, drawing Ahna's attention back to Kadar. He now held a practice sword and was fending off the double blade attack of his sparring partner.

"I think it must be him," Konani continued. "How many Kanashi-born soldiers also openly wear a Zammar sun on their skin?" She sighed. "He's a handsome man."

Ahna didn't expect the flare of jealousy that those words caused. She glared at Konani's back when the woman's attention returned to the fighters.

"Oh," Konani whispered after a minute, sounding awed.

Ahna barely schooled her features before Konani turned back to her. "Your guard just defeated Nergui." Ahna glanced back to Kadar, who was graciously helping Nergui up from the ground. He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. She imagined him imparting a suggestion and a few encouraging words, and felt a pang of longing. She firmed her shoulders, and shoved the thought aside. The Thousand Spirits only knew what the punishment would be if she acted on her desire.

She was about to leave the balcony for her room when Eoin stepped away from the shadows. She was too far away to hear what he said to Kadar, but Kadar nodded and grabbed his shirt from the stone bench next to the stairwell. He shrugged it on and followed Eoin out of the courtyard. Ahna kept her eyes trained on the two of them until he disappeared from sight.

With a deep sigh, she pushed away from the rail and went back to the task assigned to her.

***

Ahna sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her brow. Her forearm came back muddy, and she groaned. Working in the garden would be so much easier if she could wear anything but that heavy and stifling kaleras robe, which tangled in her feet every time she tried to get up. She'd give half of Bathu right now to change into the Kanashi garment she'd been wearing when she arrived.

She sighed and bent back to her task of tending the vegetable garden beds. Like the Kanashi, Al'Zafyra suffered somewhat from the drought. The monastery had the advantage of being built over an underground aquifer, and deep wells provided its inhabitants with water. Still, making anything grow in the parched soil demanded dedication and a back-breaking amount of work. Kaleras like herself were tasked with that work.

Tonight she needed to talk to Kadar. They had both been here two days already, and she doubted he would be allowed to stay much longer. What were they going to do? She'd yet to be given more than a few minutes to herself to explore, and she hadn't found the library—or even its general location.

_"Kaleras_ Ahnanti?" a man called out to her.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, Ahna looked up to find Kaleros Nergui standing above her. She nodded at him.

"You are released from duty for today."

_Oh, thank the Thousand Spirits,_ she nearly blurted.

Instead, she stood with a tired groan and thanked him. The cool shade of the hallways called to her, and she hustled forward, stopping to touch her warm forehead to the cold stones, relishing the way they seemed to suck the heat from her. After a moment's rest, she plucked at her robe to fan her overheated skin, and began the trek back to her room. She would wash quickly and then resume her search for the library before the evening meal. It didn't leave her much time.

It took a moment before the sound of male voices penetrated the fog in her mind and snapped her out of her reverie. She pulled back behind a corner when she recognized the one who was speaking. Aijeleth __ Eoin. She didn't want to cross paths with him. He scared her.

"You fought well, Champion," Eoin was saying.

_Kadar?_ Ahna's heart skipped a beat.

"And you also," Kadar replied dryly.

Ahna peaked around the corner, but couldn't quite catch sight of Kadar from where she stood.

"Few people are a challenge to me anymore. You would make a formidable _aijeleth_. Will you not reconsider it?"

"No."

"Very well," Eoin replied with a shrug. "The most reverend's offer still stands if you change your mind. May the Thousand Spirits guide you."

"And you."

Ahna waited until she could no longer hear Eoin's footsteps echoing away and then peeked around the corner again. Relief washed through her when she saw Kadar still leaning against a pillar, dabbing a rag to his cheek. She hadn't been certain if he was still there.

Ahna stepped away from her hiding spot just as he pulled the cloth away from his face with a grimace. "Are you hurt?" she blurted.

His eyes lifted to meet hers and the edges crinkled as he smiled. "I am not as young as I used to be," he mused out loud, then said, "Good evening, Kaleras Ahnanti." He beckoned her closer. The warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.

Each step sent anticipation coursing through her. How she longed to pull his face to hers and kiss him breathless. Yet, she stopped well away from him, mindful that they might be watched.

"You are a hard woman to find," Kadar remarked.

It was true. The head priestess had kept her busy these past two days. "I've been busy," she replied.

Kadar nodded. "Kaleras Ahnanti, would you like to walk with me?"

Ahna quirked an eyebrow at his overly formal tone, but fell into step beside him. They walked in silence, until they reached the end of the hallway. There they stopped, and she spoke to dissipate her unease. "Are they treating you well?"

"Reasonably well. However, I have been informed that I am to leave tomorrow after dawn."

"I see." It didn't come as a surprise of course, but it still felt too soon to her.

"Did you get your audience with the high priest?"

"Yes, I did the day we arrived." Then, he shook his head without another word and Ahna concluded that the result of that discussion had been negative. Their backup plan was still in effect.

_But if that is the case..._ "Do you think it wise to call attention to yourself? You were sparring with _Aijeleth_ Eoin, weren't you?"

"He has been watching me since that first day, so I thought it prudent to satisfy his curiosity."

_Oh..._ "I thought you would want to keep your skills a secret."

Kadar's lips quirked. "It was impossible to do so. My reputation precedes me."

"The kaleras were certainly more than happy to watch the Champion of Zammar training shirtless yesterday," she said tartly. She tried—the Thousand Spirits knew she tried— to hide it, but jealousy still colored her words.

"Ahna," Kadar whispered, drawing Ahna's attention back to him. He opened the door closest to where they stood, confirmed it was empty, before catching her hand and pulling her inside. "Come here."

Ahna had just time enough to catch a glimpse of the small storage room before Kadar closed the door on them, trapping them in semi-darkness. "Kadar, what are you doing?" she whispered.

Without a word, Kadar grabbed her shoulders and pulled her forward to crush her lips against his. Hungrily, he plundered her mouth, leaving her breathless and with need growing low in her stomach.

"Don't you start something you're not willing to finish," she warned him when he pulled away.

"I'm not," he said, before capturing her lips again.

Ahna's heartbeat accelerated, and heat sparked through her. She knew it wasn't right, knew beyond a doubt that they were in danger of being caught together, but she didn't care.

"You like living dangerously, Champion."

His lust-filled groan instantly awakened every nerve in her body. "Only because of you," he said, backing her against the wall with his body flush against hers. "I need you," he added, and his admission thrilled her like nothing else had.

He leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, and a raw need coursed through her. When he dragged his mouth away from hers at last, he panted. "What's under your robes?"

She flushed. "Just my smallclothes."

"Take them off," he ordered, and a jolt of pleasure traced a path down her spine straight to her sex. She didn't wait for him to ask again, and wiggled out of the undergarment, letting it pool around her ankles.

Once again, Kadar pressed her against the wall and kissed her. Ahna curled her fingers in his hair, making the beads clink against each other.

He abandoned her lips for new kissable places along her neck, and he pulled the cowl of the robe aside to leave little nibbles along her collarbone. "Put your legs around me, Ahna," he growled in her ear, and lifted her into his arms. Ahna was more than happy to comply. She hooked her ankles at his back, her heels dug into his tight ass, and she pulled him closer.

Holding her in place with his weight, he tugged her robe up around her hips. His fingers teased the back of her thighs. She was so wet, and she ached for him to fill her. "Kadar..."

"Yes," he breathed, his voice husky with arousal.

"We don't have time for games. I need you," she begged him. "Now."

His breath hitched as he shifted his weight to press more fully against her. His hand left her thigh to free his cock from his pants. "I hope you're ready for me."

Ahna nodded. She couldn't be more ready than she was at that moment.

Kadar grabbed her ass with both hands to lift her higher, and in one glorious thrust, he filled her completely. Ahna bit her lip to stifle her moan, conscious of the need to stay quiet. He then pumped his hips, making sure to drag his length against her sensitive bud with every thrust. It wouldn't take long, she thought. Already she could feel her lower belly coiling as she drew closer to release. "Don't stop," she hissed. _Just a little more._

With a groan, Kadar leaned his head forward and clamped his teeth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The sudden sharp pain was Ahna's undoing. Throwing her arms against the wall as if to anchor herself in the here and now, she let the waves of pleasure wrack her body. Each shudder threatened to tear a scream of pleasure from her lips.

Before her orgasm was even finished, Kadar groaned and pulled out from her body. With his face still buried in her neck, he pumped his hips twice more along the seam of her sex. Ahna held him tight as his muscles locked and he shook from the intensity of his release.

It felt like hours went by, but finally Kadar lowered her feet to the ground. Her robes settled around her ankles, and after she donned her smallclothes, he grabbed her waist and pulled her close again to kiss away their passion. When they came up for air, he rested his forehead against hers. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Ahna shook her head.

"Good."

They stood there quietly, sharing in each other's space. Finally, reluctantly, Ahna interrupted the silence. "I couldn't find the library," she admitted. "They left me no time to explore on my own."

"I figured," Kadar said softly. "It's in the same wing as the aijeleth's quarters, guarded by at least one aijeleth day and night." That sounded ominous, but then Kadar continued, "It doesn't look like it's closed to everyone though. I've seen both kalerii and devotees come in and out freely." He gave her a quick smile. "I've been keeping an eye on things."

"What do we do now? Do you still want me to try to steal the books?"

"No, it's too dangerous with the aijeleth guarding the library at all times. Instead, the best solution is probably to copy the texts." Kadar opened a pouch tied at his waist and took out a small piece of parchment. "Look for any mention of these words _gaineamh aistriú._ Copy everything you find. We want to avoid stealing the books themselves if we can help it. I will return in two weeks' time. Meet me in the garden after the _en_ hour bells have rung."

"The garden?"

"The rampart is lower there."

Ahna nodded doubtfully. When did he expect her to have the time or opportunity to do this? "I'll do my best."

Looking down at the piece of parchment in her hand, Ahna swallowed hard. At least she now knew what exactly to look for. Still, it felt like an insurmountable task.

"I have faith," Kadar whispered, and pulled her close for another kiss. His lips were silky smooth against hers. Breaking the kiss, he stepped back, and tugged at her robes to help her straighten them. His gentle smile faded at the sight of something behind her.

Her heart pounded in sudden fear. Had they been discovered? "What is it?"

"You'll have to be careful for a few days."

"Why?"

His expression turned sheepish, and he touched a tender spot at the juncture of her neck and collarbone. "I was slightly more enthusiastic than I intended. I didn't mean to leave a mark."

"Oh." She chuckled and threw her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He resisted for a moment, but then let her lower his head to hers. Ahna brushed her lips against his.

"Just be careful the head priestess does not see it before it heals."

Ahna nodded solemnly. "Of course."

Kadar glanced around the room. He reached down and grabbed a wooden bucket from the floor. "Take it."

She quirked an eyebrow, and took it from him.

"Your excuse for being in a storeroom should anyone see you leave. I will wait a few moments and exit after you."

Ahna didn't want to say goodbye. She pulled the door open and looked at him one more time over her shoulder before leaving the room and Kadar behind.

#  Chapter 15

Ahna looked around the darkened courtyard, checking for monastery guards or the aijeleth. She didn't have much time. The bell calling devotees to their rooms for final prayers and quiet reflection would sound within the hour, and she still needed to enter the library, locate the books, and begin copying the texts Kadar specified.

She had to try. Tonight. Who knew when she'd get another chance?

Especially since she'd lost an entire week already. The head priestess or her assistant had kept Ahna so busy during the day that she could do little more than fall in bed exhausted each evening. She also had the nagging feeling this was no mere coincidence, and neither was the fact Kaleras Konani dogged her every footstep.

She glanced around the courtyard one last time and made a dash for the other side. From there, a door connected to an arched portico leading toward the barracks and her goal for tonight. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and she told herself repeatedly that there was no reason for her to be scared. She was simply going to visit the library, nothing more. She wasn't a thief; she was just looking for some night reading.

After she reached the other side, she slowed and pulled up the hood of the plain wool robes all inhabitants of the monastery wore, and made a face. _This will never work,_ she fretted. She didn't know how long it would take her to copy the information Kadar needed, but she doubted a single evening would be enough. The possibility of failing him scared her just as much as the thought of facing the aijeleth, if not more.

A few heartbeats later, Ahna arrived at an intersection. To her right, the door leading to the aijeleth communal quarters loomed. On her left, the library awaited. She hoped Kadar was right, and that only one man guarded the doors at this time of the evening.

_If only I could be that lucky_ , she groused mentally. She'd concocted a story about one of the sisters having requested she copy information from some of the library's tomes, but the chances of such a tall tale being believed were less than good.

Ahna shook her head. She couldn't think this way, not if she was to succeed. _Well, here goes nothing..._

She took a step forward.

"Can I help you with something, Kaleras Ahnanti?" a cold, cold voice asked from behind her.

Ahna's heart skidded to a stop, before starting again in a staccato of anxiety. She whipped around and came face to face with Aijeleth Eoin, fully armed and fully awake.

"I— Aijeleth Eoin. How... surprising to meet you here at this hour. I thought I was the only one suffering from insomnia."

And how inconvenient for her. His hard expression and hooded eyes said very clearly that he wasn't impressed by her attempt at levity.

"Insomnia, Kaleras?" he said flatly.

"Well, yes." She forced her mouth into a semblance of a smile despite the sick feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. "I thought that maybe a bit of reading would help," she blurted, her original plan forgotten. "You see, when I was at my father's palace, I used to spend a great deal of time in our family library, and I thought..." She let her sentence hang unfinished, and did her best to look innocent and perhaps even a little vapid. As a princess raised in luxury, she hoped her show of naivete would be enough to allay Eoin's suspicions.

His expression, however, didn't change one iota. Nor did he move. Instead, he kept watching her, expressionless, until she wanted to squirm. She would have too, if not for the fact she refused to feel guilty.

"First-year kalerii aren't allowed access to the library unless granted special permission by the high priest or head priestess. Your name isn't on that list, __ Kaleras __ Ahnanti."

He pinned her with a cold glare, and she watched his hand draw closer to his weapon. He didn't believe her, she thought, trying to keep her panic at bay.

In desperation, she tried to continue playing the entitled princess, hoping it would convince him she was no threat to the monastery or their library. "I am a princess of Bathu," she announced, giving her voice the inflections of someone not used to being told no. "Surely an exception can be made. My father paid this monastery enough—"

Eoin didn't let her finish. "No."

"No?"

It was getting harder to keep up her facade, as it seemed like he would have none of it.

"No," he repeated a second time.

Ahna thought about pouting, but then she doubted the expression would work as intended. If anything, her attempts to look non-threatening appeared to be making him leery.

Or perhaps Eoin simply had a suspicious mind.

"Now, shall I accompany you back to your room, Kaleras Ahnanti?" he asked, tone utterly polite but edged like fine steel.

Ahna didn't want to accept his offer, but she doubted she had any choice in the matter. Another day lost. At this rate, Kadar would return before she found a way inside the library, much less have time to copy those texts.

"All right, Aijeleth Eoin," she finally said. "Thank you."

He inclined his head and gestured back the way she'd come. He kept pace beside her as she retraced her path toward her room. They walked in silence, Eoin a looming presence at her side. Several times, Ahna opened her mouth, on the verge of asking him to reconsider, but each time, she closed it again before she said anything.

In the end, they stopped in front of her door without having exchanged a single word. Eoin opened it for her and stood there, waiting for her to walk inside. With a suppressed sigh, Ahna did so, then turned to face him.

"This really wasn't necessary," she said.

"Devotees shouldn't be roaming the monastery grounds so late, Kaleras Ahnanti. I sincerely hope we do not meet under such circumstances again."

"You truly are a mistrustful man, Aijeleth Eoin."

Eoin smiled a bit at this. "It is my sworn duty to protect this monastery and its knowledge."

She didn't miss the warning in his tone. "I don't doubt it, _Aijeleth_ Eoin."

"May the Thousand Spirits guide you, Kaleras Ahnanti."

"And you. Good night"

***

The next day, Ahna took advantage of a short lull in between tasks to make her way to the head priestess's rooms—the same rooms where she had met her that first day. As the library could only be accessed by special authorization, she saw no other solution but to ask for one.

Fortunately, when she arrived, the head priestess was in and working at her desk, going over some letters. The middle-aged, slightly overweight woman looked up at her and frowned. Ahna figured kalerii didn't usually interrupt the head priestess at her work.

"Kaleras Ahnanti, what can I do for you today?" the woman asked as she put the parchment she was holding down on her desk. Her tone, although friendly enough, said not to waste her time anymore than strictly necessary.

Ahna took a deep breath and started, "I was told the only way to enter Al'Zafyra's library is to ask for your permission first."

The head priestess raised her eyebrows. "The library? Why do you want access to the library?"

Ahna gave her her best smile. "While I was living in the palace, I used to spend hours in the library." A small lie, but she thought it sounded plausible. "I miss it," she concluded, letting her voice crack toward the end. Let the head priestess think she was homesick.

The head priestess's expression softened. "I see." For a moment Ahna thought she might have managed to convince her. "Unfortunately, our library is nothing like the one you had in Bathu. The information it contains is rare and sacred—and can sometimes be dangerous. I'm afraid no first-year kalerii should be given access to it."

"Most Reverend, I beg—"

"No need for begging," she interrupted with a slight frown. "It won't work here. You are not a princess anymore, Kaleras Ahnanti." Then her expression softened again. "If you are still interested in the library and show me that you are worthy of it, in a few months, I will reconsider. For now, do your assigned tasks to the best of your capacity."

A few months? She didn't have a few months. Ahna refrained from cursing in front of the head priestess, but barely. "I understand, Most Reverend. Thank you," she managed to utter between her gritted teeth.

"Good. Please return to your work now, Kaleras Ahnanti. May the Thousand Spirits guide you."

"And you."

How was Ahna going to explain her failure to Kadar now? She needed to think of an alternate solution. Another one.

***

Slinking through the shadows, Ahna inched her way toward the walled garden where Kadar had told her to meet him at the _en_ hour. Echoes from the evening's prayers still resonated around the monastery, although the devotees had all returned to their rooms for the night.

She shivered and hugged the spare kaleros robe tight against her body. The nape of her neck prickled uncomfortably, and she felt watched even though she had taken all sort of precautions to stay hidden from view. Nerves, she told herself. There was no one else walking around the monastery at this hour of the night.

When she turned the last corner and stepped into the garden, Ahna breathed a sigh of relief. She'd made it this far without being discovered. Of course it helped that her shadow, _Kaleras_ Konani, needed to sleep sometime.

The garden stood empty and silent, and Ahna debated whether or not she should call out to Kadar. What if something had gone wrong and he wasn't able come back? What would she do then? Her nervousness increased with each passing minute without sign of Kadar. She wanted to pace, but stifled the urge. She better stay in the shadows, in case someone glanced into the garden from one of the windows.

A thud, the sound of a body hitting the ground from some height, warned her she wasn't alone. She searched the darkness greedily, until her eyes fell on the darker shape of a man just getting back to his feet from a crouching position.

"Kadar," she called out softly to catch his attention. "Here."

After one last look around, Kadar hurried to the patch of darker shadows she occupied. When he reached her, she dithered between embracing him in relief at seeing him again and staying focused on their goal for the night. He cut through her dilemma when grabbed her and hugged her tight for a short moment, before letting go and stepping back to give her a thorough once-over. Only then did he speak.

"Are you well?" Kadar's whispered words caressed Ahna's ears like the finest of silk.

"I am," she replied just as quietly. "And you?"

"As well as I can be."

She took time to observe him too. His current expression told her little of his state of mind, but he seemed relaxed enough despite the possible dangers they faced tonight. Before she could think too deeply about her actions, she lifted up on tiptoes to brush her lips against his and said, "I missed you."

Kadar nodded without a word, but brushed a stray strand of her hair from her cheek, the tender gesture bringing an ache to her chest. She looked up at him. Now that he was here, she had to admit to her failure.

"I couldn't get inside the library," she said before she lost her nerve. "I tried, but they wouldn't let me in."

Kadar grew tense at the news but he kept quiet, letting her continue.

"I was stopped by Aijeleth Eoin when I tried it. He said first-year kalerii are not permitted access to the library unless they have special permission. I went to see the head priestess the next day, but she refused to grant it. She said the library contained too much dangerous information, but I suspect the real reason is my association with you. Of course, I can't prove this one way or the other."

"I see. I was afraid of that," he said after a short silence.

"I'm sorry." She handed him the spare robe. ""We'll have to find a way to get inside tonight and steal your books after all." Remembering the head priestess's words, she added, "Unless you can wait for several months. Then maybe I can get access."

Kadar took the robe from her and shook his head. "I can't."

"Then it's settled. It needs to happen tonight."

"Aside from the robe, do you have a plan?" he asked curiously.

"Not really," she had to admit. "Disguised, I thought we could catch the guard by surprise. I doubt he'll be expecting an attack from a couple of kalerii."

As Kadar slipped the robe on, she continued, "I've been thinking about this a lot this past week. Once we have subdued the guard, we won't have very long before his absence is noticed."

Of course, locating the right books in a library famed the world over for its size and scope could well take them hours. But she hoped that, for once, luck would be on their side. "I asked around and learned that they keep everything, from ancient scrolls to bound tomes, well categorized and filed. Finding your Sadie's books shouldn't take too long." She hesitated, then whispered, "I hope."

Kadar was quiet for so long Ahna began to believe he wouldn't agree to her half-thought out plan. "So, you see, it's not _completely_ hopeless," she blurted, hoping she sounded at least somewhat positive.

Finally, he nodded and pulled the hood up over his head. "Let us go then."

When he left their patch of shadows, Ahna followed him back inside the monastery.

***

He couldn't believe how quickly his resolve crumbled. Kadar had spent the last two weeks actively talking himself out of his growing infatuation for Ahna, but, a dry hell _,_ the second he'd seen her standing in the shadows and calling for him, all reason fled. He had to face the fact he didn't want to let her go. It would damn near kill him to do so.

Behind him, Ahna stifled a snort of nervous laughter.

"What?" he whispered.

"You walk like a soldier," she replied.

He stopped and looked back at her. Ahna's statement didn't make sense. Of course he would, he _was_ a soldier.

"You're supposed to be a kaleros: a religious man, not a soldier. Put your hands in front of you like you're praying, and loosen your shoulders."

Kadar resumed walking, forcing himself to relax his stride. She was right. Especially if _Aijeleth_ Eoin patrolled the hallways, he couldn't betray his identity in such an obvious way.

"Better," Ahna said a few moments later.

He had only taken a few more steps when she cleared her throat and spoke again in a low voice. "You won't have to worry about acknowledging a child."

He stopped again, long enough to try to wrap his mind around this sudden change of topic. "Child?"

"You were worried I might have become pregnant after the ritual. Well, there is no need to worry anymore. I didn't conceive. Proof of that fact came last week."

Something in her voice caught Kadar's attention. Disappointment? No, he must have dreamed it. Yet, when she walked passed him and took the lead, the stiffness of her posture made him reach out to touch her shoulder. She froze, not looking at him. "Come here, girl," he said, and he felt her shiver.

When she finally turned to face him, she looked flushed, her eyes huge and her lips parted invitingly. He couldn't help the spike arousal that shot through him at the sight. Before he could think better of it, he caught her chin between his fingers and brought his mouth to hers in a kiss that left his knees shaking. Bad idea, he realized at once, for now he wanted to taste more. He groaned and regretfully let her go. "We need to keep moving."

Ahna nodded, looking just as dazed as he felt by their kiss. "Yes, of course," she replied shakily. She whipped around and hurried down the hallway leading toward the barracks.

Kadar caught up with her after a few strides, but let her lead the way. He estimated that they were close to the library and kept all his senses alert.

At the end of a long corridor, Ahna raised her hand, fist closed, in the well-understood military sign for a halt, and stopped to peer around the corner. Then she sighed in relief. "No sign of Aijeleth Eoin, thank the Thousand Spirits," she whispered. "There's only one man guarding the door."

He glanced over her shoulder to evaluate the situation, and his eyes sought the guard. Bored looking and perhaps half asleep, he wouldn't present much of a challenge. Their luck held. Kadar recognized the young man as being one of the devotees he had trained with before his departure two weeks before. Jun, if he didn't miss his guess.

"Stay here," he whispered to Ahna. "Before violence is needed, I want to talk to him."

"Do you think you have any chance of convincing him to let you in?" she asked doubtfully.

In truth, Kadar didn't think so, but he needed to try. The consequences of his theft would be dire enough without adding bodily injuries to his list of sins. He shrugged. "I need to try. Stay hidden; I'd prefer if you were not seen."

Ahna looked distinctly disgruntled with his order to stay back, but nodded stiffly. He made certain she kept hidden before leaving their position and walking toward Kaleros Jun in a leisurely fashion.

The guard jumped and came to attention the moment he saw Kadar. "Who goes there? _En_ prayers have been over for some time. The high priest will not be pleased to learn you did not return to your room."

Kadar pulled down the hood of his robe to reveal his features. Jun gaped, completely astonished to see him, and Kadar couldn't blame him. "Champion?" Jun blanched and reached for the scimitar sheathed at his hip.

"Peace, Kaleros Jun. I wish you no harm." Just as long as the young guard did nothing stupid.

"You are not supposed to be here," Jun said nervously. "Why—"

"I need to access the library, Kaleros Jun. I am only here for the books which were stolen from Prince Jalen of Zammar's betrothed. Nothing more. I will leave as soon as I find them."

"I can't let you inside the library." Jun shook his head, sounding more than a little panicked now. "I just can't."

"Please. It's a question of life and death," Kadar tried one last time, but part of him already knew it was pointless. Kaleros Jun was fully committed to Al'Zafyra and his superiors there.

"Impossible! The Thousand Spirits would never forgive such a transgression." Then Kaleros Jun looked behind Kadar and exclaimed, "Kaleras Ahnanti? What are you doing—"

What was Ahna doing out of hiding? She'd just implicated herself in the theft. It was too late in any case. So much for talking his way in.

Kadar shoved Jun into the wall, cutting his question short. The man's air whooshed out of his lungs when he hit the rough stone. Not waiting for him to suck in a breath and raise the alarm, Kadar shoved his forearm over Jun's throat, cutting off his air supply. He dropped his other hand over the man's mouth to keep him from calling out.

"I told you to stay back," he growled.

She shrugged. "It didn't look like your approach was working."

He cursed mentally, but he couldn't change the fact she'd been seen with him. "There is a knife in my boot. Take it. Make some bindings and a gag from one of the robes."

Out of his the corner of his eye he saw her nod, and she bent down to take the blade. He turned his attention back to Jun against the wall. The man's eyes were bulging, and his skin started looking a little gray.

"I'm sorry, friend, but I really need to get inside the library."

In a matter of seconds, Jun's eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he started slumping against the wall. "Are you done yet?" Kadar asked Ahna. Jun's weight would become a problem if he passed out. He wanted to let go before he caused permanent damage.

"Yes," she murmured.

"Good." _Not a moment too soon,_ Kadar thought grimly as Jun's body grew lax as he lost consciousness. "I don't want him to die."

Kadar let Jun slide to the floor. "He'll come to quickly once I let go. You need to stuff the rag in for the gag before he does."

"Understood," she whispered.

Kadar let go of Jun's mouth, but held his arm against his windpipe. He worried he'd kept the man from breathing too long already and willed Ahna to hurry.

She worked quickly, and after a few seconds Kadar was able to remove his forearm from Jun's throat. The man's body shuddered as it struggled to pull in air into his starved lungs. After two or three ragged breaths, Jun's eyes began to flutter.

"Hurry, tie his legs," Kadar ordered, as he flipped Jun to his stomach to secure his arms.

Jun moaned into his gag. _Blistering suns! That didn't take long._

"Done," Ahna muttered.

"Good."

Kadar rolled Jun to his back and hooked his hands under his armpits. Jun was still struggling to catch his breath through the gag or—Kadar was sure—he'd have fought more. As it was, Jun stayed limp in Kadar's grip. Dragging him into the library, Kadar propped him against the wall.

"You know more about the library than I do. Find those tomes. I'll stand guard outside. Call if you need help, but hurry. _Kaleros_ Jun's absence will be noted soon."

When Ahna nodded, Kadar slipped back outside.

***

Once Kadar left, Ahna did a full circle, scanning the room quickly. She swore as she began to fully understand the magnitude of her task. "Thousand Spirits," she hissed between her teeth. The room was enormous! Sprawled on one level with reading tables in the center and shelves upon shelves climbing all the way to the vaulted ceiling, it had to house at least a hundred thousand books, scrolls, and tablets of all sort. On the tables, a diverse array of documents laid in piles or still open. If the books she was searching for were in one of those piles... Ahna didn't finish her thought. It was no use worrying yet.

Fortunately aside from those few exceptions, she'd been told the truth. The bookshelves and scroll nooks were well ordered and clearly labeled. She walked farther into the cavernous room and started searching in earnest.

She came to a halt in front of the shelves marked healing and began scanning titles. Within moments she found one that didn't match the others, a small, dirty, leather-bound tome that looked as though it had seen a lot of use. She pulled it from the shelves, praying it was one of the correct ones, and compared the writing to the list Kadar had given her. To her great relief, it matched.

"Hurry, Ahna," Kadar called through the door. "I hear someone coming."

She nodded, and then groaned. He couldn't see her. "Almost... just a moment more."

After another minute she found another foreign-looking title, grabbed it and shoved it on top of the first one in her arms. Her hands shook as she scanned the remaining shelves. _Hurry, hurry_ , she kept mentally repeating. Finally, she found a thick book that matched the last of the books she was looking for. She added it to her pile and ran back toward the front of the room. "I have them. We can go," she said when she reached Kadar's position.

"Stay where you are. Wait for my signal," he whispered back and pulled the library door shut behind him.

The minutes of silence stretched on until she was sure she'd been standing by that door for hours. Finally the door clicked open a crack and Kadar said, "Now!"

Ahna slipped out the door and Kadar grabbed her hand, tugging her down the hall. They burst through the archway and into the garden. It was still empty of human presence, but that could only be a short reprieve.

"They saw you. You'll have to come with me," Kadar announced as he stopped several feet from the exterior wall he'd already climbed once.

Ahna quirked an eyebrow. "I never intended to stay here."

"I was hoping our association tonight wouldn't be discovered. Then you would have been safe staying here until I sent for you." He looked back the way they'd come. "We'll certainly be pursued. It will be a dangerous road back to Zammar."

"I understand," she answered simply. She refused to stay at the monastery another minute while Kadar risked his life outside. When she'd seen her chance to help by befuddling Jun further—and thus guaranteeing he would recognize her—she'd jumped at it.

After one last look around the walled garden, Kadar took two steps back and launched himself at the wall, using a corner and his feet to propel himself upwards. Ahna's mouth dropped open in surprise. The wall had to be twelve feet tall at the very least. Yet he managed to grab the top after only a few steps, and use his arms to pull himself up the rest of the way. Once on top, he retrieved a bundle from the darker shadows. He tossed one end of what she finally identified as a coiled rope down to her. "Can you climb with the books?"

She nodded and slid them inside the front of her robe, making sure to secure them above her belt. The three books made for an unwieldy bulge, but it should work for a short time.

With fingers that shook slightly, she grabbed the rope and pulled herself up the wall. Her arm muscles barely protested. Years of sword training, combined to the two weeks working in the monastery's garden, had kept her in good shape.

Once at the top, she sat facing Kadar. He took the time to pull the rope back up out of sight and roll it into a tidy coil, before looking at her. "Thank you," he said. The warmth and relief in those words almost brought tears to Ahna's eyes.

"My pleasure."

He flashed her a bittersweet smile. "Take my hand," he said, and she did.

Pulling her closer, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, then nodded toward the outside facade of the wall. "I'm going to lower you down. There should be another five or six feet drop after that. When you get to the bottom, you'll find a saddlebag next to that tree," he said, pointing to a gnarled trunk a few feet away.

"All right," Ahna agreed, and tossed her legs over the edge of the wall. He lowered her down until she dangled with her feet scraping at the stone. He then he let go of her hands and she dropped to the ground with a soft thump, rolling to absorb the shock. After a dazed second, she darted toward the dead tree. As promised, the saddlebag had been left in the crook of its roots. She shoved the two smaller books inside, but found that the third, biggest one, wouldn't fit. With a curse, she returned it to its previous hiding place under her robe. She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder. By then Kadar had jumped down and joined her.

"Our mounts aren't far. Time to make a run for it," he told her.

Ahna didn't need to be told twice.

#  Chapter 16

Al'Zafyra's tall walls disappeared into the distance. The ponies' hooves pounded into the earth in a steady rhythm as they galloped away on the hard-packing trail. It had been almost an hour already since their escape from the monastery, and Ahna couldn't hear a sound coming from behind them. But she knew their small desert ponies couldn't keep to that pace for very long. They were made for endurance in long slow treks through the desert, not wild runs at full speed.

"They're exhausted. We must slow down," she called out to Kadar, worried.

"Soon," he replied, his voice just as tight as hers.

A mile later, he finally let his mount slow to a canter, and Ahna drew up beside him. "We'll arrive at the crossroad soon," she said.

Kadar didn't immediately answer her unasked question, and she figured he had to be calculating their odds. She wondered which way he would choose. Of the two routes leading out of the valley, the canyon road was the riskiest, but also the most direct. The second path was relatively safer, but would cost them several days of travel, days they might not have if the aijeleth were pursuing them. "Do you think they've raised the alarm by now?" she asked nervously.

"Most probably," he replied. He looked up at the brightening sky, and frowned. "We'll use the canyon path."

She nodded in agreement. There was no perfect escape route, so she supposed the most direct one was their best choice. Afterward, they fell into a strained silence, all senses alert. At the crossroad, Kadar came to a halt and held up his hand for her to do the same. Before Ahna could ask about the reason for their stop, he said, "Wait for me here," and prompted his mount to head up the alternate route. While she waited, Ahna kept slanting nervous glances behind them, fearing any indication of pursuit.

_Hurry,_ she thought, willing Kadar to return.

Finally, about twenty minutes later, she spotted him off the path, making his way slowly back toward her. He had dismounted and was leading his pony, stopping every few moments to bend and erase his tracks. He wasn't wearing his kaleros robe anymore, and must have discarded it at some point. "Dismount," he said when he stopped beside her. "We'll walk them a ways."

"What happened to your robe?"

"I left it hidden on the side of the road. I'm sure whoever has been sent after us will find it, whether or not they fall for my ruse."

A false trail. Now she understood.

They spent the next hour at an excruciatingly slow pace, leading their mounts off-road while Kadar made sure to erase their passage in the dirt, using his own shirt as a makeshift broom. At last, he gave the signal to mount again and they continued on the road.

The rest of their day was spent pushing their ponies to their limit, putting as much distance between them and the monastery as they could. They stopped only when it became too dark to see more than a few feet ahead of them and their mounts began to stumble on unseen holes. They took refuge for the night in a crevice between easily defensible boulders just off the road.

At the first blush of dawn, Kadar rose to pack their bags. Ahna scrubbed her hand across her face wearily, and watched him secure their few belongings. Once he was done, she joined him and they were off again.

If they made good time, Ahna calculated they would reach the pass by mid-afternoon. It seemed their luck wouldn't hold, however. Several hours from entering the canyon, she noticed a cloud of dust on the horizon behind them.

"Kadar?"

"I see it," he said curtly.

"Shouldn't we—I don't know—get off the road?" Maybe they could mount an ambush and try to catch their pursuers unaware. Go on the offense instead of simply hoping to escape them.

"No," Kadar answered and increased their pace. "If we can see their passage, they can see ours. The canyon will shield us from view. If needed, we can make a stand on the other side."

She gripped the reins tighter. She didn't think they would win this race on their slow-paced ponies. But late morning came and went, and by early afternoon the dust cloud had cleared as though it had never existed. Ahna finally breathed a little easier.

Her relief only lasted until they reached the canyon. Kadar didn't appear to notice her growing trepidation and led the way in without hesitation. Ahna, on the other hand, would have preferred to be anywhere but there. As they rode into the gathering shadows of the high cliffs, memories replayed in her mind: the stifling hot carriage, Captain Zahi calling a halt, the arrow suddenly appearing in his throat. The blood. The deaths. She shivered.

"Ahna?"

Ahna blinked away the specters of violence and looked at Kadar. "Yes?"

"Will you be all right?" he asked with some worry.

She hesitated a moment before she answered. "Yes... yes, I'll be fine. It's just—" She shrugged, not finishing her sentence, but he understood anyway.

"Bad memories?"

"Yes."

He nodded, but didn't say anything more.

Ahna felt slightly better once they'd ridden past the site of the attack, and they reached the other side less than hour later, safe and sound. Only then did she truly breathe a sigh of relief.

"We will ride until dark," Kadar said, breaking the long silence.

"Are there any Kanashi sites nearby? We need water."

After a thoughtful moment, Kadar nodded and left the well-worn path.

Nightfall arrived without incident, and after securing their mounts, they shared a small meal of dried meat and fresh water before taking turns keeping watch.

On the dawn of the third day, with the canyon hours behind them and still no sign of pursuit, Ahna thought they might have managed the impossible: stealing from the monastery of Al'Zafyra and getting away with their lives. Unfortunately, after only an hour into the day's ride, she knew something was wrong. Her shoulder blades itched with the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. This in itself wasn't new, but still she turned to Kadar. "Is it just me, or do you also feel watched?"

Grimly, he answered. "It isn't just you."

Her heart sank.

Their ponies ran at a tired trot, their heads drooping alarmingly, and she cursed. "We can't go any faster. Not yet, anyway. We've pushed them too hard already."

Kadar nodded but still nudged his pony to a canter. Ahna did the same, her eyes darting right and left in search of the source of the threat.

The answer came in the form of an arrow whizzing through the still air. Kadar jerked on his reins, trying to maneuver out of the way, but it was too late. The arrow slammed into his shoulder, knocking him backward off his saddle. His foot caught in the stirrups, before finally breaking free, and he lay in the dirt, unmoving. Panicked, the pony reared on its hind legs and galloped away.

"Kadar!"

An instant later, a second arrow hit her with bone-jarring force, almost unseating her. After scrambling a moment to regain her balance, she finally decided to let herself slip, then fall out of the saddle. Better to keep low when getting shot at. And then she could always use her pony as a shield as a last resort. Her fall wasn't as well controlled as she hoped, and she hit the ground with a grunt.

Ahna looked down and touched the arrow shaft now protruding from her chest. Now, _that_ was a surprising sight. No blood and no pain, either. It was the book, she realized. The big tome she'd been carrying under her robe these past three days had stopped the arrow before it pierced her flesh.

Movement caught her attention. Someone was making their way toward them. His boots, then legs, then torso came into view.

Aijeleth Eoin. She recognized him with a jolt of fear. He had exchanged his bow for a long scimitar. About to finish them off, no doubt.

He approached Kadar first, certainly considering him the biggest threat. But Kadar was also wounded and, from his slowness to react, in no shape to fight. While Eoin had his back turned, Ahna quietly got back on her feet. _He should not have dismissed me so easily,_ she thought savagely, and unsheathed the Kanashi blade at her waist.

Eoin must have heard the movement as he whipped around at the last moment, his scimitar held ready to parry an assault. His mouth opened in an "Oh" of shock as he caught sight of her and the arrow still seemingly impaled in her chest.

He looked even more taken aback when she rushed toward him, sword extended. But in spite of the unexpectedness of her attack, he reacted with lightning-quick reflexes and met her strike with a parry and an immediate counter-attack.

Ahna let him push her back once, then again with his next hit. She saw in his expression that he imagined the fight over already. Just as he hadn't expected her to rush him, he wasn't expecting her to possess any proficiency with a sword. She let him think that for a few moments longer, waiting for him to grow cocky and overconfident.

Her back hit a boulder, and she side-stepped to clear the obstacle. The slight narrowing of Eoin's eyes was the only warning Ahna received before he feinted to the right and then struck at her left flank. He overreached in the same fashion many of Captain Zahi's men used to do the first time they trained with her. A mistake Ahna capitalized on. Her blade slid under Eoin's right guard and grazed his side. He danced away to the left, looking rattled that she had managed the feat of wounding him—shallow as that injury might be.

Immediately, he tightened his stance to remove any possible openings, and wiped the arrogance from his expression. It would seem he was finally starting to take her seriously. Ahna chastised her restraint. This was no practice bout where the fighting ended at first blood, and she'd just lost some of the element of surprise. She should have struck harder while she had the opportunity, aim for at least maiming him. This mistake could end up costing her much. His skills were almost on par with Kadar's, and if he gained the upper hand, she knew she was lost. She needed a way of ending this fight before it happened.

Ahna deliberately fumbled on her next several thrusts and parries, hoping to lull Eoin into believing her previous hit had been a fluke. _You see, I'm not really that dangerous. Just a girl with a little experience with pointy sticks._ But he reacted with wariness now, and left her nothing to work with. She began to fear the ruse would not work—and that she might be overextending herself past the point where she could offer an effective defense—when Eoin forced her back with a series of strikes that left her arms shaking and her breath labored.

He must have felt her growing fatigue, as he grinned menacingly and rained down a series of blows that nearly knocked the sword from her hand. His savagery revealed one thing, though. Eoin favored his left side more than his right. It was a weakness he needed to work on, Ahna thought, amazed she could feel so detached in that moment.

Knowing she was quickly tiring, she didn't waste this new opportunity. She lunged at him, and feinted at the gap to his right. He countered faster than she would have thought possible for a human to move, but it was enough. He had left himself vulnerable.

Eoin's eyes widened in shock when she knocked his sword wide. In the same moment, she brought her foot upward with all her strength. The top of her boot connected with his groin with enough force to lift him to the balls of his feet. Eoin fell to the ground, retching, and dropped his sword in favor of cupping his crotch with both hands.

With the aijeleth __ down on his knees and incapable of doing anything more than gasp in pain, Ahna brought her sword up for the killing blow. Heart pounding in her chest, she froze, unable to bring it back down on his neck. Eoin was only fulfilling his sworn duty to the Thousand Spirits. Ending his life while he was defenseless would be no better than murder.

Her hands shook from her dilemma. Soon Eoin would recover, and when he did, she would have lost the last of her element of surprise. And this time, he would kill her. She needed to strike first.

_But I can't_ , she mentally wailed.

She brought her arms back down, defeated.

Kadar stopped next to her, holding his wounded shoulder. His left arm hung uselessly by his side. "If you're not planning on killing him, we'll have to immobilize him some other way. Go and get some rope. I'll keep an eye on him."

Ahna nodded tersely and sheathed her sword. She turned, fully expecting her pony to have fled, but unlike its more nervous brethren, it had stopped nearby and was looking on with disinterested brown eyes. She reached it in a few strides and found their climbing rope a moment later. She hurried back to Kadar.

Eoin hadn't moved from his prone position, and still moaned softly. The pain appeared to have receded somewhat, but the sword Kadar held at his throat guaranteed his current cooperation.

"You might have rendered that poor aijeleth infertile," Kadar commented with a wince of sympathy. "Remind me never to cross you."

Ahna shrugged, her cheeks flaming. "An effective maneuver when it isn't expected."

His spark of humor fled. "Tie him up. I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Understood."

Before long, she had secured Eoin's hands and feet and tied the remainder of the rope around a boulder, preventing him from moving away. Only then did she take a moment to grab the arrow embedded in the front of her robe and pull it off. She threw it as far away as she could and slid the tome out to inspect the damage.

"Did the arrow pierce your skin?" Kadar asked worriedly.

She shook her head. "I'm unharmed. On the other hand, that book will bear some scars."

"Thank your ancestors," he murmured, so softly Ahna wasn't certain she heard correctly. Before she could ask him about it, he continued. "Eoin's horse should be somewhere nearby. Do you think you can control him?"

"Of course."

"Good. Can you get it ready for our departure?"

Ahna nodded and left in search of the __ aijeleth's mount.

***

Once Ahna had left his side, Kadar returned his attention to Eoin, who had stopped moaning and struggling at some point while they'd been talking.

"How many aijeleth are on the hunt for us?" Kadar asked. The detail wouldn't matter to him for long; he only needed to know for Ahna's sake. The poison that coated the aijeleth's arrow burned inside his wound, already spreading through his veins. It would surely kill him, if blood loss or infection didn't do so first.

"It's too late," Eoin spat. "You won't escape the wrath of the Thousand Spirits. Even now, death stalks in your shadow."

Kadar didn't react to the aijeleth's curse. "Yes, but I have succeeded in my mission."

"Those books do not belong to you," Eoin argued doggedly.

Kadar sighed. "No, aijeleth. It's Al'Zafyra that bought stolen property. Not for the first time, I'd wager. Now, I am merely returning them to their rightful owner."

Eoin interrupted him with a string of curses, and Kadar bit back his response. There was no need to engage him further. Without another word, Kadar gagged him and, looking east, he said, "I imagine you will untie yourself soon enough. If you travel east, Kuo Amar's tribe should find you before the lack of water becomes a problem. Tell them I sent you; they should treat you well."

Eoin sputtered around his gag, and Kadar sighed again. He'd done all he could for the aijeleth. With a grunt, he regained his feet. His vision blurred and the ground listed sideways alarmingly. He managed to keep upright, and gritted his teeth against the pain and dizziness gripping him.

"Ahna," he said, keeping his tone neutral with effort. He didn't want to worry her unnecessarily.

"Yes?"

"I need your help. Grab the arrow with both hands, and break the shaft next to the skin."

Even through her tan, Kadar saw her blanch as his words sank in. "Wouldn't it be better to take the time to pull it out and dress the wound instead?"

Kadar shook his head. "Not now. We need to put more distance between us and Al'Zafyra. There might be others pursuing us apart from Aijeleth Eoin."

Ahna squared her shoulders, as if mentally readying herself for the task ahead. She grabbed the arrow, one hand against his shoulder, the other a palm's length away. There, she hesitated. "This is going to hurt."

_But less than the poison._ Kadar planted his feet more firmly on the ground and took a long breath. "I know," he replied calmly, and braced himself.

With a muttered prayer, she twisted her hands, breaking the wooden shaft with a snap. Pain seared through Kadar's shoulder and down his arm, and he clenched his teeth until it subsided. He then looked down at his shoulder. Blood had dyed the fabric of his shirt red all the way to his elbow, but the flow appeared to have slowed to a trickle now.

It would have to do, Kadar thought. They needed to leave the area and put as much distance as they could between them and anybody else Al'Zafyra might have sent after them. "Time to go."

***

Ahna'd had enough. What was he trying to do? Kill himself? "Kadar, we _need_ to stop."

Silence stretched, before Kadar answered, his voice clipped. "Soon."

"This is the third time you've said that! We have to do something with that shoulder of yours before it's too dark for me to see the wound." And it would be in less than an hour, now that the sun had dipped below the horizon.

He ignored her, and Ahna slipped back into a frustrated silence. She understood his need to put as much distance as possible between them and their potential pursuers, but she wondered how much longer he would be able to go on. Although he'd not said a word since they left Eoin's location, the sheen of perspiration on his face told its own story.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked after a while.

He grunted in response, but said nothing else and she didn't press the issue. After a few more minutes they reached the cliffs, and he raised his one good hand, indicating a deep indentation in the rock wall. It would be a dry camp, she noted, but big enough to shelter them and keep their two mounts hidden for the night.

Ahna watched with worry as Kadar stumbled out of the saddle without his usual grace. Even his shoulder wound shouldn't have accounted for it. Had he lost more blood than she'd realized?

"Kadar," she called out to him, not sure if she should offer to help him. Knowing his proud personality, he would not admit to any kind of weakness, no matter how valid. He might even rebuff her help.

"No fire tonight," Kadar announced while he moved around their improvised camp. His rapid, jerky movements made her fear that he might collapse at any moment.

"Understood. Now, sit down so I can take care of your wound," she snapped, determined to inspect it.

He waved her away. "I'll be fine. Go take care of our mounts. We need to be able to leave again as soon as you've gotten a few hours of sleep."

"No, you're not _fine_ ," she bit back, torn between annoyance at his stubbornness and intense concern about his condition. "Now, sit down."

Kadar snorted, but he stopped pacing long enough to sit down on a flat rock outcrop. Ahna went to rifle through their stolen horse's saddle bags for a clean cloth to staunch blood and bandage the wound. She found what she needed. Eoin's smallclothes would work fine as rags, and his tunic looked clean enough for a bandage. Pausing, she eyeballed the clothes—she could change into Eoin's spare clothes—but then pushed the notion away. Her own kaleras robe was filthy and would not make an acceptable bandage substitute.

She returned to Kadar, and considered the situation. "Unless you can raise your arms, I'll have to cut through your tunic," she said.

He shrugged his one good shoulder. "It doesn't matter," he replied, emotionless.

Ahna frowned at his tone, but decided not to comment. Using Kadar's dagger, she cut through the layers of his Zammarian uniform down to his skin. Once done, she put the knife aside so she could peel the fabric away and take her first look at the wound. She grimaced. The edges were puckered and dark red—even blackish in parts. It looked as if infection had already started to set in. On the other hand, she didn't think the arrow had hit bone, which was good news as she didn't have the tools needed to extract the head from his collarbone.

She licked her lips nervously. Of course, she knew the theory of what she was about to do, but she'd never had to perform anything like it before on an actual, live human being. "I'll have to slice the wound open more, so I can feel for the arrow head and pull it out safely," she explained to Kadar, even though she expected he knew what she planned to do.

When he didn't answer or even react, she began to wonder if he'd even heard her. Perhaps she should repeat herself. "Kadar?"

He blinked slowly before looking up at her. "You don't need to bother," he finally said.

She snorted at that idea. "Of course I do. If we leave it embedded, infection is sure to set in—if it hasn't already—and you might die before we reach help. Now, the Kanashi are the closest, but since you sent Eoin that way, I guess they're out of the question. The Zammar palace is over a week's travel away even if we hurry." She glanced up at the still clear sky. "And the rains will start soon, which will only make travel more difficult. We need to deal with your wound, or you won't—"

"Ahna," Kadar interrupted, stopping her in the middle of her tirade.

She frowned at him. "You know it's true. It's fine if you don't trust my skills, but it still needs to be done and I'm the only one here who can do it."

"Ahna," Kadar repeated wearily.

"What?" she snapped.

He sighed, looking more tired than she'd ever seen him. "Removing the arrowhead is useless at this point."

"Of course it's not—" she started to contradict him.

"Let me finish, please."

She gritted her teeth, but nodded reluctantly.

"It's useless to remove the arrow head at this point," he repeated. "I'm already dead."

"I... don't understand." Ahna felt her heart sinking.

"An aijeleth on the hunt _always_ uses poisoned arrows."

_Poison_ . That would account for the ugliness of the wound, Ahna thought inanely. Shock...she was in shock. But, she had to get herself back together. Now wasn't the time to panic, nor to despair.

"There is still time," she insisted.

"Ahna," he said for the third time. "It's already coursing through my blood. It's only a matter of time now."

"No." She refused to believe it, refused to give up.

"At dawn tomorrow, you will take the two horses and our bags, and travel south. I trust you know how to navigate toward Zammar using the sun's position?" He continued without waiting for her confirmation. "You should arrive at the palace in a week. Sooner if you make good time. Once there, ask for Jalen. Tell him—" There, Kadar stopped, and closed his eyes briefly. But then, he shook his head and he concluded, "Tell him we succeeded."

As she listened to him, Ahna felt her temper rising. How dare he give up like this? She couldn't let him abandon hope so soon. "Are you done with the martyr act now?" she bit out when he finished speaking.

Kadar stared at her but said nothing.

"Well, are you?"

"My mission is my first priority. The books must reach Jalen. Can you do that for me? As a last favor. Once this is over, you'll be free to live your life as you so choose. I'm sure... my father and Fatin would welcome you gladly if you decide not to stay in Zammar."

"And what about you? You'd have no horse. No food. No water!"

He shrugged. "In a few days, maybe less, it won't matter anymore."

"I will not leave you here to die."

"That choice has already been made for me, Ahna. Promise me you will complete my mission."

She threw her hands into the air. She'd heard enough. "Is your mission the only thing you ever think about? Thousand Spirits! What about you?"

He gave her a humorless smile. "I'm a soldier. I always knew I'd die some day. I have made my peace with it."

"And what about me, then?" she pushed on. She'd be damned if she let him die without trying everything she could to save him, including resorting to underhanded tactics such as this one. "I'm not ready to be a widow yet. Don't you dare abandon me now, after everything you've put me through!"

Her words worked even better than she expected. Kadar's face lost what little color it had, and his eyes grew round in surprise. "Ahna, I—" he stuttered.

"No excuses. We have not exhausted all possibilities. There has to be someone who can help you."

Kadar shook his head slowly, but his shoulders weren't as hunched, his posture not as defeated. "There is no known cure for the aijeleth's variant of the desert-rose poison."

"What about that healer, Sadie? If she can cure Jalen from a curse that's reputed incurable, certainly she can save you too."

"I—I don't know." He hesitated, clearly thinking about it. Hoping. "We're still a week away from the palace."

"We can make it. We _will_ make it, even if we have to travel day and night. Didn't I tell you Bathans are expert horsemen? I promise you, I will get you there in time."

Kadar stayed silent.

"Promise me you won't give up. Please," she said. She would beg if necessary.

"I... I will try." He finally looked back at her. His gaze cleared of some of the hopelessness that had shadowed it before, and when he nodded Ahna knew he would fight until the end. "I promise you," he said.

She was so relieved her knees threatened to collapse under her. And yet, their situation was still dire. Who knew how long it would take the poison to kill him? Would he really survive until she reached the palace? He had to. Believing otherwise... was an impossibility.

Ahna took a deep breath. "All right. Now, I still have to take care of that arrow."

Kadar nodded. "Do what you have to."

#  Chapter 17

"I'm going to start a fire," Ahna announced as soon as they dismounted the next evening.

"No fire, too visible," Kadar replied. A shiver wracked his body, making his last word almost unintelligible.

He felt so tired. So cold. But he had to go on. For Jalen. For Ahna.

Ahna scowled at him. "I'm going to start a fire," she repeated firmly. "You look like you need the warmth."

"A campfire will be too visible," he argued again, getting irritated that she wouldn't obey his order.

"I watched you work while we were avoiding the rebels. I know how to build a small fire that won't show smokes or flames."

"Stubborn," he stuttered through another shiver.

"I could say the same of you," she replied at once.

He couldn't help but chuckle after she left to rummage around the small Kanashi campground for its hidden cache of firewood. She found the rock pile almost at once, and went to work on starting a fire. He still didn't agree with the need for one, but no longer had the energy to argue.

Kadar sat down, groaning in pain as the movement jolted his wounded shoulder. Looking up at the quickly darkening sky, he sighed. How long did he have? A few days? A week maybe? Long enough to repent for his sins... Cursed desert-rose. A fast-acting poison would have been better than this slow decline.

He watched, listless and disinterested, as Ahna took care of their mounts, first unsaddling then brushing them. After leaving them food and water, she moved on to their own needs. She returned with strips of dried meat and water. Despite her entreaties, Kadar couldn't bring himself to swallow more than a few bites of the hard meat, but he drank most of the water. He felt so parched. He had to force himself to stop. Their campground's small well was almost dry—or so Ahna had said—and it held hardly enough water to refill their water-skins.

He glanced at the sky. The clouds he'd noticed building on the horizon earlier had grown closer. The rains were coming. Late, but welcome regardless.

"Let me take a look at your shoulder." Ahna's voice broke through his daze. "It's time to change the dressing."

Kadar glanced at her and tried to wave her away. He didn't need—

"No argument this time," she interrupted with a frown. "It looks like blood has seeped through again."

Her obvious worry warmed something inside his chilled body. So, even though he thought it useless, he stopped resisting her attempts to help. Ahna sat down and made a face as she pulled on the soiled bandages. Pain shot through him, and Kadar hissed, his vision swimming. He heard her curse profusely, and she muttered, "This is going to hurt," before yanking them off.

"Kadar," he heard through ringing ears, and realized she was holding his elbow to keep him sitting. He didn't remember her reaching for him.

"I'll be fine," he mumbled. He straightened and nodded for her to let go.

She did, but only to press the back of her hand to his cheek instead. "You have a fever," she said with worry. "And your wound looks horrible. I was hoping to avoid infection."

"The poison... it keeps flesh from mending."

Ahna humphed and continued working in silence for a while, first cleaning the caked blood and pus from the wound, then dressing it again. "Tell me about him," she then said, sounding strangely angry.

"Eh?"

"What is he like? Tell me why you'd risk your life for him," she elaborated. She pointed at his ruined shoulder and then at the stained bandages she'd discarded. "Tell me he's worth all of _this_." She shook, her eyes swimming. Then, she cursed under her breath and looked away.

Touching a strand of her beautiful hair with his one good hand, Kadar got her to face him again. "He is a good friend and an honorable man. He _is_ worth it."

He paused, contemplating what he could say that would justify his loyalty to Jalen. Finally, he explained, "I was a fresh young soldier of barely eighteen when I met Jalen for the first time. I had been assigned to his personal guard, and to also serve as a sparring partner. At the time, he behaved like a real brat, always getting in trouble with his father and his tutors." He sighed. He could still remember that day as if it happened yesterday.

"How old was he?"

"Ten. Almost eleven. He'd lost his mother that year, and I suspect it was his way to mourn her passing."

"And they trusted you enough to take care of the heir of the kingdom?"

He thought about this a moment. "I don't know what King Jameyri thought, but he's not a stupid man. From the moment I arrived at the palace as a small boy, I was treated fairly. I was always viewed by the royal family as a future soldier of Zammar, and not as a prisoner or hostage. King Jameyri's decision that I would be trained as a part of the royal guard instead of being sent to the regular soldiers' barracks sealed my future."

"I see."

Kadar's chuckle was interrupted by another involuntary shiver. He had to wait until it subsided before continuing. "At first, Jalen was... unhappy about my presence. I stopped his most harebrained schemes before he could hurt himself, and generally kept him focused on his studies and his training." Jalen had been one stubborn youth, Kadar remembered. Almost as stubborn as Kadar, and it had caused some serious friction at first. "But fortunately he outgrew his worst tendencies. He is still quite fearless, and more reckless than is prudent, but he also has a knack for evaluating a situation and figuring out the best way to avoid possible pitfalls. Not to mention winning. His men would follow him to the end of the world if he asked. I know I would. I am honored to call him not only my friend, but also my commander."

Ahna was smiling when he fell silent again. "I can hear it in your voice. You respect him a great deal. Thank you for telling me."

Kadar grunted noncommittally. He hadn't intended to sound this sentimental. It must be the fever. He went to stand. He would take first watch tonight.

"Sit. Get some rest. I'll take first watch," Ahna said at once, preventing him from standing by pressing down on his good shoulder. Kadar bit back the pain-filled groan it created.

"I'm not incapable of keeping watch, Ahna." _At least not yet._

"In that case, consider it your lucky day. You get to sleep before I do. Don't worry, I'll wake you up when your time comes to replace me."

Arguing any more at this point would not only be pointless, it would sound churlish and petty. With a grunt, he sat back down and closed his eyes. A moment later, Ahna returned to his side and the weight of a travel blanket fell on his shoulders. He hadn't realized he'd started shivering again until it did.

Ahna left without a word. The night would be a long one...

***

On the fourth day after Kadar's injury, the dark gray clouds that had invaded the skies burst, and rain started falling in sheets. The season of rains had finally begun, almost two weeks later than usual. As far as Ahna was concerned, it could have waited a few more days. It only compounded what was already a miserable situation, and would only get worse as the water saturated the ground, creating a quagmire.

Kadar's wound had begun to seep pus again in spite of her efforts to keep it clean of dirt and grime, and she'd used up her remaining clean cloth trying to prevent the infection from spreading. Yet his condition continued to worsen. He'd stopped speaking in more than grunts and single terse words. This morning had introduced a new concern. Kadar now talked to himself continuously—garbled words she did not quite understand.

Ahna shivered as Kadar droned on under his breath. How long would he be able to ride on his own, she wondered, worried. And what would happen if he were to fall unconscious. To the best of her knowledge, they still had another three days of hard riding before they reached the Zammarian capital, and the rain would only slow them even more.

"Kadar," she called out softly. Anything to get him to stop muttering to himself.

His eyes swiveled toward her, and stared at her as if he couldn't quite see her.

"Kadar," she repeated to keep him focused on her. "Are you—" _Fine? Sane?_ _About to keel over?_ "Do you need anything?" she finally settled on.

Kadar blinked owlishly, and Ahna questioned if he'd heard her. After a moment, however, he stopped whispering and appeared to make a great effort to respond. "Water," he finally said, his voice sounding raw and pain-filled.

Ahna grabbed their water skin and kicked the pony into step beside Kadar's horse. She reached out and made sure he had a secure hold before she let it go. He took a desperate swig of the water, then another one.

It took effort not to stop him. They were running out of potable water. The rains surely filled the hidden Kanashi wells—the problem was finding them. Kadar was in no condition to point them out to her anymore.

She tucked the water skin back into the right saddle bag once Kadar was done. His shoulders drooped and he began to mutter again soon thereafter. Ahna felt her heart sink in her chest when Kadar's horse drifted from the trail and he made no effort to correct it.

She began to seriously doubt that they reach the palace in time.

***

Kadar shifted in the saddle and squinted, trying to decide which of the four horizons dancing in front of him he should follow. The effort was too much and he no longer remembered why he should care. For several minutes—or it could have been hours—he bounced along on top of the horse, but eventually even that movement got to him, and he leaned over to retch.

Gasping, he barely held onto the saddle as he emptied his stomach on the trail. He wiped a hand across his mouth. _Have to keep going... Have to keep going..._ The mantra repeated over and over in his head.

A voice far distant broke through his haze. "Don't you dare fall off that horse Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar. You're too heavy for me to pick up."

He turned toward the voice and forced his hand to grip the saddle tighter. Was this one of the thousand spirits sent to reclaim him as Eoin asserted? She was beautiful. He would go gladly.

The spirit's hand reached toward him. The cool of her touch created spikes of pain through his fevered flesh.

"Now, stay there," the beautiful spirit said. "If you fall off before I'm ready I don't know if we'll make it."

He would do as the spirit asked. Kadar's eyes slipped closed.

A tap of a hand to his face woke him. "No sleeping!" the spirit commanded and muttered a few curses.

_Do spirits curse?_

"Yes, my lady," he slurred. He would do as the spirit asked.

Then a weight settled behind him on the horse. _Too heavy. Too heavy. Never make it._ He had to make the spirit understand.

"Don't you start talking like that. We _will_ make it."

Had he said that out loud?

"Now, hush up and stay seated," the voice barked. "You will not leave me a widow. I refuse to accept that."

_Widow? Wife?_ "Ahna?" he rasped.

"Who did you think I was?"

Kadar slurred an answer and Ahna huffed. "Hardly, but you will soon be a spirit if we don't make haste."

He tried to nod, but his head weighed too much and he gave up the effort.

Ahna clucked to the mount and Kadar gripped the saddle with shaking fingers. _Too fast._ "I'm going to fall."

"If you do, you will take me down with you, so you better stay where you are."

_Ahna._ He would for her. "Don't leave me," he whispered. There was something very important he wanted to tell her. Tell her before he forgot... but the words evaded him. "Ahna—" The reason why he needed to hold on to consciousness was already slipping away.

Kadar's head dipped forward and he knew no more.

***

Fear gripped Ahna's heart, and she wrapped her arm tighter around Kadar's waist.

_He's hallucinating._

His life was slipping away between her fingers. Ahna knew they couldn't afford to stop to rest again. They would need to forge on until they arrived at the palace.

Hopefully, they would reach it in time.

#  Chapter 18

The horse's sides heaved in exhaustion, and Ahna had to keep herself from forcing the poor beast to move any faster. It wouldn't do to push it past its limit so close to their goal. They'd reached the city an hour before dawn, and rode through the mostly empty streets and up the hillside road leading to the palace gates.

Kadar's deadweight started slipping to the right, and she struggled to pull him back toward the center of the saddle, cursing all the while. "Stay with me, Kadar," she said although he probably couldn't hear her in his present state. His pulse was growing weaker, and she couldn't keep the panic from her voice anymore. "We're almost there."

And they were, as she finally caught sight of the palace gates rising majestically at the end of the road, and each one of the horse's faltering steps brought them closer to their final destination.

At last, she pulled her mount to a stop a few feet away from the massive double doors. It neighed in complaint at the rough treatment. The guards standing on each side eyed her with open suspicion. Ahna could only imagine the sight she presented: filthy, exhausted, bedraggled, with what appeared to be a corpse tied to herself and her horse, and pulling a second pony behind her. Considering his slumped position, Kadar's face wasn't visible to them, and they probably hadn't identified him yet.

"I demand to see Prince Jalen 'Anaq Al-Jameyri and his betrothed Princess Sadie this instant."

"By whose orders?"

"Princess Ahnanti 'den Bathu-arazi Al-Kadar, and Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar," she rattled off impatiently. Couldn't they see she needed help?

The guard scoffed. "And you expect me to believe you?"

"I don't have time for this," Ahna bit back. "Get His Highness immediately."

"No. Now, leave." The guard's expression added a silent "crazy woman" at the end.

Kadar was dying in her arms. Couldn't they see this? What would it take to grant her access to the palace? She hovered between utter despair and all-encompassing rage at being denied. Eyes wild, trying to control her emotions, she turned to the younger guard and pointed at the unconscious Kadar, "Your Champion is dying. He _will_ be dead soon if he doesn't get help." The young guard's eyes grew wide. "Now, go confirm with your superiors that we should be granted admittance." When he still hesitated, she used her most authoritative court voice to bark, "Go!"

The young man reacted the way she expected, and before the older man could stop him, he turned and hurried inside.

The second guard unsheathed his sword to point it in her direction. With a glare, he said, "I don't know what you're planning, but such a ploy won't grant you an audience with our prince."

"By the Thousand Spirits and those ancestors you horse-pissing Zammarians pray to!" Ahna sputtered, losing the last shred of control over her temper. "Do you really want to be known as the man who left Jalen's best friend to die at the gates of his palace?"

For the first time since she'd pulled to a stop in front of him, the guard seemed to waver slightly in his assessment. "This can't be Captain Ibn' Al-Amar. This man is Kanashi," he said, sounding as if he was arguing with himself more than with her.

With a jolt, Ahna realized he must never have met Kadar before, or he would have known of his ethnicity. "It _is_ him," she bit back angrily. "As someone will be able to confirm soon enough."

"If you're lying to me—"

"I'm not."

"It'll be your death, woman."

"Fine! Now, let us in."

The guard nodded grudgingly and began opening the gates for them. Before she could coax the tired horse forward, though, Kadar began to slip. Fatigue made her own movements sluggish, and prevented her from pulling him back this time, and they both started to fall. "Guard! Help!" she yelled, scrabbling for purchase in the saddle.

His eyes snapped to hers, and whatever he saw in them made him hustle to her side just in time to keep them both from spilling to the ground.

"He needs a healer immediately. Please," Ahna blurted and began untying the bonds holding Kadar to her. Her fingers shook too much and she soon abandoned her efforts. Instead, she bent to grab the dagger from Kadar's boot. As she went to slice through the ropes, she commanded, "Catch him."

The guard nodded and as the bindings came free, he eased Kadar down. "Blistering suns!" He turned surprised eyes to Ahna. "What did you do to him?"

" _I_ didn't do anything," Ahna countered. "He was shot with a poisoned arrow." _Those damn books better save Jalen._ Ahna needed Kadar's sacrifice to mean something.

"What kind of poison?"

"According to him, desert-rose."

The guard whistled between his teeth. "How long ago?"

Wouldn't the man shut up and get them inside already? But, as he appeared to finally take the situation somewhat seriously, she answer, "A week."

"A dry hell, it's a small miracle he's still alive, then. Bad poison, desert-rose." At long last, he called over his shoulder for assistance.

At that instant, the younger guard returned, trailed by several more men, all of them dressed in a uniform similar to Kadar's. Within moments, the entryway swarmed with palace guards, and Ahna was pushed to the side as they maneuvered Kadar's prone form inside the gates. She tried to follow after him, but a soldier she hadn't noticed until now stopped her from taking more than one step in that direction.

"You," he snapped. "Come with me."

"No. I won't leave Kadar's side."

"I don't know who you are, or what your objective is, but what you ask is impossible. Come with me. His Highness will want to speak to you."

"He can talk to me just as well while I'm with Kadar," she snapped, but when she went to push past him, he barred her way with his sword. "You cannot follow."

She couldn't help the slightly plaintive tone that crept into her voice. "But he's my husband."

The guard huffed a laugh, clearly not believing her. "His wife. Right. A convenient charade," he countered. "Come with me, miss."

He'd delayed her to the point she'd lost sight of Kadar and his escort, and she had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't be allowed to see him again until she met with Jalen.

After one last longing glance in the direction the guards had taken Kadar, Ahna grabbed the saddlebag containing Kadar's precious books, and followed after him.

***

It felt like hours since the soldier led her inside to await the prince's arrival. _What is taking him so long?_ Ahna's agitation forced her feet forward, and she began to pace the small room again. Just when she thought she would go crazy and storm the palace looking for Kadar regardless of the consequences, she heard steps in the hall and stilled.

"She's most certainly lying, Your Highness," a voice said, growing clearer as the footsteps approached the door. She recognized it as belonging to the soldier who had escorted her to the room.

_Lying?_ Ahna harrumphed as she turned to face the door.

"Oh?" The second man's voice sounded grim.

"She claims to be Princess Ahnanti 'den Bathu-arazi." When the second man didn't respond, the soldier added, "The goat princess."

"I am aware of the nickname, Baqi. Please step aside. I shall see this Princess Ahnanti for myself."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

The door clicked open, and Ahna stood straighter. The man who entered could only be Prince Jalen. For one, he looked just like the small portrait she'd received during the betrothal negotiations. But she would have known, regardless. His youthful appearance, rich attire and the way he held himself, straight and proud, gave him away, not to mention the smoky tendrils of the curse that coiled on the right side of his face.

"Your Highness," Ahna greeted him and curtseyed.

His gaze swept over her, first surprised, then appraising. His silent assessment made her uncomfortable, and she had to remind herself she didn't have to meet his standard; she wasn't _his_ wife.

"Your Highness," he finally said with a slight bow. She sighed in relief. He had recognized her. "Did no one give you access to the baths?"

The question startled her, and she looked down at herself. In her worry, she had forgotten she still wore her supplicant robe. It was not only sopping wet, it was filthy. Toward the end of their journey, Kadar had been too ill to get off their shared mount. She didn't like to think too deeply about which bodily fluid had made which stain. At least the rain had helped with the smell somewhat. Grimacing, she met his stare. "No."

"That will not do. Baqi," he barked.

The door clicked open and Baqi looked in. "Your Highness?"

"Send for Nadia and Vera. Have them ready a guest chamber and clear the guest baths."

"Right away, Your Highness!"

Jalen turned his attention back to Ahna. "I apologize for your treatment here. Even if you were not who you say you are, it is unacceptable to treat a guest in such a manner. I assure you, that issue will be resolved in the future."

She waved away the apology. She really didn't care what they thought of her. "Can I see him now?"

"Soon. Sadie is with him now, but she assures me she can cure him. Apparently, poison and a festering wound are nothing compared to the Shifting Sands curse." Jalen chuckled. "She shooed me from the room while she works."

Deciding she liked this Sadie already, Ahna smiled.

He returned her smile with one of his own. "I have to thank you for bringing Kadar back to us, Highness. But by the looks of it, it won't be for much longer."

Ahna's heart leapt into her throat. "But you just said—"

Jalen held up his hand. "I did not mean his death. I meant the Kanashi tattoo and traditional hair beads. He has fought his family ties for long enough, and I always knew he would return to his people at some point. We have argued frequently in recent years about that very subject. Although, I will be interested in hearing _that_ story. How did Amar get him to agree this time?"

She felt her cheeks warm, memories of the _jun'sesesu surkekkon_ ritual coming to mind at his question. She cleared her throat. "It might be better if he were to tell you himself." After the soldier's blatant disbelief at her claim of marriage, she preferred to wait for Kadar to regain consciousness before she tried explaining the situation.

Jalen inclined his head. "I will ask him, then. Now, tell me. Was he successful?"

He did not need to clarify what he meant for Ahna to understand. But before she could respond, her eyes were drawn to the side of his face. It was as if the curse knew what was being discussed, for the tendrils began to swirl and move under his skin.

"Your Highness?"

Ahna's focus snapped back to Jalen. "Yes." And before she could think better of it, she blurted, "It moves."

Jalen frowned and rubbed at his temple. She barely kept her mouth from dropping open when the smoky swirls curled around where his fingertips pressed against his skin.

"Yes. The Shifting Sands seems to react to my thoughts. And as it grows stronger, the reactions become more pronounced." He stared at her intensely. "Was he successful?"

"Oh, yes, the books."

Ahna opened the saddlebag and emptied it of its contents, adding to the two books it contained the third one she still carried under her clothes. Jalen reached for it, perking an eyebrow when he noticed the split cover and pages. Before he said anything, Ahna explained quickly, "Arrow hole."

"Arrow?" he replied, sounding slightly puzzled.

"It did not fit in the saddle bags so I kept it close, under my robe. It stopped an arrow that was destined for me. You should take care until it is cleaned thoroughly. I don't know how long the poison stays active."

"Ahh." He shifted his grip to one corner, holding it gingerly away from him.

"Although I have not been harmed and I have carried it in the front of my robe this whole time," she added. "Without it, this meeting never would have happened."

"I suppose not. It is good that you were spared." Before he could say more, a knock on the door interrupted him. "Enter."

A young woman entered and fell into a deep curtsey. "The baths are ready, Your Highness."

"Excellent. Please show Her Highness, Princess Ahnanti the way." Turning back to Ahna, he tried to smile. "I'm sure that last part of your journey was quite trying."

Ahna huffed a laugh. "Let's just say it would have been a lot smellier if not for the rain. Oh, and I'd burn that saddle if I were you."

Jalen's rich laugh filled the room as she walked past him to follow the servant to the bathing room.

***

Warmth flared into a constellation of small stars under his skin. Kadar tried to claw his way out of the blackness that had swallowed him whole. Voices sounded around him, distorted and indistinct. The meaning of their words escaped him, although he knew he ought to understand them.

Touch. Someone had taken his hand, their fingers feeling ice cold against his feverish skin. He tried to open his eyes, open his mouth, let whoever it was know that he was still alive. Somehow, this seemed important. But his body refused to obey him.

Before long, darkness claimed him again.

***

After her bath, and dressed in a clean _kamiz_ and skirt, Ahna was escorted to the room where Jalen's betrothed, Sadie, was working her magic over Kadar.

"How is he?" Ahna asked. She couldn't quite keep the anxiety from her voice.

Sadie turned her incredible amber eyes toward her and smiled. "The poison has been neutralized and the infection taken care of. Now, his body simply needs time to mend and fight the fever."

Ahna sighed in relief. "Thank you, Princess Sadie." She was more thankful than she could express with words.

"Just Sadie, please. I might be Jalen's betrothed, but I don't bear the title. Also, it was the least I could do for Kadar. He is a friend; his loss would have devastated Jalen." She gave the still-unconscious Kadar another look, her expression puzzled. "He will have lots to tell us once he wakes up, I'm sure."

"It's a long story," Ahna replied, hiding a yawn behind her hand. Now that Kadar was finally safe, exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders.

"Of this, I have absolutely no doubt." She gave Ahna a quizzical look, before saying, "A room has been prepared for you, Princess Ahnanti. You can use it for as long as you wish to stay at the palace."

Ahna shook her head. "Thank you. For now, I wish to stay by his side. Someone needs to keep an eye on him until he wakes."

Sadie's eyebrows shot toward her hairline and her lips twitched—in amusement? "One of the men on duty can do that."

"True. But I promised him I wouldn't leave him," Ahna replied stubbornly. She knew she needed sleep, but it seemed important that she kept her promise. Her addled mind couldn't quite come up with the reason why at the moment though.

"Could the rumors be true, then?" Sadie mused.

"Which rumor?" She'd only been at the palace for a few hours. What rumors could already be circulating about her?

"I heard that, when you arrived at our doors, you claimed to be Kadar's wife."

Ahna grimaced. She really should have kept that fact to herself, but she'd been so desperate to gain entry. She hadn't spared a thought about the rumors that would certainly multiply like fruit flies after such a confession.

"Hmm," she answered, not sure what else to tell the other woman.

Sadie grinned. "This will be a long story indeed. I can't wait to hear it."

Ahna answered the grin with a wan smile of her own, but still said nothing. She wouldn't have known where to start in any case. Sadie appeared to understand, as she didn't push for an explanation.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and a guard poked his head into the room. "Miss Sadie?"

"Yes, Fahd?"

"When you are done here, Patil's nursemaid requires your assistance."

"Very well," Sadie replied and began collecting the herbs and other ingredients she'd used for her healing and made her way toward the door. Before she left, she turned to Ahna again. "If you need anything, just ask one of the guards and they will help you in any way they can."

"I—tell me. Will those books really allow you to heal His Highness?" Had they completed Kadar's mission, or would all this be for naught?

"I haven't yet had time to study them in detail, but the answer I seek is in there. Kadar's mission was a success." Sadie bowed toward Ahna, her eyes shining suspiciously. "For this, I am the one who needs to thank you."

Ahna dismissed her words with another wave of her hand, not wanting to get emotional for fear that she would break down completely in front the other woman.

Sadie nodded. She closed the door behind her, leaving Ahna alone with her thoughts.

***

If Kadar ever got the urge to take a swim in molasses, he now knew what it would feel like. Cloying, dark, warm... Why was his head pounding as if after a night of too many drinks? He hadn't had a hangover in years. His throat felt as though water hadn't crossed his lips in an eternity. After a moment, he attempted to open his eyes but found the task next to impossible.

_Have I been sick?_ he wondered groggily.

He redoubled his efforts and finally managed to peel open his eyelids. As soon as he did, the sunlight filtering through the room's latticed windows blinded him, and he closed them immediately. The thought of simply letting unconsciousness claim him again was an attractive one, but thirst prevented him from succumbing to it.

He tried to raise his head, but couldn't. His head felt heavier than lead. _Definitely sick..._ His memories were hazy. The room looked like his own, but he couldn't remember how he got there. Hadn't he been on a mission for Jalen at Zammar's northern border?

He forced parched and cracked lips to move, and croaked, "Water."

A hand tightened around his. "Kadar! Thanks the Thousand Spirits—and your ancestors, too—you're awake."

_That voice..._

He found that he could—with great effort—move his head from side to side. On his left, a woman sat, holding his hand in hers. A fall of honey-colored hair framed her face and covered her shoulders, and she wore a traditional Zammarian _kamiz_. Her warm brown eyes gleamed suspiciously as she looked at him. Tears?

"Are these tears... for me?" Her name came back to him, and with it, some of his memories. "Ahna—" The monastery, the pursuit, the poisoned arrow. The encroaching darkness. He hadn't thought he would survive.

Ahna wiped her eyes, and blinked. "I'm not crying."

"How long?" he asked hoarsely. He felt so weak.

"Two days on horseback after you started hallucinating, plus another two days since we reached the palace," she said, smiling wanly. "Sadie was able to cure you of the poison, but said your body needed to heal itself."

_So very much like Jalen's betrothed_ , Kadar thought. _Never cure what time will heal._ He would be eternally grateful to her.

"I survived," he said after a long silence. He squeezed her hands with his. "I always knew you would make it."

Ahna snorted. Kadar thought she might have rolled her eyes at him, too. "You—" She shook her head and sniffed. "I did say I would get you to the palace in time, didn't I?"

After another long silence, he whispered, "Thank you."

Ahna's soft touch disappeared as she and got to her feet and hurried to a part of the room Kadar couldn't quite see. A moment later, she returned with a clay pitcher and an empty glass. Water. He watched her pour with growing avidity. But when the time came to grab the full glass, he realized this was one more thing he couldn't do just yet. His whole body felt like lead.

"Do you need help?"

He grunted.

Fortunately, she didn't comment, and simply went to sit at his head and helped him straighten up enough that he could drink. He let the cool water soothe his parched throat, and drank his fill. "Enough," he finally said, and she let him settle down on the pillows.

After she put the glass and pitcher aside, she returned to his side. More awake and aware of his surroundings now, Kadar noticed the dark shadows under her eyes and the shaking of her hands. When was the last time she had slept?

"I should warn Prince Jalen that you've woken," Ahna said, looking at the door.

"Stay."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Lie down with me."

Her second eyebrow went to join the first one.

"When is the last time you got any sleep?"

She waved this aside. "I've slept."

"When is the last time you slept more than an hour or two at a time?"

"I... don't know," she admitted.

"Lie with me," he repeated softly. "Get some sleep. There will be time to tell Jalen later."

Ahna glanced toward the door and bit her lower lip, clearly torn. But then, she sighed and her shoulders slumped. "You're right. I could do with a few hours of sleep. But I didn't want to leave your side while you were unconscious."

"I won't be going anywhere any time soon. I'll still be there when you wake."

She nodded and settled next to him with a contented sigh.

It took the last of his reserve of energy, but Kadar managed to roll over and wrap his arm around her waist and hold her close.

***

Awareness came back to Ahna in stages. First it was the gentle cadence of muffled voices, then the feel of the luxurious bedding. Eventually it extended to the weight of the arm holding her close and the heat of a body at her back.

Carefully—oh, so carefully—she turned over.

Kadar rested peacefully, braced against a pile of pillows, and Ahna sighed in relief. His skin no longer looked blotchy with fever; his breathing was now even and relaxed in sleep. The lines of pain around his eyes had also eased at some point in the last few hours.

Ahna brushed her fingertips over Kadar's tattoo, and smiled, trying to imagine herself sporting the same mark. She thought she might like it. Now, she only had to convince _him_ she was serious.

"What are you smiling about?" came his sleepy voice.

Ahna let her eyes drift back to his oh-so-impossibly blue ones. "You."

His eyebrow drifted up in silent inquiry.

"I'd like to take your mark," she whispered.

"Ahna." Kadar's tone held reproach. "What about your wish to see Barratal? Your freedom?"

_Barratal?_ It took a moment for her to identify it as the town she'd named as her destination on that first night of their meeting, what seemed like so long ago. "You know as well as I do that it was a lie to keep me from going to Al'Zafyra. I have no wish to visit Barratal."

"You could return to Bathu then. Try to repair your relationship with your father."

She searched his eyes, trying to decipher his motive. "Someday, maybe. But I have no desire to return to him right now, only to live under his rule again."

His lips twitched, but then his face became a stony mask once more. Ahna began to worry that she wasn't getting through to him. What more could she say? "You won't get rid of me that easily, Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar. I know our marriage was one neither of us sought, but I want to try—really try—to make it work. I want to stay with you. And I—" Ahna gulped. Neither of them had ever declared deeper feelings for the other, and she felt a bit exposed. "I love you," she said in a rush, and then bit her lower lip, waiting for his response.

Kadar pulled her closer and kissed her nose. "I would let you go if that is what you really wished, but, truthfully, I don't think I could do so willingly. I came to a realization while I was sick. You have single-handedly made a home for yourself in my heart and I do not wish to be parted from you. Ahna..."

"Yes?" she asked, heart beating madly. Her gaze met Kadar's, and he smiled.

"You are my partner. My wife. And I love you," he murmured, and then he kissed her.

#  Epilogue

The reverberation from Jalen's blade striking his traveled up Kadar's arm and sent searing pain through his healing shoulder. He clenched his teeth and schooled his expression. No reason to let Jalen know how much the blow hurt. He didn't want to admit to still feeling weak. Besides, Jalen would use knowledge to his advantage, and Kadar wasn't ready to lose this mock fight just yet.

Kadar spun his sword and struck over Jalen's guard. The flat of the blade hit Jalen on the arm hard enough to leave a bruise. _Ha!_ Kadar thought in triumph. It wasn't the first strike he'd landed, but it was one of the better ones.

Jalen's sculpted brow rose a fraction, and Kadar barely parried his next flurry of blows, losing what small advantage he'd managed to gain. He stepped back with a grimace, needing a second to fight the pain and catch his breath.

Jalen frowned at him. "Do you want to stop?"

Kadar waved the concern aside with his good hand. "I need the exercise. I've spent too long in bed already."

Jalen snorted softly. "You almost died, my friend. You should _still_ be in bed. If Sadie finds out I let you get up—and worse, train this soon—" It was his turn to grimace. "Well, you know her. She has quite the temper."

"Are you afraid of your own betrothed, Jalen?" Kadar teased.

"More like... appreciative of her fiery personality."

Kadar barked a laugh and saluted sharply, before dropping into a defensive position and waiting for Jalen's next attack. "Speaking of Sadie, how are the cure's preparations going?"

"She tells me she'll be ready by the new moon. She is confident that this time she can dispel the curse completely."

"Now, that is what I call good news." Kadar felt relieved to know Jalen's nightmare was finally coming at an end. His mission had been a success.

"Indeed," Jalen replied and then rushed him, leading with his sword. Blades clashed, and Kadar danced away with less ease than he usually demonstrated. He was tiring fast, in spite of what he'd told Jalen only a few minutes ago.

They traded dominance several times, before Jalen spoke again as he swiped his blade under Kadar's defenses. "Married, eh?"

Kadar evaded the blow, preferring it to a parry that would send another jolt of pain down his wounded arm. Jalen's words sent a thrill of recognition through him. He was married. And Ahna loved him. He struggled to keep his focus on Jalen instead of imagining what he would do to her once Sadie finally gave him permission to resume what she'd called, with a blush, "marital relations." He was still amused that she couldn't say 'sex' with a straight face, knowing the very carnal nature of her relationship with Jalen.

"When I sanctioned this mission," Jalen continued, "I expected your journey to be dangerous. I even accepted you might be wounded, or worst. But I definitely did _not_ expect you to return a full Kanashi warrior, and married to my former intended."

Kadar deflected a blow aimed at his midsection, and then shrugged. "It wasn't anything I planned."

"This I do believe. I am curious to learn how your father managed such a feat. He tried for years without success before now."

Kadar attacked Jalen with renewed energy in an attempt to dispel the irritation he still felt as he remembered his father's manipulations. "To make a long story short, he used Ahna against me. He knew I wouldn't let her marry him or Nur." He assumed Jalen understood enough about Kanashi customs to recognize the implications.

Jalen whistled. "Crafty old dog. Using Ahna against you." He parried Kadar's blade.

"You don't say," Kadar replied, deadpan.

"I'll admit she looks better in person than her portrait led me to believe."

Ahna was not what anyone would consider a great beauty, but that wasn't what had attracted Kadar to her. Jalen was right. No portrait could convey her energy, her strength of character, or that stubborn streak that rivaled Kadar's own.

"Even the best of us would have been hard-pressed to get you back to the palace in time. And she did it all during the worse of the season of rains. Truly impressive. You have chosen your wife very well indeed." Jalen fell silent, leaving the clash of their practice sword as the only sound reverberating around the training room.

"You will be leaving us," he said several minutes later. It wasn't a question.

Kadar lowered his blade, and so did Jalen. Then Kadar sighed and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. He'd had Ahna take the beads out of it a few days back in preparation for a much-needed haircut. "My duty is still to Zammar," he finally answered. "This hasn't changed."

Jalen shook his head. "I am glad to hear it, but your duty never should have been to us. It truly is my boon—and the Kanashi's regret—that past events transpired as they did." Jalen waved a hand to signal the session's end. There was a flurry of activity from the attendants waiting at the edges of the room, ready to do Jalen's bidding. "Leave us," he commanded.

Within moments, the room emptied.

Kadar smothered a laugh at the memory of Sadie's exasperation every time she attempted the same command with little success. His amusement faded again after the attendants left.

"Are you happy?" Jalen asked once they were alone.

"Yes," Kadar said, simply. There was so much more to it than that, but he didn't feel that it needed to be said out loud. Jalen understood; his love for Sadie had only grown since she first saved him from the curse.

"Will you forsake the Kanashi?"

Kadar hesitated, but then sighed. "No."

Jalen nodded. "I didn't think so. As soon as you are fully healed, you will begin interviewing your replacement. I require a year more of your service to train him, and then I absolve you of your avowed obligations, Captain. Champion of Zammar. My friend." Jalen broke into a grin. "Married! And here I thought no woman would ever catch your fancy."

Kadar shrugged. "I offered to give her back her freedom once my mission was completed and we were safe, but she refused." He paused, then smiled ruefully. "I'm glad she did, or I might have had to find some other way to win her back."

Jalen's chuckle quickly turned into a full belly laugh. Kadar glared at his friend, but it didn't stop Jalen from laughing for a full minute before he sobered. He dropped his arm over Kadar's good shoulder and nodded toward the door. "Come, friend. Let's get you back to bed before either of our women find out."

Side by side, the prince and the champion left the training room, and if Kadar leaned a little more heavily on Jalen, neither said anything about it.

### The End

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#  Glossary

###  CAST OF CHARACTERS

Princess Ahnanti 'den Bathu-arazi

King Siddha 'den Bathu-arazi

Amar Ibn' Al-Rajab

Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar

Prince Jalen 'Anaq Al-Jameyri

Nur Ibn' Al-Amar

Fatin Ibn' Al-Amar

Ziya Ibn' Al-Amar

Devdan Ibn' Al-Amar

Eoin

Konani

Nergui

Enoch

Sorel

###  GLOSSARY OF TERMS

The monastery of Al'Zafyra

Kaleros - monks

Kaleras - nun

Kalerii - plural of the above

Aijeleth - Elite soldiers of Al'Zafyra

Al'Zafyra parting statement: May the Thousand Spirits guide you

Qatna - the country Zammar is at war with

kamiz = chemise

salwar = loose pants (harem pants)

oholibah = Zammar's prized courtesans

###  SADIE'S MOM'S BOOKS (TITLES)

_Miotais, Finscéalta agus Draíocht_ = Myths, Legends and Magic

_Luibheanna Íocshláinte agus a n-Só leigheas_ = Medicinal Herbs and their Healing

_Na Déithe Só leigheas: A Cneasaigh Treoir_ = The Gods Heal: A Healer's Guide

_gaineamh aistriú_ = spell name

###  KANASHI WORDS

_kuo = (title) King of Kanashi_

_Sesesu_ = "Fuck"

_Ord unu borum. Gmel kiya_ = "I know you are there. Come out of hiding."

_chi'saru kasesu ijo_ = "Leave the lovers alone."

_R'bu hou-hichi t'ru_ = "take prisoners or leave survivors"

_n'na_ = "enough"

_ga-ito_ = "thank you"

_kiki'te_ = "enemy"

_ki'isu_ = "help"

_shupp'oi_ = goodbye

_kard-ruto gish noiki_ = "right of adulthood" (male)

_gish noiki_ = the tattoos themselves

_Jun'sesesu surkekkon_ = wedding ritual

_kard-jiru_ = "brother"

_kard-sukono_ = "boy" (brother-child)

_kard-ruto_ = "man" (brother-adult)

_kard-oto_ = "father"

_kard-kai_ = "son"

_kard-kuo-tuo_ = kard-kuo (chieftain) __

_tuo_ = 4th

_shdomai-jiru_ = "sister"

_shdomai-sukono_ = "girl" (sister-child)

_shdomai-ruto_ = "woman" (sister-adult)

_shdomai-oto_ = "mother"

_shdomai-kai_ = "daughter"

_Co goonessi selam-i-lıyor_ = The desert sun greets you

_kuo-ilk kabe_ = 1st tribe

_Bana tan-ray, Ahna,_ = let me introduce, Ahna

_aigu goonessi_ = "walk the desert" means dead (like rest in peace)

_selam-bana shdomai-oto?_ = Where is my mom?

_Ito, ki'isu te!_ = Someone help me!

_selam te_ = "it's me"

_selam Devdan_ = "It's Devdan"

_selam-bana i-lıyor?_ = Where were you?

_Ziya ord unu chi'ame._ = Ziya looked everywhere _._

_ame_ = god

_Kamame_ = Rain God's name

_Amesin_ = Rain God

_Seina'ame_ = sacred

_kasesu_ = lovers

_kaseo_ = love

cereus flower = terms of endearment

###  PRINCE JALEN'S HOUSEHOLD

Serafah = attendant

Vara = Head of female staff

Nadia = Young female servant

King Jameyri 'Anaq Al-Ahofe

Queen Devi Al-Jameyri (deceased)

Prince Jalen 'Anaq Al-Jameyri

Consort Sadie Al-Jameyri

Prince Patil 'Anaq Al-Jameyri

Isra - oholibah

Fayza - oholibah

Yasmin - oholibah

Ratan - Queen's guard with loyalty to Jalen

Shyamal - Dungeon guard that lets Kadar go

Prasad - Palace guard for the throne room

Dima - Sadie's handmaiden

Janan - Sadie's handmaiden

Kadar Ibn' Al-Amar - Captain

Marek Al'Patil (deceased)

Yusuf - Lieutenant Guard

Omar - Lieutenant Guard

Abbas - Guard

Issa - Guard

Baqi - Guard

Siddig - Guard

Na'im - Guard

Fahd - Guard

Hakim - Guard

Taj - Guard (deceased)

#  Acknowledgements

We would like to thank our beta readers: Cindy, Deanna, Misty, Ameera, and Whitney for all their assistance on this book. We couldn't have done it without you.

A special thank you to our line editor Sarah. You advised us on exotic clothes, world-building and wrestling commas and grammar into submission, and you helped us make this the best book we could produce.

Thank you Clarissa for being such a fast cover designer. <http://yocladesigns.com/>

If you liked _The Champion of Zammar_ , please leave a review!

#  Contact Us

If you liked _The Champion of Zammar_ , please leave a review!

Thank you and we'd love to hear from you.

Mailing List: eepurl.com/AuNWj

Website: www.samantha-nolan.com

Facebook:www.facebook.com/pages/Samantha-Nolan/657358950946734?ref=hl

Email: samantha.nolan.2013@gmail.com

Other books by Samantha Nolan:

_The Prince of Zammar: Complete Serial_

_The Prince of Zammar 1: Into the Fire_

_The Prince of Zammar 2: Slow Burn_

_The Prince of Zammar 3: Smoldering_

_The Prince of Zammar 4: Rising Heat_

_The Prince of Zammar 5: Up in Flames_

_The Prince of Zammar 6: From the Ashes_

Other books by Nault-Findley:

_Innocence (Shadow War, book One)_

_Betrayal (Shadow War, book Two)_ — Release date in 2015

