The Queen's Blade (Book 1)

Chapter 15

Kerrion returned to his desert city in a glorious fashion. Thousands lined the way to his palace, cheering and tossing precious flowers in his path. He wondered at the hero’s welcome bestowed upon a prince who had been the Jashimari Queen’s prisoner and released at her behest. There was nothing heroic about his ignominious return to the desert, dressed in Jashimari clothes and riding a steed the Queen had provided. Upon reaching the Cotti camp, he had almost been shot before he was recognised. The well hidden, pitying looks of his senior officers had annoyed him greatly. In their eyes, at least, his captivity had reduced his stature.

Once dressed in Cotti clothes again, he had been joyously reunited with his familiar, Kiara, who had been caged during his absence to prevent her from following him and being killed. Fortunately, the officer who had discovered his abduction had had the foresight to cage the bird before she had woken on that fateful morning. With her perched upon his shoulder once more, he had compounded his unpopularity in the eyes of his men by announcing that he wished to have a Jashimari slave, and ordered that all the slaves in the camp be brought for his inspection. Twenty dull-eyed boys and fifteen frightened girls had been brought before him. Kerrion had ordered that they be taken to the mountain pass and released, which had incited angry mutters from some of his bolder officers. He had informed them that slavery was banned under his rule, and any slaves found would be released and their owners punished. A few officers had voiced protests to this, but his glare had silenced them.

Three days later, he had set off on the two-tenday journey to the city, where he would face his brothers and the ordeal of his coronation. The pale metropolis shimmered in the heat, its buildings constructed primarily from white stone or whitewashed to reflect the fierce sun. Tall palms shaded the wide, paved roads, and patches of verdure grew next to mansions and temples. Awnings extended from shops to cool their bland interiors and invite the heat stricken to enter their tempting shade. The throngs of sun-bronzed Cotti that lined the way to wave and cheer their prince provided thirsty patrons for roadside taprooms and teahouses after he passed.

Kerrion still wore a prince’s silver circlet as he reined in his horse in front of the sweeping marble steps that led to the pillared archways of his father’s palace. The tall, gilded domes glowed in the sun atop pale walls built by master crafters in a previous age. He dismounted before the roaring crowds that cordons of soldiers held at bay, and turned once to wave before mounting the steps, his officers flanking him. The noise was left behind as he entered the cool, bare halls of the palace, a building that had outgrown its furnishings and whose grandeur was marked by an echoing emptiness, apart from a few cosy rooms. The scarcity of wood made it impossible to fill the many chambers with anything other than stone statues and a few paintings.

Liveried servants bowed and took his dusty white cloak, brushing sand from his tunic with its silver sun emblem, while others ushered him towards his private quarters. He did not expect to reach them unmolested, and was not surprised when Lerton confronted him with a supercilious sneer. His younger brother, resplendent in foppish finery of pale yellow linen with gold trappings, bowed mockingly.

“Welcome home, Sire,” he jeered.

Kerrion frowned, his fatigue making him curt. “I am not in the mood for your antics, Lerton. I am tired and I want a bath. Get out of my way.”

Lerton hopped aside. “Whatever you say, Sire! Your word is my command.”

Kerrion stalked past, and Kiara spread her wings to keep her balance.

Lerton fell into step beside him. “Did you enjoy the hospitality of the Jashimari Queen?”

“I was a prisoner.”

Lerton laughed. “Aye, taken prisoner by a woman!”

Kerrion stopped and swung to face his brother, causing Kiara’s claws to dig into his shoulder. Lerton eyed him, and the various retainers stepped back. Because they had different mothers, Lerton was a mere two moons younger than Kerrion. He took after his father, a broad bear of a man, despite being the kin of snakes. His familiar, a pale golden stone snake with enough venom to give a man a bad headache, was coiled around his neck. The half-brothers looked nothing alike, since Lerton owned blunt features, ash blond hair and dark brown eyes.