The Book of Terrus: A Land of Sunlight

Chapter 22 - Warring Loyalties

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Closing the door to the banquet hall behind them, Rhadu A'Khet turned to his intended.

"So?" He hadn't meant to sound quite so tentative, but Princess Ellorae was a difficult woman to read. "What are your impressions of my family?"

Fresh off a dinner with Rhadu's relatives, both immediate and extended, Ellorae hardly appeared perturbed. If anything, she had conducted herself throughout the meal as if she had known the nobles of Clan A'Khet her whole life. That was not to say that the princess had been overtly warm and friendly toward her future kin. Rather, her demeanor had been one of utmost security in her right to sit at that table. Never once had Ellorae exhibited the subtle eagerness-to-please, the anxious desire for acceptance so often characteristic of young brides. She had addressed each and every member of Rhadu's family directly, asking and answering questions with neither hesitation nor reservation. The sun was barely set upon Ellorae's first day in The Weeping Keep, and already she knew more about the inner workings of Clan A'Khet than most of its common-born clansfolk, if only thanks to the sheer volume of blunt questions she had plied upon Rhadu, his aging parents, and the rest of the A'Khet leadership over entrees. Thirty-four years of insider's experience told Rhadu that his family was both intrigued and somewhat perplexed by the Amentherian princess. He had no such intimate understanding of Ellorae though, and so could only wait for her to tell him her thoughts...or not.

"Clan A'Khet has done well for itself in the five years you have held The Weeping Keep. I am reassured that your family stands unified enough to contend with the presence of the other six clans for our wedding."

"To be honest, I am not entirely comfortable myself with the notion of such a gathering. Are you entirely sure about this? Inviting all seven clans to Derbesh at once? There are deep rivalries between many of the eimirs...enmities, even."

Ellorae cocked her head up at him, setting the clustered garnets dangling from her ears twinkling. Rhadu was a tall man, while the princess was short and slight, but somehow, she managed to look him directly in the eye without so much as craning her neck.

"I know. Nearly everyone west of The Teeth knows how famously at-odds the seven clans are. That will have to change though, if the east is to claim its status as a self-governed province. My brother will be quick to exploit any weaknesses in defense of his crown."

"And you think our marriage can do that? Overcome centuries of grudges and bad blood? The Hanara Desert is a harsh land, Your Highness, and it has crafted harsh histories between our people. Lord Kirben G'Hesh is also angry twice-over, now that the crown has rejected his eldest son's pursuit of your hand in favour of my own."

Ellorae shrugged. Crossing the floor of the parlor – her slippers making barely a dent in the lush, fabulously intricate carpets – she claimed a seat on the low sofa and signaled for wine.

"Word will spread quickly of my speech today," she said as a servant filled three goblets. "Do you truly believe that the clans will be so determined to quarrel inward amongst themselves with an enemy like the King of Goran looming large? You yourself saw how the people reacted to the notion of a Wal ruling once again from The Weeping Keep."

Rhadu still had his doubts. He had grown up in the nomadic encampments of the Hanara Desert. Although Clan A'Khet enjoyed a large span of coastline territory, as well as a border onto the Hiisa Oasis, that also meant that they were forever having to defend their lands from incursions against the other clans. Clan G'Hesh and Clan R'Tor were among the most aggressive when it came to border disputes, and he could still remember a stand-off at the oasis when he was a boy which had claimed the life of his favourite uncle. As much stake as Rhadu himself had in a united east, the thought of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Kirban G'Hesh still rankled him.