The Seeker

4

As impressive as the assembled company was, the latter introduction took Ryana’s breath away. A royal princess of Nibenay, and the daughter of a sorcerer-king, traveling with a merchant caravan! It was absolutely unheard of. The members of the Athasian royal houses rarely left their opulent and well-protected palace compounds, much less their cities, and for this delicate, pampered noble flower to be found on a long journey with a caravan across the entire width of the Athasian tablelands was totally unprecedented. Her presence here not only was shocking, but it also broke with all tradition, and Ryana could not imagine what possible reason the princess could have for being here, or why her family would have allowed it in the first place.

“Please, sit down and join us,” said Lord Ankhor.

In her complete surprise and amazement, Ryana was about to comply with the invitation, but Sorak spoke and broke the spell.

“My sincere apologies, Lord Ankhor. I mean no offense against your generous hospitality, but my vows prevent me from breaking bread with a defiler.” He avoided looking at the princess, though it was clear to all present that it was she to whom he was referring.

Ryana caught her breath. Her own vows, of course, also abjured her from accepting hospitality from a defiler, though she reminded herself that she had already compromised her vows as a villichi priestess by leaving the convent without permission from Mistress Varanna. Sorak had not taken the villichi vows, but they had both sworn to follow the Way of the Druid and the Path of the Preserver, and those were vows Ryana was determined not to break. Nevertheless, by speaking so, Sorak had pronounced an unutterable insult against the Royal House of Nibenay. It was an unforgivable offense.

Surprisingly, the Viscount Torian chuckled. “Well, the elfling certainly has nerve—I will grant him that.”

Of course, Ryana thought, it was not his house that had been insulted. The noble families of Gulg, like those of other cities, were merely aristocrats, not royalty, and if any of them were students or practitioners of the defiler arts, they knew well enough to keep it secret. She looked to the princess for her response, fully expecting outraged fury and a demand that Sorak’s offending tongue, if not his life, be forfeit. Instead, the princess stunned her even more by her reply.

“Lord Ankhor is too well versed in the intricacies of diplomacy and social intercourse to commit such a blunder as inviting followers of the Way to break bread with a defiler,” she said smoothly, her voice as silky as her fine, revealing garments. “Doubtless, you have been wondering what a Royal Princess of Nibenay is doing on a journey with a caravan. I have been exiled from my homeland for committing the unpardonable offense of taking an oath to follow the Druid Way. It would be no breach of your vows to break bread at this table. I, too, am a follower.”

“You?” said Ryana. “But you are the daughter of a sorcerer-king! How is that possible?”

“My mother gave birth to me when she was very young,” Princess Korahna replied, “and her disposition was such that she could not be bothered with the raising of a child. Indeed, such is often the way in royal families, I am told. I was given to a nurse to raise—one of the palace templars—and quite against tradition, she taught me how to read. Although the templars work for defilers, they keep within their libraries copies of the writings of preservers, the better to understand their opposition. At the age of thirteen, I found some of those writings in the library and began to study them in secret, out of curiosity at first. In the end, I was converted.”

“But the oath of the Path of the Preserver must be administered by a preserver,” said Ryana, fascinated.

“And so it was,” the princess replied. “I had taken to disguising myself and stealing out of the palace grounds late at night in hopes of finding a mentor for my studies. I managed to make contact with the Veiled Alliance. After their initial shock upon learning my identity, they were quick to realize the value in having the converted daughter of a sorcerer-king as a member. Still, they were suspicious, and it took a long time for me to gain their trust. In time, they came to realize I was sincere and administered the oath to me.

“But quite by accident, my mother discovered my secret life. For teaching me to read, my templar nurse was executed. When I learned of this, I made plans to publicly renounce my family and announce myself a preserver, but before I was able to do so, my mother had me placed under arrest and exiled from the city.”

“And your father?” Sorak asked. “What was his response?”

“I do not know,” Korahna said. “I am certain that my mother has not even told him, but once they have learned of my fate, the members of the Veiled Alliance are sure to make it public. Nibenay does not concern himself much with his family these days, but he is certain to hear of it. I do not envy my mother when he finds out.”

“Where will you go now?” Ryana asked.

“Wherever Lord Ankhor sees fit to conduct me,” she replied simply. “In a manner of speaking, he is my jailor for the duration of this journey.”

“Now, Your Highness, you do me a grave injustice. You know that is not so,” protested Ankhor. “You will give our guests the wrong impression.” Turning to Sorak and Ryana, he explained, “The House of Ankhor was employed, through intermediaries, by the queen consort herself to escort her daughter on this journey and give her safe conduct. I am by no means her jailor and, as you can see if you only look around you, this is hardly a jail cell.”

“Are you not afraid of what the Shadow King will do when he learns of your involvement?” Sorak asked.

Ankhor merely shrugged. “I have committed no crime,” he said. “In fact, I really had no choice in the matter. The House of Ankhor was hardly in a position to refuse a commission from one of the queen consorts That would have been a grievous insult to the Royal House of Nibenay. To the best of my knowledge, I was merely acting in accordance with the Shadow King’s desires, expressed through his youngest queen.”

“You know very well that is not so!” Korahna said.

“Ah, but do I really know that, Your Highness?” Ankhor replied. “My representatives in Nibenay accepted the commission in good faith on behalf of our house from your mother, the queen consort. They saw to it that you were safely conducted to Gulg and received a first-class berth with this caravan. Viscount Torian himself chose to escort you, in token of the long-standing relationship between his family and our merchant house. I, myself, have only just met you for the first time.”

“And you know how the situation stands, because I have told you,” the princess said.

“You have also told me that you are a self-avowed preserver and an exile from your own kingdom as a result,” Ankhor said calmly. “Under the circumstances, surely I could hardly be blamed for thinking that those were your father’s wishes.”

“As I have said. Lord Ankhor is well versed in the intricacies of diplomacy,” Korahna said. “Especially when it comes to turning those skills to his own ends. I trust my mother paid the House of Ankhor well.”

“Very well, indeed,” Viscount Torian said. “I fail to see the reason for your bitterness. Your Highness Doubtless, your mother was afraid of what the Shadow King would do when he learned of your treachery, for that is how he would see it, surely. A mother’s first instinct is to protect her child. She merely wanted to see you out of harm’s way.”

“And so she cast my fate upon the winds,” Korahna said bitterly.

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Torian replied, “you did that yourself when you first made contact with the Veiled Alliance. In Nibenay, as it is in Gulg, that is a crime punishable by death. You stuck your own head in the noose. You should be grateful to your mother, for it was she who saved your life. Or did you think your father would simply wink at such activities on his daughter’s part? The Shadow King has more children by his many consorts than my entire family has servants. I doubt the loss of one errant daughter, especially one who has become a profound embarrassment to the Royal House, would concern him greatly.”

Ryana followed this conversation with fascination. Sorak merely kept quiet, listening in what appeared to be a distracted manner. She strongly suspected, however, that he was not merely listening. Undoubtedly, he allowed the Guardian to probe the minds of Ankhor, Torian, and Korahna so that he could ascertain the truth. What truly amazed her, however, was Ankhor’s offhandedness about the whole thing. He was not in the least bit concerned about this discussion taking place in front of them. But then again, she thought, why should he be? His position is secure. His house had accepted a commission from the queen consort. To refuse it would have been an insult. Insofar as that went, he was right. He, or Torian and his representatives, truly had no choice.

And if his conduct was called into question, he had no need to concern himself about their bearing witness to it. They were both preservers, and knew what their fate would be if they fell into the hands of a defiler king.

“Must we speak of such depressing matters?” Ankhor said. “We will merely bore our guests. Come, we have a fine dinner set before us, and the wine is of an excellent vintage. Let us enjoy ourselves.”

“Indeed,” Torian agreed. He turned to Sorak. “So you are the one who foiled the marauder plot to sack the caravan from Tyr. I would be most anxious to hear the details of that story.”

“There is little to tell,” Sorak replied. “I merely stumbled on the plot and reported my discovery to the Tyrian Council of Advisors.”

“Surely there is more to it than that,” Torian said. He glanced at Ryana. “I suspect, Priestess, that your friend is being overly modest.”

“He has never been much given to conversation,” Ryana replied.

“An admirable trait,” Torian replied. “Though it does make things a bit one-sided over dinner. What of yourself? Where are you bound on your pilgrimage?”

Ryana hesitated slightly and glanced at the princess, who had fallen into a sullen silence. “Nibenay,” she said.

At that, Korahna glanced up briefly, then quickly averted her gaze.

“Indeed? That is a long journey,” Torian replied. “A pity we cannot accommodate you. This caravan is on its way to Urik”

“So Lord Ankhor told us,” said Ryana. “However, we are grateful for your hospitality. We shall be resuming our journey in the morning.”

“Nibenay is far less hospitable to preservers than is the House of Ankhor,” Torian said.

“True enough,” Lord Ankhor agreed, “but villichi priestesses do not practice magic, and while their order is devoted to the Druid Way, they are not political. Which is to say, my lady, that while you may not find a ready welcome there, it is unlikely that you shall be molested.”

Ryana did not bother to tell him that she was not really on a pilgrimage, at least, not in the way he thought, and that in seeking the Sage, they were embarked upon a quest that was very “political,” indeed.

“I am surprised you chose the northern route around the mountains,” Torian said. “The southern route, by way of Altaruk and Gulg, would have been shorter.”

“The route across the Stony Barrens and over the Barrier Mountains will be shorter still,” she said.

Ankhor and Torian both sat up straighter and stared at her with astonishment. “You plan to cross the barrens?”

Ankhor said. “With all due respect, my lady, that would be most unwise.”

“It would be worse than unwise,” said Torian. “It would be insane.”

“What my young friend means . . .” began Ankhor, in an effort to soften Torian’s remarks, but Torian interrupted him.

“I said precisely what I meant,” he said. He glanced at Sorak. “If you plan to take the priestess through the barrens, then you take her to her death. No man who has attempted to cross the barrens has ever lived to tell the tale.”

“But I am not a man, my lord,” Ryana said. “And neither is my friend. He is an elfling.”

“We do not question your abilities, my lady,” said Lord Ankhor. “It is well known that priestesses of the villichi order are trained from childhood to deal with all manner of adversities, and Sorak here, beyond a doubt, is quite capable and possesses great powers of endurance. But consider the terrain you plan to cross. There is no more rugged and dangerous ground in all of Athas than the Stony Barrens. You will find no forage for yourselves or for your mount. There is no water. The ground is very rocky and difficult to traverse. It is impossible to move quickly. During the day, the sun bakes the barrens until the heat will roast your feet right through your shoes. And that is to say nothing of the predators that lurk there.”

“And even if, by some miracle, you should survive the barrens, you will still need to cross the mountains on the other side,” Torian added. “And take it from one who has traveled in those mountains—it is no easy journey. Nor is it a safe one. Of course, if you try to cross the barrens, you need not worry about crossing the mountains safely. You shall never reach them.”

“He is right,” said Ankhor. “On a map, it is true, the journey may appear much shorter, but a map does not tell the entire story. And no one has ever mapped out the barrens. I urge you, in the strongest terms, to reconsider.”

Ryana was about to reply, but Sorak spoke first. “Doubtless, you and my lord Torian are much more familiar with the country in these parts than we are, and we are grateful for your warning. What route would you advise we take instead?” Ryana glanced at him with surprise, but said nothing.

“Well, from here, whether you travel by the northern or the southern route, the distance would be about the same,” said Ankhor. “However, if you took the southern route, you would be able to stop at Altaruk and rest for a few days until you continued on your journey. The village of Altaruk is the seat of our merchant empire. Mention my name and you will find a warm welcome at the house of my father for as long as you may care to stay.”

“And you may break your journey once again at Gulg,” said Torian, “where you would receive a welcome at my family’s estate, as well.”

“You are both most kind and generous,” said Sorak. “We shall take the southern route, then, and do as you suggest.”

“Well, that is a relief,” said Ankhor. “To think, if Torian had not asked about your route ... We shall not think of what might have transpired.”

“It was fortunate for us, then, that we met you,” Sorak said. “Whatever debt you may have felt you owed me, consider it repaid.”

Ankhor smiled. “Excellent. I do so like it when accounts are balanced. You plan to leave first thing in the morning, then?”

“Yes, since we are to take a longer route, it would be best if we started early,” Sorak said.

“Well, I am not an early riser, myself,” said Ankhor, “so I shall not take offense if you have already departed when I wake. We shall say our farewells tonight, then, and I shall see to it that fresh packs of provisions are prepared for you. May I offer you the use of one of my tents for your accommodations tonight?”

“Thank you,” said Sorak, “but you have already been gracious enough. It is a warm night, and we prefer to sleep under the stars, in the druid manner. We shall make our camp on the far side of the spring, where our early departure will not disturb the others.”

“As you wish,” said Ankhor. “And now, Torian, I really must tell you how our friend, here, saved me from losing my shirt to a devilishly clever cardsharp in a Tyrian gaming house known as the Crystal Spider....”

As they left Lord Ankhor’s tent, carrying the packs he had prepared for them, they circled round the pool of the oasis, heading toward the area where the kanks had been staked down. Ryana glanced at Sorak and said, “You were disingenuous with our host. The Guardian found him to be untrustworthy?”

“I found that Lord Ankhor can be trusted to look after his own interests,” the Guardian replied, coming to the fore to reply to her directly.

“And the Viscount Torian?”

“The Viscount Torian possesses a great deal of self-confidence,” the Guardian said. “He had anticipated the possibility of having his thoughts probed, although he had expected you to be the one to probe them. Telepathy is not one of your talents, of course, but Torian knew that villichi sometimes manifest telepathy as one of their psionic gifts. He did not know if yours was such a gift, but he was prepared for that eventuality.”

“You mean was able to Shield himself?” Ryana asked.

“Quite the contrary,” the Guardian replied. “He kept his thoughts unguarded to show his confidence and display his forthrightness. A most interesting young man. Few people feel so secure with themselves.”

“And what did you find when you looked into his thoughts?”

“Self-interest and a pride born of a sense of his own worth, as well as a strong sense of patriotism for his city. The Viscount Torian is an ambitious man, but he knows how to temper that ambition with a strong dose of practicality and realism. In Princess Korahna, he sees a valuable opportunity. That is why he chose to escort her personally on this journey.”

“What sort of opportunity?”

“The cities of Gulg and Nibenay have a long-standing rivalry, in part born of a conflict over the resources of the Barrier Mountains, and in part as a result of the antipathy of their respective rulers. If Torian were to marry Korahna, he would then have a princess of the Royal House of Nibenay to strengthen his standing not only in Gulg, but in Nibenay, as well. In the past, the Shadow King has not allowed any male children borne by his wives to live, to ensure that none of them could ever threaten his throne. His female children, when they reached the age Korahna is right now, were all taken into the ranks of his templars. Torian knows that since the Shadow King embarked upon his dragon metamorphosis, he has shown no interest in any of his wives. Korahna is the last child he will ever sire. Should Korahna bear a male child by Torian, he would be the only rightful heir to the throne of Nibenay.”

“I see,” Ryana said. “And what of the princess? Or do her desires not count in Torian’s plans?”

They bent down to fill their water bags at the oasis pool. “Torian is confident that he can win the princess by making her come to feel dependent on him. She is a plum that has fallen into his outstretched hand. She has never been away from home before, and now she has been exiled by her own mother. The nurse who raised her has been executed, and she has been separated from her friends in the Alliance. She has no one. Torian intends to take advantage of that fact to insinuate himself into her affections. Once he has done so, he plans to wed her and return with her to Gulg, where as his wife, she can bear him a son to claim succession to the throne of Nibenay.”

“And what of Korahna’s taking the vows of a preserver?” asked Ryana.

“He does not see that as an impediment,” the Guardian replied. “He suspects that it may be no more than a youthful indiscretion, but if not, it is something he can still turn to his advantage. A successor to the throne who is raised as a preserver would win ready support among the downtrodden people of the Shadow King. And such an heir would receive the backing of the Veiled Alliance, as well.”

Ryana nodded. “Yes, I can see that. The Viscount Torian is, indeed, ambitious. Clever, too.”

“And utterly unscrupulous,” the Guardian added. “Torian has no sympathies for either preservers or defilers. He would follow whichever path gave him the most advantage. Torian cares only about Torian.”

“Poor Korahna,” Ryana said. “Though she has been raised in pampered luxury, I still feel sorry for her. It seems not even princesses are immune to the machinations of ambitious men.”

As they made their way to a stand of palm trees where they would bed down for the night, Sorak came to the fore once again. “Korahna has no intention of allowing herself to become a pawn in Torian’s game. She is perceptive, and knows just what his intentions are.”

“What will she do?”

“Escape,” said Sorak. “In fact, she plans to do it tonight.”

“But how?” Ryana asked. “Where would she go, in the middle of the desert?”

“With us,” said Sorak, “across the Stony Barrens.”

“What?” said Ryana with disbelief.

“Torian would never suspect a pampered princess of planning to escape into the desert,” Sorak said. “There are but two guards at the entrance to her tent. She plans to cut her way out the back and come to us tonight.”

“What makes her think that we shall take her with us?”

“We are fellow preservers,” Sorak said. “She cannot believe we would refuse, especially after we have seen how the situation stands. And even if we did refuse, she could accuse us of trying to steal her away.”

“Then we must leave at once,” Ryana said, gathering her things.

“No,” said Sorak. “We shall wait and take her with us.”

Ryana stared at him with astonishment. “Have you lost your mind? Ankhor’s mercenaries would be on our trail in an instant!”

“But they would seek us on the southern route, to Altaruk,” said Sorak. “After taking pains to tell us of the dangers we would face if we tried to cross the Stony Barrens, they would never think that we had gone that way, especially with the princess.”

“This is madness!” said Ryana. “That pampered palace flower could not survive a trek across the barrens. She would only slow us down, and doubtless burden us with her complaints every step of the way.”

“I thought you felt sorry for her,” Sorak said.

“Perhaps, but she would be far better off with Torian than with us on a trek across the barrens. What purpose would be served in taking her with us? Or is it that you have become taken with her beauty?”

“Jealousy does not become you, Ryana,” Sorak said. “If I were capable of being smitten by a woman, that woman would be you. But you know that could never be, however I may wish it. It is not Korahna’s beauty I desire, but her connections with the Veiled Alliance in Nibenay. She could make our task much easier.”

“So instead of being Torian’s pawn, she will be ours,” said Ryana.

“That, too, is unjust,” said Sorak. “She longs to return home, to her friends in the Alliance, the only friends she has ever truly known. They can protect her and provide her a home. We shall take her to them. In return we ask only for an introduction. That is more than a fair exchange, and no one shall be used.”

Ryana took a deep breath and expelled it in a heavy sigh. “I cannot argue with your logic,” she said. “But I do not relish the prospect of dragging a spoiled princess across the Stony Barrens. The journey shall be hazardous enough without her.”

“True,” Sorak agreed. “But quite aside from the fact that bringing her along will serve our purpose, you know as well as I that it is the proper thing to do. Spoiled or not, pampered or not, princess or not, she is a fellow preserver, and we cannot turn a deaf ear to her request for aid.”

“No, we cannot,” Ryana admitted sullenly. “She knows it, too. But what if she is caught trying to escape?”

“Then we can do nothing,” Sorak said. “It is up to her to make her bid for freedom. After that, she will have ample opportunity to test her commitment to her preserver vow. We shall wait until an hour before first light. If she has not joined us by then, we shall be on our way. Lie down and get some rest. The Watcher will remain on the alert.”

They did not have long to wait. The campfires burned low as the caravan bedded down for the night and silence descended upon the oasis. Shortly after midnight Ryana awoke to Sorak’s hand gently squeezing her arm. She came awake immediately, sitting up quickly, and saw him press a finger to his lips. A moment later, she heard the soft sound of light footsteps approaching. A shadowy, hunched figure in a dark cloak moved across the ground, searching the area.

“Korahna,” Sorak said, softly, as she drew near. She froze for a moment, then saw them and quickly made her way toward the stand of palm trees.

“You expected me?” she said, with surprise. Then an expression of sudden comprehension flickered across her hooded features. “Of course,” she said, looking a*

Ryana “You read my thoughts.”

Before Ryana could correct her, Sorak said, “We must not lose any rime. We shall depart at once. I will get the kank.”

He moved off quickly into the darkness.

“I am profoundly grateful to you for your aid,” Korahna said. “And I can understand the reason for haste. Ankhor’s mercenaries will give chase when they learn that I am gone. We must gain time to outdistance their pursuit.”

Ryana said nothing. She merely looked at the princess, who had brought nothing with her in the way of provisions, not even a water bag. The jeweled dagger she wore at her waist was clearly more an ornament than a weapon. It was doubtful that she knew how to use it. She wore a light cloak and the same silky costume she had worn to dinner, and on her delicate feet she wore merely a pair of light sandals. Walking in the desert, those sandals would not last even a day. In the barrens, they would be shredded in no time at all. They did not need this added burden. Perhaps Sorak was right and the princess would be of help to them in contacting the Alliance once they reached Nibenay, but looking at her, Ryana had grave doubts that Korahna would last out the journey. She would be an enormous handicap to them.

Sorak returned shortly with the kank following behind. There was a soft thump as something landed in the dirt at Korahna’s feet. “Put these on,” said Sorak.

Korahna looked down and saw a pair of thick, hide moccasins lying at her feet.

“Those flimsy sandals will not last an hour in the desert,” Sorak said. “I took these off a guard watching the pack beasts. By the time he is discovered, bound and gagged, we shall be long gone.”

Korahna looked up at Sorak with disbelief. “You expect me to wear the footgear of a caravan guard?” she said with disgust. “Once his filthy feet have soiled them?”

“You will find it preferable to going barefoot in the barrens,” Sorak said.

“The barrens?” she said. “But ... I thought. . .. Surely, you do not still plan to go that way?”

“If we were to take the southern route, the mercenaries would run us down by midday, at the latest,” Sorak said. “This way, we stand a chance of eluding them.”

“But ... no one has ever crossed the barrens and lived!” Korahna said.

“Then we shall be the first,” said Sorak. “Or you can remain behind with Torian, marry him, and bear his child so that he will have a claim on Nibenay. The choice is yours. But decide now. We are going.”

A look of panic came into Korahna’s eyes. “Wait! At least give me time enough to lace up these moccasins!” She crouched, removed her sandals, tied them to her gold link belt, and, wrinkling her nose, proceeded to lace up the moccasins Sorak had taken from the guard. Sorak had already started to move off with the kank. Ryana lingered a moment, looking at the princess, then followed him. Moments later, Korahna came running to catch up with them.

They headed away from the oasis, due east.

“Will we not ride?” Korahna said.

“When we have gone some distance from the spring,” said Sorak. “In the meantime, keep to the loose, sandy ground. The wind will cover our tracks completely in an hour or so, and by then we should have reached the outskirts of the barrens. Avoid stepping on anything that grows, lest you break a twig that could give away our trail to a tracker.”

“These moccasins are too big,” Korahna said.

“Did you lace them tightly?” Sorak asked.

“Yes, but what if I get blisters on my heels?”

“Then you shall have to walk upon your toes,” said Sorak.

“How dare you take such a tone with me? You will address me as Your Highness!”

“Why? I am not your subject.”

“But I am a princess!”

“One without a kingdom, at the moment,” Sorak reminded her. “I am not Torian, and have no pressing need to curry favor with you. Remember, it is you who came to us to ask a boon. We have granted it because you took a vow as a preserver. To me, that is all that matters.”

Korahna turned to Ryana and asked, “What have I done that he must treat me so rudely?”

“You have become an unnecessary burden to us,” said Ryana. “And a source of annoyance, besides. If I were you, I would cease complaining and conserve my energy. You will need all you have for the journey still ahead of us.”

Korahna gazed at Ryana helplessly, surprised to find support lacking from another woman, and a fellow preserver, at that. She fell silent and walked along behind them, taking care to watch where she stepped, so that she would leave no broken plants to give away their tra.l, as Sorak had cautioned her.

It was not long before she began to fall behind—Sorak slowed his pace somewhat, but did not stop for her.

Ryana grew more and more impatient. Torian was no fool, and Ankhor’s mercenaries knew their trade Doubtless, there were good trackers among them, and though they would undoubtedly assume that they had taken the southern trail to Altaruk, it probably would not be very long before they realized their error. How. ever, even mercenaries would hesitate to follow them into the barrens, and the sooner they reached them, the safer they would be. Safe from pursuit, at least, Ryana reminded herself, for there would be little safety in the barrens.

After a little over an hour’s time, they had reached the outskirts of the barrens, where the ground gradually became more broken and irregular. They still had at least four hours or so before dawn. Ryana glanced back to see how well the princess was keeping up. Not very well. As Korahna hurried to catch up with them, she suddenly saw Ryana unlimbering her crossbow and quickly fitting a bolt. She stopped, and her eyes grew wide as she saw Ryana draw back the bow and raise it in one smooth motion. “What are you doing? No! Don’t!” The crossbow bolt flew through the air with a whizzing sound, passing inches from Korahna’s head as she cried out and, with a soft thwok, struck something just behind her. Korahna turned just in time to see a medium-sized drake falling over onto its side, the bolt from Ryana’s crossbow embedded deep in its reptilian brain. It was about six feet long and as thick in the body as a man. It spasmed on the rock-strewn ground, its tail thrashing behind it in death reflex—Korahna cried out and recoiled from the creature, throwing her hands up to her face.

“If I had not thought to turn around, that would have been the end of you, Your Highness,” Ryana said, stressing her title in a sarcastic tone. “Do try to keep up, won’t you?”

“That horrible beast!” Korahna said. “You saved my life!”

“Can we proceed now?” Sorak said.

He saw that Korahna was already limping slightly as she came up. The moccasins were thick, but her delicate feet were clearly unaccustomed to the task of walking in the desert. He crouched before her and unlaced the left moccasin.

She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder to balance herself as he raised her left foot to examine it. There was a large blister on her heel that had ruptured. It had to be quite painful for her, yet she had not uttered one word of complaint.

“Perhaps you had better ride for a while,” he said, as he laced the moccasin back up. “I will examine your foot later in case the wound should fester, but it is better not to stop now.”

Korahna glanced at the kank with trepidation. “I have never ridden on a kank,” she said. “Torian had a carriage for me—”

“Ryana,” Sorak said. “Put her up behind you.” Ryana mounted the kank, then helped Korahna up. “Just settle your weight and hold onto my waist until you become accustomed to the gait,” she said. She looked at Sorak. “What about you?”

“There is no point in overburdening the kank,” he said. “I will go on foot. The kank cannot move quickly across this broken ground. It will be no hardship to keep up.”

They continued on. The ground became more irregular and rocky as they traveled, heading east and going deeper into the barrens. The kank did not move much more quickly than they had when they were walking and being slowed down by Korahna. The giant beetle had to pick its way carefully over the rock-strewn terrain, which only grew worse. At some time in the distant past of Athas, a glacier must have moved across the desert, and here it stopped, depositing the rocks it had torn up from the soil in its slow advance. Before long, following a straight course became impossible, and they had to wind their way among the boulders in a serpentine manner.

Ryana had to give the princess credit. She had expected ceaseless whining and complaining, but Korahna kept silent, even though her foot must have pained her, and her rounded buttocks, more accustomed to soft litter cushions and thick beds than the hard, ridged armor of a kank’s thorax, must have been quite sore. Before long, the sky began to lighten as the sun’s rays started to tint the horizon.

“How long before they discover you are missing, assuming they did not find you gone during the night?” Ryana asked.

“I have never been disturbed after I retired to my tent,” Korahna said. “Torian gave strict orders on that account. And Ankhor said that he is not an early riser. Still, the caravan drivers were all awake and at their cookfires by the time I dressed and joined the others. Torian always came to see that had risen, though he would merely call my name from outside the tent. And that was perhaps two hours after dawn.”

“Then we still have a few hours before they discover you are missing,” said Ryana, calculating mentally. “Assuming that they mount a quick pursuit and send a parry down the southern route in an attempt to overtake us, that should add perhaps another few hours before they realize their mistake. The caravan is not likely to depart without you, so they will wait back at the spring until the pursuing party has returned. That will add a few hours more. With luck, we shall have almost a full day’s start on them if they decide to follow us into the barrens.”

“Do you think they shall?” Korahna asked.

“Perhaps not,” Ryana said, “but if I were Torian, I would. You are too valuable a prize for him to give up so easily, and he struck me as an ambitious and determined man.”

“I knew what he wanted,” said Korahna. “I never would have given it to him.”

“Then when he wearied of employing patience, he would have taken it by force,” Ryana said. “That is what men do. At least, so I have heard.”

“Sorak seems different,” said Korahna, watching him as he walked ahead of them.

“That is because he is different,” said Ryana.

“He is not your mate?”

“Villichi do not take mates.”

“And yet you love him.”

“What makes you think so?”

“I can hear it in your voice when you speak of him. And I can see it your eyes when you look upon him. I may be young, but I am a woman, and a woman knows such things. I have not lived so sheltered a life as you may suppose. At least, not in recent years.”

“Sorak is like my brother. We grew up together.”

“You do not look at him as if he were your brother.”

“And if that is so, then what concern is it of yours?” Ryana asked sharply.

“It is no concern of mine,” Korahna said softly, “I was merely trying to know you better. I did not intend to give offense.”

Ryana said nothing.

“What have I done to cause you to dislike me?” asked Korahna.

“It is not you so much as what you are,” Ryana said.

“A princess,” said Korahna. “An aristocrat?”

“A woman who has never learned to take care of herself,” Ryana said. “One who has lived in idle, pampered luxury all her life, supported in her comforts by the toil of others, her wants and needs secured at the expense of those less fortunate than herself.”

“That is all too true,” Korahna said, “and yet my fate was not of my own choosing. I could not help the manner in which I was born. I chose neither my father nor my mother. And for much of my life, I was ignorant of how others lived. I thought that everyone lived much the same as I did. I was fifteen years old before I ever set foot outside the palace compound, and that in stealth, at no small risk to myself. When I saw how most of the people really lived, I was deeply shocked and moved to tears. I had never realized. ... I knew then that things were wrong in Nibenay and vowed that if it was in my power to change them, I would do everything I could to try. But I knew that I was I equipped for such an effort. In that regard, you are so much more fortunate than I.” “I?” Ryana said. “More fortunate than you?” “I would give anything to have been born with your gifts,” Korahna said. “The villichi reside in the Ringing Mountains, do they not?”

“Yes,” Ryana said.

“To live free in the mountains, to walk in the forest and sit by a stream, listening to the water over the rocks... I have never even seen a stream, only a spring in an oasis. I was taught nothing of the land or of the wild beasts. I was never taught to cook, or sew, or weave. Such things are beneath a princess, I was told, though I would have loved to learn them. And if a princess cannot even cook or sew, then she surely cannot fight. My body is soft and weak, while yours is strong and firm. I could not even draw that crossbow that you wield so expertly, and I would probably lack the strength even to lift your sword. I despise the life that I have lived, and I envy yours. I would trade places with you in an instant. Would you be so quick to take my place?”

Ryana did not answer for a moment, studying her companion. Then, after a pause, she replied simply and cooly, “Of course not.”

“You think I want to go back so that I may resume my former life?” Korahna said. “So that f may beg forgiveness from my mother and renounce the vow I took? No. I would rather die out here in the desert, which I yet may do. But if I survive this journey, I return to Nibenay not to resume my former life, but to begin a new one, not as a princess, but a preserver in the service of the Veiled Alliance. I know no magic, that is true, but i may yet be of some use to them is as a symbol, then so be it. i t is better than being of no use whatsoever.”

Again, Ryana did not respond immediately. In spite of herself, she was warming to the princess. “I may have misjudged you,” she said at last.

“I could not blame you if you did,” Korahna said “In truth, I do not know if anyone could truly judge her life as harshly as I have judged my own.”

“Perhaps not,” Ryana said. “But it is never too late to begin anew. One can always learn, if the desire is there.”

“I have that desire. Would you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“Everything! How to be more like you.”

Ryana had to smile. “That would take quite a bit of teaching.”

“Then teach me what you say I lack the most,” Korahna said. “Teach me how to take care of myself. Show me how to fight!”

Ryana laughed. “And this from a woman who moments earlier said she could not even lift a sword!”

“If you will show me how, then I shall make the effort,” said Korahna.

“You say that now,” Ryana said, “but when it comes time to make the effort, you may sing a different tune.”

“I won’t.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Ryana drew her sword. “Very well,” she said. “Take this.” She handed it over her shoulder, to Korahna. “We will have our first lesson.”

“On the back of a kank?”

“It will serve as well as any other place. You said you wished to learn.”

“I do.”

“Fine, then. Hold the sword out away from your body, at arm’s length.”

She heard Korahna grunt softly as she complied, holding it in her right hand. “It is heavier than it appears.”

“It will grow heavier still.”

“Now what?”

“Just hold it there.”

“For how long?”

“Until I say that you can put it down.”

They rode awhile that way, with Korahna holding the sword out away from her body, and Ryana glancing over her shoulder every now and then to check on her. Little by little, the sword began to drop as Korahna’s arm wearied of the effort, but each time Ryana glanced at her, she gamely raised it once again, gritting her teeth with the effort. Finally, when her arm could take the strain no more, the sword began to waver in her grasp and it dropped lower and lower as her arm bent, unable to keep it up any longer. Ryana glanced over her shoulder to see Korahna’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, her lips compressed, her face turning red as she struggled to hold the sword up.

“All right, you may lower it,” she said.

Expelling her breath heavily, Korahna lowered the sword, resting it against the kank’s hard shell. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily once more. “My arm feels as if it is on fire!” she said, with a soft moan.

“Sore?” asked Ryana.

“Exceedingly so.”

“Good. Now take the sword in your other hand and raise it with your left arm.”

“My... left arm?”

“The proper response is, ‘Yes, Sister,’” Ryana said. “Come, come.” She snapped her fingers sharply.

Korahna sighed heavily. “Yes, Sister,” she said, with resignation and raised the sword with her left arm.

Ryana smiled. Pampered, maybe, she thought. But spoiled? Perhaps not. Time would tell.