Blackjack Wayward

Chapter Six

After Drovani left, I wasn’t in the mood, especially with the two “guards” watching my every move. I waved the girls off and took a robe that one of them offered me when I got out of the pond. It was far too small, so I just dried myself with it and followed the girls to my chambers. The room was large but spartan, with a simple bed and washbasin, and a bucket for my necessities.

One of the guards, whose name I had already forgotten, came inside and barked some orders at the girls, clearing them out. The fellow was as stern as Drovani, but younger, slimmer, if such a thing was possible, wearing heavy golden armor with ornate etchings. He herded the girls out with his spear and bowed to me, turning to follow them.

“Wait a second,” I told him.

He paused, bowing again.

“What is your name?”

“Elgar,” he said, maintaining his bow.

“And the other guy is, Thro–”

“Hroneth. My caste-mate.”

“Got it. Can someone get me some clothes?”

Elgar looked up for a moment, confused.

“I’m sitting in my underwear here,” I said, motioning to the simple loincloth.

“You are to be Seshine,” he said simply. “You do not wear clothes.”

“Oh really? Well this one does. I don’t like my junk flopping around, you know?”

He shook his head, conflicted between the need to serve me, and the rules of his people.

“Look at it this way,” I said. “I’m not Seshine yet.”

It took him a few moments to follow my logic, but he nodded a few times and left the room. Moments later, the girls returned. At least I thought it was the same group. I only recognized the one that had pressed against me. She carried a bundle of cloth and her companions brought baskets with thread and metallic adornments. The two guards also came in and took positions on either side of me, their spears ready.

“What are you doing?” I asked Elgar, who was discernible from Hroneth because he was about an inch taller and had a much slighter build. Hroneth had the look of a bulldog, with large shoulder muscles that made it seem as if he had no neck.

“We will protect you in case they harm you with the needle. Seshine shall not spill his blood until the bonding rituals.”

I reached out to one of the baskets and held up a threaded needle. It was tiny, even when compared to the ones I was used to.

“This could never hurt me,” I said, poking myself with it and showing the guards my pristine forearm. I did the same with a pair of scissors to the same effect.

Elgar eyes widened, “Those are sharp, Seshine.”

“Not sharp enough,” I said. “Just stand down, guys. Let them do their thing and–” I paused because the girl with the scissors had cut off my loincloth, leaving me stark naked.

The Vershani looked at my nakedness and were all aghast, one of the girls going so far as to cover her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling a sudden rush of blood to my face.

Hroneth smiled, he was the less severe of the two.

“You are disgusting, Seshine.”

“What?”

“Like a dirty bull Czentok.”

I looked down at myself not understanding what he was talking about. I’m a big guy, so I’m big all over, but it wasn’t something I ever gave much thought and suddenly, here was a room full of these wretched creatures laughing at my pecker. Elgar hushed the girls, who were staring dumbfounded at me, but not in wonder. More like genuine shock and disgust.

“What are they saying?” I asked Hroneth.

“They were commenting on how filthy a Czentok male is.”

“What the hell is a Czentok?”

Elgar shot a guarded glance at his companion, and Hroneth just shook his head. “It is nothing. Forgive me, Seshine.”

“No, no. I want to know. What the hell is it?”

Hroneth looked back at Elgar who just shrugged.

“It is a hairy beast, low to the ground and powerful. A Vershani warrior must kill one when he is....” he paused, not knowing how to translate a word.

“Grown,” Elgar assisted.

“Yes, when he is grown to adulthood.”

“And their...?” I motioned to my pelvic area.

“It is hairy and dirty. And big, like a man’s arm.”

I laughed.

I got to like the two guards, Elgar and Hroneth, who as time passed became friendly. The girls remained nervous while they stayed, but they worked diligently, making me a sort of Roman toga-like garment that was both comfortable and form-fitting. They decorated me with silver and gold adornments, including the pair of bracers I had taken as booty. The women fitted it as an overlay to a set of leather bands that took some time to size, encrusting it with gems of topaz and amber that bore the mark of my station, the Seshine. One of the girls made me a pair of sandals, though there was some amusement when she measured my foot.

“A Czentok?” I asked Hroneth, causing all the Vershani to laugh or giggle.

Hroneth shrugged, and his mate motioned to his foot, displaying what was probably a woman’s size five.

“Big is....” Elgar struggled to find the right word.

“Stupid,” Hroneth finished for him, not caring if he hurt my feelings or not. “Stupid and clumsy.”

Then I understood. Since they were a smaller species, they associated large size with brutishness and stupidity.

Hroneth started acting like a clumsy fool, showing me what he meant, dropping his spear and picking up, slamming it into his face. It was like watching a bad version of Rowan Atkison’s Bean character, struggling with the spear.

“Keshek,” Hroneth said. “That’s what we call those that are big and daft.”

Elgar fought to hold back a laugh.

“I like Keshek more than Seshine.” I said. “Sounds like something you eat with chopsticks.”

Hroneth scratched his head. “Keshek we cull when they are young. The city priests use a eethush....” he looked at Elgar.

“A hammer.”

“Yes, this,” Hroneth continued. “The priest hits it into the Keshek boy’s head and he is dead. The body we toss on the street for the dogs to eat.”

I looked at them, hoping they were joking, hoping that their people couldn’t be so absurdly brutal, but neither flinched. It was something they were used to, something almost irrelevant.

“And the parents?”

“Most times the father will dispose of Keshek long before that,” Elgar said, matter-of-factly. “It is a great dishonor to the caste.”

“Dispose of the wife too. Keshek is bad news, Seshine.”

I couldn’t contain my horror, wanting the whole conversation to end, but Hroneth was unaware of my displeasure, and eager to share his culture. “Wife we take to city priest. He cuts her apart and takes her womb to flame. To cleanse the caste.”

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“Eethush,” Hroneth corrected, thinking I had misspoken the name of their ritual hammer. “But no, priest uses a Corzo blade to open the woman. It is fast, she will bleed out in moments.”

Elgar said something in his language that made Hroneth smile.

“What is it?”

“He calls me a liar,” Hroneth said.

“It is not fast, Seshine,” Elgar said. “It is agonizing for them.”

“I was trying to make it easier for you,” the other added. “You look like a woman who is with the child sickness.”

“Me?”

Hroneth laughed, motioning at my face. “You show worry, so I meant to soften the words.”

“So it’s pretty bad, huh?”

Elgar continued, “The female’s insides are cut apart and thrown to the flames while she still lives. The priest makes a spell ... magic, you know this?”

I nodded.

“It binds the flesh as one, even if it already outside of her.”

I looked at them, confused.

Hroneth motioned at two things, one in each hand. Then did as if one was burning, then the other, and he smiled when I finally understood.

After the girls were finished, they bowed and left the room. The two guards resumed their posts outside, and I had the feeling of a man in prison. I walked to the door and found it unlocked, but just as I peeked out; Elgar came over, barring my way.

“You need anything, Seshine?” one of the girls said.

I shook my head and went back inside.

They hadn’t let me keep one of the girls in the room, nor had they let me stay with them by myself. When I gestured to the bed, letting the guards know what I meant to do with her, they just scoffed.

“They are just chamber girls,” Hroneth said.

So I was alone, and kept at bay. I could beat both guards, and the next hundred, but then what? Take the ship? No, I was a prisoner by my own doing, and despite the soft bed and a balcony that gave me an impressive view from the rear of the ship, I would have rather been back on the pirate ship, whose name I couldn’t remember.

I would have rather been anywhere but here.

The balcony looked cramped, designed for a shorter people, so I just leaned against the glass, looking at the swirling purple and orange skies of Shard World, wondering if I would ever find my way home. There was a way, hidden out there in the mists, a machine I had built with Mr. Haha’s help that now lay abandoned atop one of the smaller shards. But it would be nearly impossible to find without my own ship. Shard World was many thousands of miles across, and besides, to get the thing working again I would need a special focusing crystal that I might never find. We had carved one out of the back of the behemoth beneath the lakes that I had ridden to defeat the Mist Army. After the battle, in our desperate escape, I had lost sight of the monster, so it had quite likely fallen off into the void, lost forever. Along with all my hopes of ever returning home.

It was hopeless, I knew that now, but there was no way to settle into the new paradigm, no way to get used to living among a race of creatures with a culture that made ancient Sparta look benevolent and kind by comparison. It was either that or a band of pirates who would just as soon toss me overboard in my sleep. There had been no goodbye, nor even a minor care. I just walked off, ignored and forgotten, much like when I had been sent here in “punishment.” Maybe this was what I deserved: to lead Drovani’s army to victory so his monstrous people could rule over some other just-as-horrible folk.

I searched for patterns in the wailing mists, for a face, for something to guide me, but I saw nothing, just a whirlpool of colors in the distance. I had no bearings, no lighthouse to lead me home. Hell, there was no home to go to, and I had no ship to steer. The winds were pushing me along endlessly, but to no end, with no purpose. Time meant nothing here, with no sun to mark its passing. I tried sleeping, but my mind was restless, my body hotter than ever. Whenever my mind drifted away, it would seek her out, that rose that had ensnared me, made my soul whole, and mended my broken spirit. She was distant even in my heart, taken from me even in my dreams; ever farther than I could reach. Her face was a ghostly memory of its beauty, undefined and easy to forget. Such a rare beauty, such a kind soul, such a hard blow she had caused me. A wound that would never heal, that would always bleed in longing for her. She faded, despite all my efforts, becoming one with the nothingness of the far void, slipping from my memory, spiraling downward to nothingness, darker than a starless night.

“Madelyne,” I whispered, but it was like for the first time, a harsh rasp on my throat as if I had never spoken before.

Something moved in the dark within my room, dancing through the shadows like a dream, and I blinked, wondering if I was awake or asleep, but it was the same whether my eyelids were open or closed. The whirling of the mists was now meandering through the room, trailing a figure in a tall robe, a wonderful creature that only had one name.

“Madelyne.”

She responded to my voice by coming to the edge of my bed, letting her robe fall back to the wisps that trailed her. Her face glowed amid the dark, and her touch as she ambled up the bed toward me was like the coming of the sun. She eased up my body, as she moved into the bed, her face coming to rest in my hands and her body hard against mine, but her face was too bright for me to see, consumed by forces that I had no control over, taken away from me with a violence that stood in contrast to her gentle touch. The memory of her face lingered, if only for a moment, long enough for her to speak to me, for her to say one word....

“Wake.”

I was in the bed, naked, spread eagle, and coated in sweat. Around me were a dozen figures, the only one of which I recognized was Drovani, standing at the edge, just where Apogee had come and vanished to.

“Wake, Seshine,” he said.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and felt them come to focus as a royal retinue entered my room. These soldiers were armed with heavy weapons and laden down with feathered ceremonial armor that made Hroneth and Elgar’s stuff look like a child’s toys. Neither my guards nor my serving girls were anywhere in sight.

“You are beckoned to council, my friend,” Drovani continued. “I did not expect to summon you, or I would have given you fair warning.”

I rolled out of bed and threw on the toga, still foggy, still haunted by the image of Apogee, so close and real.

“What’s it about?”

Drovani shifted on the balls of his feet, fidgeting with his swords as I dressed, looking like he didn’t want to respond to me.

I paused and stared at him, but he just shrugged.

“Who do I have to fight?”

He smiled, “Not every fight is with your fists, or with a sword. Come.”

We walked out of the room, trailed by the cadre of warriors who, through the shadows of the hallways, looked more like a bunch of peacocks than a fearsome band of killers.

“Tell me,” I said.

“It is a war council,” he said. “As Seshine, you are not required to come, but I proposed you as First Paladin, and....”

“What?” I asked, ducking under some lamps along a long hallway.

Drovani struggled for a moment for the right words.

“Some of the warlords are not convinced that you have the proper skill to lead our army.”

“I thought you were the leader,” I said.

He nodded. “Yes, but as First Paladin, you will command the front line. You will pursue the will of the High Champion who commands the army as a whole.”

“I’m like a sergeant,” I said, trying to simplify.

Drovani thought upon that for a moment, then shook his head.

“No, you are the point man in the wedge, you are the first to strike. All the men will look to you for courage, which is why I thought of you for the post. I gave you this great honor to the detriment of old friends who desired it, who deserved it after many years of battle and service to my flag. But none of them have your heart, my friend. None have the experience of slaying the Mist Army. Besides, I have seen you in battle. I could think of no one better for the bloodshed and madness of the front line.”

I chuckled, wondering if that was a complement or an insult.

“The warlords have not seen you and they complicate things with politics, and with currying to the goddess for her favor in the case that we win.”

“So what? I snap one of these warlord’s heads off and then they’ll fall in line?”

Drovani laughed, and soon his men joined him.

“That is why I have chosen you,” he said. “But no, we must be cautious with these men. They are important to the cause. Each of these warlords leads a ship like this, with many thousands of warriors. Warriors we will need for victory. We must convince them to join the cause of the goddess, without ‘snapping heads off’. Do you understand?”

I nodded as we walked into a small, low-lit chamber. About a dozen heavily armored Vershani sat in a semi-circle around the goddess, each man with two retainers sitting behind them. My attention was instantly drawn to her, and her eyes were on me like those of a hawk as it struck its prey. The men stood as we arrived, and I noticed no one but Drovani had weapons in the council. Drovani’s men left us as we entered, so we walked alone to the center of the room, standing before the goddess.

Drovani bowed, motioning for me to follow, and I took a knee, but my eyes were never off the woman whose alluring face had drawn me from the pirate ship and into this madness.

She stood, her tall frame draped with elaborate ceremonial robes that concealed her figure. Her long, black hair was crested back by a brass, gemmed circlet, but otherwise she had no jewelry. She needed nothing else to adorn her natural beauty.

“Aryani,” I mouthed, remembering her name, and she smiled, somehow reading my lips.

She spoke and Drovani stood. I was about to stand, but he shook his head as she continued speaking to the assembled group. Finally, he responded and turned to me.

“I will now cast a spell to allow you to understand our tongue,” he said. “Do not be afraid,” he added before bringing his hands together near his torso, almost touching his belly, and chanting in a strange whispery language, different to the normal Vershani I was becoming accustomed to. He spread his hands, lifting them up over his head and looking up, as if for some other god to grant him the power. An anima of purplish light, tinged in white and pink surrounded him. Drovani spun it above him and over to me, so a vortex of raw energy swirled above my head. Finally, he brought it down, impaling me with the magic. It felt like a thousand needles burning through my skin, boring deep into my body, and I clenched my teeth not to scream, closing my eyes as he channeled the energy to its crescendo.

When he was done, I opened my eyes, half expecting to be teleported just outside the ship, to begin my eternal fall through the mists. How else to get rid of me, no? But instead, I was still in the same room.

“Now we can finally speak, my love,” the goddess said, in a voice so rich and splendorous that I fully forgot that the floor even existed.

I nodded, swallowing hard, wondering if the rush of emotion was due to her, or to some lingering effect of the spell.

“Stand, my friend,” Drovani said, reaching out with his hand. I took it and stood, blinking a few times to steady myself.

“Thank you, my lord Drovani,” she said, and he bowed, returning to an empty seat in the front row, denoting him as important as any of the warlords.

I looked at her, trying to fight off the effects of her voice.

“Go on, Lord Thel,” she motioned to one of the men in the front. “You were saying.”

The fellow called Thel stood, bowing to Aryani, then walked over to me. His armor was burnished gold, as if blackened by fire, though simpler than most here. His face was worn and crossed with lines and scars, with darker skin that most of his companions and a wild crest of white hair. He circled me, rubbing his sideburns that were also long and unkempt.

“What experience do you have in battle?” he asked, standing in front of me. I towered over the small Vershani, maybe two heads and a half taller than him, but he stood confidently, as if imposing himself on me, taunting me by being too close.

“On my planet,” I started, staring at him like if he was on a plate, garnished with parsley, “there is a man who is considered to be the strongest and toughest of our kind. His name, aptly so, is Epic. I beat this man within an inch of death.” I was about to brag about how big Epic had been, but I recalled they had little regard for size, in fact seeing it as a weakness.

“Impressive,” he said, smiling, looking past me to Drovani, who rewarded him with a nod.

Thel studied my chest and arms, like a vet checking a horse, then nodded.

“I withdraw my objections,” the warlord said, slapping my arm and returning to his seat. Drovani nodded to me again, and I understood; we had allies here.

“Lord Krut,” she said, and another Vershani stood, this one a dangerous fellow with skin almost as pale as the ship’s walls. His eyes were wide and crazy, and his long black hair was held back in several tails, one atop each ear, and another along the back. His armor was far more decorated than Thel’s, but it had a few marks of repair, and I could see him standing at the front rank of an army.

“So, you beat this one man,” he said, his voice like a low sneer.

I nodded, “I almost killed him.”

“I see,” he said, standing just as close as Thel had, but unlike the older Vershani, I could feel the tension with this one. He wanted to try me. “And against the Mist Army,” Krut continued, “how did you defeat them?”

“Deception,” I said, not sure I wanted to get into the whole sordid plan. I hadn’t done it alone, that much was for certain, but I wasn’t sure if mentioning the behemoth would win me or lose me points. In the end, I figure to tell the truth. Lying always got me into more trouble.

Krut chuckled.

“So you are clever in battle, no?”

I nodded, “We were badly outnumbered. To fight them straight up would have been stupid.”

“Straight up?” he wondered, not understanding the term. I guess it didn’t translate right.

“Face to face,” I clarified. “Man on man. My companions and I were just five, and the Mists were many thousands. So we used a machine of destruction and I commandeered it to pummel their army.”

The council was awash in talk for a moment and Krut turned back, as if gauging the room.

“And when you and your companions left the field,” he continued, “you were victorious, and the Mists were defeated, no?”

I looked over at Drovani, who dared a tiny smile and shook his head so I wouldn’t look at him anymore. I now understood his strategy with the Council of Warlords; he had Thel and Krut question me, challenge me, as they were his allies, and by having them lead the inquisition, he would quell the factions that were more strongly against me.

I tried to hide the smile. “Yes. They were beaten.”

Krut studied me, just as Thel had, but the conclusion was the same. “I, too, withdraw all objections.”

He returned to his seat.

“Any others wish to voice their objections?” Aryani said, with more than a little venom dripping in her question.

None of the warlords spoke, instead waiting their turns to recant, one-by-one, their prior objections, until a tall Vershani entered the rear of the chamber.

“Forgive my tardiness,” the newcomer said, coming forward and bowing to Aryani. “We were too close to Dethema when the call came and the winds were not favorable on our return voyage.”

He was taller than any Vershani in the room, than any I had seen, and handsome, muscled, with skin so dark it was almost onyx and a shock of long, white hair that hung freely almost to his waist. His armor was simple, just a chest piece of ornate chain mail cut to reveal his powerful arms and a protective codpiece and skirt that left his legs unencumbered. He wore no extravagant adornments save for long a vermillion cape fringed with golden tassels and an amulet on his chest much like mine, only far more intricate and decorated.

Once Aryani acknowledged him, he rose from his low bow and saluted a few of the warlords, shaking hands with an older fellow who stood near the front.

“Am I too late?” he asked, a broad smile on his face, drawing laughter from everyone save Drovani, who looked as though the Mist Army had reformed and was about to board us. He pursed his lips and stared straight at me.

“We are never too late to listen to you, great Kendralis Daikhan,” one of the warlords said, revealing the newcomer’s name.

“Ah, then we are fortunate.” He walked forward and bowed, once more ignoring me entirely, despite the fact that I was standing but a few feet from him. “My lady,” he continued. “I will sit and wait for your acknowledgement. Again, please accept my sincerest apologies for my tardiness.”

“You are our guest, Kendralis Daikhan,” she said. “In fact, if you have come to speak, now would be most appropriate.”

He rose, nodding as he played with one of the tassels on his cape.

“I thank you, my goddess, and object to this abomination being allowed among our number,” Kendralis said matter-of-factly, waving his hand dismissively in my direction his only gesture to even acknowledge me. “I object to the questionable practices of Lord Drovani, resorting to deception and piracy to return you to us, and I more importantly object to a philosophy of cowardice that is so dangerous, my brothers, that I fear it might doom us to defeat before we have even begun in earnest.”

About half the room hissed and sneered, while the rest sat quiet, and here was where the negotiations were about to start.

“I will deal with all three issues in order. First, this creature,” he said, still not bothering to look at me. “We are asking our army to follow a (here the translation spell failed, so I heard the actual word) CREHTESH, something that has never occurred in the fifty thousand year history of our people. Since the Elders arrived on the land of Gomas. Edelfel and Hassic, Thomar and Loudas. Names of great heroes of ages past, and we spit on their legacy, urinate on their graves, and forsake their everlasting spirits in the world that is to come, and for what? To satisfy the seditious ways of a contemptuous little man, and his cadre of revolutionaries!”

More of the room joined in shouting him down, some going so far as to stand and make challenges, but Kendralis Daikhan paid them no attention.

“Look at it,” he continued, turning finally and looking at me. He was unfazed by my murderous glare. “It is a monstrosity. We should throw it into the leather harness of a (another word that failed) kovalz and watch it fight filenzek beasts and thorimn cats at the Circus of Aderna. Cheer as they rip the flesh from its bones. But no, Drovani and his ilk would have us go to war with this creature at our vanguard, to stand ten paces before the great flag of our clan. To represent the spirit of the great goddess,” he paused, bowing at Aryani dramatically.

I did nothing, watching Drovani closely. He didn’t know what to do either, so I waited for his cue while my patience remained. Patience that was being consumed like oxygen in a fire.

“It smells like a Czentoc,” Kendralis continued, drawing some laughter. “It is hairy like a Threnoc. Yes, let’s make it the First Paladin. Go, Czentoc, lead our armies,” he said, shoving me along with a brusque push. “Go and defeat the combined clans! Oh, wait,” he said, suddenly serious. “I understand the plan now. How brilliant, Drovani. You wish to kill them with laughter. I almost thought you a fool, but no, it is a brilliant plan.”

Drovani looked like he might charge the newcomer, but without his weapons, he was at a great disadvantage against the much larger man. Then I got an idea.

“Keshek,” I said, but Kendralis didn’t hear me, continuing his tirade.

“No, my brothers. This abomination will not lead us, nor will Drovani claim the post of High Champion. Instead we will hurl them into the abyss and this whole matter will go with them, flailing endlessly. We will not–”

“KESHEK!” I yelled, and finally he stopped and turned to face me, his mouth widening in shock. The room was deathly silent, and when I flashed a look over at Drovani, I saw, for the first time, a smile start to cross his face.

“You are a Keshek, a clumsy, stupid Keshek.”

He was bewildered that I even understood his language, and to hear me speak, to hear me insulting him, took a moment to process.

“If your coward of a father were here, in this room, I would break his head with the Eethush he should have used to kill you when you were a child.”

Kendralis Daikhan’s eyes widened, his teeth clenched, and his breathing became heavy.

“How-–how dare you?” he managed, reaching for a weapon he didn’t have.

“The only abomination here is you,” I said, and I punched him so hard my fist embedded in his chest. I reached back, grabbing him with my free hand to press through his body and get a hold of something hard, probably an organ near his heart. Kendralis clawed at my chest and arms, but his death took only moments, and his blood soon covered most of my chest and legs. I kept a good grip of his chest, holding him even though my arm fell to my side casually.

“Any other objections!” I said, roaring at the warlords, expecting half of them to charge, but instead no one did. Drovani was aghast, his mouth wide open in shock.

I lifted up Kendralis, his body now lifeless, and with my free arm grabbed one of his dangling hands.

“I don’t object,” I said, using a girly voice to mimic Kendralis, then threw him across the room, spattering the warlords he flew over with blood. The body slammed into a back wall with a wet squelch and slid down to the floor, leaving a large gory splotch in its wake.

Kendralis’ blood stained my face and chest. Clenching my teeth, I looked around the room once more, making sure they knew who the real power was here.

“Then without objections,” I said, almost in a growl, “I think this meeting is over.”

I felt the goddess come up behind me.

“The matter is settled,” she said. “Let us speak of this no more. We shall meet again for the war council. Now return to your ships, gather your men, and prepare for war.”

The warlords stood, Kendralis’ allies bowing and leaving the room, their faces awash in revulsion. Most of the other assembled Vershani came forward and bowed to the goddess, then to me and to Drovani, who now stood beside me. After a short while, only a few warlords remained, with Aryani, Drovani, and me, and a few Vershani soldiers who came to dispose of Kendralis Daikhan’s body.

Lords Thel and Krut were there, as was another fellow, dark and mysterious, with similar coloration and hair to Drovani. In fact, he looked almost like a twin brother save for a few select scars and longer, more elaborate hair.

“That did not go as I had hoped,” Lord Thel said, shaking his head.

“It was what was necessary,” Drovani said, and I appreciated hearing him support me.

“We needed Kendralis,” Thel continued. “His forces are the finest in Hedaris.”

“And he was prepared to use them against us,” Krut said. “He would have betrayed us at the first chance.”

“Kendralis’s men are now the worry,” said Drovani’s look-alike.

“This is my cousin, Varhoven,” Drovani said.

“Let me go to his ship,” I said. “I’ll convince them.”

They all looked at me like I was a fool, until Drovani laughed, “By the goddess, that might just work.”

Mention of Aryani made me turn to her, and I caught her staring at me. As Drovani and his men continued their discussion, I peeled away, stepping up the dais toward her.

“You cannot,” she whispered, checking me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly embarrassed not just for my appearance, but for what I had done. I had no idea what the consequences of my actions would be.

She shook her head, concealing a small smile.

“He was insubordinate, Lord Blackjack,” she said, stepping closer. “He questioned my judgment and you defended my honor.”

I swallowed hard, again overcome by her beauty, stumbling through every word.

“I–I ... just....”

“You defended my honor,” she repeated.

Drovani came over. “He was allowed to question, but he overstepped. He was attempting to wrest control of our fleets by discrediting you, but his mockery disrepected the goddess. Again, I owe you thanks. Had he won, we would’ve been thrown overboard and the goddess’ power diminished.”

“Instead, you have made me strong,” she said, but I could barely discern the words, assaulted by an irradiation of wonder that made it hard to breathe; I thought my heart would pound out of my chest, and that everyone could hear its thunderous beating. “Another reason I have to thank you.”

I lowered my head, unable to speak.

“Drovani,” she said. “Gather Kendralis Daikhan’s amulet.”

The Vershani looked shocked, perhaps for the same reasons I was, “No, my lady. It is not proper,” he said, but a stern look from her made him bow and run outside.

“Give me that,” she said, pointing at the amulet I wore.

“Sure,” I said, taking it off and wiping some of the blood on a clean spot of my toga. I handed it to her and she threw it to the ground, shattering the item into a thousand fragments.

“You are Seshine no more,” she said, and all the warlords moved closer, wanting to see.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Krut said. “Is that wise?”

She nodded.

“As the Goddess of the Eastern Slopes, Watcher of the Northern Wood, and Defender of the Spirit of Vershanos, I am tasked to find peace amongst my people. To bring this peace to our people by uniting tribes by marriage, and to bear a child that will lead the Vershani armies in the millennia to come. This has been so for all our history, for thousands of generations past.”

She looked at the Warlords, who nodded and lowered their faces as Drovani returned and handed her the amulet that Kendralis Daikhan had worn, an amulet so similar to mine.

“This time I choose to break with tradition. Just as we have chosen a non-Vershani to lead the army that will reclaim our world, so shall I choose a man to marry for a different reason altogether.”

Aryani motioned me to lower myself, and I knelt before her. She raised the amulet and slung it over my chest.

“You are known as Blackjack no more,” she said, then bade me stand.

I obeyed and she adjusted the amulet. I could feel our proximity, waves of energy colliding in the bare foot of space separating us. Her eyes were upon mine, and had the warlords not been present, I would have taken her right there. Her mere presence was like an aroma that threatened to overcome my senses.

“I choose you as my husband, and henceforth, you shall be known as Blackjack Daikhan.”

And she kissed me.