Hananisus stitched the last of the wounds on Sarengerel's back. The stitches covered the tattoo that described the battle against the Four Savages.

"Do you remember the fight in the Xaykan territory against the Four Savages?" Hananisus asked, eying the stitches by the lantern light.

"The four warlords that tried to overthrow Lord Xaykan." Sarengerel stroked his beard. "Yes, two fell, one was captured and the other fled. Their leader was Kamiron. He called himself the Hunter, one of the warlords that fell. That was probably ten years ago. Why do you ask about them now?"

"Well I'm glad you remember it because that story has been all but torn from your body, general," Hananisus said as he continued to stitch. "Or do I call you Your Grace now?"

"You have been with me a very long time, Hananisus," Sarengerel said. "We share the same stories upon on our skin, bled in the same battles. Winning the hand of Burulgi's daughter puts me at the head of a new dynasty. One day Burulgi will pass into the Field God's realm and my title-fur will replace his. When that day comes you will have a role in my court that is fitting for a man of your talents. As my royal seamstress.”

Hananisus laughed. “You would not think it outrageous if you saw how well I am doing this." Hananisus clipped the end of the string and applied a balm before placing a cloth patch over the wound.

Sarengerel pulled a simple white tunic over his head and buttoned on a pale blue coat. The coat was embroidered with gold flowers and white cranes.

"My title-fur,” Sarengerel called to one of his men.

The men cheered. One of his men retrieved the dark orange and black tiger pelt from the rack and handed it to Sarengerel with two hands. Sarengerel draped the pelt over his right shoulder with the tiger head across his chest. The Saren clan had never had its own title-fur, and so he had to think long for the right animal to represent his family sigil. He knew his choice for the tiger would raise some eyebrows, as the tiger was not native to the lands of Neredun. The nearest tiger would be in the forests of Kienne, or possibly in the dense Sea of Ruin, home of the barbarians. He inhaled a deep breath and walked outside.

The world was wrapped in night, but with the number of lit torches Sarengerel felt it was as bright as day. He mounted his brown stallion and his men followed, baring the new sigil of a black tiger on an orange banner. Together they rode through the streets of Nathamaket toward Salvasing, the ancestral Neredunian castle. As Burulgi's general he had ridden down this path from the barracks many times, but never dressed for a wedding.

As he approached the expansive compound that was Salvasing, they dismounted and took the long path through the multiple tiers of the castle. Streamers, garlands and flags adorned the castle as he approached the steps toward King Burulgi. He held his side where he had stitches and hoped the stitches did not come loose and bleed through his coat.

At the foot of the steps to Burulgi's platform a large crowd had gathered. Some he recognized as contestants in the trials, though they too were now dressed for a wedding. He walked up the long yellow rug that led up through the steps to the king's dais. The crowd was quiet. Burulgi was seated on his title-fur, a massive black bear pelt. There were nineteen beaded points on the king's title-fur, each point denoting a generation the Burul clan had been in rule. Sarengerel rubbed the tiger pelt draped over his shoulder without any beads. The Sheath, the king's concubine, sat at the end of the platform, refusing to look at Sarengerel. He kneeled before the king.

Stolen story; please report.

"There is no sweet to this bitter day," the king said to the crowd. "For over six hundred years the our clan has ruled over these lands, since Burulderil brought order from chaos and defended our peoples from foreigners. I accept the law of our people, for that is how I became king. My uncle had no male or female heir by his fiftieth birthday, and by law we held a tourney where I defeated my brothers among a hundred challengers.

“It is now my fiftieth birthday, and since I do have a female heir by law I was to hold a tourney where the strongest of our peoples could claim my daughter's hand. And so upon my death, the Burul Blood-Tree will come to an end. There were many clans that participated that sent mighty and noble warriors, including Burul, Penin, Iha and Feren clans. All of whom have deep rooted blood-trees. Yet by the Field God I was not granted a victor from such honorable Trees. Instead, Serengerel, my nephew, I get you.

"My fiercest general, with war emblems written all over your body. No one will question your courage. A Song Lord among our people, teacher of children of our lore. Yet I cannot ignore that you are a child of an exiled mother, son to a nameless father. Out of charity of my heart I granted you return to these lands, and you have proven your worth to me and to the Field God. And so then you entered the tourney, against my wishes, and now you take my dynasty from me. The Field God, the Cloud God and the Foam God must all have taken favor with you to grant you this. Woe is the day where our ancestors permit a Rootless to sit among kings. Perenenda, come to the warrior who has claimed you."

The princess rose from her seat. She was dressed in a flowing dark blue and white dress with yellow and white flowers embroidered. On her head she wore a crown of gardenias. She stood before Sarengerel. Sarengerel took her hand and rose to stand beside her.

The king pulled a green ribbon from his hair and wrapped it around the wrists of Sarengerel and the princess. "I give my daughter to the gods, and the gods now give her to you. The Three Gods shall claim you both as one, and as a single unit you will serve them. You are now prince of this kingdom, Sarengerel, first of clan Saren. One day upon my death, though I hope it may it be as far away as the Field God's reaches possible, you shall watch over these lands as king and as the new Sword of the Sunrise. You may now place your title-fur upon my court."

Sarengerel smiled at his new wife. He held her hand as he laid his tiger pelt upon the ground. "My king, you have trusted me with your armies. Trust me with your daughter. Though it is true, I do not know my father, my mother was still Namsuren of the Burul clan, exiled or no. King's blood runs in me, as it will run in your grandchildren."

Sarengerel turned with his bride to the crowd and raised his arms. The crowd applauded where they could, with others confused about whether to support a bastard to the seat of the king. Sarengerel led Perenenda down the stairs and away from the courtyard. Servants tossed flowers before their feet. They walked down a paved path, still hand in hand, and into the pavilion by the flower gardens, greeting all whom they walked by.

They rounded a corner to a large sycamore tree where they were away from sight. Perenenda threw herself into his arms and buried her lips into his.

"Even in my dreams I was afraid to dream this," she gasped. "You've won me, my love. I was so afraid when the beasts fell upon you and ripped your back. I feared that would have been your end."

"I have lived and trained my entire life for only this moment," he said, holding her close. "My heart is a greater beast than any that roam this world. I would rip the back of the earth to find my way to you."

"I must admit my own heart was torn," she said. “When they all collapsed upon you, I feared someone else would stand before my father for the marriage vows. I should never have doubted, for here you are, first of the Saren clan. We shall have so many children, so the Saren clan will endure forever. Now you are prince of Neredun, must we only have one night before you go?"

Sarengerel touched his forehead against hers. "My love of loves, there is nothing I can do. It has been long commanded. Now that I have the princely title-fur, I must make my way to Kienne."

"My father will hate you."

"It is not your father's love that keeps me breathing."

Perenenda touched his face and kissed him again. "Come with me to my chambers, and we will speak no more of my father, nor about tomorrow. I want to spend every waking moment with you before you leave."