After donning the green cloaks of the Nazeer warriors, Bonn and Leiffen rode their horses down the mining path toward the back gate of Nazeera. As luck would have it, most of the stone cottages they passed were shuttered, their steps freshly swept, and their front doors bolted. No doubt the citizens living outside the city wall had already made their way to the palace for the impending royal wedding.
Knowing time was running out, Bonn Skaard brought the silver stallion to a gallop, trying to keep his weapons hidden beneath the flapping green Nazeer robe. Leiffen rode beside him, wondering how soon he and Bonn’s great height in comparison to the squat Nazeers would give away their ruse. He kept one silver orb tucked in the palm of his hand just in case they were accosted again.
As they approached the back gate, they saw several Nazeer guards on high alert with sharp pikes gripped in their hands.
"Looks like old Nargos isn't taking any chances," Leiffen muttered.
"I don't think we'll get past them," Bonn said.
"I think you're right, my friend."
Bonn cocked his head to the right at a fork in the road, and they took off in a cloud of red dust before the guards noticed their approach. Night had fallen on Nazeera. The two moons filtered violet light through the sky’s fixed smoky haze.
They trotted for a half-mile down the rutted road, then Bonn brought his horse to a stop. Leiffen did the same.
"Wait here for a moment," Bonn said to Leiffen. He dismounted Stellarion and stepped into a field. Tall prickly grass, dry as thin bones, lashed at his bare legs, opening the small wounds he sustained from the Nazeer guards’ attack.
He reached the citadel wall, a scabrous uneven edifice of rock and red clay bricks reflecting the inhabitants' impatient natures. Considering the Nazeers were notoriously short in stature as well as temper, the wall was not high. By standing on a boulder, Bonn could almost reach the top of it. Here was their way in.
He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled for Leiffen.
* * *
With her torso tightly laced in the green gown and her hair braided in an elaborate Nazeer style, Starlex was led by a group of women from the dimly lit chamber into a large palace hall. Every time they passed an open window, Starlex watched hopefully for Raki. She didn't see the bird again, but she felt relief knowing she was there, and hopefully, Flenn Illyminum was there in spirit, too. There had to be some rescue plan in place. She and her sister were not close, but Hyperia would never allow her to be forced into marriage with a villainous brute.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
A door opened, and calloused hands shoved her forward onto a long walkway leading to an inner palace courtyard lit with glowing torches set in sconces on the circular walls.
The walkway was narrow and without railings. Jynud Nazeer walked behind Starlex, forcing her down a long plank suspended over the heads of rowdy Nazeer citizens gazing up at her as if she were a prized calf being led to the slaughterhouse. From somewhere in the room, drums and flutes played an old Nazeer wedding song as flagons of wine passed through the crowd.
Starlex glanced down at the Nazeers' red, jeering faces. Some of the men made crude gestures while women sneered at her with jealous contempt. Their voices blended into a harsh cacophony of mocking laughter and crude song.
She listed to one side and, for a moment, almost tumbled off the platform into the crowd. Jynud her caught her under the arms and pushed her forward.
Derisive laughter lifted from the crowd.
Straight ahead at the end of the narrow walkway was a raised dais. Duke Nargos Nazeer was there. His ostentatious, ermine-lined robe of green velvet overpowered his squat figure. The gold crown on his head, crammed with studs of emeralds and rubies, was, like everything else in the palace, garish and crudely fashioned. Next to Nargos stood his most recent wife. She was less than half his age and already wan from mothering one baby after another. Next to her stood a cluster of Nargos' offspring from various wives, an unhealthy scurrilous group ranging from a sickly infant to a girl of twenty with stringy auburn hair obscuring her flat, pimply face. Despite their fine dress, the royal family appeared dirty and unkempt.
On the other side of the Nazeer patriarch stood Dizzo, the intended bridegroom. At the sight of the broad, lascivious grin taking up his ruddy face, Starlex's knees weakened. A couple in the crowd below her pantomimed a crude sexual act. Averting her eyes from the uncouth sight, Starlex gazed up at the ceiling, a crudely cut oval opening to the sky.
Her heart quickened with a surge of sudden hope when she spotted Raki making a circle below the moons’ glow.
Could Raki possibly swoop down and catch me in her claws and fly me back home to Oran?
* * *
From the high tower of Oran, Hyperia and Scipio sat on either side of Flenn Illyminum's gilded throne. The windows to Flenn's study were open. Curtains fluttered, and starlight showered the floor. Flenn had been in a trance for over an hour, flying with the great Lila bird, seeing what she saw.
Hyperia darted an impatient glance at her husband and said, "Nazeers always marry at the stroke of midnight, and it's almost midnight now."
Scipio raised his palm to silence her.
Flenn Illymium took in a sudden sharp breath, and his violet eyes popped open.
"Well?" Hyperia asked, tugging on the sleeve of Flenn's robe.
Flenn's eyes blinked rapidly. "Starlex is being led to the bridegroom." With trembling fingers, Flenn poured out a cup of spiced wine and took a sip, clearly exhausted from the trans-omniscient magic.
"Am I the only one who cares what happens to my sister?" Hyperia stood flinging her skirts around her legs. "Where is that damn Bonn Skaard?" She shot her violet eyes, teeming with rage, at Scipio Davadas. "You said he was the best!"
"He is the best. Calm yourself, wife."
"You calm yourself!" Hyperia shouted, her pale skin reddening. "If Bonn Skaard fails at this, I'll have his head. I swear I will!"