Nelay nodded to Rycus’s friends. “I’m very glad to see all of you.” She paused, trying not make herself a fool in front of all these people. “Rycus, I will speak with you in private.”
She turned on her heel, her Immortals parting so she could pass. With Rycus following, she entered the first vacant room she came to, the library, and shut the door in Jezzel’s face. Then Nelay turned and threw herself into Rycus’s arms, breathing in the baked-glass smell of the desert and something that was manly and him.
“Nelay,” he whispered, squeezing her harder.
And then she was sobbing. He was here. He was hers. After all the hopelessness and defeat and heartache. He pulled back and took her face in his hands, then kissed the tears from her cheeks.
“Did I ever tell you the story of how flowers came to smell so sweet?”
She laughed, dizzy with happiness. “Does it have something to do with a great Tribesman?”
Rycus grinned. “Don’t all the best stories?”
She tipped forward, fisting his robes in her hands and holding them against her face, breathing deep. “Yes. I think they do.”
He drew her back into his arms. “It involves a woman who loved a man, only she he was taken captive in battle.”
Nelay shook her head. “I don’t think I want to hear this story.” Instead, she went up on her toes and kissed his mouth, pulling him to her with a desperation that exploded inside her like a pot of hot sand. His lips met hers, and her mouth yielded to him. She was melting, every hard edge she’d honed over the years going soft. He sucked gently on her bottom lip.
She felt her mouth curve into a smile. Someone knocked on the door behind them. Nelay broke the kiss, and Rycus cradled her head against his shoulder. “Just a moment,” she called. “We are discussing our union.”
“Is that what this is called?” Rycus chuckled, deep and low. The sound brought a tug in Nelay’s lower belly.
She sighed. “It’s what we’re supposed to be doing.” She stepped back, knowing she couldn’t touch him like this and think straight. “You’re Zatal’s cousin?”
Rycus nodded. “Yes.”
That was why Zatal had reacted so badly when he’d seen Rycus’s face—the king had felt betrayed by his own family. Now Nelay understood what Zatal had meant when he’d said it might all work out. He’d hoped Bathzar would allow the contract to pass to Rycus.
“And you will be chieftain of the desert tribes?” she queried.
“My grandmother chose me years ago.”
Another reason Zatal let Rycus live, because he was family and a prince in his own way. Nelay shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Rycus looked sheepish. “I couldn’t, not until I knew you weren’t going back to Thanjavar. It wouldn’t be safe for me in Idara otherwise. I was going to tell you that night, but—”
“But Zatal came and nearly killed you,” she said. “Because you’re his family.” Rycus nodded. Nelay cast her eyes heavenward. “We’re not going to do this thing where you make me drag everything out of you. Tell me what’s going on, smuggler.”
He leaned against one wall, his arms folded across his middle and one leg cocked. “Oh, we’re not, are we?”
“Rycus,” she said in a warning voice, but there was an undercurrent of laughter. She was eager to disperse the heaviness that seemed to be growing between them.
He tipped his head to the side and waited with mirth in his gaze. Rycus and his stories. She blew out hard. “How are you related to Zatal?”
“Remember the story I told you? Of King Kutik and Queen Marif?” Nelay nodded. “Marif was my aunt, the oldest daughter. My mother is the youngest.”
Nelay bit her lip. “So you helping me escape Thanjavar, and what came after . . . was that some kind of family rivalry between you and Zatal?” Because if it was, she swore right then that she would throw Rycus to the Clansmen herself, and burn the consequences.
Rycus shot her a dark look. “I’m a smuggler. Being paid to move goods without being caught is what I do. As for the rest, I tried to keep my distance from you. But you are hard to ignore.”
They hadn’t exactly gotten along. Nelay tried to remember when that had changed. It was the stories, she realized. He’d told them for her. “So why didn’t Zatal inform me who you where? Why the secret?”
Rycus dropped his gaze to the floor, his first sign of weakness. “Because I humiliated him. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me outright for it.” He looked at Nelay. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”
She let out a long breath. “Where does this leave me?”
“According to my cousin’s edict, your marriage contract comes to me if we both agree.”
Nelay crossed her arms to keep from fiddling with the jewels on her bodice. “So you accept it?”
“It’s not quite that simple,” Rycus said softly. “The tribes have certain requirements.” She stiffened, but he held up his hand as if asking her to withhold judgment for a moment. “It’s not like Idara. I can’t just command an army of Tribesmen. They have to agree. And there are terms that must be met first.” He tried again to smile. “Looks like you’ll be starting out our marriage in debt to me again.”
She couldn’t exactly command the armies either, not without Nashur. She shook her head. “We’re going to have to go back out there. I can’t agree to anything without the high commander.”
Rycus took a step closer, and then another, until he stood in front of her, close enough to touch. “Before we do, I want you to know that by our customs, you would be my equal—except for the fact that you still owe me eight darics.”
When she didn’t smile, he reached toward her cheek. “Stop,” she chided. “Now is not the time to be cracking jokes.”
He tipped his head to the side. “When someone is sad, that is the best time to make them laugh.”
She studied him. She loved him. He would be a good king. So why did it feel like she was about to betray her people? “Very well.”
His hand came up and cradled her face. “I’m not sorry. About any of it. Are you?”
She looked into his eyes, remembering the way she had fit next to him like she was meant to be there. “Some of it. Kalla, my parents, my brother.” Even Zatal, though she didn’t say it.
Rycus leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. “It’s going to be all right.”
Nelay melted into him. And the weight she had carried for so long seemed lighter because he was there to share it with her.
“Well,” said a voice. “I suppose it’s good to see you two getting along.”
Nelay pushed Rycus back to find Jezzel in the doorway, one eyebrow arched and amusement flashing in her eyes. Nashur stood behind her, his expression dumbfounded.
“Nashur, meet Rycus. He’s the man who smuggled me out of Thanjavar,” Nelay said.
“Hello, Rycus,” Nashur said, recovering quickly. “It’s good to see you again.”
Nelay looked between them. “You two know each other?”
Nashur nodded. “Zatal’s family visited sometimes.”
Rycus held out his hand for her. “Shall we?” Nelay studied his hands, calloused and rough. If she had any say about it, they would be her husband’s hands.
“You have a room full of people waiting for you,” Jezzel reminded them dryly.
Nelay straightened her shoulders and strode back into the throne room, still filled with dignitaries, Immortal commanders, and Tribesmen.
She stood before the throne with Nashur and Jezzel beside her. Rycus headed up the Tribesmen, with Bathzar at his side.
“Queen Nelay,” Rycus said, all the levity gone from his voice. “You have proposed an alliance between our nations, but this alliance affords us little and you much.”
He paused and took a deep breath as if to steel himself. Nervousness bubbled up in Nelay, making her feel numb. “You will give us everything,” he continued.
Nashur straightened up beside her, his nostrils flarin
g. “That is ridiculous! Idara is a nation of wealth and power. The Tribesmen don’t even have a name to call themselves!”
Rycus’s gaze narrowed. “We are Tribesmen. That is enough. But as an act of generosity, you will be allowed to keep the name of Idara.”
Nashur flung his hand out. “Idara has ten times the citizens of the Tribesmen. Our cities flow with gold and silver. Our harbors are some of the richest in the world. And you think—”
Nelay laid a hand on his arm. “Let him finish.”
Nashur turned furious eyes to her. “You don’t understand! You’ve not seen the wealth of Idara. The power and majesty. To give it—”
“Commander!” she said sharply. He cut off abruptly, his mouth pressed in a hard line. Nelay took a deep breath to calm herself. Nashur was the Immortals and the armies. In all reality, he was more powerful than she. “Please, just let them finish.”
Nashur held his hands behind his back and stared at the ground for several seconds before looking up. “Continue.”
“Idara will be grafted into the Tribesmen,” Rycus went on. “Not the other way around. Your lords and ladies will be replaced with Tribesmen of our choosing. Your laws will be rewritten, your coffers drained. In short, Idara will become an extension of us.”
Nelay’s jaw hardened. How could he do this to her? To Idara? “How would you be any different from the Clansmen?”
Rycus leveled her with a gaze. “Your people will be free.”
Silence pierced the room, punctuated only by the muffled sounds of battle.
“You didn’t think we would agree to help you for nothing,” Bathzar said.
“No,” Nelay replied, working to keep her voice from shaking. “But I did not think to lose everything.”
“All great stories begin thus,” Rycus said softly.
Nelay shot him a glare. He stepped closer, close enough to reach out and touch her. So softly only she and those near her could hear, he said, “It took everything I had, and everything Idara has, to get them to agree to come this far.”
“I don’t want to lose Idara,” she finally said.
“You already have,” Rycus said quietly. “This way, at least you will keep as much of your country as possible.”
Nelay studied him, wishing for a time when things had been simpler, when it had just been the two of them and their allies had been clear, and their enemies even clearer.
She motioned for him to step back and then turned to Nashur. He took her shoulder and led her back into the library. Jezzel managed to slip inside just before he slammed the door behind him.
He immediately began pacing. “That man is either very stupid or far too clever.”
Nelay held her hands out helplessly at her sides. “Nashur, what choice do we have?”
“Bowing down to those desert scum like they’re our betters, when they should be bowing to us. Taking our gold and fighting—”
“They’re not mercenaries,” she interrupted.
He rounded on her. “And don’t you take their side! Just because you were stupid enough to—”
“Don’t,” she warned.
Nashur ground his teeth. And Nelay went silent, watching as he paced. She went over the field and every player in it a half dozen times. And even with the Tribesmen, she came out behind more than ahead. But Nashur was a smart man. He would come to the same conclusion on his own in his own time. It would do no good to push him.
Suddenly, he ripped a dozen scrolls from the wall and hurled them across the room. Then he stood looking at the carnage as if surprised by the sight of it. Nelay and Jezzel exchanged glances and then went back to waiting. Finally Nashur’s shoulders slumped and he muttered, “After this is all over, we’re going to stage a coup.”
It would be a very, very bad idea to argue with him at this point, so Nelay kept silent. Nashur let out a long breath. “But for now, we need them.”
They filed back into the throne room, where Nashur asked Rycus, “And if Idara falls?”
“The Tribesmen will melt back into the desert,” Bathzar replied. “Safe from the Clansmen, as we have always been.”
Nashur dropped his head, his fingers tapping against his leg. “We can’t say no.” Even as he said it, he shook his head.
Bathzar rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Then we shall have a wedding, Tribesman style. You Idarans take too long.”
Nelay didn’t trust the gleam in his eyes. The Tribesmen started forming a circle. “And how do the Tribesmen marry?” she asked. There was too much bitterness for her to taste the sweet relief of being with the man she loved just yet.
“Oh, I’ve heard of this,” Jezzel said. “I’ve always said I should have been born a Tribesman.”
Nelay shot her a look. “You’ve never said that.”
Jezzel shrugged. “Well, I should have.”
Nashur looked like he was considering smacking some sense into her.
Nelay glanced around. “And what exactly is a Tribesman wedding?"
Rycus grinned. “I told you from the beginning I wouldn’t mind dancing blades with you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Nelay scoffed.
Jezzel chuckled lightly. “I need to find my own Tribesman.” Several Tribesmen shot her looks of open invitation and she waggled her eyebrows at them.
Rycus bounced on the balls of his feet and windmilled his arms to loosen up.
All right. He was serious. Nelay blew out and started slipping off her jewels with Jezzel’s help. It took forever, hundreds of eyes watching her the entire time. Finally, Nelay wore only her bodice and loose trousers. Starting to stretch, she asked Rycus, “So am I supposed to let you win?”
He winked at her. “Nope. In fact, you win, I’ll be considered lucky. If I win, you’ll be considered lucky.”
Nashur moved closer to Nelay and said under his breath, “Show these sand fleas what it’s like to be at the receiving end of Idaran anger, eh?”
She stalked into the circle, her mind whirling with Rycus’s strengths and weaknesses.
He gave a lopsided grin. “I won’t pull back.”
She circled him. “What’s the objective?”
His grin widened, showing his slightly uneven teeth. “First one pinned or forced out of the circle.”
Shouldn’t be too hard. The priestesses had trained Nelay how to fight bigger, stronger opponents. She took a deep breath, finding her center. She’d have to drop him fast and not let him get his hands on her.
Rolling to the balls of her feet, she waited. Rycus leaned toward her, his longer arms reaching.
“Begin!” Bathzar called.
Rycus lunged for her. She twisted, stepping to the side and shoving him past her. But she didn’t let go. Nelay landed on his back, knowing she’d have to lock his joints—there was no way she could hold him by sheer force. She tried to wrench his arm up his back. He was already twisting, attempting to lock her arm so he could flip her and pin her.
She tried to trap his arm and roll, forcing his elbow the wrong direction. But he was too fast. He flipped her and pinned her arms to the floor. She wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles
“This is going to be a fun marriage,” he grinned from above her.
Nelay jerked one arm free, pinned one of his hands to the floor, dropped her opposite foot, and reared up, pinning his upper arm with her elbow. Then she leveraged Rycus up before dropping him down and wrenching his elbow in the wrong direction.
His face contorted, but he didn’t concede. Fool, stubborn Tribesman. She pulled harder. “All right,” he gasped. “I’m the lucky one.”
Nelay let him go, hopped to her feet, and inspected her silk robes for damage. A little wrinkled but otherwise intact.
The Tribesmen cheered her and loudly booed Rycus, who grinned. “I let you win.”
Nelay laughed. “Want to go again?”
He winked at her. “Later, high priestess.”
And with that, they were married. As Nelay’s anger began to fa
de, an overwhelming gratitude rushed over her. She’d thought her opportunity to be with this man had been snatched from her forever. Rycus stared back at her, the same joy in his gaze.
Jezzel elbowed Nelay and murmured, “If you two are finished making moon-eyes at each other, I’d like to point out that this was much more straightforward than the last wedding.” She helped Nelay back into the veil.
Rycus’s face went blank and he turned away.
“Say something to them,” Nashur grumbled.
Nelay took a deep breath and announced to those present, “This union will provide Idara with the means of conquering the Clansmen!”
The people cheered. Nashur shot Rycus a look that demanded he say something.
“Idara is a great nation,” Rycus declared. “And she already has a great queen. I will stand beside her, and together we will rid the lands of the Clansmen.”
“And then Idara will rid the lands of Tribesmen,” Nashur said under his breath before he stalked off.
“As a dowry,” Rycus went on, “I have brought a thousand Tribesmen to Thanjavar, all of them ready to fight. The rest of our men will harry the enemy throughout Idara.”
The Immortals broke into cheers again, and Rycus leaned toward Nelay. “I’ve asked Scand to be one of your personal guards. He’s too old to be on the front lines with the rest of them, but I trust him with your life.”
“I’m sure Jezzel will be happy to have him,” she said, not really sure at all. She looked around until she found Scand and smiled at him. He nodded to her.
“Well,” Rycus called over the cheers, “let’s go see what to do about winning this war.”
Nelay led the way into the war room, the Tribesmen and Immortal commanders trailing her inside. Nashur waited there for them.
Rycus stood before a huge map of the city. “What have you done so far?”
As if he’d been waiting for this question, Nashur launched into a tactical presentation that impressed even Nelay.
Rycus cast her an approving glance. “I must say, I’m amazed at what you’ve accomplished so far.” He looked back at the map. “But the worst is before us. Thanjavar is in the most danger now.”