Chapter 58

An empire is, by definition, a single kingdom holding multiple kingdoms, lands, and peoples within it. Such an arrangement is a little more the nations we see in the Sixth Strata than the more independent lands I knew in the Fifth. These places that are not held at the sway of kings and emperors, but have united themselves by principle. The only principle of the empire is that while it is strong, its vassals are weak.

Unlike a modern nation, there is no reason for these domains to be united other than the will of a conqueror. Often a conqueror long dead, whose rule has fallen to a series of increasingly unworthy successors. Thus, an empire stays one piece thanks to its army, and as it spirals to decay, its army must take more and more of its resources to maintain the state while its people suffer the deprivations that come with that. Strain the army, and holding vassals becomes impossible.

Zhahllaia understood that better than perhaps any alive. Serving the Shahs of Old Qammuz had allowed her to observe how empires rise, maintain themselves, and ultimately decline. She was prepared for what would happen when my war had exhausted Heacharid resources and their army would have to focus ever more of its attention upon us. This was an integral part of the plan we had hatched so long ago, the next step that had to come to pass if we were ever to achieve victory.

The Heacharid Empire had begun to splinter.

In the histories that would be compiled, the rebellions that began to spring up around the empire would not be considered part of our war. The curse of the historian is that no single work can be both as broad enough to encompass all context and consequence while maintaining a narrow enough focus to be understandable. As legions of Heacharids fell trying to breach the Arkohnum, their grip on their vassal states loosened. As armies marched from their homes to die in the Golden Wastes, the vassals stopped sending taxes and conscripts. The most abused and the most distant among them broke into open rebellion.

As these rebellions flared like lightning striking a field of parched grass, I was pleased. When Qel Rylah broke away, I could wait no longer. But I am getting ahead of myself.

By this time, Allegeth and I had been married for a little more than two decades. We had not yet produced an heir, though we attempted properly a few times during our too-infrequent reunions. We were still bound by our oaths to our kingdoms and thus lived apart. My weariness for the war had only grown deeper. Do not give me your sympathy, or worse your pity. Reserve that for the fallen among the Zuunese, among the Khaltóg, among the bandit clans and the privateer fleets. Or if you must grieve for someone, grieve for my son Arkohnus.

This is not a sad tale. On the contrary, it is a tale of how I welcomed another bride into the Storm's Court. It began in a remote part of southern Aucor, west of the Jaggurzar Tundra, in the small kingdom of Qel Rylah. These were highlands, rugged mountains and dense forests that hid chilly bogs and mist-covered dells. This was once home to a race whose name for themselves has been lost to history. The Heacharids called them ogres, but they bore little resemblance to the brutes I knew from the mountains of Chassudor.

This race had intermarried with the local humans, producing a strange people known as the Theva. They claim that their progenitors carried the blood of the sky itself and I will not gainsay them, as one of my daughters carries the ocean in her veins. Like so many other kingdoms in Aucor, they wore the Heacharid yoke. They were few in numbers but occasionally one of the Theva would appear in the vanguard of a Heacharid attack where we would cut them down without mercy.

They were a distinctive people, standing at least a head taller than I. Their forms were long and lean, between the ethereal litheness of the elf and the utilitarian bulk of the human. Their strength was incredible, at least twice that of a comparably-sized man. Their skins were various shades of teal, their hair ranging from honey to platinum. Their eyes were the color of the sky and flashed with light. They were treated as chattel and curs by the Heacharid, marked as impure by their skin, and so I always regarded their deaths as a tragedy.

When word reached Zuunkhorun that Qel Rylah was in open revolt, my heart leapt. These could be formidable allies. Zhahllaia was by my shoulder as Tagadhur, my Master of Birds gave me the news.

"I remember when the lands of the Theva stretched all the way to the Ezar lowlands," Zhahllaia said.

"Were they subjects of Qammuz?"

"The Shahs would have liked that, but they were untamable. We had to content ourselves with alliances."

"What made them so deadly? Was it merely their strength?"

"They have power beyond the physical," Zhahllaia said. "Their battle-chaplains were terrifying, mustering the strength of their ancestors, and they rode upon the backs of creatures that seemed to spring from another, more primeval time."

"And the Heacharids subjugated them."

"Qammuz never had the endless legions of the Heacharids. We were a light on this continent and would not destroy in order to possess."

"The Heacharids seek only to extinguish." I considered my next words. "How did the Shahs manage alliance with so fierce a people?"

"The only way it has ever been done. Marriage."

"I see. Do you believe this is a possible avenue for us now?"

"You know well how charming I find you. I think it not unreasonable a Theva woman might have the same reaction."

"I have no wish to marry once again. I have children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, all of whom could cement an alliance."

"True," said Zhahllaia, "but I also know what happens when you see a beautiful woman."

"Come now, I have some willpower."

"As you say," said my Wazira, favoring me with her most enigmatic smile.

I rose from my chair and made my way to the map of Aucor. The war had been harder to prosecute now that it was no longer a siege. My Master of Wolves directed us upon our campaigns and in this I ceded my authority to his skill. I learned much about the arts of warfare from him. Each army was marked with a piece on the board, in the shape of the familiar of the wizard attached to them. My feathered serpent sat in the capital. Lysethe's skymander was in the north, where she carved a great swath of destruction. I believe she wanted to free Arcanoir, the land of her birth, but she would never admit to so sentimental a motive.

I picked up the feathered serpent and placed it upon Qel Rylah. "I will leave at first light tomorrow."

I kept my word. I took with me Maireili and a modest bodyguard. My son Kelephas, recently finished with his oaths, rode with me as a fully-fledged knight of the Order of the Black Rose. His armor was a gift from Allegeth, enameled in sky blue. He was a handsome lad, his light still undimmed by the world. He had not yet received his either sobriquet he would later claim, and so he was merely Kelephas.

It was late spring, the chill of winter in rapid retreat. We crossed the Golden Wastes, heading southwest. What had once been Heacharid land was as free as it would ever be. The villages that dotted the great golden sea were perhaps culturally Heacharid, but they were far from the foul heart of the empire.

I rode at the head of our group, on the back of my elvish riding stag. Maireili was on my right, Kelephas on my left, and Quiyahui soared on the wind above us.

"All of this should be Zuunkhorun," said Kelephas. Sunlight gleamed off his armor. I believe Allegeth had a soft spot for the lad thanks in part to the timing of his conception, and the armor reflected that fondness.

"We are not conquerors," Maireili said.

"Mama Maireili, you are a kind and gentle woman," protested the knight. "These are matters of war."

"You think your mother does not understand the language of violence?" I asked.

Kelephas looked to Maireili and I easily read the expression on his handsome countenance. He was remembering how gentle she had been with him his whole life, who she played with him when he was small and held him when he was hurt, and how he had slept on her when he was ill. "I mean no offense, Mama Maireili."

"Don't trouble yourself, love. I do not think of these things the way you do. You are a soldier. I am something else entirely." She did not say the word assassin but I believe she thought it. "We do not kill for the sake of killing."

"This is not killing. This is about expanding the borders of Zuunkhorun."

"Which leads to slaughter," I said. "The people here were nominally ruled by the Heacharids. They will not welcome other masters."

"Jaggurghar already have their eyes fixed upon this place."

"Reaching past the Arkohnum is a mistake," I said. "The Zuunkhor Mountains are the perfect defense, the perfect border. They are why I chose Zuunkhorun to begin with. Moving out past them makes is vulnerable."

"It makes us Heacharid," Maireili said, so softly it was almost inaudible beneath the hoofbeats of her mount.

"Yes," I murmured. I raised my voice. "Perhaps Jaggurghar will take it, perhaps it will become its own kingdom. Perhaps something else. We can make allies of them when that happens."

"They will worship Xomera and that will make them hate us."

"The Heacharids aren't evil because they worship Xomera. She is merely the excuse for their desire to control. Their desire to hurt. I have no desire to stamp out her worship."

"Besides," Maireili said with a sharp-toothed grin, "There are other cults."

My face grew hot.

"What do you mean, Mama Maireili?" asked Kelephas innocently, but mischief danced in his blue-green eyes.

I sighed. "Yes, I have heard of the Cult of the Feathered Serpent."

"A popular new religion, spreading like wildfire," said Maireili with barely concealed amusement. "Nothing builds a faith like victory. I hear it whenever I venture into their cities. They believe Xomera has lost her lofty position and the coatl devours her whole. Better worship the serpent than be its prey."

Quiyahui was a ribbon in the cloud-dusted sky. "That is wisdom," I said.

Qel Rylah was always defined by the highlands that led into Rylaggur Mountains. A kingdom bordered it to the north, Ohl-Azar, an ancient land that had been a vassal for the Heacharids almost from the beginning. The old borders were still marked by a line of castles gazing south as the terrain rose into the craggy Rylah Highlands. When the rebellion started, this border had caught fire as the Theva slipped between the fortresses to cut away at the empire's soft underbelly.

As we passed the first of the fortresses, my gweyir, the elven riding stag, expelled a few nervous breaths. The creature had lived most of his long life in Zuunese stables. He had not my qobad's experience. That poor bird was long in her restful grave. I resolved that on Tanyth's next journey to the Red Wastes I would ask that she acquire a cock and several hens that I might breed my own mounts. A passing thought, that soon had gone from my mind.

The stag though, was intuitive. The castle was half-ruined, stained with smoke. The Theva had sacked it and the castle appeared abandoned. It carried a scent of death that was not literal, but that I felt in a chill along my flesh. As though to confirm, Diotenah's whispers snaked into my mind. Perhaps what remained of her longed for a home such as that.

A few days later, a Heacharid patrol happened upon us. They attacked, I suspect because they did not see Quiyahui hidden in the glare of the sun. We slaughtered them for their trouble. In my pride, I allowed a single survivor to escape. As I watched him gallop madly away on his wounded mare, I smiled to myself, unaware of the trouble he would cause. He would make a nuisance of himself when he found a company of Heacharid rangers, but that was still in the future. The few stormwights I had made of his fellows shambled east, destined for their place in the Deadwall.

We steered our mounts into the highlands. The roads were broken, torn apart and pounded flat by Heacharid legions. Forests had been cut away, leaving headless trunks rotting in the cold spring sun. My adversary could go nowhere without despoiling the very land.

The maps of Qel Rylah were vague. "Shelat, the closest of their cities, will be around here," Zhahllaia had told me, indicating an area on the map that was still nominally lowland.

"We do not know for certain?"

"Theva settlements move."

I nodded, thinking of the nomadic bandits who until recently had migrated across the Golden Sea. At the base of the Rylaggur Mountains, I chose the road that had been the most abused, thinking that if the Heacharids had used it so extensively, it would be because Theva lived at its terminus.

My reasoning was sound and two days into our climb, we found a town. It was located in a strangely flat place between three low peaks. Bent structures I took for art formed arcs at its border, the ends driven into the rock of the mountains about it. I was surprised to find not a single wall. The defenses looked to be confined to short, open-topped towers spaced evenly about the border.

Theva stood sentry up there, a tall, handsome people. Each carried a bow the size of a dwarf and just as stout. I imagined their arrows easily punching holes in Heacharid armor. They watched us as we came up a bend. Then, in one motion, a Theva brought her bow up and let an arrow fly. It thunked into the pass before us, quivering with the impact. I held up a hand and my column stopped. Quiyahui, who had been cavorting in the clouds, flew down to take her place beside us.

I whispered a few words and opened my hands. A blue-white bird, its feathers dancing with lightning, spread its wings and flew to the tower. I waited as it bore my message of greeting.

A moment passed and I felt the spell leave me, the aerilean energies dissipating into the air. The archer at the top nocked another arrow, drew her bow, and then undrew it, returning the arrow to its quiver. I don't know if she knew the source of the traditional Zuunese salute, but she managed a facsimile.

"We may proceed," I said.

"Father," Kelephas said. "Let me go first."

"Nonsense. We come as friends. Had she wanted to put that arrow in my chest, that is where it would be."

We followed the winding road to where it entered the settlement. The demarcation was sudden, from a road mostly dirt and torn apart to perfectly maintained cobbles. Inside, the Theva town bore no scars from the battle. It was a collection of stone buildings in a pastoral setting. I would later learn that it possessed a spiral symmetry that echoed Hegalite aesthetics.

By the time we reached the top, five women waited in the road ahead of us. They were dressed in traditional Theva fashion, long dresses made of skins with heavy furred cloaks over their shoulders. Their jewelry was fashioned of bone, amber, and quills. Though these five were unarmed, they needn't have worried if we had violent desires. Guards on the towers watched, all with their stout bows, but more frightening were the beasts that followed the women.

There were two of the creatures, carrying features of predatory cats and reptiles in equal measure. Their heads were long, their jaws heavy, sporting fangs the size of a man's forearm. Their claws were thick, giving them excellent grip on soil and stone. Quills sprouted from their muzzles and shoulders. I would come to know these as vorghal, fierce creatures that were both mount and hound for the Theva.

The five women were beautiful, looking to be in their late middle age, their blond hair more silver than honey. The eldest of them, who stood in the center, spoke. "Hail. Can your message be true? That you are the Tyrant of Zuunkhorun?"

"My message was true," I said. "I will not begin a friendship with a lie."

"His Majesty seeks to begin a friendship?"

"Indeed I do. I have journeyed hither to seek an audience with your great king, Three Skies."

She cocked her head, her lips quirking with amusement. "His Majesty does not know much of our people."

"Forgive me, I do not."

"We have no kings. Three Skies is the leader of our rebellion, but due to ancient custom, when the rebellion is won, he will hold no place of leadership. But for now, he is who you will speak with for any kind of alliance."

"Where might I find him?"

"He makes his home in Qibahz. We will show you where he might be and send you on your way, but first, allow us to show you hospitality worthy of your station."

***

We ate in the main hall of the tower at the center of the town. The food was rich and flavorful and by the time I was ready to retire, my body buzzed with warmth. They installed us at the top of the tower, which I understood to be a place of honor. We had a cozy chamber with a fire roaring in the hearth, fighting a losing battle against the mountain cold. I undressed, burying myself beneath several furs. With the frigid air snaking through the narrow window, it made me think of the Red Wastes.

Maireili stripped off her tight costume, revealing her lithe form. She crouched by the fire, warming herself. The gold light danced over her gray skin. I found myself mesmerized by her alien beauty. She had eaten well, though our hosts had been somewhat confused when we explained she could only eat spoiled food. They were as familiar with ghouls as I was with the Theva.

I pulled the furs back and rose, shivering in the sudden cold. I went to her side, brushing my fingers over the smooth expanse of her scalp. She turned her head and broke into an amused smile as my manhood hung before her face. She took me gently in hand and pressed an affectionate kiss onto the head. Her sharp-toothed smile widened as she watched me grow hard.

She turned, getting onto her knees. She began to stroke, licking and teasing me, before taking me into her mouth. She moved so quickly, so efficiently, that she had stoked me to arousal before I could even reflect upon her ardor.

I sighed, stroking her head. "Maireili?"

She took me from her mouth, continuing to stroke. "Hush, love. I've been thinking about this for weeks."

"We need more privacy on our journeys."

"Indeed," she said impatiently. "Now be silent and fill my belly."

I am a fool, but not that great of one. She was swift in her attentions and when I filled her, she swallowed greedily. I swept her into my arms and took her to bed where I filled her womb. We lay in the warmth of our love, her head on my arm, my body cuddled against her back. She toyed with my fingers.

"When I fell in love with you, this was not what I imagined," she said. "A kingdom, war, intrigue."

I kissed her shoulder. "As long you are happy, so am I."

"I look forward to a time of peace."

"We are in accord, my love."

***

The Theva of Shelat sent us to the south and west with a bone scroll case bound with charms of bird and moon. They showed us where Qibahz might be found, a concept I still did not understand, but also said that Three Skies would find us long before we would find him.

"In all likelihood, he knows you're coming already," said our host.

The lowlands were covered in green grass and gray lichen. The local aurochs were shaggy beasts with long horns and thick muscles. Great herds of striped deer gave us a wide berth. More than once, wyverns darkened the horizon.

As the journey continued, the air began to feel like glass, the wind like shards. We all drew our furred cloaks about us. I reflected with amusement on how my Kharsoomian flower would have complained had I brought her. Maireili handled the chill without protest, as she was accustomed to the frigid dark of the deep places.

Evidence of the war grew less pervasive as we made our way into the highlands, but the scar tissue traced our approximate path. Bones, broken armor, and weaponry poked from the earth. The bodies and equipment were exclusively Heacharid and I found myself wondering where the Theva dead were.

We began to find other tracks. They were deep and carved with unnatural designs. I could not imagine what made them, for they were too vast, too geometric, for a living creature.

Forests grew thicker. The trees were fat and tall, their needles narrow. They reminded me of the woods near Thunderhead, but the scents were subtly different, the branches wider, the pine needles more apt to fall. The forest floor had none of the ferns I was accustomed to, instead featuring great fat mushrooms and other, more colorful growths.

One foggy day we had dismounted by a chilly river. Our mounts drank deeply while we refilled our skins. Quiyahui was high above the trees, invisible through the thick foliage. This was the day where my mistake with the Heacharid scouting party came due.

I knelt by the water, filling, then drinking. My mind wandered. I missed home. Then a cry went up and something hit me hard in the chest. I fell on my back, staring up in mute incomprehension as arrows filled the air. In horror, I watched half my bodyguard be cut down in that initial volley. My riding stag thudded to the earth next to me, pincushioned with arrows, his sightless eyes wide with terror.

An arrow stuck from my chest. I tried to raise my left arm, but I could not feel it. Warmth bled from the wound like the touch of a distant fire.

I perceived events in quick snaps. Maireili ducked behind a tree, flinging a dagger that found a home in a Heacharid throat. Kelephas, arrows breaking against his armor, hacked a man down. Quiyahui struck through the dense canopy, pulling an enemy into the air to be swallowed. The Heacharids, wearing light armor and brown cloaks, swept into my bodyguard. I recognized one of them, the man I had let escape. He had found friends and returned for vengeance. Such was the story of the world.

I fought to rise, but the arrow in my chest had somehow pinned me to the earth. It sapped my strength, the terrible numbing of the wound spreading on that distant fire. One of my fell incantations would be enough to scatter these curs. I fought to grab the aerilean strands of my magic, but they danced maddeningly out of reach.

The man I had allowed escape charged at me, weapon held high. Recognition flared in his blue eyes, washed in the fanaticism for his faith. He would topple the Dreadstorm and be beloved of his goddess and his people. His broadsword glinted in the sun. He did not know that he was already dead.

Wounded though I was, I would not die in this nameless grove. I pulled the wisps of magic to me and burned my attacker down. He fell into the fallen pine needles and a moment later rose, his body rotted and writhing with lightning. Diotenah's whispers were triumphant in my ears. My merciful mistake had been mended.

He stuck his blade in the back of his closest companion and I felled another one with a spell. The battle was won from there. We slew the Heacharids, though not without cost. Half of my bodyguard had been cut down, the other half nursed wounds. I had propped myself against a tree but my body resisted further efforts to rise. That was when I knew my wound was truly grave.

Maireili, Kelephas, and Quiyahui were abruptly by my side though I did not remember them moving. Peace closed over me and I had difficulty thinking of why that was a bad thing.

"I need some rest, but I will be fine," I lied. No reason to distress them.

"Father, I think the arrow has touched your heart," Kelephas said.

"Beloved, remain still. We will find a healer," Maireili whispered.

"You could ask them," I said, nodding to the silhouettes in the trees beyond.

Their faces fell and I believe it was because they thought that my dying mind had conjured apparitions. But then the survivors among us raised alarm and weapons. My stormwights were still, for I felt no danger.

Maireili and Kelephas rose, my bride's hands empty, my son's going to the hilt of his sword. Quiyahui rose into a coil, the feathers about her neck extending into a hood. "We do not mean harm," Maireili said in Heacharid.

One of the shapes stepped into the dappled sunlight. She was Theva, tall and beautiful, her skin a deep teal. Her golden hair was tied up in braids about her head, revealing her long, graceful neck. Rune tattoos climbed the slope of her jugular to her hairline. She watched us with wide eyes of blue and pink like a sunset sky. She held a massive club on one shoulder, knobbed with steel, as though it weighed nothing. A vorghal stalked forward next to her, a saddle upon its muscular back. A snarl rippled over its lips, baring its terrifying saber teeth.

"Hold," I commanded my men, putting as much authority as I could manage into my wounded voice. "The Theva are not our enemies."

My men murmured, but obeyed.

"You know the Theva," said the woman in Heacharid. "You are the one from Shelat, the Tyrant."

"I am." I wheezed, every breath more of an effort to draw.

She flipped the club from her shoulder and my men tensed. She secured her weapon to the vorghal's saddle and came to me, kneeling at my side. She smelled strongly of mountain wind and cold spring days. My heart quickened, but each beat was a stab of pain.

"You are grievously wounded." Her accent was thick, reminding me of stones washed in winter wind.

"A lucky shot."

"That is all it takes." She touched my flesh about the wound and shuddered. "You will die."

"He will not," Maireili said firmly.

"No, he will not," agreed the woman. "Be still, Tyrant."

This last I heard, but her lips did not move. She put one hand about the base of the wound, and the pressure burned, tearing a groan from me. The other hand wrapped about the shaft of the arrow. She said something in her language and a great warmth, like sunlight on a chilly day, bloomed over the wound.

The world fell away, leaving nothing but her. She was a great, shining sun in the sky, a being of impossible warmth and limitless compassion. I felt safer than I ever had, as though nothing could harm me. For once, I was not the author of this security. I had no fears, no worries, nothing that could trouble me. I was, for perhaps the first time in my life, truly free.

She pulled. I was suddenly once again in the woods by the stream. The arrow had put down roots inside me. As she drew the arrow from my body, it pulled at all parts, feeling as though pieces were tearing away like old silk. I did not cry out, for it did not truly hurt. Absurdly, I thought of the lullabies I used to sing to soothe my daughter Malycent.

The Theva was steady, hauling the weapon from my body with the inexorability of shifting stone. Pain was bright in an instant, but just as quickly it faded into an ache. I saw the wound in my mind as a pond. As the arrow left me, the flesh closed around it, leaving the water to rush into the gaps. Then it was free of me, dripping with my own gore. I stared at it, certain I now watched my heart's blood drip in sluggish drops from the sharp point.

"Tyrant?" she asked. I resisted the foolish urge to embrace her, to pillow my head in the crook of her neck.

Experimentally, I tried to move the arm that had been still. It was heavy, but I could lift it. A faint ache gripped my chest, but no further ill feeling troubled me. I had experienced similar attentions, from Velena, from the healers of Axichis, and most recently from the battle-exorcists of Zuunkhorun, but nothing compared to the Theva's skill. That single arrow could have ended me, and I believe in any other place or time would have.

She turned the arrow in her hand, then snapped it easily between her fingers, casting both halves into the stream. I watched them tumble through the clear waters, strands of pink reaching like threads.

"You seek my father," she said, turning back to me.

"Three Skies is your father," I managed. Her beauty was mesmerizing, but it was the feeling she sparked in me that truly held me. "Then you are a princess of the Theva."

"We have no such titles, though the Heacharids tried to force them upon us. What do you wish from my father?"

"Alliance. We have a common enemy in the Heacharids and we are stronger together than apart. I have a scroll case that..."

"Such tokens are unnecessary," she said.

"Why did the others give it to me?"

"For your peace of mind. The Heacharids find our ways disturbing. The lowlanders will still use the traditions the Heacharids forced upon us, but we do not."

"I see. What may I call you?"

"I am Ten Ghosts," she said, the pride she felt at her name unmistakable.

I struggled to rise. "Come, we should not linger here. I don't know how many rangers that bastard sent."

"Lay your soldiers to rest," she said. "We will move when that is finished. And the abominations..."

"They will be sent away," I assured her. I would have promised nearly anything, but that was a simple enough favor to grant.

I set the stormwights about digging graves. The other Theva moved among the Heacharid corpses, stripping them of weapons and provisions, then setting their bodies in sunlight where they were swiftly encrusted in crows. When the wights were finished, I sent them marching back to the Deadwall. The Theva visibly relaxed when the last of the stormwights was lost amongst the trees.

I mounted one of my fallen bodyguards' horses and the diminished group followed the Theva war party higher into the mountains. The Theva were an impressive sight, each one armed with a heavy bow and either a stout club or thick spear, all of them mounted upon a slavering vorghal.

I reflected in disbelief that the Heacharids had managed to subjugate this magnificent people. It was a lesson that I did not truly want to learn, which is that war is little more than a mill and the grain is suffering. The Heacharids could overcome nearly every challenge by swamping it with their dead. The only reason I had been able to prevail was that I could then take those dead and hurl them back at the Heacharids.

I was deep in thought when Ten Ghosts rode up next to me. My horse shied from the vorghal and I missed my brave qobad once again. "The stag you rode," she said. "I have never seen its like."

"He is...was...a gweyir. An elven riding deer."

"I have met the elves. They have no such creatures."

"The Heacharids might have slain them."

"We had to hide our vorghal for generations. The Heacharids butchered them. We bred them in caves and high peaks, hiding them whenever the Heacharids sent one of their armies."

"Waiting for this moment."

"When the leash was loosened enough. They turned their attention to Zuunkhorun."

"That they have."

"You are the Dreadstorm."

"That is what the Heacharids call me."

She nodded. She was not silent, considering her next thought. It came naturally, though I could not see how one followed the other. "If you were to raise another as one of your foul creations, I would be moved to act against you."

I could not bear the thought of her loathing me, but I could not deny her. She looked through me, perhaps a connection forged when she had pulled the arrow from my heart, perhaps something she had naturally. "It is this ring," I said on impulse, showing the skeletal serpent that wrapped about my finger. "A prize from a necromancer I slew."

Her already wide eyes widened. "I sense its power. A dark and poison device."

"It is that. Although without that power, I could not stand against Heacharium."

"A cruel bargain." She looked me over. "You walk with power. There is that and I sense a weapon that I cannot see. And..." we rode from the cover of the trees and Quiyahui was overhead in an iridescent ribbon. "There is she."

"My familiar."

"We do not have wizards among my people. We have seen the Heacharid witchthralls of course, but they have no beasts."

"They take their familiars from them and bind them in a great vault. It is another form of slavery."

"The Heacharids are a blight upon our world."

I could not bear to ask the question that bubbled in my mind. Did she have sisters or would it be she who would be wed to one of my descendants? Greedily, I wanted her for my own. I wanted to feel that safety and warmth I had experienced at the gateway to death. Foolishly, I craved it.

We put some leagues between us and the ambush before camping for the night. As my party rested, the Theva merely stood among the trees, making no motion to bed down.

"Do you not wish to rest?" I asked.

"We do not sleep as you do," Ten Ghosts said. "Rest well, we will be alert enough."

I settled onto my bedroll with Maireili. She pillowed herself on my chest, her claws gently stroking the red splotch on my robes. The elven material had already reknit and now all that remained was the blood that would wash from it easily. I left it there for a time as a reminder.

"You frightened me," she murmured in the quiet of the night.

"Forgive me."

"No," she said, kissing me once. "We will put armor on you."

I sighed. "I never learned to wear it. It chafes."

"Arrows chafe worse."

"They were only successful because we let down our guard."

"I will not make that mistake again, but you will also find something to wear. Perhaps Lyta can make you something."

"Perhaps. Why was your guard down? It is not like you to allow the enemy so close."

Maireili blushed. "I was distracted. There was a flock of birds...finches, I think. Their feathers were orange and blue."

I held her, filled with a sudden, desperate love for her. "I will see about some kind of armor. Some I can tolerate."

***

We went higher into the mountains, following roads that were increasingly trails. Evidence of Heacharids vanished beyond an occasional wooden post marking a fork in the road. These were caught in decay, a clear sign that the Theva did not care to maintain anything of their conquerors.

"The Heacharids mark their territory," Ten Ghosts said, noticing me looking at one. Qibahz, our destination, was written upon it, along with a ten-league marker. We were on a bend in the road, facing a gap between two peaks.

"We are close."

"Closer than that," she said. I thought I detected a grin. Ten Ghosts was, in her youth, not demonstrative. It would take her many years to become she who the historians remembered.

"I was told your settlements move?"

"They do now. The Heacharids misliked this custom of ours, but we are not theirs anymore." She closed her eyes and I had the sensation of something occurring that I could not quite perceive. It reminded me of the beginnings of my lessons, when the old man taught me to perceive aerilean currents.

Ten Ghosts opened her eyes. "It will be soon," she said.

The thunder was distant, a thrum like a heartbeat on the edge of my hearing. It grew louder, accompanied by the clattering of falling rocks. Then, a great insect clambered around one of the peaks, its every footstep thunder. My mind took a moment to understand what I was seeing, for it was impossible. Yet I had beheld the impossible many times.

The bottom of what I took to be an insect was eight legs made of metal and stone, a dark gray and carved with runes. On its back was the town. Every building, every road, every tree, the grass and shrubs, everything that made a village a village was on the back of this colossal thing. What I had taken for a poetic description of a nomadic life was in fact literal. The most amazing part was how steady the mobile village was. Everything remained level, and the footsteps never shook the inhabitants. I recognized the strange tracks I had seen before as coming from one of these walking villages. This town, Qibahz, settled into the crook between peaks as gently as gently as Maireili lay any of our children into their cribs at night.

"Incredible," I said.

"A secret of the Theva."

"How is it done?"

"A village is the sum of its people, all of those who lived and have lived. The Heacharids thought to stamp out our faith, to move us to veneration of their goddess. They chained our towns to the mountains. They thought to rob us of our gifts but all they could manage was delay."

"I know so little of your people."

"Is that your goal? Knowledge?"

"In part," I said, meeting her eyes. "I loathe the Heacharid for the way they would take the wonder from this world. I want victory over them, an end to their threat. I believe we can do that together."

She watched me and for a moment I had the sensation that she was holding me, huge over me. The healed wound throbbed in time with my heart. "Yes. You want to learn. Good. I will tell my father that."

Once the town settled into its place, the road led right in as though it had been built that way. Just as with Shelat, towers topped with Theva sentries were spaced evenly about the border. With the escort from Ten Ghosts, the sentries made no move to stop us.

Five women waited for us in the road. I was growing accustomed to the way the Theva seemed to always know where to be. Ten Ghosts approached the woman in the lead and leaned in, their foreheads touching without speaking. She turned to us. "This is my mother, Seven Falls."

"Welcome, Your Majesty," said Seven Falls. "Three Skies awaits you in the spine."

We wasted no time and I appreciated that about the Theva. There was so little obfuscation to the way they did things. One of the Theva took our horses to be tended to while the others escorted us through Qibahz. I saw a town almost identical to Shelat, both in size and layout. I was able to appreciate more how it felt like a living thing, how the buildings grew from the ground, most and grass reaching up stone walls and even growing from rooftops. The Heacharids had committed a crime when they had chained these places to their stones. They were meant to move.

As though prompted by my thought, Qibahz rose from its resting place. I did not feel it beneath my feet so smooth was its motion. Instead, I saw it as a crazy lurching of the horizon. The wind in my hair felt like the soft caress of gentle fingers.

"Amazing," breathed Maireili.

I reached for her. Our fingers intertwined and she rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Ten Ghosts watched us, looking away only when I met her sunset eyes.

A tower rose in the center of Qibahz. This was the spine, a common feature in every Theva town. As I would come to understand it, it was not dissimilar from the great machine Kushan-Hegal had built in her workshop. It concentrated energy, but instead of aerilean power, it was an altogether more ineffable lifeblood. The Theva generated it by existing in the span of generations, drawing forward and backward through their lines. I would not understand this until I too was a part of their saga, but that had yet to come.

They brought us into the central chamber of the tower. There, soaring pathways spanned a darkness redolent of rich soil. In the center, connected to the outside by the pathways like the spokes of a wheel, was a sculpted platform. Here Three Skies waited.

When I first heard of him, I pictured a grimy rebel leader, sleeping in ditches and chewing roots. Perhaps he had once been this, but he was no longer. His handsome face was stitched with copious scars, but this was the only evidence that he was a warrior. He wore the furred finery of his people, the jewelry of bone, amber, and quill. Next to him was a great war club, more ornate that the one carried by Ten Ghosts but recognizably the same design. His eyes were identical to his daughter's, that incredible blend of deep blue and pink. He reclined on a swoop of stone like a cat sunning itself.

He broke into a languid smile as we entered. "Welcome to Qibahz, Your Majesty. It is not every day we receive such an august visitor."

"I am pleased to be made welcome," I said, following Ten Ghosts across the path and onto the platform, Maireili and Kelephas trailing us.

Three Skies rose, gripping my forearm in a Heacharid greeting. I do not believe he meant insult. I believe he merely thought that was how humans greeted one another. "Sit. You are here to seek an alliance with me. What does that mean?"

Once again, a Theva knew more than they should. I would grow accustomed to that as well. "We are both enemies of the Heacharid Empire. I would be pleased to supply you with weapons, provisions if you need it."

"Appealing. And what would we provide?"

"A seat at your table. Attacking separately, I fear we are leaving some pain for the Heacharids behind. Together, we might wound them more grievously."

"I see. And what would bind us?"

"Marriage."

"One of your children to one of mine?"

That had been the plan, of course. But I am a fool. Since she had pulled the arrow from me, I could think of nothing else. I had come to the decision in the back of my mind but refused to truly acknowledge it. "I would wed Ten Ghosts."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the surprise on the Theva's face. For once, she had been caught off her guard. Not so her father. "My daughter, by rights is a chaplain of our faith. She cannot be traded thus."

"I would not ask her to enter into such a union unwilling."

"Do you love her?"

"She saved my life."

"You speak of gratitude, not love."

"Forgive me, my lord, I know the difference. I had been struck with a mortal arrow and Ten Ghosts brought me back from the gates of death. She showed me something in that moment, I believe I touched the heart of her."

"You touched the heart of our people."

"Through her."

"She is a valuable war leader. I could not spare her to live in your castle, to bear your children."

"I will not ask her to leave your rebellion. I felt her ferocity. I know her desire to see her people free. To deny her this would make me unworthy. I do not seek to tame her."

He nodded, deep in thought. Apparently, my answers were good ones. He turned to Ten Ghosts. Something passed between them, but I could not see it. I felt only the briefest touch of warmth, an echo of the sensation of the arrow being pulled from my chest.

After seven heartbeats, Ten Ghosts looked to me. "It will be done."

"I would ask that the wedding take place in my capital, that the people can see the union of our peoples. Come to me when campaigning season is over and we will marry then."

Ten Ghosts trembled, a shocking vulnerability in the self-possessed Theva. "As you wish."

I wondered if I was being cruel. I almost offered her a way out, but I could not find my voice. I wanted her more than I could stand. I longed to find peace in her arms. I could not imagine a life without her.

Later, when Maireili and I were alone in the tower, my wife smirked. "Zhahllaia said this is what would happen."

"I cannot escape my nature."

She pressed her cool lips to mine, slipping her arm about my waist. "I would not want you to."

***

We rode home swiftly, turning south and traveling through the Jaggurghar kingdoms. Kelephas periodically griped that he thought he was the one to be wed and I informed him that he was free to seek a bride among the Theva of his own. Only a few years later, he would.

Tanyth, Sarakiel, and Zhahllaia greeted us upon our return. Lysethe was still out campaigning, winning battle after battle long the Turquoise Coast.

"How went the errand?" Tanyth asked.

"He's found himself a bride," Maireili said.

"Of course he did," Zhahllaia said.

"Let him out of your sight for a moment and he'll fall in love. Who is she?" laughed Sarakiel.

"A Theva princess. Beautiful and fierce. You will be pleased," Maireili said.

"Is she with you?" Sarakiel asked. "May we meet her?"

"She will be coming at the end of campaigning season," I said.

"And in the meantime?"

"I have a war to fight."

***

I did not quite understand the Theva when I thought they would abide by campaigning season. As autumn closed in and we finished our final attacks of the year, pulling back through the Arkohnum, I thought to see Ten Ghosts every day.

My ardor had not waned. On the contrary, the absence turned want into need, need into necessity. As my desire grew, so too did my doubt. Every moment we'd had together, I saw a new reason that she might not wish the wedding. A shrug, a downcast eye, a moment of silence that stretched too long, these turned into signs that she despised me.

Winter came on wings of snow. First the Zuunkhor Mountains were capped in white as though the season first wished to surround us. Snow soon fell in the lowlands. We retreated to our fires and I thought Ten Ghosts had decided to wait until spring. She postponed the wedding because she did not want me. In my greed, my cruelty, I had forced this magnificent woman into a union she did not wish.

I resolved that when she arrived, I would ask for another match. I would have them pick a bride who wanted me. My thoughts turned to the feeling that she put within me, when she pulled the arrow from my chest and once again filled me with life. The boundless compassion in her sunset eyes warmed me and once again, I was blinded by anything except my need.

"Something troubles you, love," Tanyth said one night while we were abed. Zhahllaia was close by. We had finished our loveplay of the evening, basking in our time together.

I told them what troubled me. I trusted Zhahllaia's counsel like no other and Tanyth had some experience in the arena of arranged marriages.

"We did not see her," Zhahllaia said. "So we cannot say what is in her heart with any certainty. When she arrives, I believe we will be able to gauge her desires."

"And perhaps do some convincing of our own," Tanyth mused.

"Slattern," Zhahllaia said without malice.

"You should listen to Maireili's descriptions of the lass," Tanyth said.

"I beg you," I said. "Learn whether or not she truly wants to join our family."

"We will," Tanyth vowed.

***

It was deep into winter when Qibahz stalked from the snows to the Arkohnum Gate. Pigeons carried the warning to the capital and by the time I arrived on the walls, every defender murmured superstitiously to one another, staring at the walking city standing in the middle of the Golden Wastes. As I climbed the walls, flanked by Lysethe, Dioscoro, and Deimara, the defenders calmed themselves. The wizards had arrived.

"Fear not," I announced. "These are our guests."

Qibahz, as though commanded by my reassurance, crouched down. Its legs drove into the earth one by one. It settled onto what was flat ground, the battered road extending from the gate now leading into the Theva village. Fur clad figures rode forth on the backs of vorghal. Ten Ghosts was at their head, resplendent in her Theva finery. Love and fear warred in my heart. I wanted to embrace her, yet I dreaded the coldness I might find in her eyes.

"Open the gates," I called, displaying a confidence I did not feel. "My bride arrives!"

A cheer went up from my guards, running down the walls in a wave as fear turned to relief. I climbed down into the courtyard. This was the place where, if the Arkohnum was ever breached, would become a killing ground. It was a place of power for me, and yet I felt like a child.

Lysethe, clad in her red armor, leaned over, her murmur comforting me. "I look forward to meeting her."

The impossibly heavy gates rumbled open. What I had once thought to be an incredible achievement in the arts of my engineers now looked inadequate next to the incredible way their towns walked about upon legs of stone.

The Theva, these giants on the backs of terrifying beasts, were dwarfed next to the gates, but nothing could truly diminish their magnificence. I understood why the Heacharids feared these people and had worked so hard to extinguish their light. I wished I could be present when Heacharid spies reported this union to the emperor.

Ten Ghosts rode at the head of the column, clad in a long white ermine cloak and robes of deerskin, a headdress of vorghal quills about her head and trailing down her back. Her expression was serene, but I believe I saw trepidation in her sunset eyes. I tried to still the hammering in my heart. I thought that if she turned away, if she truly did not want this, that I would never again be warm.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing.

"I trust your journey was an easy one," I said, trying to think of anything to say.

"Quite," she said, as unsure of her words as I.

"Please, come with me. We will make for the capital, where I might introduce you to court."

The journey up the Valley Road was easy. In my time, the road had been widened and repaired, making reinforcing the Arkohnum from anywhere in Zuunkhorun a simple matter. One of my many infrastructure improvements that had rendered me beloved in my adopted home. The Theva kept to themselves on the trip and I did not feel it was appropriate to spend time with Ten Ghosts.

Instead, I longed for her, watching her for some sign that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. She looked like a statue of a demigoddess imbued with life, but that belied the warmth that came from her. She remained an enigma on the trip, and even in the rare moments I caught her looking at me, I could divine nothing.

Snow covered the capital in a glittering crust. The lake had frozen over. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of fires in hearths. It was easy to forget we were in the midst of a war that had lasted lifetimes. Perhaps they sensed the end was nigh, or perhaps they had merely grown used to it. The Tyrant's War, as constant as the seasons.

I had sent birds ahead, and we entered through the gates, my wives were waiting. Even Allegeth had made the journey, no doubt summoned as soon as I made for Ironmotte. Tanyth stood in front of them, wearing her scorpion diadem over a warm gown and a heavy fur cloak. My Kharsoomian flower would never truly adjust to the cold.

"Welcome honored guests," said Tanyth, bowing.

"Thank you, Princess Tanyth of Clan Abibaal," said Ten Ghosts, returning the bow. She went to each of my brides and thanked her in turn. She towered over all of them, but for the diminutive Zhahllaia, she looked positively giant.

I hunted for some sign that betrayed her true feelings, but I could find nothing. I wished her motives were as easy to divine as my own. Fear turned to sadness. I came to the conclusion that I had been presumptuous. I was already making plans to tell her she could return to her home whenever she wished. We could choose another couple from my family and hers.

I had retreated into my brooding even at the welcoming feast. Fortunately, Tanyth was there, turning her formidable charms upon the Theva. She had Three Skies in the palm of her hand before long.

"I have heard of Kharsoom," he said in one of the moments I surfaced from my dark thoughts, "though I have not been there."

"You would make a fine boldisar," she said.

"I am unfamiliar..."

"A wandering warrior. A hero who fights for coin as often as cause. Belromanazar was one."

"He was? I understood he was a wizard and a soldier."

"I have been many things in my years." I nodded. "For a time, I was a boldisar in the Red Wastes."

"Fascinating."

Ten Ghosts was silent, watching everyone with her sunset eyes. I made my decision and spent the rest of the feast steeling myself for what would be an awkward conversation. When we rose from the table, I approached her. Her fresh forest scent washed over me and the warmth of her presence welcomed me. I almost lost my resolve, but I could not.

"May we speak in private?"

"Of course."

She followed me to another chamber. My eyes met Tanyth's and she frowned momentarily, though did not stop us. When we were alone, I turned to face Ten Ghosts, though I found I could not look upon her directly. She was like the sun. Her beauty would bewitch me and my words would vanish like winter wind.

"I fear perhaps I was hasty in insisting upon our wedding."

"You do not wish an alliance?"

"I do."

"You do not like me?"

"Though we have only known each other a short time, you are as the sun to me. I could not bear to be without you."

"Then why?"

"I do not believe you want this."

She was silent and though I longed to hear a denial, instead she gave me the next best thing. She was honest. "I admit to some trepidation. I do not know you well. You are pleasing to look upon, but that is not enough."

"Then we should call this off. I have children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren in plenty. Your people can pick an appropriate bride or bridegroom."

She considered. "You do not know much of my people. That is no crime. We are insular and do not often share our ways. We have a custom that would put me at peace."

"Anything."

"I would spend a week with your wives. You will not intrude. At the close of the week, my decision will be made."

"I will see it done."

"You have my thanks, Your Majesty."

"Whether you stay here as my bride or return home, it is Belromanazar."

"Of course," she said, a tiny smile flickering over her serene features.

That night in my chambers I spoke to my wives. They loved the idea. The following day I quit the Tyrant's quarters to be replaced with Ten Ghosts and installed myself in the wing of the palace for visiting dignitaries. I had a moment of annoyance at my exile, then remembered my drafty quarters in Thunderhead or of sleeping on the frigid ground in Kharsoom. Alone in my bed, I found myself missing Ujaala. Quiyahui did not join me, I suspect because she understood that I had to be bereft of carnal companionship for a time.

I entertained myself by entertaining Three Skies, Seven Falls, and the rest of the Theva delegation. I took them around the capital, then down to the undercity. The falls had frozen over but the dark beauty of the city was undeniable. We were met by some of Miloz's grandchildren, who acted as guides for us.

I tried to ignore the hammering of my heart as I wondered what kind of decision Ten Ghosts would make. My wives were the best part of me. I could not imagine them making a poor impression, but I could imagine her not knowing where she would fit among such a gathering. I did not know the criteria Ten Ghosts would use to judge.

As much as I spent that week trying to forget what was being decided behind closed doors, I could not. When Lysethe's bird found me, my heart seized. I thought it might shatter, but her words were made of sunlight. "The wedding will proceed."

Elated, I went to tell Three Skies and he merely smiled. "Did you really think it would not?"

"I thought she might not want this."

"And had she not, you would have not married her?"

"I would not have her do something she did not wish."

"That pleases me to hear." He gave the enigmatic smile I had seen on his daughter's lips many times. "It is unnecessary. Ten Ghosts would not unwillingly submit to another."

I thought I would see them, but more fool I. We had the wedding to attend to. It had to be soon, for Allegeth did not want to be long away from her kingdom. I saw my wives only in passing over the following week. When the wedding arrived, it was a relief.

We wed in the style of the Zuunese, a ceremony for the people to show how their Tyrant respected their ways. The Theva had no objections, Three Skies informing me that for them, the ceremony had been finished the instant I had received Lysethe's bird.

I scarcely heard the wedding. All I could think about was what awaited me in my bedchambers. Would we consummate the marriage? Would we wait? I spent the ceremony on the edge of a knife. My heartbeat drowned out all conversation. My attention was on the curve of her thigh, upon the tattoos climbing from her collar.

When we finally retired to our bedchambers, I did not know which way to turn nor what lay next in store. It was the first time I had been there for a week. I noted one of the chairs had been moved near the fire, facing the room. I did not attach any special significance to it, for I could not think of anything except my new bridge.

"Do you know why I am called Ten Ghosts?" she asked.

"It is your name."

The enigmatic smile returned. "It is because of our faith."

"You are a priestess."

"As you would understand, yes. My people come from wind. Our ghosts remain in the breath of the world. Our priests, as you would have us, commune with these ancestors."

"And ten is a remarkable number."

"Yes," she said. I watched her fight the pride of that admission.

"I want to know more about you."

"You will have time. Tonight, though, we must lay together. We bind our marriage in ties of love. My people will not truly trust our alliance until I bear a child."

"We should begin," I said eagerly. My staff pressed against my robes, wanting to find a home inside her.

"Not yet. We have another tradition, my husband." She opened the chamber door. One by one, my wives filed in. Their expressions ranged from a sweet smile on Maireili's face to a lascivious grin on Jerrika to an ironic smirk on Tanyth. Lysethe closed the door behind them, her gaze crawling over me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Undress, wizard," Jerrika ordered. "Show your new bride that spear between your legs that has seduced us all."

I did as I was asked. I stood before them, nude, my turgid staff straining for them. The fire in the hearth warmed my back. I looked from face to face. Some stared at me, others at Ten Ghosts staring.

"Do I meet your approval?" I asked.

"That remains to be seen," Zhahllaia said.

"Sit there," Sarakiel said, gesturing to the chair.

I sat and Allegeth and Lysethe stepped forward, making their mystical gestures and speaking arcane words of power. Rings of sunlight sprang from nothingness to bind my left arm and leg to the chair while rings of fire did the same to my right. I momentarily struggled, but I was caught fast. The spells did not burn me, but held quite effectively. I had only my words.

Allegeth and Lysethe must have seen the revelation upon my face. They each whispered a single, prepared word and a new bond covered my mouth. I could breathe easily, but I could make no sound. I was at their mercy. Each of them watched me with undisguised amusement, arousal in their eyes.

Ten Ghosts dropped her gown. Her beauty took any thought from me. I could not even struggle against my bonds. I could only look upon her in religious reverence. Her figure was that of a dancer, supple muscles defined under smooth teal skin. The line of runed tattoos ran up the outside of her right thigh, over her torso, to climb from up her neck. Her breasts were modest, upturned, with dark nipples. Her sex was furred in honey gold, barely hiding the pouting lips within. Her scent beaded in the air, washing me with the aroma of a forest in bloom.

She wanted this. There could be no more doubt.

Behind her, one by one, my other brides divested themselves of their clothing. They were in their own ways, the Theva's equal. Each one was different, each one an exquisite work of loveliness. My attention wandered from Ten Ghosts to Tanyth's smooth crimson body, to Sarakiel's blue-striped curves, to Lysethe's pale muscles, to Allegeth's burgundy scales, to Jerrika's ghostly form, to Maireili's funereal loveliness, and finally to Zhahllaia's petite bronze body.

Another presence filled the room. Not intrusive, but once noticed, impossible to miss, like a persistent draft. It filled the room in a sense of belonging and warmth, holding all of us in an embrace of love. I caught scraps of sensation through it, the candlewax taste of Sarakiel, the tickle of Zhahllaia's caress, the campfire scent of Allegeth, the earthy taste of Maireili. I had never felt more loved and accepted than I had in that moment.

The effect was clear upon my brides as well. Their eyes were bright, their orchids wet, their chests heaving in shivery bursts. Sarakiel was the first to move, pulling Lysethe into her arms, their lips easily finding one another. Tanyth and Zhahllaia moved into their delicate dance of bliss. Maireili shyly went to Allegeth, and Jerrika was at her back. Each, I noted, had gone to the one with whom they shared the deepest bond. The seven of them found the bed and there they explored their carnal joy in earnest.

I watched them cavort, teasing and licking. Zhahllaia and Tanyth moved into a blessed crossroads, their eyes locked fiercely upon each other, their bodies shivering. Lysethe's head bobbed between Sarakiel's thick thighs. Jerrika knelt behind Lysethe, slipping her fingers inside the witchthrall. Allegeth and Mareili had formed an amazon circle. This incredible beauty unfolded before me, scored by a symphony of lusty moans and gentle whimpers.

Ten Ghosts stood, her back to this, watching me helpless in the chair. The bonds held me fast and I could not manage a single spell. I needed to be with one of them, with all of them. That other presence spurred me, turning now to red desire.

"You sense it now," the Theva said. "The Theva are as wind, our families joining the very air itself. I had to know."

I stared, the enormity of what she had done becoming apparent. She had spent that week not creating this connection, for it existed already, but testing its worthiness. Our family, this sprawling group, was now linked by the magic of this incredible people. This last was a ceremony of sorts.

The orgy upon the bed shifted, each woman finding another partner. Maireili and Jerrika writhed against one another. Tanyth and Sarakiel formed a happy chain of lust, each one at another. Zhahllaia squirmed happily as Lysethe's sunlight and Allegeth's fire danced over her.

Ten Ghosts took another step to me. Her forested scent washed over me. Her blond fleece was soaked, a line of nectar running down one teal thigh. "Only I may touch you tonight. The others agreed. They liked the idea of teasing you."

Of course they did, I thought with equal annoyance and affection.

"Enjoy their love," Ten Ghosts said. "It is one of the good things you have done."

The Theva's serene demeanor was not entirely genuine. Her thighs rubbed together at the apex, smearing her juices over the smooth flesh. Her breath was short, her chest glistening. Her sunset eyes increasingly sought my turgid staff, now pointing at her womb. The sounds behind her reached another peak.

They did not so much shift partners anymore. They had turned themselves into a quivering mound of sensation. Glimpses of moist lips, of heaving scales, of a lashing tail, a flared mound, were what I saw. It was love and lust blended into an ecstatic whole.

I could not break their bonds, but I tried anyway. I could not control myself. I needed to be with them, needed something. The desire in me was a slavering beast that needed to feed. Any control I had was gone.

Ten Ghosts had reached her limit. She came to me in shivering, coltish steps. She hesitated when she was only a breath distant. The warmth of her body caressed me. The scent of her sex, now strong, a summer breeze through a blooming forest, washed over me.

She stepped over me, her long legs lacing through the space between the chair and its arms. She held the top and now made to straddle me. Her sex was in my face, her lips open, drooling nectar over her hair. I longed to taste her, but the gag kept my desire at bay. I was utterly at her mercy and the thought inflamed me.

She settled down, one hand reaching between us. I felt her caress on my staff for the first time. The pleasure flooded from me before I could stop it. The eupheric orgy transpiring on the bed, the beauty of my new bride, the scent of her arousal, was too much. Pearly strands leapt from me, streaking her teal belly. She uttered a surprised yelp, but did not relent her attentions.

I did not soften. In the sudden bliss, I was with everyone. I felt the caress of their hands, their mouths, on parts I did not even possess. I was among them in the bed, drinking from their bodies, eagerly exploring soft flesh. As they could continue even after an explosion, so too could I.

Ten Ghosts held me in her hand, stroking a spear already aflame with shed pleasure. Her eyes danced with need, her face set. She guided me to her golden-furred lips. The wetness embraced me, her scent wrapping me in trees and flowers.

My attention went to the pearly streaks over her belly. Somehow the mark of base pleasure brought her to the realm of the mortal. She became someone that I could love, less an idea I could only worship. I struggled to embrace her, but the magical bonds held me fast.

"No, my husband," she murmured. "This time, it will be as I will it."

She sank over me. Her sex surrounded me, sultry in its summery embrace. She whimpered, her eyes closing, her brow furrowed. She paused with me only partway inside her. Her body had clenched about me, tiny pained noises escaping her lips. She held herself that way, her powerful muscles shaking as the maintained the awkward stance, straddling but going neither up nor down.

I tried to thrust up into her, but the bonds held me in place. I was her toy, her plaything, her slave. Instead I fell back into the cloud that now subsumed the chamber. The pleasure of my wives on the bed had joined with us upon the chair. I knew that they could reach out and feel not only the bliss of being penetrated but the joy of the penetration itself. They could be at once spear and flower, as could I.

I touched Ten Ghosts's mind and she opened up to me as her body did. I felt myself now, the sensation of being wonderfully full. My body both needing and fearing more. She began to move her hips. First merely rocking, but as she touched the minds of the others, I began to feel their technique. Tanyth's easy gyrations, Sarakiel's singleminded thrusts, Maireili's graceful waves. Ten Ghosts eased me deeper, each wash of her sex finding a new place upon me. I burned, feeling myself sinking into myself, hands and lips and tongues over me.

I cannot truly say what happened next. I slipped into the cloud about us. I knew that had I been able to control any aspect of the meeting, I might not have made it into this blessed state. I could only go along with the relentless pleasure, to exist upon its honeyed waves. I felt the surging against me, milking my sex at the same time as my own muscles stroked and teased.

The bliss belonged to all of us. It rose up in a great storm, bursting out of me in a wonderful agony. Any noise I made was consumed in the gag, but no gag could stop the rest of them. Cries, sobs, whimpers, came from my brides as all of our attentions reached the inevitable crescendo and crashed about us.

I caught only a moment of sight, of Ten Ghosts leaning back as I filled her with endless gouts of my seed, her head thrown back in happy ecstasy. Then all was a velvet blackness.

I found myself in bed with all of them. Ten Ghosts pillowed her golden head in the crook of my shoulder, Tanyth upon my leg. We were one great pile, exhausted and sated. I kissed the Theva's head. She looked up at me with her sunset eyes.

"I am glad we are wed," she said shyly.

"Good," I said. "You performed a ritual, didn't you?"

"You felt it. You were already a family. Now we are one in the Theva sense."

"I have many questions."

"We have eternity to answer them. Now, I need to sleep."

"Of course, my love."

Ten Ghosts spent the winter in the capital, and though we did not conceive a child, it was not for lack of trying. She returned to campaigning in the spring and we saw each other much less. Still, even with her away, I could feel the corners of her presence, a note of her scent in the air. This was true of all my brides now, the greatest gift the Theva could have given us.